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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

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Jealousy

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Drama | NC-17 | College AU Summary: It comes as a nice surprise when you saw your ex-boyfriend at your workplace and you thought everything was going to be fine. You both have moved on, right? Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck, thinks otherwise.

Warnings: rough unprotected sex, oral sex, slight choking, slight dirty talk, this is just pure filth you guys I’m so sorry I had too much feels

It’s the continuation of Before Our Story Began but can still be read separately if you want.

It has been months since you first dated Lee Donghyuck, also popularly known as Lee Haechan, and things were great—more than great, even, but all good things have come to an end at one point. Your relationship with Haechan is still going pretty strong, but now that you have passed the Honeymoon Phase—where it’s all just sex and raw passion—things can sometimes get a little tense.

While he’s been certainly fun and charming for the most times you’ve been together, not to mention adventurous when it comes to sex, Haechan can be really stubborn and selfish that you often start to bicker with him over the simplest of things.

Like yesterday, for example.

“Look, I said I’m sorry!” He whined and you held yourself back from rolling your eyes because that was so him and it wasn’t really cute anymore. Especially after he arrived an hour late at the cafe that he’d asked you to meet a day before.

“I’m not angry,” you stated, emptying the rest of your coffee. On the other side, Haechan’s ice americano was still pretty much full considering he just got there and you had ordered the drink for him an hour before, thinking that he was going to be on time for your date. But no, he was so into the new online game Jaemin had told him about a week ago that he began to lose track of time. It seemed to you that was all he’d been doing for the last few days, and you were fine with giving him some personal space but clearly not if he was wasting your precious time instead. Not everybody is as smart as him when it comes to keeping good grades. Maybe he doesn’t have to study much, but you do.

“You are! You’re totally angry!” He pointed out and you sighed because of course, I’m angry, you idiot, I had to spend an hour by myself doing literally nothing because you asked me to go out when I’m supposed to be working on my papers that’s due tomorrow but you kept yourself in silence. You had to be the adult in the relationship, especially when you’re dating a goddamn brat.

“Whatever.” You placed back your phone—which had been your only companion—into your purse and wore back your coat. “I have to go.”

His eyebrows—his thick, beautiful eyebrows that you love so much (though not that day) were knitted in both desperation and annoyance from how you acted. “Noona!” He wailed, grabbing your hand when you stood up from your seat. “What do you want me to do? If I could go back to the past, I would, but I can’t and you being unreasonably angry like this isn’t—”

“Unreasonably?”

Haechan’s jaw hung slackly on his face when he noticed the anger radiating off your body. You were angry before but not this angry. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

You clicked your tongue in irritation, pulling your hand out of his grip. “I’ll see you later, Donghyuck.” It was cold, the way you said it, and Haechan sensed that. But being the whiny brat that he was, he just kept on shouting back, gathering people’s attention.

“Can’t we be adults and talk about this—Yah!” When you didn’t answer—or even glanced back at him—he threw his hands in the air, yelling, “You know what? Fine! I don’t really want to hang out with you anyway! In fact, it’s actually better for me if we don’t hang, ever!”

But you already had your feet out of the door.

On the next day, he came by to your dorm at four in the morning, making your roommate groan with a hellish fire burning in her eyes. “If that’s your boyfriend, I am going to kill him.”

“Don’t bother, I will,” you muttered in response before you stepped down from your bed, turned on the lighting (which earned another loud groan from your friend), and reached for the door. Haechan stood there with his hair looking like a bird’s nest, his cheeks reddening from the morning cold, and his eyes bleary from lacking sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he softly said in all of the sincerity he could emit. “I’ve been an asshole.”

“It’s four in the morning, Haechan-ah.”

“I know, but I can’t sleep thinking about what happened before and I don’t think I can before you forgive me.” He did his best pout. It was cute, but not cute enough to wash your vexation away. “Also, it’s raining heavily outside, if you haven’t noticed, so I thought it would add some dramatic effects to my apology.”

“You’re not wet though.”

“Neither were you before you met me,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows but when he noticed you glaring at him in reticence—oh if looks could kill—he flinched and hastily added, “Sorry, bad timing. I don’t know why I said that. Well, umm, it was kinda cold when I stepped under the rain so I decided to just bring an umbrella with me.” He suddenly seemed like he remembered something. “Oh yeah, can I leave it here? I’ve got an early class today and I don’t really want to carry it with me everywhere.”

That earned another flat stare from you. “You’re not taking any of this seriously, are you?”

“I am! I swear!” He squeaked, shuffling inside his bag before he took out a white box with a red bow wrapped around it. “Look, I brought you some chocolates.”

“I’m on a diet.”

“Well, now, how am I supposed to know?”

“I literally told you that yesterday.” To say he was testing your patience would be an understatement at that point. “Remember? When you arrived late on our date and you asked why aren’t you ordering anything and I said I’m on a fucking diet!”

“Yo, chill, I was just trying to be nice.” Haechan grabbed you by the shoulders, massaging the sore spots and it would probably feel good if you weren’t so pissed-off over his antics. “Also, Noona, don’t you know? Men have a harder time remembering things than women do. And that’s just scientifically speaking, not me.”

You exhaled so loudly into the air, slapping his hands away. “Look, it’s literally four in the morning. Can we talk again when the sun is up? Like normal people?”

“Noona, pleaseeeeee.” He threw his head back in exasperation. “I said I’m sorry! What else do you wa—”

“JUST FORGIVE HIM FOR FUCK’S SAKE! YOU GUYS ARE TAKING FOREVER AND YOU’RE GIVING ME HEADACHES!” Maybe you and Haechan were getting a bit loud, but your roommate was just shouting like she was about to march on a war so you didn’t really have the choice. It was either take your boyfriend’s apology or have your roommate kill both you and your boyfriend at the same time.

Haechan sheepishly and annoyingly smiled at you. “She’s got a point, you know.”

But, of course, he does learn his lesson from time-to-time so things don’t always end up in fights. And Haechan can be considerate, if he wants, noticing the little things that you do. Like when you’re wearing a new skirt (or new underwear, for that matter), giving you his jacket when you sniffle from the cold (as cheesy as that sounds, it does make your heart flutter a bit), or intertwining your fingers together when you’re nervous before your presentation.

Hopefully today this considerate version of his comes out to play again because there’s something you want to talk about with him.

“I think I need to start looking for a part-time job,” you say, sighing contently as he has his lips on your neck, suckling on the soft skin. Your fingers are playing with the soft strands of his hair, unconsciously tugging at them when he brings his tongue into the game. You know it’s not really the best time to have this conversation—especially not when he has his hand under your shirt as you sit on his lap at the back of his car—but with Haechan, it’s almost always like this whenever you’re alone with him so you don’t really have that many options. “I’m running out of money.”

“From dumping too many dead bodies in the swamp?” He chuckles next to your ear, unbuttoning more of your shirt and pushing the fabric off your shoulder. “Babe, I’ve told you,” he mouths against your skin. “You gotta search for a new swamp that’s free of charge—”

“Shut up.” But you’re laughing anyway. This inside joke you two have has become somewhat of a routine—a topic that pops out anytime in any conversation.

You can feel his grin pressing against the sensitive skin below your ear. “Told ya this swamp thing could be our thing.”

“No, I’m serious.” But despite that, you have to hold back a moan when you feel his hand roaming around your chest, his fingers slipping underneath your bra. You can’t tell him exactly why you need this job because you don’t want him to feel sorry for you. But the truth is, your parents back home have been having financial problems and you know how costly your college tuition can get. You just want to help out, even if it’s not much, and try to survive on your own without using your parents’ money. “I need some pocket money.”

Haechan has your earlobe between his teeth, his breathing feels warm and extremely sexy in your ears. “Mmm, for what?”

“To buy personal things.”

“What personal things?”

“Like…” You bite your lower lip, having the hardest time concentrating when he starts to play with your nipple, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bud. “I don’t know, like girl things.”

Haechan suddenly pulls away, looking you straight in the eyes with his own gleaming in excitement. “You mean like a customized dildo?”

“Make-up, Donghyuck.” You flatly stare back. All your sexual excitement from before? Gone. “I mean, make-up.”

“Sure, that too. But,” he insists and you roll your eyes, knowing where this is going. “Have you ever considered playing with a dildo in your spare time? Because I have. I mean, picturing you using it. Not me using it in my ass, oh God, no.”

“Are you done?”

“No, seriously.” It turns out, he’s not finished. And he still has a long way to go, judging by the enthusiastic look in his eyes. “Because I would totally buy it for you if it’s a dildo you need. Or any sex toys, for that matter. No matter how expensive it is, I’ll pay! I’ll save up some money and buy some so we can use them together in the future!”

He’s making it look like he’s talking about buying a house for your future marriage and it’s cute and disgusting at the same time so you stop him by pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s pathetic, the way he whines, but as long as it can stop him from sputtering nonsense, you’ll do it again.

“Why do you need make-up anyway?” He eventually gives up, rubbing his red nose, still wincing from the pain. “You’re already pretty without it.” And it really does sound sincere, the way he says it. Haechan flirts a lot, even when you’ve been together for months, he still does it pretty often. But he does have his sincerity from time to time, just like now, and you can’t help but blush a little because of it.

“Well, I’m more confident with it.”

“Well, of course, you do look smoking hot with your make-up on, don’t get me wrong,” he adds, lazily circling his arms around your waist as he leans his back to the car’s seat. “But you’re beautiful the way you are too. Like, you literally can wear that I woke up like this shirt every morning and you won’t find me complaining.”

“You complained about my morning breath this morning.”

“That you should work on.”

“Asshole.” You push a palm against his face, which he licks playfully like a dog. This is your favorite Haechan, if you have to be honest, with his lips pulled back showcasing a boyish grin, his eyes sparkling as he gazes at you, and his voice sounding light and airy with a hint of teasing in his words. And of course, also with the way he has his hair slightly pushed back, his forehead shown and his eyebrows raised whenever he throws flirty lines at you.

You really should consider yourself lucky to be able to call someone like him, who has the perfect balance of cute and sexy, as your boyfriend.

“I really like you,” you say, abruptly out of nowhere that it surprises you too. Haechan’s laughter stops almost immediately, his eyes searching yours. There’s silence hanging in the air, slowly suffocating you, and you’re about to beg him to say something when he smiles, so gentle and soft, with his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb.

“I really like you too,” he says, almost like he’s sighing. His eyes go up-and-down your face, switching from your eyes and your lips. “I like you so much that it drives me crazy sometimes.”

It’s insane how fast he can turn your steady heart rate into something that beats too loudly for your ears. “Okay, stop right there. I can’t with all this cheesiness you’re throwing at me. Let’s just make-out.”

And that sexy smirk of his grows back almost immediately. “I won’t argue with that.”

***

It’s not easy getting a job these days, especially when you don’t really have a set of skills you can be proud of but luckily enough, you’ve found a part-time job as a waiter at a family restaurant nearby. The salary is slightly below your expectation so maybe you have to recalculate your budgeting again but beggars can’t be choosers. You thought it should be enough for now. And the most important thing is, you only have to work three days a week so you can fit in well with your campus’ schedule.

The only remaining problem is your boyfriend because, believe it or not, he demands more time than all of your classes and assignments combined.

“I can’t believe we have our Netflix account renewed like two months ago and yet we haven’t watched anything on it,” Haechan complains, a bag of popcorn on his lap. He’s in his black sweat pants, hair all tousled from lying around on the bed all day. He’s already munching more than he should, even way before you can log in to your Netflix account. “At this point, we’re just throwing our money away.”

“Don’t blame me,” you retort, taking the bowl into your arms so you can climb into his lap, snuggling close to his chest. “I’m not the one who got my dick hard during the first half of literally every movie we decided to watch together.”

“You literally rubbed your ass against my crotch every single time. What a man gotta do in that situation?”

A smile creeps up your face. That you certainly did. It’s just so funny to have him flinch every now and then whenever you move slightly in his arms so you often just exaggerate your movements a bit, sometimes leaning forward in a suggestive way whenever you tried to change the brightness of your MacBook screen—so Haechan could take a good look of your ass—before settling back between his legs, making sure to give him enough friction as you slid down. Or sometimes you just laid your head on his shoulder, pressing a random kiss to his neck, and just went back to watching the screen as if you didn’t do anything. It really didn’t take long before Haechan groaned in exasperation, threw the bowl away, tackled you down to the bed, and pulled your shorts down your legs.

“Should I move away then?” You offer. “We can stay, like, five feet apart from each other as we watch this.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, pulling you closer again to his chest. “I like to snuggle. You’re warm and you smell really good, it comforts me. Besides, having sex with you is so much better than watching every movie out there.”

“Even better than watching The Kissing Booth?”

“Yah!” The way his cheeks turn scarlet almost immediately is too cute for you to handle. “You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me! See, this is why I—”

You cut him off with a chaste kiss, letting your lips linger on his the way he likes it before you pull away and pat him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Forgive me?”

Haechan unconsciously juts his lower lip out, just a little. “Fine,” he mutters, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist before he skims his nose along the nape of your neck. “Only because you’re cute,” he whispers.

“Oh right, that reminds me,” you say, closing your eyes as you listen to his breathing. It’s somewhat calming your nerves, after a long day of doing… well, nothing, actually. “I’ll be busy every Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday from now on so we won’t be able to hang out during those days.”

“What?!” He shrieks, almost turning you deaf. “Why?!”

“Because I have my part-time job, didn’t I tell you that before?” You can honestly hear your ears ringing from the loudness of his voice. “Or did you not listen to me again?”

“I can handle it if you work during the weekdays, but on the weekends too?” He’s actually looking pretty upset, though not that you haven’t expected him to be. “That’s our time! How can you do that to me? To us?! This is so not fair!”

You roll your eyes. “Stop being a drama queen. You literally spent the last weekend playing Overwatch at Jaemin’s place.”

“Whoa, hey,” he crows, pulling away from you with both hands raised in the air and forcing you to turn and look at him in the eyes. You do it as you nonchalantly munch on your popcorn, enjoying how dramatic your boyfriend can be at times like this. “Once again, lady,” he stresses on the word, narrowing his eyes at you. “They were holding a very, very important Anniversary Event and that does not happen every day. It’s not like I have any other choice! They were giving out new skins and other rewards!”

“Your choice was to spend your Saturday night with your fingers on your keyboard or in me. That was your choice.”

Haechan opens his mouth to say something, already holding out one finger in the air as if he’s about to make a good excuse but he fails almost immediately when your point begins to sink in his head. “You’re right,” he admits, “I’m sorry. What was I thinking? I should’ve been wiser.”

You pat his hair as you would do to a child. “Look, we can still hang out. I only work during the day, you know. You can always pick me up after work and we can get dinner together or something.”

He pouts, lowering his head as he murmurs, “It’s still not the same, though. I like spending time with you.”

You can feel your heart flutter from the way he says his line so genuinely. “Me too, Haechannie. Let’s just promise to always meet up on the weekends after I’m done with my work.”

The pout still does not falter away but it’s nothing a kiss can’t fix.

***

“Haechannie, I really need to go.” You struggle to slip yourself away from his long arms, holding back a laugh as you do it, and you almost reach the end of his bed but your boyfriend easily hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you back into his chest.

After not seeing each other for five days, you could finally see your boyfriend with his dazzling bright smile in person when he picked you up after work on a Saturday evening. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed him until he snatched you back into his embrace, intoxicating you with his amazing scent and airy laughter that sounds like music to your ears. It was a good thing being separated for a few days like that because Haechan became much more clingy in the most adorable way, following you around like a lovesick puppy. Even during sex, he was all giggly and soft, gently asking you how you feel, whether he was being too fast, or simply just telling you how beautiful you look even when you were pretty much exhausted from work. It was a nice change.

Both of you are still pretty much naked from the morning shower you just took together—or rather, the morning shower you took when suddenly your boyfriend came barging in, greasily saying, “My, my, there’s a naked lady in my shower. This must be my lucky day,” and ended up moaning against your mouth instead of washing the soap off your body.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, smiling into the kiss just like you do and you let him part your lips with his, slowly slipping his tongue in and tasting the roof of your mouth. “Oh man, I must be a freak for being so turned on from the fact that you’re wearing my shampoo.”

“You’ve always been a freak,” you snicker, pushing his face away with your palm. “Now, get off me. Jaemin can come back any second.”

“Jaemin’s too busy sucking Jeno’s morning wood, I’m sure. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

“Well, my shift is starting in thirty minutes.”

“Which leaves us twenty-nine minutes and fifty seconds to get each other off and ten seconds for you to get ready.” He lowly chuckles, his voice still sounding quite deep from sleep as he nips against the column of your neck.

“I’m serious…” You can tell that your voice becomes way less convincing. It’s just Haechan feels so warm and he smells so good, you have to literally offer your best effort to deny him and his touches. You’re still in the middle of putting in that so-called effort when you notice he’s sucking on the supple skin, to the point it begins to hurt a little bit. “Don’t suck too hard! You’ll leave bruises and I am not gonna wear a scarf again.”

“Good,” he murmurs against your skin. “So everyone will know you’re mine.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You sigh, tangling your fingers around his hair, arching your back to press your body closer to him. “You can be too possessive sometimes, do you know that?”

“Any man would if their girlfriend is as pretty as you,” he replies, pulling away from you a little so he can bore his eyes into yours. “Stay with me today.”

As much as you want to, especially with that hooded eyes looking at you with so much passion and desire, you have to be the responsible adult for today. “I can’t, Haechannie.”

“Noona~” His serious demeanor falters, and the whiny brat that he is comes back to the surface again. “Pleaseeee~ I’m lonely and I’m hard, can’t you just be kind to me for just one day?”

“Are you using your aegyo on me to get a quickie? Seriously?”

“What, it’s not working?” He tilts his head to the side, looking at you with that sexy smirk and his eyebrow raised seductively. “I thought aegyo was your thing.”

No, but your goddamn smirk and eyebrow raise surely are. “Fuck, okay, ten minutes. Can we finish in ten minutes?”

“I can guarantee that you will.” His smirk grows wider, licking his lower lip. “But I’m not sure if you can make me.”

“Is that a challenge?” You push him with both hands until he falls back to the bed, with you straddling his lap. “I’m going to make you take your words back, Lee Donghyuck, you better be prepared.”

***

You’ve broken two plates so far, and you’re sure you’re about to be fired if you even do a tiny mistake in the next hour but you try to keep yourself calm and composed and promise yourself to do better. It’s not that you’re a lousy waiter—okay, maybe a bit from the lack of experience—but the restaurant you’re working in can be surprisingly packed during lunch hours and it’s really taking all that you have to carry three porcelain plates on a tray as you walk on high heels that are killing you in every step you take. You often complain about the blisters at the back of your heels when you sit next to Haechan in his car, which usually ends up with him massaging your feet, while mumbling, “See, this is why you should’ve agreed with me when I told you about buying dildos. I would work my ass off to pay for that, and you can just lie around in my room all day.”

You’re getting better at your job the more days go by, and you’re much confident now in talking with customers. You’re already standing pretty in your uniform with a menu book in your arms, ready to greet the next customer but when the front door opens, all of your professionalism just goes straight out of the window.

“No way…” Your jaw hangs loosely on your face, eyes blinking twice in surprise. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. There, walking through the entrance door of the restaurant, is your ex-boyfriend from high school, Jeong Jaehyun. Dressed perfectly in a light blue buttoned-up shirt and a pair of black khaki pants, Jaehyun looks much, much better than how you remembered him to be. His dark hair stands in contrast to his pale skin, his veins appearing along his wrists and you have to remind yourself to stop staring and proceed with your work.

You take hesitant steps to meet him, swallowing your nervous breath and hoping that you don’t look as awkward as you think. You almost trip on your own feet when you notice Jaehyun looking back at you, his eyes widening in surprise before his lips turn upward into that gentle smile that reminds you of how he used to be back in high school. Maybe some things never change.

“Hi,” you greet with an awkward smile on your face.

“Hey.” The way his eyes droop slightly when he sees you feels nostalgic, and perhaps he’s much taller now because you have to look up to meet his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you. It’s been a while.”

“You’re right,” you reply, chuckling a little to mask how tense you really are. “Would you like me to take you to your seat?”

“Oh no, I won’t be long,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to talk to the manager for a sec.”

You furrow your eyebrows, trying your best not to get distracted with the way his hair ruffles almost perfectly under his touch. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, just wanted to see the latest financial report.” He smiles, showcasing his teeth. “My grandfather owns this place, and I’m helping him take care of the business while he’s overseas.”

Fuck. “A-ah, is that so?” Meeting him once as a customer is already painfully awkward enough for you to bear, but actually working for him?!

“I won’t bother you, I promise,” Jaehyun immediately adds, “I wasn’t aware that you work here, actually. Has it been long since you started?”

“About two weeks.” You fidget on your feet, having the hardest time making eye contact with him. “And I’m not very good at this.”

“Wait, are you the one who keeps breaking plates?”

You wince. “Yes. Can you please not fire me? I’ll pay for them, I promise.”

And Jaehyun laughs, his deep voice booming into the air. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay for them myself if that’s what it takes to keep you around.” He says his lines so naturally that it surprises you both when the words finally sink in. “I—I mean,” he clears his throat, “It’s just really been a while since I last saw you so I thought we should really catch up on things. How are you?”

“I’m—”

“Boss,” your manager suddenly comes to interrupt, carrying some paper sheets in her arms. “These are the reports you wanted. I can e-mail you the rest if you need more details.” And when she sees you standing next to Jaehyun with the worst looking smile you’ve ever had on your face, she squints her eyes menacingly at you, “What did you do this time?”

“She didn’t do anything,” Jaehyun hastily answers before you can even form a word of protest. “She’s a dear friend of mine. It’s been a while since we talked, so do you mind if I borrow her for a while?”

Your manager seems utterly shocked and you kind of dance happily in your mind because she’s been kind of mean to you—though you were the one who gave her the reasons to be—and seeing her speechless, only able to mumble out a small, “S-sure,” before she trails away back to her office like this becomes the highlight of your day.

“Thank you,” you say to him, not sure why but it feels right.

“Let me know if she bullies you again,” he says, gently patting you on the head and you can feel his fingers slowly brush your bangs off your temple. It seems like he’s unaware of what he’s doing and you can understand why because that’s just his habit, even from the time when you hadn’t started dating yet. You remember the time when he said he liked your eyes—he thought they were beautiful, and hiding them under your bangs like that was a shame.

You take a step back, looking anywhere but his eyes. “Umm…”

“Right, sorry,” he fumbles with his hands, the tip of his ears growing red. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Can we just sit and talk?”

You smile, genuinely this time. He really hasn’t changed despite his appearance. “Sure.”

***

Jaehyun doesn’t visit the restaurant every day and you don’t really expect him to, but when he does, he always spares some time to talk to you privately—usually during your break time so your manager can stop throwing ice daggers from her eyes at you.

“I’ve tried to call you after graduation,” he confesses as he takes you out for some coffee at the nearest cafe. Your shift is over and you’re waiting for Haechan to pick you up but he’s running late because he has to take a quiz that he missed from skipping the class the previous week—you guess it had something to do with him pulling an all-nighter playing Overwatch again—and you told him to take his time.

“You did?”

“Yeah. Several times, actually, but I couldn’t get connected.”

“Maybe you called after I lost my phone,” you reply, taking a sip of your hot latte and wincing when it nearly scalds your tongue. “I had to change my number. I lost my contacts and everything.”

“That makes sense. Would it be okay if I ask for your numbers now?”

“Only for business purposes,” you tease, and he grins back, almost boyishly.

“Only for business purposes,” he confirms, “Just so I can give you a heads-up when I’m about to fire you.”

You gasp, half-amused, half-terrified. “Please tell me you’re joking.” And he only responds with another laugh. Talking with Jaehyun is easy and comforting, and he really listens to what you’re saying like a loving older brother taking care of his sister. It’s a nice change considering it’s always you who have to act like the mature one when having a conversation with Haechan—not that it isn’t good. It just can get quite tiring after some time.

Jaehyun is in the middle of walking you back to your workplace when he tells you stories about the things he did after graduation, and how he’s planning to continue with his study overseas to get a master’s degree in business management as soon as he’s done with his work here. You’re so entranced with his story that you barely notice your boyfriend waiting with his back pressed against the side of his car, eyes busy staring at his phone screen.

“Haechannie, you’re here!” You run to his spot, a grin spreading wide on your face before you lean up and kiss his cheek.“When did you get here?”

“Noonaaaaa,” he pouts, voice becoming whiny as usual. Compared to how he acts, he’s dressed maturely in a white shirt and a black leather jacket, his silver necklace hanging low on his neck. It takes you a good five seconds to ogle at his amazing looks while telling your heart not to get too excited. At least not until you get back at the dorm so you can rip that shirt off him with your own hands. “I’ve been calling you three times already. Where have you been?”

“You have?” You immediately check on your phone, noticing that yes, in fact, he did call you three times. You didn’t notice before because your phone was on silent. “I’m sorry, I forgot to switch it back after work. Did you wait long?”

“A bit,” he pushes his bottom lip out but it soon turns into a cheeky grin. “But nothing a kiss can’t fix.”

“Haechannie.” You pat him softly on his cheek. “We’ve got company.” And at that, he begins to widen his line of sight—because he usually just focuses on you and forgets his surroundings—and spots Jaehyun standing a few meters behind you with his hands buried deep within the pockets of his pants.

“Oh,” he comments, acting nonchalant though you notice by the slight raise of his eyebrow that he’s already annoyed by his presence. “Who are you?”

It’s kind of rude to suddenly ask for his name, especially in the cold tone Haechan is using and Jaehyun’s lips twitch at his words. “Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Well, Jeong Jaehyun,” Haechan says with mockery on his tone, straightening his posture and you wonder whether it’s because he feels slightly inferior to Jaehyun’s height. “My girlfriend and I would like some privacy from now on, so if you can just run along now, that’d be great.”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder, gasping in disbelief before you turn around to face the other man. “I’m sorry, he can be quite rude sometimes but I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“Meant it with all my heart.”

“Be quiet.” And even Haechan can tell for his own good that he shouldn’t push your buttons further than that.

“It’s okay, I have to go anyway,” Jaehyun casually says, smiling angelically like how he always does though his eyes don’t really play along. “Your boyfriend is cute. How old are you? Does your mom know you’re still playing outside at this hour?”

Oh my God, not you too. You immediately grab Haechan’s hand to stop him before he flings himself forward and throws an arm toward the other man. You can see him clenching his jaw, almost baring his teeth when Jaehyun laughs quietly to himself, saying, “I’m just kidding. Have a good night, you two,” before he walks back to the restaurant, most likely to have another business talk with the manager.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Haechan blurts out, his eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. You stroke his arm, trying to soothe him down but what he does is relocating his glare on you instead, almost yelling, “Why were you with him? How many times have you guys seen each other? And why on earth did you take his side?!”

You’re too tired to care, to be honest, let alone answering him. You’re also suffering from the cold of the night, wanting desperately to climb into Haechan’s car and put on the heater to warm yourself up. “I’ll explain on our way back,” you sniffle, squeezing his hand. “Can we get inside the car? Please? I’m freezing.”

You can tell he’s still very much upset but his gaze softens when he sees puffs of air flowing from your chapped lips and your nose turning red. He sighs into the air but opens the door for you. He doesn’t really talk until he has his engine started, and you can practically see steam coming out from his ears as he drives into the night.

“Have you had dinner yet?” You ask, trying to keep as casual as you can.

“No.”

“Should we order something—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“O… kay…” You hold yourself back from sighing too loud. He’s testing your patience again, but it’s fine, you’re the mature one. You can handle this. “We’ll just go straight back to my place then. I’m sure I can make you something. I think I still have some pasta with—”

“I think I’m just gonna go back to my room right after I drop you off.” His words don’t hurt as much as the tone he’s using. You’re trying to patch things up even though you’re sure you haven’t done anything wrong but he’s not even trying to apologize about how rude he acted earlier. You can’t help but snap, probably because your fatigue is taking its toll. You figure you can act mature any other time, but not today.

“Okay, what is wrong with you?” You can feel your voice rising and it forces him to sneaks a glance at you but only for a split second before he brings back his eyes on the road again. “I’ve been trying to be nice to you but you keep on acting like a brat—”

“Oh, of course, now you have a problem with me being a brat.” He grits his teeth, sinking his nails into the steering wheel. “I think we both know that’s pretty much how I act around you—around anyone, really—and if I remember it clearly, you said being a brat was part of my charm. That was, of course, before you met this oh-so-mature Jung fucking Jaehyun and suddenly, now, I’m fucking annoying.”

“I didn’t just meet him, Hyuck.” You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I’ve been friends with him since high school.”

He clicks his tongue in aggravation, quietly adding, “Friends that fucked each other whenever your parents weren’t around, I’m sure.” And he probably didn’t mean his words to be heard because he just said them out of spite, but you did hear him and it makes your blood sparks in fury.

“Actually, yes,” you jeer back, “We did. He was the one who took my virginity away, just so you know and—WHOA!”

The sudden turn of the wheels makes you yelp and scramble to wrap your fingers tightly around your seatbelt as if you were hanging for dear life, and Haechan suddenly stomps his feet on the brakes, messily parking his car on the side of the street and earning a lot of angry car honks from the drivers behind him in return.

“What?!” He shouts, eyes wide, completely ignoring the passerby or the fact that you’re still trying to catch your breath. “You had sex with him?!”

“Once, Donghyuck, Jesus Christ!” You almost yank every strand of your hair out of your head. “Just once! And I never did that with anyone else until I met you!”

“I can’t believe you never told me this! And now you just hang around with him behind my back?!”

“What’s there to tell?! It’s in the past, way back when I didn’t even know your name. It’s not like you tell me things like this too. I don’t have problems with you sleeping with hundreds of girls before you met me.”

The sudden silence that surrounds you snap you back to reality and you regret everything you just said because you know you didn’t mean it. Well, it certainly has been bugging you for quite some time whenever you think about how easy and casual he’s always been when it comes to sex—not to mention how experienced he is—so you can’t help but wonder. You do understand that it’s not fair blurting about it to him like this, though. Especially not in this situation.

And the way he just suddenly becomes mute almost makes you shudder.

“Hyuck, I didn’t mean—”

“So that’s how you think of me?” He asks, voice low and deep. “Is that the reason why you’re seeing him? Because you don’t trust me?”

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you almost scream from all this frustration you’re venting out. “This is getting out of hand. Okay, first, that was wrong of me to say that and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. And second, stop being so jealous—I was only out with him to get some coffee. We no longer have feelings for each other, I can assure you that.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, “Sure. Whatever.”

“Hyuck, he’s my boss! I was just being polite—”

“Well, that’s just fucking great, isn’t it? No wonder you keep insisting on taking this job. It’s not even about the money now, is it?” He slams his hand against the steering wheel, groaning out, “I’m so fucking stupid,” before he throws his head to the side, glaring at the scenery outside his window instead of you.

There’s silence hanging in the air again and you take a deep breath to calm yourself as much as you can because you know where this is going. You just hope you’re wrong. “Why does it sound like you’re accusing me of cheating on you?”

“Because maybe deep down, that’s what you’re doing?” He’s not even looking at you when he says it, but the bitterness in his voice is clear and it’s loud enough to finally tweak the final string of patience you have left in you.

So you grab your purse, carry your jacket in one arm and step down from the car. “I’m taking a cab,” you say and when he still doesn’t look at you, you add, “Come talk to me when you’re mature enough to have this conversation.”

And not knowing your own strength, you slam the door until his ears begin to ring.

***

It’s the worst fight you’ve ever had, not just with him but with anyone else too. You’re more the type that avoids situations like this—one that says sorry even when you know you’re not doing anything wrong just to reduce the tension, so this fight you’re having with Haechan has been ruining your mood for a whole damn week since day one. And the fact that he doesn’t come to apologize or even send a text or two is driving you insane.

You can’t help but to dwell in his way of thinking, trying to see whether it’s really your fault that this is happening. Yes, maybe you should’ve explained better, but he wasn’t really giving you the chance to do it, was he? And yes, maybe you should’ve told him about you hanging out with Jaehyun every now and then or the fact that he’s your boss but you just couldn’t find the right timing before. Well, it’s certainly too late to start now.

Should I call him…?

Because you miss him. You miss Haechan so badly. You miss his bratty smile, you miss his annoying whine, you miss his stupid dazzling smile, you miss his scent, his kiss, his embrace—everything about him. You didn’t realize how close he was to you—already becoming a big part of your life—and you just really notice it now when he’s completely out of your sight.

“Fuck this.” You’re in the middle of searching his name in your contacts and about to press dial when suddenly you get his message.

Can we meet tomorrow?

It’s really weird that a simple text can make your heart race and almost send you jumping in delight. Trying to keep your heart rate back to normal, you type back.

Of course. What time? Where?

You wait for his reply and it seems like the time suddenly slows down where seconds feel like hours. You nibble at your bottom lip, hesitating at first but sending it anyway.

I miss you, Haechannie.

Your heart starts hammering against your ribcage again. A lot of thoughts begin entering your mind at the same time, making you worry about what if he wants to meet me because he wants to break up with me? What if he doesn’t miss me and he’s grossed out with my text? What if—

His reply arrives with a slight ding coming from your phone, and with shaky hands, you open his text.

I’ll text you the time and place tomorrow morning.

There’s a disappointment that bubbles up inside your chest but the next text from him erases all of that almost instantly.

I miss you too, Noona. Good night.

And you think that maybe tonight, you can finally have a good sleep.

***

“Can you fill in for tonight?”

It’s the first thing your manager said to you the second you stepped inside the restaurant. You haven’t even taken your jacket yet, and it’s really rare to see your manager walking around the place on a Sunday morning but here she is, and she’s already ordering things around.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry. “Pardon?”

“There will be a banquet tonight for the Jeong family and we need every waiter we can get. I know you’re lousy at your job but Jaehyun-Sajangnim seems to like you so I hope you can stick longer for a few hours.”

“I…” You wet your lower lip anxiously. “I can’t. I already promised someone—”

“Look, this is not a request. It’s an order.” She seems like she’s running out of patience. “But I’ll pay handsomely for your time. I think you need the money to pay for those two plates you broke anyway. You know how expensive they are.”

You wince. “Yes, Ma’am.” It’s not like she’s leaving you with any other option. You figure you can call Haechan later during your break time. It’s still not confirmed anyway, your date with him. You’ll think of a way to make it up to him.

It’s only for a few hours anyway, right?

I’ll just text him now. You dip your hand into your purse, trying to find your iPhone as fast as you can. You run your fingers along the screen, typing letters with your thumbs.

Haechannie, something came up and I have to stay longer at work. I’ll see you later tonight at your place and we can talk then.

“What are you doing standing around like that?” Your manager suddenly shouts and you almost drop your phone in surprise. “Go and change your uniform now, we’re opening the place in ten minutes!”

“Y-yes, Ma’am!” You fumble with your steps, throwing your phone back into your purse in a hurry. You inwardly sigh. Today is going to be a long day.

I’m sorry, Haechannie.

***

“Great work today,” Jaehyun says when most of his family members have left the restaurant. You didn’t realize how big and wealthy his family was so it amazed you that one family could occupy the whole seatings they have in this place. There were more than thirty people in the room before and you had to change your high heels into a pair of flat shoes so you can run from one table to another while carrying several plates at once.

“Not really, I almost broke another plate today,” you respond with a sigh, which earns a low chuckle in return. Jaehyun has his back leaning against the wall just an arms reach away from the front door, waiting for you to finish shoving all your belongings into your bag before he curls his fingers around the doorknob and twists it open.

“Thanks,” you say, almost sheepishly because it looks weird, no matter how you see it—your boss is opening the door for you. “Stop being so nice, Jae, you’re making other staff jealous.”

“But I do this to all my staff,” Jaehyun snickers, following after your trail.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hey,” he calls, placing his hand on your shoulder so you’ll stop on your track and turn around to face him. “Thank you.”

You raise your eyebrow questioningly. “For what?”

“For acting like how you normally do around me,” he explains, smiling a little bit bashfully. “For not being so awkward after our break-up.”

“Oh… Well…” You try to focus your gaze somewhere else, suddenly finding the silver watch you wear around your wrist entertaining. “It’s been years since then, I think we both have moved on by now, right?”

There’s a thick tension growing between the two of you and you almost beg him to say something before it starts to suffocate you.

“Sure,” he says, but the pressure in his tone speaks otherwise. You look up to meet his eyes, expecting him to smile and bring another topic into the conversation, but all he does is just gazing at you with these gentle, almost longing eyes that make your heart stops for a split second.

You know this can’t go any further.

“Well, uhh,” Jaehyun clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, perhaps feeling rather embarrassed himself. “It’s already late. Do you want me to escort you back to your place?”

And you find it hard to form a sentence, still somewhat baffled from the way he’s acting around you, and you’re so unfocused that when another voice enters your hearing, it shocks you down to your spine.

“I’ll be taking her from here,” Haechan says, startling you both and you turn around so fast on your heel to face him that you almost stumble forward. Your boyfriend is standing with one hand carrying a black suit and another one digging inside the pocket of his pants, dressed nicely in a white buttoned up with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He has the top two buttons of his shirt loosened, showing a glimpse of his collar bones and the silver necklace he usually hangs around his neck. His short brown hair is parted to the side, slightly pushed back to showcase his temple. You’ve never seen him dressed so sharp and elegantly before since the first day you met him and you can’t help but feel a little bit starstruck from the way he looks. But you soon realize that there must be a reason why he’s so dressed up and you feel terrible because you don’t know what it is.

What day is it today?

“Haechan—”

The way he grabs your hand shows how agitated he actually is despite the calm facade he places on his face, and it’s glaringly possessive the way he drags you to match his step on the way to his car but you follow him without a word, not even sparing a glance at Jaehyun who’s looking at him as if he just stole something important from him. Haechan opens the door to the passenger seat, and you climb in with your heart thrumming loud against your chest.

Haechan walks to the other side without making eye contact with Jaehyun but even at that point, your ex-boyfriend doesn’t dare to say a word or make a move, probably because he knows he has no right to do so. Haechan does not look angry and neither does he act like it but the quietness that fills the space between you, even when his car engine is blaring noisily outside, speaks louder than everything that he does.

“Umm.” You suddenly feel parched, your throat burning with every word you try to form. “T-thank you for picking me up.” You’re about to flinch from how terrible you just sounded. “I thought you were waiting at the dorm. Didn’t you get my text?”

It takes a few seconds that feel like forever for him to answer. “I don’t know, did you send me one?” He simply asks, voice flat and nonchalant, as he switches the gears of his car.

Did I not? You gulp in horror and begin to frantically search for your phone in your purse. Your heart almost leaps out from your chest when you see your phone is dead, probably ran out of battery sometimes during your hectic hours. You didn’t check on it before because you thought that Haechan most likely had seen your text and was waiting for you at the dorm, so you decided to just run in a hurry without texting him that your shift had ended. You were also busy talking with Jaehyun and felt it wouldn’t be polite for you to check on your phone while he was around.

But, as you connect your phone to your power bank, turning it on, and run your thumbs along the screen, you notice one thing: you didn’t send him anything.

“I’m—” A shiver runs down your spine. “I’m sure I texted you before—why—” You remember how your manager suddenly interrupted you when you were about to send the text. You must have forgotten to press send, and seeing how there are suddenly a lot of messages coming to your phone at once from him makes your heart drop to the floor.

I’ve made a reservation at Boccalino at 7 p.m. I know how you’ve always wanted to go there. Wear something nice.

Where are you now? Are you still at work? Do you want me to pick you up?

You’re probably busy at work. I’ll just see you at our table, okay? Don’t be late.

I haven’t heard from you. Where are you? I’m on my way to the restaurant to make sure our reservation is still on.

All my calls are going straight to voicemails. Where are you?

You’re an hour late. Where are you?!

You can feel the tremble in your fingertips as you hold your phone, your eyes running back and forth in horror. Haechan still doesn’t speak a word, focusing his eyes entirely on the road that lays in front of him.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Even though you know you’re already so out of line and probably won’t be forgiven anytime soon, you still apologize because what else can you say? “I didn’t realize my phone was dead. And I was sure I’d texted you but—”

“It’s fine,” he says as he props his elbow against his window, rubbing the side of his temple with his fingertips. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And with that, the conversation ends. Your thoughts are running fast, trying to come up with a better apology or find a way to patch things up but you can’t. The more plans you make, the more you hate yourself for being so stupid and ruin this whole thing for him. The drive back to your dorm is filled with nothing but silence, and you spend the entire time counting the street light that glows faintly on the side of the road.

You do notice something, though. Haechan’s phone keeps on making little sounds, notifying him that he’s receiving text messages and chats. There was also a phone call which he ignored even when the street light was red, only saying, “I’ll just call back later,” when you nervously ask him about it.

It’s when he walks you back to your dorm, that you begin to gain the courage to ask about it. “You’re getting awfully a lot of texts today.”

“They just want to congratulate me,” he says, tucking his hands in his pockets so you can’t take a hold of any of them as you walk beside him.

“On what?”

“My birthday.”

You wish the earth could just swallow you whole because how fucking ignorantly stupid can you be? It’s the sixth of June today, and you were so busy dealing with the fight and minding your own business that you forgot the birthday of the most important person in your life right now. You can feel how your legs almost give out under your weight, your head’s spinning.

And apparently, you’re doing it again, so lost in your own thoughts that Haechan has to say, “We’re here,” to snap you back to reality. You’re now standing gawkily in front of the door to your room, palms getting sweaty from how nervous you are. Haechan murmurs something about seeing you later and you’re about to burst into tears from how terrible you feel for him so you hastily grab him by his wrist, fingers almost sinking into his skin from how desperate you’re being.

“Stay with me,” you beg with quivers in your voice. “Please, just—I need to talk to you.”

Haechan stares at you with cold eyes, his jaw clenching slightly. But he doesn’t pull back his arm and follows your trail with heavy steps as you step inside your room. He closes the door behind him and leans his back against it, still not saying anything.

You’re so occupied with trying to form a coherent sentence that you forget to be thankful about how your roommate is away for the weekend again, providing you the opportunity to have the entire room for yourself. You decide to not make any excuses and apologize for every little dumb thing you’ve been doing for the whole day—no, for a whole week even, since the time your fight started. But no matter what you say, Haechan is staring at you with lifeless eyes, as if he’s just too tired to listen—as if he just no longer cares.

And that scares the life out of you.

“Hyuck, please,” you whisper, closing the distance between you until you can feel his warm breath caressing your cheek. You have your palm pressing against the side of his face, “Say something.” You know it’s not right, but you lean in for a kiss. It’s not just because you’re desperate to pull an emotion out of him; it’s more because you miss him so terribly so, it’s driving you crazy.

Haechan has his eyes closed by instinct but he doesn’t kiss back, only letting your lips linger on him, sharing his breath. And though it feels like there’s a javelin slowly sinking into your chest, you try again, kissing him with more passion, hooking your arm around his neck to pull him closer. Haechan tears himself away, his gaze turning dark as he stares at you and you look at him back with desperation in your eyes.

“Haecha—”

It’s like something snaps inside him and he suddenly no longer has control over his own free will, because Haechan is now pushing your body against the door, slamming your spine against the surface none too gently with his hands on each side of your head, lips chasing after yours. You let out a gasp, both from the shock and the pain that stings from the back of your head, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you deeper, tongue delving in to explore the inside of your mouth. His fingers trail down from your cheeks to your jaw, before they rest on the sides of your neck, his fingertips probing against your veins. You’re not sure whether he does it unconsciously from the sheer excitement or something else but the way his hand is holding you by the neck, his fingers low key choking you make your adrenaline runs faster.

He doesn’t give you the chance to process every single thing that’s happening, or even breathe, for that matter. The next thing you know, he already has his hands running down to your thighs, pulling them up so you have no other choice but to tangle your legs around his waist and groan when he presses your hips together. Hearing the sound of his name tumbling down your lips in a desperate, needy moan, Haechan groans at the back of his throat, his hands moving up to palm your breasts before they start to struggle with your shirt.

You’re doing the same thing, just as eager to get him out of his white shirt so you can latch your lips on his smooth sun-kissed skin. But unlike you who struggle to unbutton his shirt one by one, Haechan’s patience is wearing thin so he ends up just ripping your uniform, buttons clattering down to the floor.

“Wait, Hyuck—” You’re forced to swallow whatever it is you’re trying to say when Haechan sinks his teeth down to the skin that connects your neck to your shoulder, pushing the fabric of your shirt down to expose more of your bare skin. Your whole body shudders, clutching to him with every strength you have. It hurts, the way he bites and nibbles along your sensitive skin, but at the same time, it sends electricity down to every inch of your body.

“Do you have any idea how fucking pissed I am right now?” He says in a low, dangerous voice as he gnaws around your earlobe. “Turn around.”

With his nails sinking into your hips, he forces you to turn on your heel, pressing the side of your face against the door and tears your shirt away from your body. He doesn’t immediately take off your bra like he usually does, and instead focusing first on slipping his fingers underneath the band, thumbs glossing over your hardened nipples as he applies wet kisses on your nape. You almost let out a sob when his hand travels south, raking his fingers against your stomach before he takes off your skirt in such a hurry, leaving you in nothing but your black stockings and your laced panties.

Your entire body jolts when he slips a hand between your legs, rubbing you over your underwear before he suddenly pushes the fabric down and runs his fingertips along your folds.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he whispers in your ear, his breath fanning your neck. “I’m surprised you like being treated like this.” But when you cry out his name, begging for him to stop teasing you already, he chuckles lowly. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

You’re sure that you’re just reacting this way because it’s him and not anybody else and you want to tell him that but you can barely form a word with him rubbing his fingertips along your clit. “You’re actually quite dirty, aren’t you?” He brings two of his fingers to your lips, forcing you to suck them into your mouth and you oblige, knowing what he’s intending to do. You coat them with as much saliva as you can before he brings his hand down to your heat again, this time inserting one finger into your entrance with another one following soon after.

You hiss his name under your breath, becoming a little lightheaded from all this sensation you’re having at once. “What do you want me to do?” He asks tauntingly, knowing he’s in charge of everything.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, eyes tightly shut at the feeling of him finger fucking you to oblivion. “I want you inside me, Hyuck, fuck.”

“Maybe in a few minutes.” His teasing tone is back but it’s different. It’s almost menacing this time, somewhat heartless. He picks up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of you until you find yourself biting your lip to contain your sob. “Do you know what I want?” He carves his words against your skin, taking a handful of your hair with his other free hand and yanking it back so you can’t help but face the ceiling. His lips are hovering dangerously close against your ear. “I want to fuck you raw. We’ve never done that before, have we? I want to come inside you—want to see my cum dripping down your thighs when I’m finished with you.”

Fuck. You almost cry from the temptation. “Then do it. I don’t care just—” You arch your back, sinking yourself down to his fingers, moaning against the side of his neck. “Please, just fuck me, Hyuck.”

“Good girl,” he replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice but you don’t care. He can be as cocky as he wants for the night because you secretly like it. You like how confident he is during sex, how passionate and sexy he can get, and how desperate and uncontrolled he becomes at the end. You can feel your stomach flip at the anticipation, especially when you hear him working on his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down only low enough for him to free himself.

“Let me fuck your mouth first,” he demands and you find yourself succumbing to his orders, turning around to face him before you drop to your knees, the tip of his cock protruding against your lips.

Haechan is still holding himself back, you’re sure, because he lets you take your own pace at first but his dominating persona comes back almost immediately when you only give him tentative licks against his slit. “Open up,” he orders, his fingers finding home in your hair and you loosen up your jaw to take him deeper.

Tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes from how hard he’s hitting the back of your throat but you try to keep up. He moves his hips, enjoying the warmth of your mouth. When you feel him twisting his fingers around the strands of your hair, you look up to see his expression. Haechan has his head thrown back in pleasure, his lips parted in a silent moan and you hum proudly to yourself when he brings his eyes down to meet yours. They’re glazed with lust and he’s so sexy like this with his breathing ragged, soft moans flowing like music to your ears. And he’s probably feeling the same about you, from the way he pushes the bangs out of your eyes, taking every detail of your face as you hollow your cheeks, swallowing when his taste falls upon your tongue.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, “You look so perfect like this. You’re so fucking sexy, do you know that?” You hum, running your tongue along the prominent vein, giving kitten licks around the tip. Something gleams in his eyes and suddenly he commands you to stand up and pushes your body against the wall again, face first.

“Do you know how excited I was for today?” He grabs you by the waist, pushing his palm against your shoulder blades so you’ll bend lower, and positions himself against your entrance from behind. “I wanted to celebrate my birthday with you—just with you, Noona—even after our fight, I still wanted to spend it with you—”

“I know,” you gasp, thighs trembling when he rubs his tip against your folds. “I’m sorry—I was too busy with—“

“With work?” He taunts, “Or with that guy you’ve been seeing?”

“No—” A sudden yelp flows out of your mouth when he abruptly pushes himself entirely inside of you in one quick motion, his nails digging into the skin of your hips. Haechan moans a tad louder, much breathier, with his eyebrows knitted together in ecstasy. He’s more sensitive now since he’s not using a condom, directly feeling how wet and hot you are around him, how every clench makes him lose his mind and you can feel him twitching inside you. “Haechan—wait—”

He thrusts forward with such brute force, you find yourself pressed against the door. The dorm is quiet and with the way he’s slamming his hips against yours, the door making rhythmic banging noises against its frames, you’re sure you’re going to be noticed sooner or later.

“The bed—” You gasp, searching for the hands he has on your hips. “Let’s move to the bed—”

“Later,” he groans, his mind sinking in the way your heat is enveloping him.

“People can—” You have your eyes tightly shut when his thrusts get stronger. “They can hear us, Hyuck—”

He tangles his hand around your locks, making a messy ponytail out of them so he can yank on your hair as he rocks his hips faster. “I don’t fucking care,” he growls, “Let everyone know you’re mine.”

It feels fucking amazing the way he’s all breathless and rough, fucking you senselessly as if the world is ending, and it’s not long before your legs start to give up on you, quivering under the sensation.

“Fuck,” Haechan takes a sharp intake of breath, pulling you back against him when you’re about to fall. “Tired already, babe?” His chuckles are unfamiliar to your ears, as if he was mocking instead of teasing but you can’t really comment on it because he’s now pushing you down to the floor, forcing you to stay on all fours. “Now, now, what do we do?” He asks, spreading your thighs but holds your ass firmly in the air. “I’m just getting started.”

Every thrust of his hip feels like fire running all over your body and you can’t believe how good he is at hitting that particular spot deep inside you. You bite your lower lip to keep your voice down and Haechan notices it so he leans close, his chest pressing against your spine and you feel his lips and teeth caressing the crook of your neck as he speaks.

“Stop holding back your voice.” His voice sounds sultry, almost sinful to your ears. “I’ve told you before, right? I like hearing you say my name when we do this. Let me hear you moan.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want anyone to hear—“

“Well,” he doesn’t even let you finish. “I guess I’ll just have to force it out of you then.”

He slows down his pace, and instead of giving you fast, shallow thrusts, he focuses his strength on making each thrust hard and deep. You can feel your breathing being knocked out of your lungs, your toes curling in pleasure and if he keeps doing this, you know you’re not gonna last long. Your orgasm hits you so hard, a whimper falling from your mouth the way he likes it, and your body begins to shake.

Haechan laughs quietly against your ear. “You came, didn’t you? It feels so good—you feel so good around my cock.” He grabs you by the chin and roughly angles your head to face him. He kisses you hard, leaving you even more breathless than you already are before he says, “It’s my turn now.”

Haechan flips you to your back, spreading your legs wide as he sits on his knees, holding your ankles in the air like how he did the first time you had sex with him. Maybe it’s his favorite position, almost splitting your body in half, and seeing your face and your breasts bouncing up and down with every movement of his hips. You’re still dazed, reeling in the afterglow when Haechan pushes back into you again without warning, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, his lips parted forming your name between his breathy moans.

“I’ll never get tired of how you look when I fuck you like this,” he says, smirking in the sexiest way you’ve ever seen him do. “You’re so goddamn irresistible, you know that?”

It’s frightening how different and rough he’s being right now, and you’re about to cry out because you miss him—you miss the way he used to be. The adorable, annoying little tease that he was. How can you bring him back?

“Haechannie,” you call out, voice soft and quiet almost in a whisper. “I love you.”

His movement stops almost immediately, his eyes widening in surprise. He locks his gaze back with yours, his grip on your legs becoming loose. “What?”

“I love you,” you repeat, placing your legs down so you can sit up from your position. Your back feels sore, screaming in pain but you try not to wince. You reach out to grab his face, running your thumb along his lower lip. “I love you, Lee Donghyuck.” You kiss him gently, merely pressing your lips against his and you can feel how his body stiffen under your touch. “So calm down, because I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you, as long as you let me.”

Haechan is still very much speechless and you decide to take control. You carefully push him down so he can sit back on the floor before you climb into his lap. You kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair before you slide down, enveloping him once again. There’s a small moan escaping his lips, which you immediately capture with your own and his hands find their way back to your hips again.

“That’s not fair,” he says, his cheeks reddening slightly though he’s still scowling at you. “You’re just saying that so I won’t be angry with you anymore.”

“That too, but,” you’re interrupted by a moan that departs from your lips, can barely handle the way he twitches inside you. “I’ve been feeling that way for quite some time now. Especially when we fight. I just missed you so much, I couldn’t stand it.”

His pout is growing back on his face, though not as apparent. “Well, whose fault do you think is that?” It’s perfect, the way he moves inside you and it’s driving him crazy whenever you clench your walls around him.

“There’s nothing between me and Jaehyun, I promise you,” you softly murmur as you place open-mouthed kisses down his neck. “I’d never cheat on you, Hyuck. You know that, right?”

He shivers slightly under your touch, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Still,” he breathes out, “It doesn’t mean I’m fine with you meeting him behind my back.”

“He’s my boss, I wouldn’t be able to avoid him even if I wanted—” You have to end your sentence short when he rubs his thumb against your clit, reeling in the sensation. “Hyuck, you’re going to make me come again at this rate.”

“Good, because I intend to make you come at least three times tonight.” He snickers against your lips. “So you won’t be able to forget who owns you.”

His movements become sloppy, going out of rhythm, even more desperate with each thrust and when you whisper with his earlobe between your teeth, “Happy birthday, baby,” he comes undone almost immediately with his face hiding between the slope of your neck.

He lays you down to the floor again, gently this time, before he hovers above you, his arms shaking slightly. “Holy shit,” he exhales, cheeks flushed and beads of sweat forming on his temple. “I think I came a lot inside you.”

“Glad I’m taking some pills then,” you reply, smiling a little as you cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the mole under his left eye. “You okay?”

“Are you okay?” He asks instead. “Was I too rough? Are you hurt somewhere?”

“Why is it that whenever we have sex, you end up asking me these questions?” You chuckle. “Yes, you were. And yes, I am hurt. My back is killing me.”

“I’m…” There’s a slight panic flitting across his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it was kinda hot seeing you all riled up like that. It’s like you turned into a completely different person.” You pull him down by his necklace, murmuring against his lips, “I won’t mind if you fuck me like that again sometimes.”

It’s funny that after all of this that just happened, he actually blushes over your words. Quietly cursing under his breath, he leans back on his heels, slowly pulling out of you and stare intently at how his cum starts to seep out of you.

“Goddamn…” he mumbles, eyes unblinking as if he’s in a trance. “I really did come a lot inside you.”

“Consider that your birthday gift. Also, can you stop looking at me like that—it’s embarrassing.” You don’t usually get embarrassed about sexual stuff, especially now that your boyfriend’s shamelessness kind of rubs off on you, but Haechan really knows how to push your buttons.

Seeing you fidget out of shame, Haechan’s eyes twinkle, his lips forming a teasing grin. “No, wait, let me clean you up.” Despite what he says, he slowly pushes one finger into you, with another one following right after and you part your lips in a gasp but loss for words when you see him playing with his cum that’s mixed with yours, smearing it on the inside parts of your thigh.

“Haechannie,” you gasp, feeling his fingers inside you once again, with his thumb rubbing over your clit. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He grins, showcasing his perfect teeth. “I’m going to make you come again. And then you’re going to make me come again.” His face hovers above yours, wetting his bottom lip as he stares lustfully at you. “Since it’s my birthday and you’re obliged to do whatever I want.”

You gulp. You’re going to be so sore tomorrow.

***

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writertitan · 4 years ago

Text

Grandfather Clock

pairing: levi x f!reader

word count: 4173

themes: adult f!reader, arranged marriage, multi-part fic, levi is a stubborn asshole at first, no love at first sight here folks

requested by anon

a/n: hi guys! i’ve never done a multi-part fic on Tumblr before, but this fic requested ended up being super long, and i figured it would be fun (and easier) to break into parts! here is part 1!

PART 1

With the parchment clutched in one hand, Levi had only one thought in mind.

“This is ridiculous.”

Erwin gazed at him calmly, but Levi knew him well enough to see the hint of sympathy behind those emotionless blue eyes. Sympathy that meant nothing to the shorter man.

“I’m not doing it.”

“You’re going to do it, because you must,” Erwin answered smoothly. “We need Lord Reader’s generous funding, and he evidently needs to marry off his daughter. Believe me, Levi, I tried to have it fall on me. The lord didn’t take too kindly to the idea.”

Levi scoffed, a brow raised. “And he was happier about me?”

“Humanity’s Strongest is less likely to make a widow out of her,” Erwin explained.

He had an answer for everything. Levi could tell the commander had come well-prepared for what was sure to be a hard conversation.

He glanced down at the papers again, detailing the terms for marriage, and he grimaced despite trying desperately to keep an aloof facade. They were practically buying this girl and it was all political.

“She’s not too young, is she?” Levi asked, voice lower, quieter.

“Wouldn’t have agreed to a child bride,” Erwin assured him, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I’m not that much of a devil.”

“Can I meet her first?” Levi sighed, running a hand through his hair. The tightness in his chest wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, and it irritated him to know that.

“Will it make a difference? You’ve already agreed.”

“I haven’t.”

“I know you, Levi. You agreed the moment I asked. And I’m sorry.”

-----

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror for a final time before straightening up and letting out the shaky breath you’d been holding in.

Before last month, you’d never been mixed into your father’s business deals. If anything, you tried hard to stay out of his way. As if hiding would make him forget about you, forget that he could use you as a pawn.

As his daughter, you were born to be married off, most likely to someone of equal status. To say that annoyed you and saddened you would be an understatement. There was no freedom of choice for you, ever. And now here you were, found by your father after a lifetime of hiding from him, to be used for political gain, the very thing you wanted to avoid.

“Ready?” your mother asked from the doorway. She looked proper, clean, and poised as she stood at your bedroom door, hands neatly clasped in front of her. A very stark difference from how you felt and looked.

“No,” you admitted. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“He probably won’t,” your mother answered, truthful as ever. “Your father and I didn’t like each other when we first met. It comes with time, my darling.”

That didn’t really make you feel better. Like is not the same as love. And, judging from what you’d witnessed over your life, your parents didn’t much love each other. They liked each other well enough, as your mother had said, but didn’t love each other.

You hadn’t been fretting about if Captain Levi would like you. You’d been fretting that he’d never love you.

Still, you steeled your nerves and followed your mother out of your room and towards the dining room, where you’d meet your fiance for the first time and get to know each other, and perhaps talk engagement plans throughout the evening.

You’d heard plenty of rumours about Captain Levi, the overwhelming amount detailing him to be incredibly strong, incredibly small, and incredibly stoic. Now, you’d get to see for yourself.

Two servant girls opened the double doors for you and your mother and you let her step in first, following behind her like a shy little child. Your heart hammered in your chest as you scanned the room, first spotting the familiar blue eyes that belonged to Commander Erwin, and then stopping when your eyes met a pair of grey ones that held no emotion.

Captain Levi.

You gulped. Stoic, check.

Instantly, you noticed that even sitting down, Erwin looked much bigger than him.

Small, check.

Your face grew hot as Commander Erwin and Captain Levi both stood at your arrival, and your gaze turned to your feet when they both nodded their greetings to you. You gave a small curtsy and sat down across from Levi when ushered to your seat, and offered him a small smile.

He was handsome. Very much so, in fact. His face was angular and quite masculine, and you found yourself taking in his thin brows and neatly combed hair.

You gave him your name, shuffling nervously in your seat as you followed up with, “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Captain Levi.”

For a moment, Levi said nothing. The room was quiet and the silence was suffocating. From the next room over, you could hear the grandfather clock ticking away.

“Likewise,” he finally said, voice gruff, and he looked away from you quickly, as if you weren’t important.

As if you were nothing.

Your heart sunk.

You hadn’t made a good first impression.

Granted, neither did he, but your father had already pounded into your brain how important this dinner was. You would have to be on your best behavior. You’d have to make sure Levi liked what he saw. Judging by his reaction towards you, he most certainly did not like what he saw.

Don’t cry, you scolded yourself in your mind when you felt tears threaten to prickle out. No time for crying now. Try again.

“Thank you for agreeing to come out and spend the evening with us,” you said as you unfolded your napkin onto your lap. Levi wouldn’t meet your gaze. Your father and Erwin were already deep in a conversation together, with your mother politely nodding along, and Levi looked as though he would rather be involved in that conversation than the one you were trying to initiate.

He hummed some response you couldn’t make out before turning his attention towards Erwin and your father, leaving you to your own devices. The tears threatened to prick your lash line again but you blinked them away and looked down to the plate of supper you were served moments later.

The rest of dinner was spent with you silent at the end of the table and Levi eventually moving his chair to huddle closer to everyone else, with your father passionately talking about the scouting regiment and his views on the Military Police.

At one point, you had scooted closer as well, and tried to give one final shot at making a good first impression.

“I really admire the Scouts. I think I got that from my father,” you said, leaning towards Levi. Your father was still babbling away, so you kept your voice at a whisper that only Levi would be able to hear.

He spared you a glance but said nothing, immediately turning back to listen to whatever your father was saying.

That was it.

You felt fully discarded as Levi’s body turned from you, and though he was only across the table from you, the distance you felt mentally and emotionally made him appear worlds away.

But you could take the hint. You shut up after that and kept to yourself, forcing down the resentment you were beginning to feel.

Of course Captain Levi wouldn’t be happy about this arrangement. He probably had girls throwing themselves at him. He probably could have had his pick if he hadn’t been forced into this marriage with you.

No, not marriage.

A deal. A business deal.

No matter how much you wanted to, it would have been impolite to just walk back to your room. After all, the deed was done, and you just had to play nice to appease your parents and make sure all went smoothly.

But how was this smooth?

Nothing about this was going smoothly.

Still, you stayed silent and stood up straight in your chair while brandy was poured and dessert was served. You picked at the food but downed the brandy in one swig when you felt nobody was watching.

But when you met Levi’s empty gaze as you set your glass down, you froze in embarrassment, quickly looking away. After several failed attempts at starting a conversation with him, you decided to keep quiet. A girl could take a hint. Unladylike behavior wasn’t something you wanted to discuss, anyway.

And when Commander Erwin finally stood with your father, Levi following suit a little too quickly, you also stood with relief and a twinge of sadness and said your goodbyes to the two men.

“Lovely to meet you,” you said to Erwin and Levi; you found it much easier to address them both at the same time rather than embarrass yourself any more than you already had.

Another curtsy, and then you were free to leave. You barely listened to Erwin’s polite goodbye, and you knew better than to hope for a word out of Levi.

The tears came before you could even find solace in your bedroom. As you hurried up the stairs, they sprang to your eyes and blurred your vision as you fumbled with the doorknob, until at long last it gave way and you could let yourself inside.

You closed the door quietly and then locked it, slumping against the solid wood as you sniffled and wiped at your face with the back of your hand.

So this was what awaited you? A cold and distant husband. He’d take you away from the only home you’d ever known and marry you and resent you, even though you knew in your heart of hearts that you were the one entitled to the resentment. To be taken away from your family, to be taken away from your home, to be married off to some grumpy, little man who could barely put two words together...it was such a slap in the face.

Truthfully, you’d been so hopeful today. Part of you had secretly hoped for a nice first meeting. Part of you had secretly hoped that you’d walk into the room and see Levi and instantly be infatuated, and that he’d look at you and be pleasantly surprised, maybe even a little awed (a girl could dream), and things would flow. You’d been hoping to hold onto the hope of love. You’d wanted to believe there was a chance that he could love you down the line.

As you shrugged out of your dress to change into your nightgown, your naivety weighed heavily on you.

You would never know of love like that.

-----

Erwin’s disapproval buzzed around him like an aura on the ride home.

The lord had sent out for a carriage to fetch them, and Levi decided that he wasn’t the biggest fan of carriage rides. Not when they forced him to be stuck inside a confined space with someone who was angry at him.

“She’s innocent in this entire thing, Levi, like you are,” Erwin finally spoke up, after what Levi felt was ages of tense silence. “It was unfair of you to treat her that way. She was trying to get to know you, and you should have been trying to do the same. Remember that you were the one who pushed for this dinner.”

Levi clicked his tongue in dismay, scoffing a bit before meeting Erwin’s eyes.

“You asked me for one big fucking favor, Erwin, and I agreed to it. I’m doing this because I trust you. But don’t expect me to treat her as anything but a spoiled brat who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. That’s all she is to me,” he said with arms folded across his chest. He’d never felt so on guard before.

“She’ll be your wife,” Erwin reminded him, and the reminder only served to start the beginning of a headache.

Levi frowned, rubbing his head with one hand, before folding his arms again and looking out the small window of the carriage. Hardly anyone was out now, and he tried to get lost in his thoughts, anything that didn’t revolve around this ridiculous farce of a marriage. Was this really how nobles did things? Was this actually normal, to pawn off their children once it was convenient?

It made him sick.

“All I’m asking is that you show her some decency,” Erwin murmured.

Levi remained quiet. But when he thought back to your hurt face after each blatant rejection he’d given you, he felt the small pang of guilt he’d wanted to keep at bay.

You were just some spoiled little brat, he was sure of it. The fact that he was being given orders to be nice to you told him as much.

But Erwin was, unfortunately, right about one thing. You were innocent in all this. Despite what Levi thought of you, he knew that if you were feeling even a fraction of the turmoil he was feeling now, it would be best to at least tolerate you.

It would make things easier in an already quite uneasy situation.

Erwin seemed to pick up on Levi’s silent decision to do better. After that, the silence was comfortable.

-----

You would have thought the world would end before hearing from Captain Levi himself. The last thing you could have ever expected was now between your fingers, handed to you by a young apprentice boy.

“A letter? From Captain Levi?” you asked, still not quite comprehending.

“Yes, m’lady,” the boy confirmed, bowing once before backing out of the parlor where you were situated. Then, he sprinted out, bag of correspondence flying behind him. It made you smile.

When you looked back at the letter in your hands, with your name scrawled out in very neat handwriting, you felt your heart skip a beat in both fear and - unfortunately - hope.

You reached for the letter opener and tore the envelope open carefully, plucking out the parchment that held a very curt and concise message to you.

I’ll be visiting today for lunch.

- Captain Levi

A man of few words, as always.

You folded the letter again and shoved it back into the envelope, heart racing as a million theories whirled through your mind.

Why was he coming? Was he calling off the whole arrangement? Was he warming up to you? Did he need something? Did he feel bad about the other night?

The nerves were too much.

And then the reality set in.

With a startled gasp, you looked up to the grandfather clock in the parlor to check the time.

“Oh, hell,” you cursed, jumping up from your seat to hurry back to your room and freshen up. It was ten o’clock, and maybe Levi was the type to stop by exactly at noon, when lunch would be served. It left you with only a couple of hours to get your wits about you and make sure his visit went smoothly.

You stopped one of the kitchen maids on your way to your room; she’d been clearing out the breakfast tray from your father’s room, and you couldn’t be bothered to care if she saw you frazzled like this.

“Captain Levi will be stopping by for lunch today. Make sure that Chef Erlo knows that,” you said in passing, half your instructions called out from over your shoulder. You barely registered her nod as you barged into your room to change into a prettier dress and check your appearance in the mirror.

Your eyes were wild, a little bright from adrenaline, but you looked fine otherwise. Hair still styled perfectly, jewelry in place. Nothing for him to complain about. You looked every bit the part of a lord’s daughter.

But the nerves had overtaken you. Only two hours. There was no time to waste.

-----

When Levi arrived for your lunch date, if you could even call it that, it was barely a quarter past noon. Your mother and father had agreed to let you lunch alone without their company, but you knew they’d be somewhere closeby, nosy as ever.

With the nice weather, you’d thought it would be a good idea to have lunch outside in the garden. The kitchen maids had already served out the lunch on the table outside, where you sat waiting for Captain Levi.

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t stop yourself from fidgeting around with all your nerves. The two-hour notice you’d been given apparently hadn’t been enough time to calm yourself down.

And your nerves only spiked when one of the maids stepped out and made way for Captain Levi.

He strode into the garden with a hard gaze, which landed on you immediately, and the maid scurried off as you practically jumped up from your seat to curtsy.

“Captain Levi,” you greeted him, voice a little shaky, but you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Damn. You’d forgotten how handsome he was. It made your nerves even worse.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me today,” he said stiffly before sitting down.

“I was...surprised,” you found yourself admitting, and then cleared your throat awkwardly when you realized what you’d said.

Levi sighed, eyes on the platters of food in front of him, and his already somber gaze seemed to grow even harder, more closed off.

“Do you not like any of the lunch options?” you asked him, trying to read his expression. “It’s really no trouble to tell Chef Er-”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, eyes meeting yours. “Just seems excessive for two people.”

Your face grew hot at that, and you nodded once in agreement.

“Yes, I agree.”

“Shame it’ll go to waste. I’m sure you’ll just be throwing it away?”

The way he posed the question also made it seem like a statement. Like he was answering his own question. It made your brow twitch in annoyance. So, Captain Levi thought himself a know-it-all.

Though, you couldn’t fault him for generalizing you with all the other noble families.

You decided to ignore the question, a little annoyed now, and even more impatient.

“Why are you here, Captain Levi?”

He sighed then, leaning back in his chair while he stared pointedly at the sliced lamb in front of him. Then, in a flash, his eyes were back on you.

“If we’re going through with this, I want to set some ground rules,” he began.

Again, your heart sank, just like it did when you’d first met him.

More rules to adhere to. As if you didn’t have to follow enough of them already.

“I’ll make more of an effort to...not be an asshole. But I also want you to understand that this isn’t ideal for me. I’m sure it’s not ideal for either of us.”

“Right,” you whispered sullenly, no longer meeting his gaze. You looked at your lap instead. “Not ideal.”

You could still feel Levi’s eyes on you as he spoke.

“I don’t want to rush the engagement. I think the more time we set aside, the better. It’ll help, having time to...get used to each other.”

“Okay,” you agreed, lifting your gaze to meet his again. “Anything else?”

Levi pausd for a moment, and then met your eyes directly. There was no wavering in his gaze.

“And I don’t want a wedding. I don’t want this to be some sort of spectacle where you invite all of your bratty friends. Just the ceremony so we can get this over with. I’m not a fan of parties.”

Though you really hadn’t given much thought to your wedding day, this request hit you hard.

He was asking you to give up your wedding day. When you were already giving up so much.

“Captain Levi…,” you started, but then trailed off, unable to find the words.

“It’s not up for discussion,” he told you, eyes hard again.

And what could you say? It wasn’t like you could refuse, and Levi knew that.

You’d never know love. You’d never know true freedom to make your own choices. And now, you wouldn’t even have one day to celebrate a milestone in your life, a day that would have at least been fun and eased all the other pain you’d have to endure.

You’d never have a real wedding day.

“Fine,” you said, voice just barely loud enough for Levi to hear. “Anything else?”

“No,” he said, and then filled his plate and began to eat.

He eyed the brandy with a suspicious look in his eye, one that you could have found endearing if it had happened a few minutes ago, but not now.

The lunch itself was mostly quiet. Levi even tried to start up some painful small talk, but you shut that down quickly with curt answers and no eye contact. It didn’t matter to you to act proper around him now. You’d agreed to his terms, it was settled. It was happening. And you were miserable.

When you heard the grandfather clock sound at the top of the hour, you had to suppress your sigh of relief as Levi stood.

“Thank you for lunch,” he said, and it sounded forced, even to you.

“Would you like to take some back to headquarters?” you asked, mostly out of politeness, but you paused when you saw Levi sincerely consider it, eyes conflicted.

But as suddenly as the emotion appeared on his face, it left, and he shook his head.

“No, but thank you.”

You nodded, silent, and turned when the same maid that had led Levi outside appeared, likely to lead him out. Her timing was impeccable. No doubt the work of your parents, watching from somewhere.

“Miss, I’ll send someone to clear away the trays,” she told you, and you shook your head quickly as you began to do the work yourself.

“Don’t be silly, I’ll do it myself,” you assured her, balancing a few trays on your arms.

You nodded once to Captain Levi, then gestured to the maid.

“Greta will see you out. Thank you for your company.”

With that, you wandered back inside, heading straight for the servants’ quarters. There was still quite a bit of food left, like Levi had predicted, but he’d been incorrect about it going to waste.

You knew that the sliced lamb was Greta’s favorite dish at the moment, and you knew that Chef Erlo could never turn down lemon pie, especially when he’d worked so hard to bake it himself. The new apprentice boy, Charlie, loved wild rice, which you still had plenty of. It would be enough for the entire staff to snack on.

Nothing would ever go to waste, and you’d be damned if you’d ever resort to not caring about your staff.

-----

As Levi approached the front door, his horse waiting for him outside, he turned to nod at the maid in gratitude. He couldn’t remember her name for the life of him, but that didn’t quite matter. He was just saying goodbye.

“Greta! Greta! Come quick before the lamb is gone!”

A boy, no older than ten, came bounding up to the maid, Greta, before Levi could get out the door.

Under any other circumstance, Levi would have just ignored the boy and left. But what he’d said made him pause.

Lamb?

The maid, Greta, shushed the boy while her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, knowing Levi was still there and witnessing such uncouth behavior.

“Lamb? The servants eat pretty well here, then, I take it,” Levi observed. “Unless you’re stealing.”

The boy’s ears turned pink at the accusation, and he shook his head quickly to deny it.

“No, sir! The lord’s daughter always brings us whatever’s leftover from the family’s meals, and helps us with chores sometimes. Greta says she thinks the miss leaves a lot of trays untouched on purpose for us!”

“Charlie!” Greta scolded, absolutely miffed, but if anything, it spurred the boy on.

“I’ll be sad when she leaves, but Greta says she’s getting married. Greta, let’s go before it’s all gone!”

Levi nodded his goodbye to the two of them and shuffled out the door before the poor girl could get any more embarrassed.

As he mounted his horse, his mind actually drifted back to you. This new information conflicted with his opinion of you, and it startled him.

Levi tugged on the reins of his horse to head back to base, but he caught one last glimpse of you in the window that peered into your dining room, sitting with what he assumed to be a cook on your staff judging by the outfit, the two of you laughing with plates of lemon pie in your hands.

He furrowed his brows, and let his gaze linger a little on your smile. He hadn’t seen you smile like that before.

Then, he nudged his horse and began trudging back to base. All he wanted to do was get back to work and erase the smiling image of you from his mind.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman oneshot #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi fanfiction #levi fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman #levi one shot #levi #aot fanfiction #aot oneshots #aot #snk fanfiction #snk

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vannybarber · 4 years ago

Text

The Prenup: Final Chapter

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

You lied.

You didn't come back the day after. Or the next day. In fact, you stayed at the hotel for almost a week. You didn't stay in the same clothes of course. You went out to buy everything you needed. Clothes, hygiene products, prenatal vitamins. You were the saddest and most ridiculous thing to walk this earth.

Lisa and Scott eventually came over with your permission of course. You couldn't say no to them. You weren't upset with them.

"How've you been, sweetie?" They both look for your answer, trying to read your face.

"To tell you the truth, I actually feel like an asshole. I honestly realize how immature I was. Chris definitely was, but I was stooping to that level myself. But I won't admit to him just yet. I want him to recognize how immature he was too."

It was crazy to even hear it from your own mouth. But you had time to think it over. You recognized how stupid you looked living in a hotel because you couldn't put your immaturity aside.

"Well this might be a shock to you, but I had a talk with him also and it might've did something." You make eye contact with her and your eyebrows jump. Indeed, you were surprised. She continues.

"I know you guys will be able to resolve this. But you need to try. You've have been together too long to let this get in between you two. I think he finally understands." She sets her hand on yours, which was placed in your lap.

He finally understood? You had to see this for yourself. You hoped to everything that she was right. You actually wanted to fix this and he needed to be on board and feel the same way.

It occurred to you after some time that his points were actually valid. It was just the way he came across is all. You were in your own feelings and took it really personal, which was understandable, but you got stubborn. Even though he got a prenup for his own reasons, you felt as if he didn't love you as much as you love him.

This could all be fixed, but he needed to set some boundaries with Megan. He had no choice. Wait till she finds out about the baby. Evidently none of the other Evans' knew about the baby because it was never brought up. You secretly thank Chris for keeping that between you guys, even though he was most likely still upset that you weren't gonna tell him about the baby right away.

You both are grown ass adults and you're having a child together. This bullshit needed to end.

"Oh my gosh this is great !! All my shit talking did some good." Lisa clears her throat at him. "Along with Ma's great advice of course." You just laugh. You loved your family.

"I think I'm ready to see him. Scratch that. I am ready to see him. I want my fianceé back." You smile and grasp your hands together. You don't think you've ever seen them smile so hard.

"Oh yeah we know you're pregnant." You stop smiling and stare at Scott like you've been caught in the cookie jar. "You know Chris can't keep his big mouth shut." Well that's a Gemini for you.

"Now its really important that you solve this. You're bringing another life into the world!" Lisa exclaims. "Plus I'm gonna have another grandbaby!!"

You giggle and shake your head. "Well we need to head over there right now then!"

Little did you know Chris was on the exact same page as you. Down to every line and every word.

He has always been indecisive and this situation really forced him to take some responsibility and rethink his behavior. You had all the reason to feel the way you did, his intentions clearly being missed by you. Whatever they even were.

He also decided that he was going to set Megan straight about his personal life and respecting you. You were his future wife. And now that you're bringing a baby into the world, she definitely needed to be put in check. He can't even believe how he allowed her to disrespect you like this.

Now he only hoped that you'd want to sort this out and forgive him. He needed you no matter what he said. He did make up excuses because your relationship was too good to be true. He's never had a connection like this before. He never allowed it, but clearly it was for a reason because it give you a chance to come in his life and completely change it for the better.

When he had gotten home from visiting you, his feelings were all over the place. Upset that you didn't come back with him and guilty for making you feel the way you did. He just felt like he was doing the right thing because Megan told him to. Deep down inside, he really didn't even want to get the stupid prenup anyway.

"So where's Y/N? Is she okay?" Shanna asked for everyone. They all expected you to come back too. They didn't know you were this stubborn.

"She's alright. She said she wasn't ready to come back just yet. Which I completely understand. But I feel like a failed once again." He slumps on the couch and lies back. "I don't deserve her at all."

"Now Chris, you know what you have. And what you have is good. Better than anything you had before. You two were made for each other. You're a hard head and I know you're not giving up this easily" Lisa says to him, taking a seat to his right.

"You know she's pregnant." He really shouldn't have said that and he knows it, but he can't keep a secret to save his own life. Everyone in the room gasps. "I found the tests in the bathroom. If I didn't go in there and discover them myself, she wasn't planning on telling me yet."

"Well she probably wanted to fix this before adding more on top of it." Scott adds. And he was absolutely correct.

"Well I'm happy for you! But I you still have this going on." Lisa's voice goes from excited to monotone. She's super happy, but she wished this could have been evented at a much better time.

"Well this could've made things better...or worse." Chris throws his NASA cap on the couch angrily.

Carly speaks up.

"You and Scott should go visit her. I doubt she'll turn it down."

"Yeah Ma. We should see where her heads at. Maybe her mind will change with our advice" Scott agrees. He loves you as a sister. Anything threatening that would have to be put to death immediately.

"Guys, I don't know about that. She seemed pretty definite on how she felt." Chris didn't want to make it worse than what it was, but he always found a way to do that anyway.

"Chris come on" Scott drags out. "We have to try."

"Y/N is a smart girl. She knows what she needs to do and it will come to her. I know it'll work out. And when it does, you'll realize your love is inevitable." Lisa smiles knowing she is absolutely right.

Now she just waits for it all to fall in place.

You were currently outside in the driveway of your house. You drove back there in your car with Lisa and Scott behind you. When you arrived, you hopped in her car to discuss how this was going to go.

Looking at the property, you admit missed your place, but you allowed your infantilism to get in the way.

"Okay he's in there, but he doesn't know you're coming back." Scott speaks lowly from the back seat.

"Wait you didn't tell him?" You snap around mystified. Why did they not tell him?

"Because we wanted it to be a surprise. Well I wanted it to be a surprise." He corrects himself when Lisa throws him a look through the rear view mirror.

"Well um okay. Then this just has to play out itself. Hopefully he's happy to see me..?" You were unsure yourself. The little intimate moment you had before he left couldn't dictate how he'd feel now.

"I'm positive he is, but you won't know unless you get up in there. Go ahead! We'll get your stuff," Lisa encourages. You think she's more excited than anyone. You thank her with a kiss on the cheek and high five Scott then head out of the car. You walk up the driveway to the front door. You didn't get the key out your bag so you rang the doorbell.

A few moments, the door is jerked open. You automatically know he didn't even look through the peephole before he opened the door. He needs to stop doing that.

You appear in his vision and he pauses.

"Y/N? Baby?" Incredulity is all in his voice.

"Yes, that is my name." You giggle. "Can I come in?"

"Uh of course! You live here, ya know." He steps back so you can walk inside. Walking through the threshold, you look around the house as if it was foreign to you. For whatever reason, you expected some dramatic changes. One thing that didn't change is his shoes in the middle of the floor. His bad habit.

"Chris what did I say about your shoes in the walkway?" You scold him and move them to the corner with his others. You can't count how many times you've almost fell face first because of his shoes in the way and truthfully, you not watching where you're going.

"Sorry I forget a lot" he says sheepishly with a tiny smile on his face stopping behind you. This makes your corners turn up as well.

You stand facing him and him facing you. Neither of you say anything. You can't tell if it is because you don't know what to say or that you just really missed each other's faces. Before you do speak, Lisa and Scott are inside with your things.

"Oh guys just put that stuff on the couch. Thank you again!" You point to the sofa, absentmindedly moving closer to Chris.

"We need to talk." Turning back to him, you nod. You remember why you're here in the first place. You needed to put an end to this.

"Right. Patio?" You always go out there to have conversations or just to chill with each other. He nods his head and turns to his family.

"We're gonna go outside and talk for a bit. Okay?"

"Oh yes take all the time you need," Lisa exclaims, shooing you both off. Scott is grinning himself. You just smile and walk to the back door onto the patio. Chris follows quickly behind.

Once you both get outside, you sit down. You wouldn't say it was awkward, but there was definitely some tension. You decide to break it.

"I'm really sorry, Chris."

"Baby I'm so sorry."

Guess he wanted to as well. You were about to talk, but he spoke up first.

"I want to apologize first. I was completely wrong here. I was being an asshole and I deserved everything you said to me. And everything Scott said to me as well." He rolls his eyes at that part. You could only imagine the dragging Scott was giving him. "I allowed Megan to disrespect you and that was a dick move. No one should allow their partner to be treated like that. You're were going to my wife and I stooped that low. I'm truly sorry." He searches in your eyes for something to let him know that you forgave him, knew that he was really sorry at least.

You look away about to let the flood come like Noah and the Arc. You've been waiting to hear that for a while and you knew he meant every word. But now it was your turn. Clearing your throat and wiping your eyes, you speak up.

"This isn't completely your fault, baby." You take his hands in yours. "I am also guilty as well. I acted so immature and didn't even truly try to resolve this because I wanted to victimize myself the whole time. Although you were acting like a huge dick, I still played a part. I am so sorry for not planning on telling you about the baby. That was unfair of me. I know that you love me and that I am important to you, so if you still want me to sign the prenup, I'll do it."

Hearing the words come from your mouth surprised you both. He didn't think you'd ever give in and you sure as hell were making sure you wouldn't. But here you are agreeing to it because you love him that much and wanted to make him happy. Your relationship would work so it would never come to be used. You had strong faith in that.

"That's another thing." He shakes his head and you're now confused. "I don't want you to sign a prenup. We're not doing that. I already plan on talking to Megan about it. And I'm going to address her on knowing her place working for me. Since you know that I love you, so fucking much, I don't need to worry about money. Nor a divorce. Like Ma said, we were made for each other and I'll be damned if I let you get away from me."

"So no prenup?" You needed to hear it again.

"No prenup, love." He grins at you, squeezing your hands. You pull from his grip and jump up busting out random dance moves. His mouth is ajar.

"No prenup! Ain't signing no prenup! Lalalalalaaaaa! No prenup!" After your little dance number, you sit back down with no shame. You needed that.

"I'm glad that you finally came to your senses, Christopher. Your mother taught you well" you say in a pompous manner. He just can't help but laugh. You truly were something else.

"We have a little one coming soon and we have to be out best selves for them. Pinky promise each other that we never ever argue and not fix it in a matter of 25 minutes ever again?" He holds out his pinky finger waiting for yours.

"I promise." You wrap yours around his and grin. "So we're good?"

"Well there is one more thing." He stands up and reaches in his pocket. He pulls out your engagement ring and gets on one knee. Just when you had no tears left to cry.

"Y/N, baby, will you be my fianceé again?" You laugh breathlessly and nod your head.

"Yes, you meatball!" He slips the ring back on your finger and you jump in his arms. Almost knocking him over, he grabs your face and kisses you. You wasted zero time kissing him back because you needed it. It had been so long.

Finally pulling away and balancing your breaths like you just ran a 5k, you both make eye contact and burst out into laughter.

"Come on. Let's go tell them." He grabs your hands and you rush inside the house. Heading into the living room you see them both watching with anticipation.

"So?" Scott speaks and they both stand up.

"Guess who's getting married ?!"

HELP-😌 im so proud of myself. i decided to end this with a nice fluff. it was well deserved. i read you guy's comments and it influenced how i wrote it. some of you mentioned immaturity in y/n and that was really valid. and the point about the prenup making sense.

thank you so much for reading. i am honestly so grateful that you guys liked it. i didn't expect it to blow up like it did. im crying now so bye ✌🏽🤧❤

tags:

@mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessycatth @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @dauntless2022 @allboutdatmarvel @ineedpineapple @illyrianprincess @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @marianas-studyblr @obliviatevamps @thevelvetseries @coffeebooksandfandom @shamelessfangirl-3 @quietmyfearswith @kissme-hs @lvgllre @arabescapr @careless-intuition @lady-x-red @donutloverxo @princess-evans-addict

#cevans #chris evans #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #captain america #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

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tryingmybestpls · 4 years ago

Text

Liability

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, platonic!Sam Wilson x Reader, platonic!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The reader deals with the repercussions of Steve’s actions and death of the three people closest to her.

Rating: R

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of death, feeling alone, depression, you know the vibes

Bucky and Sam had been put in charge of making sure Y/N Stark was okay. Steve had made them promise on his deathbed that they would look after her. Of course they had agreed, not wanting to argue with a dying man. Sam and Y/N were best friends and well, Bucky had nothing else to do and he wasn't going to disobey his best friend's wishes.

Things were okay for the first month after Steve died. Well, as okay as it could be all things considered.

Bucky and Sam moved into the townhouse that Y/N had shared with Steve to make sure she was okay. It was unspoken agreement between the three of them: they were going to move in since they didn't have any other place to go and Y/N had more than enough room. She had just lost her brother, her best friend, and the man she loves so they expected her to be barely holding on, to be extremely upset-but she seemed okay. Sure there was moments were she would suddenly start crying or days were she wouldn't come out of the room she had shared with Steve, but both men had expected this. Y/N was grieving after all.

Then she told them that she was going to stay upstate with her sister-in-law and niece. Y/N missed them and wanted to make sure they were doing okay. Sam and Bucky thought nothing of this-in fact, they were happy that she wanted to see them. Her face seemed to light up when talked about her upcoming trip and both men thought that being away from the city and with her family would greatly benefit her.

Y/N had given them both a hug the day she left, telling them that she would give them a call when she had arrived at Pepper's. Nothing had seemed amiss as they had helped her fill her trunk with bags.Sam had offer to drive her, but she had insisted that she can drive upstate by herself. Y/N had looked so happy, truly happy when she climbed into the car. She had given them a huge smile as she waved, pulling away from the curb. Both men had felt so relieved, thinking that this was the best thing for her. For the first time after Steve has died, they felt like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

Y/N called later in the day when she had arrived at Pepper's. She painted a vivid picture of how excited Pepper and Morgan were to see her, how good it felt to be around her family. Y/N had even said that her and Pepper talked about Tony, which Y/N had said made her feel a lot better, made her feel not so alone. Bucky and Sam were happy and content with her situation, making her promise she'd call again.

For the first couple of weeks, she did call. Y/N always had something to tell them too. Sometimes it was her and Morgan had spent the whole day swimming in the lake or her and Pepper attempted to make some vegan sourdough bread. Y/N always sounded happy over the phone, which made Bucky and Sam think that things were looking up, that she was getting better.

And then the calls stopped.

The calls stopping wasn't an immediate cause for concern. Bucky didn't believe that Y/N, -as a grown woman-needed to check in with them every single day or every single week. Sam wasn't as so optimistic. He knew Y/N and he knew that she kept her promises. Even if she had gotten busy or was doing really good, she would have at least sent them a text. It wasn't like her to go completely dark on them. But he also know it wasn't his place to force Y/N to check in. After all, she was an adult.

And then Rhodey had called.

Sam and Rhodey didn't call each other a lot so when his name popped up on Sam's phone, the Falcon knew that this situation was serious. Sam wished for the best, hoped that Rhodey was just calling about a mission or something have to do with the government.

He wasn't so lucky.

"Hey is everything okay with Y/N? She hasn't been answering her phone." Rhodey questioned, immediately making Sam's stomach drop.

"She's upstate with Pepper. She left a month ago. I thought you knew that." Sam replied, which quickly got Bucky's attention. Bucky stood up a little straighter, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Sam, I'm upstate with Pepper and she hasn't seen Y/N since Steve's funeral." Rhodey quickly responded, following by a sigh and some muttered curse words. Sam felt sick to his stomach, bile rising up in his throat.

Rhodey explained that Y/N had been calling Pepper every day, but the calls stopped a few weeks ago. Rhodey had tried to tell her that Y/N was probably just busy, but Pepper knew something was wrong. So Rhodey had called, trying to ease Pepper's worries. Sam told him that Y/N had said she was going up to go see Pepper and Morgan. Her calls to him having stopped around the same time as her calls to Pepper did.

Y/N Stark had just vanished into thin air.

Sam knew they had to work backwards in order to find out some idea of where she was and that had led them to the closed door leading into Y/N's room. Neither of them had been on the other side of the door. It wasn't their place to go into her room, their room. Yet, seeing that no one knew where Y/N was, they didn't have much of choice.

Bucky and Sam didn't know what to expect when they walked through the white door, but they didn't expect everything to seem so...neat. Everything seemed perfect. The bed was made, clothes were neatly put away. One thing that did seem weird is that all of the pictures in the room were all laying picture side face down on the surfaces they were on. Pictures that were hanging on the walls were covered with a multitude of things-a t-shirt, a pillowcase, or a scarf. While it wasn't an immediate cause for concern, it did make both men feel incredibly uneasy. The pictures aside, everything looked normal and incredibly clean. Not a thing was out of place.

Other than her cell phone, resting on the dresser. The same phone that had been calling both Pepper and Sam.

There's one thing that remains completely consistent with the Starks and that's the fact they are both incredibly smart.

Y/N Stark had been on the run with Steve, Sam, Nat, and Wanda. She was good at hiding, amazing at it. Y/N knew that her phone could be tracked and that they would be able to see what location she was calling from. While Sam wanted to just give her the benefit of the doubt and just pretend she was hiding out on a resort somewhere, he knows better. The fact that she had created a system to talk to both Sam and Pepper using prerecorded responses hinted at something much darker-something that he tried not to think about.

After some digging and pulling some strings, Rhodey and Sam find security camera footage of Y/N buying four different bouquets. They're able to follow her car via the footage to three different cemeteries. Upon visiting each one, the three men find that she had left flowers for her parents, Tony, Natasha, and Steve. Using the time stamps on the videos, they learn that she spent almost an hour at each cemetery, with the last one being the cemetery where Steve was buried. After that, the trail went cold and they were back at square one.

Then her car was found by Rhodey, exactly halfway between the city and Pepper's home, hidden on an old stretch of road.

Every piece of luggage was perfectly in its place, exactly where Bucky and Sam had helped her put it. Her shoes that she had been wearing had been left on the passenger seat, her wallet left behind in the glovebox with not a card out of place. There was no signs of a struggle. It just look like she pulled off the the side of the road for a minute. Y/N didn't want to be found and since she didn't want to be found, she had been smart. If someone had taken her, they would have been sloppy and messed up along the way. Not Y/N. She knew better.

The people that she had left behind were at a complete lost. They were all terrified, none of them wanting to think about what might have happened to Y/N or what she was capable of. She had lost three people incredibly close to her-her brother, her best friend, and the man she loves. People have lost a lot less and done a lot worse to others and themselves.

"Is there anywhere the two of them had? Any special place they'd go?" Sam asks Pepper once all of their leads dried up. The woman is clearly distraught, wringing her hands and her eyes rimmed with red. Rhodey hadn't wanted ask Pepper, but they were left with no other option. It doesn't take long for her to answer. She must've been thinking and thinking about where her sister-in-law has gone the couple of weeks they have been looking.

"There was this little farm house an hour outside of the city that Steve kept telling her that they were going to raise a family in. It-It has a big oak tree. You can't miss it." She answers, looking up at Sam and Bucky, "Please, please find her."

Pepper was right. They couldn't miss the house.

It was an aging colonial located in the middle of nowhere, with farmland and forest surrounding it. Its white siding was covered in moss in place, making it look more green than eggshell. The wrap around porch had been ripped off in places, leaving gaps. Some of the emerald green shutters have been torn off completely or were hanging by a single hinge. Most of the windows were broken and Sam was pretty sure it was leaning to the left a little. On the second story, an entire part of the roof has caved in. The best part of the entire place was giant oak tree. It was absolutely massive-probably the biggest that either man had seen. An old tire swing hung from one of the lower branches, the rope fraying but still somehow holding on.

Bucky and Sam glance at each other before getting out of the car and walking up the gravel driveway. It was eerily quiet and everything seemed to be at a standstill out here. The porch steps creaked and felt like it was going to collapse under their feet. The porch itself was warped, some planks missing completely. Sam sighed and carefully knocked on the door, really hoping for the best. There was no response, so he tried again. When there was no answer again, Sam reached for the door knob, finding it unlocked. The door creaked open loudly and both men were prepared to see the absolute worse waiting for them inside.

Yet when Sam and Bucky step inside the house, their eyes immediately land on her.

Y/N was nestled in a nook of one of the windows that still had glass in its panels, knees drawn up into her chest. Old, moldy, and decaying furniture from decades earlier still filled the home. Mementos of someone else's family and life left behind, as if the home's inhabitants had gotten up one day and never came back. Pictures still left in their frames, their photos weathered and abandoned, It reminded Bucky of home, of the life he was ripped away from and he understands why Steve had like the house so much. It was a house that was out of place and out of time, just like the Star Spangled Man With A Plan.

"I was hoping you guys just let me be." Y/N announces, not bothering to turn her head to look at the pair. She rests her head against the window, nails digging into her calves. She was wearing a dress that was once white and the men could see her skin was littered with cuts and bruises.

"We just wanted to make sure you were okay." Sam announces, taking a step forward. The warped wood floors creak under his weight, announcing his movement. Y/N chuckles humorlessly, her breath fogging up the dingy glass.

"He said that we were gonna buy this house. Told me that he was going to marry me and we were going to settle down. Told me that we were going to have a family together. Told me that he wanted a family. Told me that for five years." She tells them unprompted, eyes flicking down to look at her knees, "And he did want all of that. Just not with me. I was just a replacement for her."

Bucky and Sam don't know how to respond. They know that there's nothing they can do, no way that they can defend Steve for his actions. Neither of them were happy with the man abandoning his grieving girlfriend in order to live out a half-baked fantasy. Y/N knows this too, which is why she continues.

"I told him to go. I told him if that's what he wanted that he could go. Told him I was going to be okay. He had already made his mind up at that point. For some reason, I-I didn't think he'd actually leave." Her voice cracks, her cool facade crumbling. Her nails digging deep crescents into her legs, "Why-Why would he leave me? I just lost Nat and Tony and he left-"

Tears roll down her cheeks as she releases her grip on her legs, loosening her hold. Her lower lip quivers, unable to rein her emotions back in. The question wasn't for Bucky or Sam and honestly, Y/N doesn't even know who she is asking.

"My brother-My brother got his family and I-Steve kept telling me that we were going to get married and have a house full of kids." She forces the words out through the emotion, finally turning to look at Bucky and Sam, "Did you know that he and Peggy had three children together, Sam? I don't think he told you that when you got the shield."

Her eyes flick back down to look at her knees, tears rolling down her face. The house has gotten a lot colder, especially as the sky starts to darken outside. Y/N lifts her head, resting it against the frame of the window.

"I bought this house. It was going to be his Christmas present this year. A push in the right direction, if you will. Tony told me not to do it, said it was a bad idea. And he was right. He was always right." Y/N announces, a bitter laugh slipping out of her mouth, "And now I'm stuck with this fucking shithole."

For the past eight years, Y/N has been in a relationship with Steve. He was the man she loved, the man who she saw herself marrying and having children with. Y/N had turned on her brother and gone on the run with Steve, even though she knew that might cut off ties from the only family she has. When Thanos snapped his fingers and made half of the universe disappear, Y/N had clung to her boyfriend. Sure she'd go visit Tony, Pepper, and Morgan and would occasionally see Natasha, but she practically spent every waking moment with Steve. After the Snap, after she saw how happy her brother was, she knew she wanted a family. And Steve-Steve just kept telling her that they would have a family one day.

Y/N had been too distracted to see the cracks in their relationship. She was too in love with Steve to see that he hadn't loved her the same amount. Too in love to see that she was only a replacement for the woman he truly loved. When the cracks started to slip through, Y/N tried her best to fix them by making excuses. She had layered and layered excuses onto of each other in order to hold her relationship together. And while Y/N should've known better, she just didn't want to face the music and see everything for what it was.

That had worked until Natasha died, until her brother snapped his fingers. Until Steve told her that he was going to leave, not taking how she was feeling or what she was going through into consideration. Until he told her that he just didn't love her in that way. Until she had to keep how betrayed she felt to herself as she played the role of the dutiful, mournful girlfriend at his funeral. After that, everything came tumbling down around her and she was thrown back into reality.

"I told him.. told him that I wanted to end it all and he didn't care. Didn't even try to talk to me about it. Tony was the only family I've ever known and Nat was my best friend and he-he should've been there for me and he wasn't. He didn't care because he was already going to be gone. Another dead Stark didn't matter to him." Y/N turns her head and narrows her eyes at them, "That's why you two came here, isn't it? To make sure I didn't off myself?"

"We wanted to make sure you're safe-" Bucky starts, but Y/N quickly cuts him off with another bitter laugh. The super soldier glances at Sam, not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You wanted to? Don't bullshit me. You guys didn't move in with me or come to check on me because you two actually care about me. You two promised Steve that you'd watch over me, like I'm a fucking helpless child." Y/N snaps, glaring daggers at the two of them, "If he cared that much, he'd fucking be here, but he isn't. Steve made his choice and because of that, he doesn't get to have a say in my life anymore."

"Okay fine, we won't bullshit you. Yeah, he did ask us to take care of you, but you act like we weren't friends five years ago, Y/N. I have no idea what you're going through, but don't you dare act like I don't fucking care about you." Sam fires back, tears filling his eyes. More tears stream down her face as he continues, "Before the snap, you and me were thick as thieves. I care about you, Y/N, and you've had Pepper, Rhodey, and me all worried sick. Yeah, we were scared that you'd hurt yourself because we know you and I know how bad you got when we were in hiding, so we have every right to be worried about you."

It's incredibly quiet, quiet enough to hear a mouse sneeze. Bucky felt incredibly awkward standing there. He had only met Y/N a few times before he moved into her home and every time he had been around her, Steve was there. Obviously, he doesn't know Y/N as good as Sam does-hell, he barely knows anything about her-but he knows when someone is doing bad and Y/N is clearly doing bad.

Y/N leans her head forehead, pressing it against her knees for a moment. Her chest felt hollow, almost as if it was going to cave in on itself. She would love to pretend that she was doing completely okay, love to pretend that Sam and her family were wrong in their assumptions of why she had disappeared. Y/N would love to pretend like everything was okay, but she was tired. She was incredibly tired, utterly exhausted. Y/N was done trying to pretend like nothing was wrong, done hiding everything in order to keep up appearances for the people around her. She let a shakily breath slip out of her mouth as she lifts up her head, resting her chin on her knees. As if he could feel the energy in the room shift, Sam turns to look at Bucky, silently asking if he could leave. The super soldier nods and without a word, he walks out the front door, shutting it behind him. Sam knows Y/N and he knows for times like this, she doesn't need an audience. Its already extremely hard for her to share what she is feeling and having Bucky there isn't exactly helping.

"I can't do this anymore, Sam. I can't." Y/N admits quietly once the door is shut, tears steaming down her cheeks. "I tried to stick it out for Pepper and Morgan, but I can't. I-I was going to do it. I had a goodbye message recorded and everything."

Her confession sucks all of the air out of the room, the only noises being her sniffling and the sounds a house as old as this one makes. Sam can feel his heart breaking in his chest makes his way over to her, crossing the room in seconds. He moves to sit on the edge of the nook she's sitting on. Up close, Sam can see how red her eyes are, how dark her under eyes are. He knows she most likely hasn't gotten any actual rest in few days-most likely since she's been gone. Her legs and arms are all cut up and bruised, her white dress covered in dirt and occasionally some sprinkles of deep burgundy. Her cheeks seemed a little less full and Sam wonders when was the last time she ate was.

"And you wanted to do it here?" Sam asks, his voice soft. Y/N just nods in response, unable to look at him. The man clasps his hands together as he continues, treading the waters as carefully as possible, "I-I'm not going to pretend to understand what you're going through okay? I'm not going to bullshit you. All I know is that you're hurting and you have every right to be."

"It just hurts so much, Sam. Everything hurts and I-I don't want to hurt anymore." Y/N manages to get out, not bothering to wipe the tears that keep rolling down her cheeks, "I'm tired. I'm so God damn tired and I want to be with them."

"Do you think that's what Tony wants? Do you think he wants you to join him? Do you think that's what Nat wants you to do?" Sam questions delicately, to which Y/N shakes her 'no' in response, "I know it hurts, but ending it? They don't want that for you. We don't want that for you. You still have so much life to live, kid. And I know it's horrible right now. You're going through pain that is way too much for one person to carry, but you don't have to go through this alone. Sure I'm not Nat or your brother and I'm sure as hell not Steve-but I am here and I want to make sure you're okay."

Y/N raises her head to look at her friend and Sam can see the hurt written all over her face. Her pain is visible and he feels like a shitty friend for not noticing it beforehand. Sam carefully reaches out and rests his hand on top of hers, a tear slipping out of his eyes.

"Just come back with us, okay? It's not going to be easy and it's going to suck, but I can't bury another friend, Y/N." Sam's voice cracks, his throat constricting with emotion. It takes her moment-and for that moment Sam is absolutely petrified, wondering if he said all the wrong things, wondering if he made it all worse-but then she nods the world's tiniest nod before breaking out into full on sobs. It was like all of the pain and hurt had finally broken through and she was finally reacting to it all. Sam wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her against his chest as she cried and cried over the family she lost.

#steve rogers x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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whatifxwereyou · 4 years ago

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The Oncoming Storm Part 11: Gamble and Gossip

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Some scene setting, and fun teasing. Who doesn't like to be teased about the two hot guys that are begging for their attention? And I mean, I sure do love writing these boys! Thanks for reading. I appreciate you guys so much. It's made this experience SO much fun. Will update again tomorrow... and also maybe Monday if all goes well ;D

Part 10 Part 12 Chapter Index

Liu Kang was seated amongst a handful of other monks, undoubtedly leading them in meditation. It was afternoon and Kung Lao had some time to think over what you had said the night before. He’d since made a few decisions on the matter. Before doing anything, he had to run it by his ‘brother’. Liu Kang had always been more level-headed than he was- more careful, more studious. Kung Lao knew that Liu Kang was going to hate his idea but it had to be said. He didn’t see another way out.

Leaning against the wall near the door, he tilted his hat and waited for the monks to finish their meditation. He’d never been big on meditating either. He’d done it, obviously, but his thoughts had always run amok throughout. Liu Kang spoke with the other monks and then waited for them to leave the room before stopping in front of Kung Lao, arms folded over his chest expectantly.

“All done?”

“You could have joined in. Less distracting.”

“I’ll pass.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Later.”

“What?”

“We’ll talk about that later. It’s not why I’m here.”

“Then…?” Liu Kang sighed expectantly, bowing his head as one of the monks peeked inside to thank him for the meditation. “What?”

“I want a fair chance.”

“What does that mean, Lao?” The sigh Liu Kang gave him was a familiar one and it made Kung Lao laugh under his breath.

“It means that we should order takeout. What do you think it means, Liu? For Y/N, obviously. You knew exactly what I meant. Why waste time and make me explain it?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

He knew that Liu Kang was going to hate this. Even talking about you had made him uncomfortable.

“Don’t be sorry.”

“You know that I wasn’t actually apologizing, Lao. Get to your point.”

“We’re going to make it interesting.”

“I thought we’d already talked about this.”

“Did you think we were actually done talking?”

“I had hoped.” Liu frowned. “She can do whatever she wants, Kung Lao. You and I don’t have any say in what she does. She’s an adult. I’m not going to fight with you over her. That’s ridiculous. We’re not schoolboys.”

“Who said anything about fighting?” Kung Lao chuckled and Liu couldn’t have looked less approving.

“This is feeling very childish.”

“Oh, come on. You like her. Right?” Liu Kang said nothing in response but then when Kung Lao gave him a knowing look, Liu nodded.

“Well, so do I.” Kung Lao shrugged. It was simple. They had a problem so he had come up with a creative solution. “To be fair? I saw her first…”

“…I’m coming back to that we’re-not-schoolboys thing and find I’m having to remind you that we’re not children.”

“Fine, fine. I’m just saying that there’s no reason we shouldn’t make this interesting. We’re both vying for her attention and whoever wins? Wins.”

“Why do I feel like I’m about to call you an asshole?”

“We bet on it.”

“I was right. You’re an asshole.” Liu Kang silenced him with a look and Kung Lao smiled. “I’m not betting on someone else’s choices, Kung Lao.”

“Hear me out, Liu!” Kung Lao followed his brother out of the room and down the hall. Liu Kang stopped and turned to face him expectantly. “It could be fun?”

“Ugh. Isn’t she going through enough right now without us and… you being the way you are?”

“I’m just saying, Liu. This is happening one way or another so why not have a harmless little game on the side?” Kung Lao joined him in his walk, amused by both his brother’s disgust and curiosity.

“And what would the stakes be in this hypothetical bet?”

“That’s more like it.” Kung Lao clapped his hands together and stretched them in front of him. “Chores? Errands? Something harmless. For like a month.”

“And the other backs off. Bows out. No hard feelings.” Liu Kang suggested and stopped his walk, tapping his thumb against his prayer beads in thought.

“Finally, you’re part of the fun.” Kung Lao laughed. “Chores too, though.”

“So, what exactly would the terms be? Also, I’m throwing it out there that I do not feel terribly good about this. It feels manipulative.”

“It’s not. You like her. I like her. Neither one of us is leading her on. No one’s lying.”

“And yet now there are stakes. We’re betting over the decisions of another human. It feels… morally gray at the least.”

“What? Are you worried that I’m going to steal your girl? Who was my girl to begin with, just as a reminder.”

“No.” Liu Kang was instantly defensive. “And she doesn’t belong to anyone. I need you to stop phrasing it that way.”

“You’re worried that she’s going to kiss me first and not know what to do.” Kung Lao teased. “Worried that you might lose all that extra ground you covered while I was gone.” Kung Lao enjoyed making Liu Kang uncomfortable and was happy to see him considering his game. He wanted a fair shot and it seemed the only way without arguing with his brother. Liu Kang averted his gaze and looked far past Kung Lao who followed his gaze and then scoffed in surprise. He’d already kissed you. Well, that certainly changed things. “Interesting. So, I’m working at a bigger disadvantage than I thought.”

“Disadvantage?” Liu rolled his eyes. “You grew up together. She holds you in deep reverence. She asks about you all the time. That’s not a disadvantage.”

“Don’t pretend that being made of fire isn’t working in your favor. Neither of our standings are fair so… that makes it kind of fair, right?”

Liu Kang rolled his eyes again. “What are the terms, Kung Lao?”

“Well, first we agree not to be angry with each other no matter what comes of it.”

“Annoyed is acceptable, right? Because I’m already annoyed.”

“Of course.” Kung Lao swatted him on the back. “Well, then the only terms are her choosing one of us. Like you said. It’s not really up to us.”

“So, I’m supposed to be fine wondering what the two of you are up to. Is that the real reason you’re doing this?”

“I said that being annoyed was fine, remember? Besides, it’ll make you work harder.” Kung Lao teased, though he didn’t love the mental image of Liu kissing you either. That ship had sailed apparently and he had ground to regain. “So when she chooses, then one of us wins.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. No strings attached. I’m not going to even brag.”

“I don’t believe that for a single second.”

“No, really. I’m just trying to cut the air between us over it. This way we can be honest. I know that she’s attached to you and while she’s attached to me, that’s in a different sense. Also, I want you to do my chores and errands for a month.”

“Well, aren’t you confident?”

“I’m the descendant of the Great Kung Lao. What makes you think that I won’t?”

“Fine. We can have this little bet. You are, however, an asshole to think of this. When she inevitably gets angry about it? I’m deferring to you.”

“Defer away. I’m extremely charming.” Kung Lao clasped his shoulder and then gestured down the hall. “Spar? It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

***

You slept into the next afternoon, something that you had sorely needed. When you woke up, you were alone and grateful for it. You adored Liu Kang and Kung Lao but the air had become thick with them around. It felt nice not to have to have your guard up for a few minutes. For now, you could lay in bed, curled up in your blanket like a burrito, and procrastinate on getting on with your day.

Your side was sore and you were exhausted despite the extra sleep. That was to be expected considering the blood loss and trauma of the night before. After a few minutes spent rolling around in bed, you got up, got cleaned up, and dressed. Then you made your way down to the infirmary, stopping only once to help a monk who had their hands full. You figured it was better to go make sure that your side was doing okay rather than have to break the promise you’d made to Chen the night before.

You walked into the infirmary and speak of the devil, there was Chen. You smiled and waved in greeting to you. You returned the wave shyly and stepped further inside. Chen offered you a hug, then urged you to take a seat on the bench you’d sat upon more times than you could count now. Chen took the seat next to you.

“I was hoping that you’d check in with us today before getting yourself into more trouble.” Chen looked to you disapprovingly and you pouted. “You know, it was pretty peaceful before you arrived.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“Okay, so it’s not much less chaotic, but still. It’s been much bloodier the last few weeks with you around. Come on, shirt up, let me see.” Chen was a few years older than you, you suspected. You hadn’t asked but the way Chen spoke led you to believe that there was a small age gap. You had worn the tank top from the night before. It was so much easier to maneuver around than the gi or the hanfu. You put it in the back of your mind to ask Lao or Liu if you could leave the temple at some point to buy some other clothing. You liked the hanfu and the gi but they were antiquated and inconvenient at times.

You tugged up your shirt and Chen pulled the gauze away from the wound. The skin around it was tender but you didn’t flinch. Chen wasn’t gentle with you anymore either. In fact, she’d told you several times that the best way for you to heal would be for you to be treated normally. You’d even heard Chen scold Liu Kang once for pampering you and had a good laugh about it.

Chen tended to the wound. You didn’t look at it. It was very sore even though it had been cauterized. It made your whole torso ache, even sitting upright was a chore. Still, at least you weren’t bleeding out anymore. You could recover from the blood loss at least. Chen rattled on about her day while she worked, talking about the walk she’d taken that morning and a delivery of medicine that had come with one of the other monks returning from a long journey.

You struggled to focus. It wasn’t that Chen was boring, just that you were exhausted and the pulling and tugging of the wound didn’t help.

“So, yesterday was interesting.” Chen shoved your shoulder when it was clear you were no longer paying attention to her stories. You pouted again.

“That’s one word for it. Miserable? That’s a pretty good word for it too.”

“Oh, I suppose that was interesting too but I meant with Kung Lao.”

You rolled your eyes so hard that Chen laughed and smacked the back of your head. “Ow! He felt guilty, okay? Your brain is constantly in the gutter.”

“I thought you were sweet on Liu Kang.”

“Could you lower your voice if you’re going to talk like that? Jeez.” You hushed her and Chen laughed.

“We all thought you were sweet on Liu Kang.” Chen lowered her voice.

“I didn’t come here to talk about this. I came here to keep my no-bleeding-in-the-temple promise. So please, please let all of that go and do the thing where you tell me to be careful but go about my day.”

“Okay, okay.” Chen continued to clean the wound and was quiet only for a second. “…but you know? That was interesting. Kung Lao doesn’t come down here often. Avoids us like the plague. Yet, he stayed here nearly all night long for you.”

“You can’t agree to let it go and then keep yammering on about it. That’s lying. You’re a lying monk. That’s probably bad. Morally gray at the very least.”

“You’re being awfully evasive.”

“Not evasive I just don’t really want to talk about it.” You laughed. You had dwelled about these things enough on your own. It was nice, at least, to know that the tension wasn’t in your head. The others had noticed it too, so you weren’t going crazy. Was that good or bad? You had no idea.

“Like hell!”

“Again? Probably bad for a monk.” You laughed nervously as others stopped to look at you with Chen’s outburst. Chen waved the other monks off and they returned to their tasks.

“This is the juiciest gossip we’ve had in so long, Y/N.”

“I thought that you were supposed to be humble and all that.”

“We’re not perfect. That’s part of the deal.”

“I’m just saying that it feels like someone somewhere is probably judging you for this.”

“We’re still allowed to experience fun and excitement, Y/N. And this is very fun. And exciting.”

“Making me uncomfortable? That’s what’s fun and exciting?”

“Yes, Y/N. So, Kung Lao. What’s going on with that?”

“It’s complicated.”

“What about it is so complicated?”

“I knew him when we were kids. Old friends, I guess? Like I said, it’s complicated.” It was so much more complicated than you let on.

“Oh, come on.” Chen laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. It really was ridiculous. The whole situation was absurd. You were glad for Chen then, who brought you back down to earth. You got so into your head about everything the past few days that hearing someone else’s voice on the matter was a reprieve, even if it was terribly embarrassing. “Please tell me that you two went and had some fun.”

“Chen!” Your face turned red.

“You’ve had nothing but pain since you got here, well except for that time I caught you and Liu Kang snuggling. Sue me for hoping you got to have a bit of the opposite.” Chen considered it and then shrugged. “Well, or a lot of the opposite. With at least one of them.”

“You can’t possibly be a monk. Someone has lied to me.”

“Your face is so red. I’ve never seen it that red.”

“You’re killing me.”

“It’s delightful.”

“My face can’t handle much more of this, I swear. Are we done here? Can I go throw my head in cold water and think pure thoughts?” You dared to peek at the wound and winced at the sight of it. It was ugly but still better than it looked the night before. Chen fanned the wound with the gauze in her hand.

“You should come meet us later so that we can catch up.”

“You mean gossip. You want me to meet you to gossip.”

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean.” Chen covered the wound with the gauze and you pulled your shirt back down over it.

“We’ll see. The day’s already half over and I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing today. If I have free time, I’ll consider coming to bother you.” You weren’t sure you’d get the chance but if it ended the torturous teasing for the time being then you would at least consider it. Besides, even with the teasing, Chen was good company.

“I could find us some wine.”

“You are the worst monk,” you whispered.

“I expect a juicy story in return.”

“I don’t have any juicy stories.” You lied. You lied right through your teeth.

“Before you run off, please just give me a few details of…”

“Y/N?” Kung Lao’s voice interrupted and Chen sat upright and pretended to be working on cleaning up the mess she’d made taking care of your wound. Your face was still red and you shot daggers at Chen with your eyes but Chen was smiling brightly and avoiding your eyes. Chen stood up and allowed Kung Lao to take the spot where she’d been seated. You took calming breaths to try and will the redness away from your face.

“What are you doing here?” You cleared your throat and Kung Lao placed his hand to your cheek. His hand was cold in comparison but took up the entire side of your face.

“Are you having a reaction? Your face is on fire.”

“Just overheated. It’s warm out today.” You urged his hand away from your cheek but his fingertips still lingered. This was the worst timing. It was as though he’d planned with Chen to embarrass you. He didn’t seem to think you were embarrassed though, instead, he was concerned.

“How are you feeling? Wound still closed up?” Kung Lao reached to tug up your shirt and you gasped in surprise and swatted his hand away. He looked wounded as he pulled his hand back then grinned playfully.

“Don’t be so grabby. It’s fine. I just wanted to check in on it before going about my day.”

“Probably hurts something fierce still.”

“Yeah, it’s weighing on me.” You breathed a sigh of relief as you managed to relieve the burning in your face.

“Can I see it?”

“Why?”

“I’m curious.”

“No.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “Not a good enough reason.”

“Wow, okay.” He patted your leg with a laugh and rested his hand there. You did your best not to stare at it and also tried to ignore Chen spying on you. “If you’re done here then why don’t we get up and practice a bit?”

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea, Kung Lao.” You stared at his hand on your leg.

“You won’t get any better if you don’t keep it up. Nothing too crazy. Won’t even use my hat.” He tapped the brim and then brushed his fingers along the side of it.

“I’m nervous.” You hated that you’d admitted it and regretted saying it immediately. Kung Lao urged his hand from your leg, tilted his posture toward you, and brushed his fingertips over your jaw and beneath your chin. You fought off another shiver and he scooted closer to you, knees just barely pressed against yours.

“I promise to protect you. Don’t worry so much.”

“I uh…” Your voice, once again, felt small, something that was becoming much more common this close to him. He smirked as if realizing you were uncomfortable. “I’m more nervous for you than me. I attacked Liu without knowing.”

“I can handle myself, Y/N.”

“Oh?”

“I’m happy to prove it to you,” he whispered in your ear. You felt your heart stop dead in its tracks. His breath was hot on your ear then suddenly he stood up and left you seated alone. “Come on. Let’s go.” He walked out of the infirmary and you watched him go, stupefied. Chen grabbed your arm and urged you to your feet and mouthed for you to go.

“This is such a mess. A complete and total mess.” You followed after Kung Lao and Chen made a joking kissy face as you walked out of the infirmary.

#mortal kombat movie #mortal kombat 2021 #liu kang x reader #kung lao x reader #liu kang #kung lao #ludi lin #max huang #liu kang/reader #kung lao/reader #liu kang x you #kung lao x you #angst #romance #teasing #gossip #fanfiction #fanfic #love triangle

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akaashisupremacy · 3 years ago

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How to Find Love

Summary: Iwaizumi is on a quest to find love with an old friend. What can he do to get there?

Iwaizumi x fem!reader/Oc || Read it on A03

Genre : romance, friends to lovers

Hajime Iwaizumi ran into the cafe, eyes wide and panicky. “I’m already twenty minutes late for the date.”

As he composed himself before he entered the place, he took a deep breath. He was determined to enjoy this date because it might be their last. Hiromi had never taken lateness kindly.

“Gomen, the meeting ran longer than expected,“ he said, nodding his head into a bow, too embarrassed to meet her eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

She looked up from her books with a weary smile. Beside her was a pile of four or five books, some of which were beginning to yellow, meticulously tabbed with colorful post-its.

“You still made it,” she said, closing her book “I usually walk out if my date was a full hour late.”

It was a Thursday. She had an afternoon at the library while he had an early off (if it wasn’t for his work meeting). Neither of them worked traditional 9 to5 jobs. He began to wonder if seeing each other would be easier if they did. Iwa was leaving on a Friday for Osaka for the rest of the weekend. He was a physical trainer for a professional volleyball team, which meant that he travelled with them during their season.

They called for a menu and began to order what would be their dinner.

“How’s work?” he asked, surveying her through the menu.

“It’s a lot of reading,” she gestured towards her stack of books, “But we’re at the beginning of a new research-heavy campaign so it’s normal. How about you?"

“Mmm…it’s still the start of the season so most of the team is quite healthy. Some of them are a little excited so we’re just trying to reign them in to keep them from straining themselves.” he said, thumbing through the pages.

He had settled for a hamburg curry rice while she had gone for a bowl of tuna pasta. She looked distracted.

“What’s up?” he asked, leaning into the table now that the niceties were done with.

“I like my job. I like my team. But why do I feel like I’m just grinding day in and day out." she sighed, resting her chin on her books, “There’s got to be more in adult life than this."

“You’ve got to find the reason out on your own because your employer won’t do it for you. Not that I’m qualified to give advice or anything.” he said, looking up from his drink.

“I know,” she murmured, her head rested between her folded arms “It’s just so difficult to find the energy for it sometimes.”

Iwaizumi nodded. He knew what she meant. No one job could fulfill all his desires for accomplishment. He liked his job, but it wasn’t a perfect job. He wished that he didn’t need to spend so many weekends away from home.

Man, this date was sobering.

“You sound burnt out. Maybe take it slower at work?” he quirked his head to match the angle of hers.

“What is it that you want to do that you’re not doing for work?” he asked. Despite less than a year in the workforce, she already looked so glum.

She pulled herself up and swept her books aside, “I don’t know to be honest. Within the next two years, I just want to be published in other big publications. It doesn’t have to be necessarily on food, more like the stuff I write for fun. The stuff I’m willing to freelance while I have a day job, y’know?”

“Like what?”

Their order had arrived. She stabbed her fork into her pasta and gently twirled it around.

“The New York Times has a column called Modern Love where you write a long essay about some type of love. It doesn’t have to be romantic. It can be platonic, familial, or even failed love as long as it is set in modern day. I’ve been meaning to write about my failed relationships.” she said thoughtfully.

Iwa choked on his first spoonful.

“Well, if this doesn’t work out, I can at least write about it. Get three hundred dollars and buy you dinner to thank you for the experience.” she laughed drily.

“Are you always this pessimistic on your first dates?” he coughed, taking a sip of water “Either ways, I’m glad to be of help.”

She perked up a bit and grinned. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. A wave of warmth washed over him.

“Send me a copy when you get published.” he added, “I want to see what you write about me.”

“I’m definitely going to writet that you were late on the first date.” she said without skipping a beat. She was grateful that they had chosen this cafe. There were not too many people even if it was dinner time, yet the ambient noise that filled the air kept their pauses from being too silent.

Iwa stopped eating and squinted his eyes at her, “You are not gonna let me live this down, huh?" She winked at him with a glint in her eye. He smiled in response.

He couldn’t care less about what the New York Times was but she was evidently fascinated by it. He wasn’t going to own up to uncultured swine he was on a first date. He had already been late.

“Anyways tell me more about this Modern Love.” he settled back into his dinner.

She pulled out her phone and began typing, “The Modern Love column came out with questions to help get to know someone. This could be a fun date activity.”

“Sure, you want to give it a go?”

She shoved the phone in his face and scrolled through the questions. “There are three sets of questions. Each set more intimate than the last. You can choose from the first set.”

Iwa lightly held the phone, his fingertips grazing the back of her hand. He chose the first question that caught his eye.

“Number 4. What would constitute a ‘perfect’ day for you?” he read out loud. Hiromi took her phone back and read the question to herself.

“What’s your answer?” she asked.

“I just got back, I hadn’t figured out what a perfect day would be like here.” he shrugged sincerely.

She snorted loudly, “What a cop out answer!”

Iwa looked up and thought for a bit, “A day spent walking around in the city…maybe a day that starts with a morning jog and a hot unrushed breakfast after. Catching up with friends sounds good too.”

Hiromi nodded. She was fully absorbed as he talked. It was like she was going through the scenes of his day in his mind as he described them.

“What about you?” he asked, snapping out of her out of her reverie.

“A day at the market,” she said quietly. ”Any market day is a good day really.”

“To be honest, it doesn’t depend on the activities so much at times. The people you’re with is definitely important. A day at the market can still be terrible with the wrong company.” she added.

“I wasn’t subpar last weekend, was I?” he asked.

“No...you weren’t.” she replied a little more shyly than usual.

They moved onto the next question.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” she read out loud, “Doesn’t have to be romantic again.”

Iwaizumi inhaled sharply. That was such a loaded question.

“If you’ll use this for an article and it gets published, you better buy me dinner someplace nice.” he tutted.

“Then make this one good.” she smirked.

Iwaizumi stopped eating for a few minutes to think through the question. Before he answered, he closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.

“It defined my entire career in volleyball. My best friend and I watched a game and we kind of chose to go into the same school team after that because we were both so obsessed with the sport. Our connection was almost telepathic. We barely used signals when it was just the two of us. We basically ran off instinct.” said he softly, his eyes reminiscing a different time.

“Although we went our separate ways after high school, I spent so much time in volleyball that it defined a huge part of who I was too. I mean, if I didn’t play volleyball, I would probably be in another sport, but I’d still think I’d be different, y’know?”

You could tell he was avoiding the word “love.” Iwa was not one to be vulnerable.

“In college when I was in my first serious relationship, it was the type of love that gave me confidence and assurance. But I guess it wasn’t enough…for me to say it deeply impacted my later choices on career and other decisions, unlike volleyball.”

“I can’t help but feel that any defining…relationship I have romantically will be weighed against with my time with volleyball…my first real love…" he tried to laugh it off, but you felt the weight off his words, “And I’ve been lucky enough to have enough love in my life that I don’t need to constantly be in a relationship to feel complete.”

A moment of silence fell in between the two.

“That’s a lot to heap on a relationship.” she whispered in contemplation.

Iwa awkwardly scrambled for damage control, “…no pressure.” was all he managed to say.

“So why try to date? When it’s so tough to find someone who can match up with volleyball?” she asked.

“Companionship?” he shrugged, “It’s still nice to date around.”

“And you’re…nice. I’ve been wanting to date you since we were in college. I’ve liked you for a long time…” his entire face flushed pink.

Her eyes fluttered wide open. Since college? Is he serious?

“Our friends were right,” she said in a hush, “You did have a thing for me. I thought they were just teasing us.”

“You had a boyfriend back then and when you broke up with him, I was seeing someone else.” he exhaled, looking her earnestly in the eye, “Wasn’t it obvious to you?”

Iwaizumi couldn’t tell if Hiromi just didn’t want to speak or was too busy contemplating. She was too stunned to speak.

“It felt like fate seeing you on the plane.”

A million things were going through her mind, she slowly opened her mouth, “Now that we’ve been on two half dates, what’s it like? Is this what you’d thought it would be?”

“College is very different from now, but the short answer is yes.” he nodded, rolling his shoulders back. “Everything just clicks. I’m so comfortable with you. It’s so easy for us to talk. I like you just as much as I did in college…I just really like you. Time hasn’t changed that at all.”

Hiromi looked overwhelmed. She was unable to look him in the eye. She was barely getting to know him romantically and he had long been decided about his feelings for her.

“Do you wanna ask if they sell alcohol here? You look like you need a drink.” he joked. Hiromi didn’t look like she heard him.

"This is so intense for a first date.” she shook her head in what seemed like regret.

“We can stop,” he gently interjected, “We can talk about something else.”

She finally looked up to him and whispered, “Hajime, you’ve just dumped a lot of pressure on me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to do that,” he smiled apologetically, “Anyways, I’m aware that we’re both at different…stages of attraction. Besides, I think this would be way more awkward if we both were pining.”

“Wouldn’t that be sweeter?” she asked.

“Way too sappy for me.” he waved with his hand. Hiromi let out a small chuckle. Iwa secretly sighed in relief.

——————————————————————————— After dinner, they headed to the arcade to blow off some steam. Iwaizumi offered to carry some of her books to which he somewhat regretted. Her books were like rocks. How the hell was she lugging them on her own in the city?

“I could carry them on my own if it’s too heavy.” she offered.

Iwaizumi looked at her incredulously. She was at least half a foot shorter and much smaller in build. His biceps weren’t going to buck in front of her.

They wandered around the arcade for a bit, unsure what to do first. Iwa silently prayed they didn’t have to do any dancing. Just when they were about to decide on the claw machine, Hiromi pointed towards a small karaoke booth at the corner of her eye.

“Let’s go in there.” she tugged at his jacket.

Iwaizumi flipped through the songs. None of them seemed to be in Japanese. All of them were in English.

“Did you pick up a default english karaoke song?” she asked, browsing through the catalogue. The room was clearly designed for kids. It was so small their knees touched and Iwa could barely sit up without hitting his head on the ceiling.

“Nah,” he shook his head, “I don’t really sing…in English. Any suggestions?”

Hiromi typed in the number of a song.

“I’m about to introduce you to your first usable English karaoke song.” she grinned at him mischievously. Iwa looked at her suspiciously.

The opening notes started to play—some acoustic guitar and a trumpet. The song sounded…Mexican? For the longest time there were no lyrics on the screen. Hiromi swayed to beat as her eyes were glued to the screen. When the song finally began to hit what sounded like the chorus, the music paused for a second.

“TEQUILA!” she yelled into the mic.

Iwaizumi was so startled he jumped up and hit his head on the ceiling. Hiromi was giggling uncontrollably.

“That’s it?!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah,” she laughed, pressing the mic towards him, “You try on the next chorus.”

When the trumpets began playing, Iwa readied himself. The song hits its familiar pause soon enough and he pulls the mic closer to his lips.

“Tequila?” he said tentatively.

“With more conviction, Hajime!” she urged, taking back the mic. On the third chorus, she moved closer to him so they could share the mic.

The music hits its third pause, they looked at each other and yelled, “TEQUILA!”

They both grinned and laughed, almost as if the act of singing about alcohol was like a drink in itself. He could feel her shins pressed against him as she continued to sway for the music. A glint in her eye flickered as she nudged him to dance along with her.

Iwaizumi wasn’t going to refuse. Especially not on their first date. He swayed what he could on the tiny box while the song lasted.

————————————————————————— At the end of the night, they both sat in the train waiting to get off on their respective stops. The carriage shuttled back and forth, pushing and pulling their bodies back and forth into each other.

“Hajime,” she tapped him on his shoulder, “We didn’t finish the last set. Let’s do a quick one before I get off.”

He nodded, “Pick one we can answer with just one word.”

Hiromi swiftly browsed the list, before looking up.

“Finish the sentence, ‘Right now, we are both feeling…’"

Their faces were both so close they could feel the heat of each other’s breath. The back of their hands were touching, but neither dared to reach out or pull away.

“Hopeful.” whispered Hiromi, an evident earnestness in her voice. She was fighting off her shyness just long enough to look him in the eye when she talked.

Iwa smiled, “Smitten.”

Before she could react, the train jolted as it shuffled towards her station.The train stopped at Hiromi’s station and she got up from her seat, taking the books from Iwa’s arms.

He followed her to the exit and watched her as she got off. She gave a small wave from the platform while she watched the doors closed.

Iwa was tempted to press his hands onto the window, unwilling to end their time for the evening. His last sight of her was her smile when the train plunged itself into the night.

“Did he start out his day at the market with a morning jog?” she asked herself, watching the train swiftly pull away.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath. The night had gone differently from how he thought the date would proceed. For one thing, he didn’t expect to confess so early into the relationship.

He took his phone and curiously googled the questions she mentioned.

It turns out the title of the New York Times article was not “Questions to Get to Know Your Date” as Hiromi had led him to believe. Instead, it was titled, “Thirty Six Questions That Lead to Love”.

“Huh,” he said to himself. He shut off the screen to his phone.

36 was too much. In his opinion 3 was enough.

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

This is part 3 of a series on Iwa living in Tokyo after he moves back from California. Comment or message to be added to the taglist.

Also, I’ve been feeling quite down lately, so say some nice things if you feel like it in the comments 😬✌️

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

Series taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan

#iwazumi fluff #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime 27 athletic trainer #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x oc #seijoh x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfic #hq x oc #haikyuu x oc #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi series #hq fluff #hq imagines #hq scenarios

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laufire · 3 years ago

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(CW for mentions of csa)

A lot of Commonly Accepted (Often Through Uncritical Repetition) Wisdom in fandom leaves me baffled, when not straight up ticked off, but one that's been on my mind lately, that never fails to bring a scrunched up expression to my face, is the idea that Bela Talbot's backstory was some last minute add-on to her character.

You might argue that the reveal was rushed since the writers caved in and killed her off against their original plan (or at the very least, earlier than). Or that using abuse is a trite way to raise sympathy for an antagonistic character. You could even say that some of the finer details might’ve not been set in stone until they sat down to write her exist, although that one is dubious. But I’m never really going to buy that Bela’s backstory hadn’t been already planned, likely in big part.

The reason why is Season Three Episode Six, “Red Sky At Morning”, Bela’s second episode, co-written by Eric Kripke himself. As all episodes with Bela were, may I add; which means he had a hand in crafting her story from the beginning, as creator, director, and writer.

There Dean, a character that has been shown as sharp and intuitive (although his success rate ain’t that great when it comes to Bela, admittedly xD), immediately pegs her as someone with Issues TM, asking “how did she get like this”. He even taunts her by referencing her father, showing off his talent to hit where it hurts by asking if he “didn’t give her enough hugs”, ‘cause he’s classy like that. This visibly affects Bela, changing her demeanor in their conversation, from more playful to defensive. Hell, I remember during my first watch in real time this moment, especially paired with the rest of the episode, was when I first thought it was possible she came from an abusive family.

Because, c’mon. This whole episode is about parricide. The monster of the week is a ghost who haunts those that “spilled their own family’s blood”. We get two other examples: a woman whose accidental car crash killed her cousin, and two brothers who killed their father for the inheritance. Clearly, the ghost doesn’t have a narrow criteria when it comes to means or culpability -which makes sense given his particular story: he was tried for treason and his brother, the captain of the ship, issued the sentence.

And just as we find out this information... Bela sees the ghost ship that foretells her death. This, paired with the insinuations about an unsavvory past and her discomfort at the mention of her father, aren’t a wealth of information, but they start to paint a picture. We now know for a fact that Bela caused the death of at least one relative (mom and dad); that she wouldn’t have needed to do it directly (she made a crossroads deal); and that she might’ve had a sympathetic motive (her father sexually abused her and her mother turned a blind eye).

That scene offers some more tidbits of information about her past that seem too in tune with 3x15 to be coincidental, and that absolutely break my heart: Bela’s “You wouldn’t understand. No one did.“ and “I’ll just do what I’ve always done. I’ll deal with it myself”. See, I always thought Bela must’ve told people, when she was a kid. That she reached out for help not just to her mother, but to everyone around her that she thought could’ve help: teachers, maybe even law enforcement; adults that should’ve being worthy of that trust and protected her. Except no one did (and the fact that her family seemed to be not only very rich but influential paints a very bleak picture that surely contributed to her cynic view of the world). So she took matters in her own hands, and sold her soul for ten years of relative safety and freedom from her abusers.

To tie it all up, her final scene in that episode offers some more moments that again, are very in line with her backstory. We see how she treats relationships as transactionals: she pays ten grand to the Winchesters for saving her life, like she paid with her soul. Dean, again, draws attention to her likely messed up past by calling her damaged, and she replies that “takes one to know one”. Terrible childhood, ammirite. The show wasn’t been subtle here: it’s telling us Bela has a terrible past, like the Winchesters do, but of a different kind that has resulted in a different kind of person. So yeah, I think all the facts were hinted at back in 3x06.

We could go even futher back and point out 3x03, Bela’s introduction. One of the very first things she says in the show, during her first face to face with Dean (a character that just condemned his soul to Hell), is “We’re all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride”. Sure, it could be an incredibly fortuitous coincidence; as a writer, I’ve had those and they’re damn great. But it seems VERY lucky, and more likely to be a case of the kind premeditated, well-placed foreshadowing that Kripke excels at.

So, okay. I’ve established why I think Bela’s backstory wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. But why is there a notable narrative in fandom that it IS?

First thing first, I want to get something out of the way: you don’t have to like it even if it was planned ahead. I understand it’s a very thorny subject, and to make matters worse, it’s inherently tied to her death. You might even be fine with the what, but not with how it was dealt with (although personally, I appreciate that neither the abuse nor her death were shown onscreen. In fact, the worse violence we see Bela on the receiving end of in her run is Dean’s threats and manhandling, which seems like a very purposeful choice ngl. Even Gordon freaking Walker was gentler lmao).

But I do disagree with some extended fandom opinions on the topic, and I guess that’s what the post is about. For one, I don’t see how the show “condemned” or morally judged Bela in this scenario. If anything, they clearly wanted to make her sympathetic, AND they showed Dean as being in the wrong by robbing him of information. Dean’s opinion on Bela couldn’t count for shit, for once, because he didn’t have the full picture; because Bela had deemed him UNWORTHY of the full picture, and thus anything he had to say on her couldn’t be taken at face value (except this is Supernatural, so I guess this was a little too much to ask of some people?). I think saying that just because Bela died and went to Hell as a consequence of her deal, IN THE SAME SEASON the same happened to our co-lead, because the writers deemed her evil and irredeemable is simplistic at best, and the audience projecting their own feelings (or being unable to see past Dean’s) onto the writing.

All that said, to go back to the initial point of all of this xD: WHY does fandom seem to insist on viewing this narrative choice as some cheap last minute addition?

There might not be one explanation that fits all, but I have a few ideas. One is that, if this wasn’t planned for and hinted at from early on, some people might feel as if this “absolves” them of their previous (and disgustingly hateful and misoginistic) reactions to Bela. Others will see this as absolving Dean, and maybe even Sam to a lesser extent, for not helping her and for being callous towards her; if her tragic backstory was this artificial, rushed choice made by Those Writers, then Dean wasn’t responsible for reprehensible attitudes towards someone who deserved his compassion (and it can’t be denied that this fandom loves absolving Dean of responsibility lmao). And a lot people are probably only repeating what they've heard from others as the accepted narrative, especially those that didn't even watch all of s3 if at all (Castiel is my fave too, but seriously, s1-3 are worth it).

It’s like they’re creating this imaginary separation between Bela pre-reveal, and Bela post-reveal, to make the situation easier to themselves. See, Bela pre-reveal was this annoying bitch who inconvenienced and embarrassed our leads (not to mention dared have chemistry with them), and thus deserved to be punished for it; or, if we’re going with more modern fandom sensibilities, she can be made to fit into the shallow #GirlBoss mold, with a side of “Secretly A Lesbian And Therefore Not A Romantic Threat” flavour -the current preferred method to make controversial female characters more palatable.

The reveal throws a wrench into this narrative. “Bitch who deserves her comeuppance” is a hard sell when you’re talking about a character who survived csa. And a shallow #GirlBoss reading doesn’t work if you have to acknowledge that Bela was one of, if not the most tragic characters in the entire run of Supernatural.

She spent over half her life at the mercy of her abuser(s), hurt by those who should’ve loved her and protected her most. The rest of her life was extremely lonely, with seemingly only a cat as company, and a surface-level freedom that hid under the sentence that loomed over her head. She died without a single friend, or a simple show of kindness and compassion, without anyone bothering to fight for her. And then she ended up tortured for who knows how long until she became one of her torturers.

All of that is extremely difficult to digest. And when things are hard to swallow, people do as people do, and they try to simplify them. So, sure. Bela’s reveal wasn’t ever hinted at, it’s completely removed from her character and the person we met, and is not even worth trying to fit into the narrative. Sounds easy.

#talking to the void #my thoughts #spn thoughts #supernatural #bela talbot #bitter lau tag #fandom nonsense #spn 3x15 #spn 3x06 #spn s3

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simpingforsoftboys · 4 years ago

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The Odds of Us All

Special CH1: A Glance At The Past (the one where Sakusa meets Y/n)

Okay so this chapter takes place right before Y/n’s first year of high school! I wanted to write more Sakusa within the “The Odds of Us All” AU but it’s not my dudes time to shine yet :( So here we are, I’m going to write about the time Y/n met Kiyo ahahhaha. Enjoy my fellow Sakusa simps ;)

*technically this can be read as a stand alone one shot but why would you only settle for that when you can read the series?

“Y/n, I know you want to stick by Tetsuro and Kenma... but you seriously need to consider your future. Eventually you’ll have to separate from them, don’t let your history hold you back in the past.” M/n Ushijima, Y/n’s competent and straight forward mother advised, gazing at her daughter with a knowing stare. At the moment the h/c girl was looking through a long lists of high schools she had the options of attending. Her top four options were Fukurodani Academy, Shiratorizawa Academy, Itachiyama Institute, and Nekoma High.

Fukurodani was a good option, they had a focus on subjects like Japanese and English literature, as well as history and art. While Nekoma High’s more favored subjects were the STEM courses, and they even had a bonus of being the chosen high school of her childhood friends, Kuroo and Kenma. These two were the cheapest options- neither of them being a private academy like the other two.

Itachiyama Institute was probably the place her mother wanted her to attend, they were renowned for their excellent college prep classes, exceptional sports teams, and high rate of graduating students getting into Imperial Universities (Japan’s Ivy League basically). Shiratorizawa Academy was all the way in Miyagi- but they had a dorm that she could stay in. There was also the fact that she was guaranteed an invitation from the headmaster himself, due to the Ushijima family’s children studying there as per tradition. Her cousin Wakatoshi also attended the school, as expected of him, if she chose to follow his lead she was guaranteed friends and a good time also.

Choosing a high school was hard- especially when her mother was pushing her in one direction, only to backtrack and say that she would support her no matter what school she wanted to attend. Y/n briefly wondered what it’d be like when deciding on a university in the future- however those thoughts were far from pleasant so she shook them off.

“I... don’t know mom.” M/n looked at her daughter long and hard, releasing a soft sigh before pulling out her phone and tapping away.

“How about you take Itachiyama’s entrance exams and see if you at least qualify? Any other school on this list will accept you as a student in a heartbeat. At least this way you’ll know if Itachiyama is even an option for you.”

You blinked, considering her words, they made sense so you agreed.

“Great, the entrance exams are this Sunday, I’ll drop you off then.”

~Time skip to Sunday, location: Itachiyama Institute~

You had finally finished the god awful tests. It had taken an excruciating three hours of your time to complete and your brain felt like literal mush. Stomach rumbling, you made your way to one of the vending machines you remembered passing by earlier. One thing you were glad for was the location of the exams- right in the administration wing of the school- naturally, the heads of the place had access to the best snacks. You walked silently, eyes gazing at the ceiling, not paying attention to anything but the fluorescent lights. Rounding the hallway corner, your eyes fell to the end of the hall- where the vending machine was located. Humming a small tune you continued your leisure stroll, fishing through your pocket for your credit card. After retrieving it you purchased a mini chocolate cake (that looked more like a brownie than anything), white chocolate matcha cookie, and a tiny cup sized bottle of milk tea. As the transaction was going through, you picked up on approaching footsteps and people’s voices.

“Apologies *indistinguishable*-san I simply must take this phone call. There’s a vending machine around the corner, would you please wait for me there?” An adult said, heavy footsteps receding, a door opened, then shut. You turned back to the task of collecting your snacks.

“Is this what I think it is?” A noticeably younger sounding male’s voice asked, barely audible. You vaguely wondered what was going on over there, before promptly setting your food on a nearby chair, pulling out your hand sanitizer and applying it swiftly. As you contemplated what snack to indulge yourself with first, you were deaf to the incoming footsteps and soft gasp from behind you.

“But if I ate the cake I might accidentally spill crumbs in the hallway... maybe the cookie’s a better idea?” You wondered, pocketing your sanitizer, still oblivious to the boy behind you. “Hmm...”

“Uhh... excuse me?” That voice from earlier called out, startling you. You whipped around, only to make eye contact with pretty onyx eyes, the color of warm coal and cooled lava rock. His entire being was outlined in a highlighter yellow- it was kind of fitting, having matched the schools signature colors.

‘Woah my soulmate’s actually kinda hot,’ you thought to yourself, taking in the boys appearance. Wavy black hair, two moles above his right eye, you couldn’t see the rest of his face- since it was obscured by a white face mask. He was perhaps 5′11- but something told you he was on the cusp of a growth spurt. So caught up in your musings you hadn’t noticed that you had accidentally voiced your thoughts out loud. “Thank god he’s not an old man.”

“...Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Mr. Highlighter questioned, staring at you incredulously.

“Oh no did I say that out loud? I am so sorry- I swear I didn’t mean too!” You exclaimed before bowing in apology, cheeks hot with embarrassment. Sometimes you spoke whatever was on your mind- a bad habit you were currently working hard on breaking.

“...” He didn’t say anything, still looking at you judgingly. Internally he was wondering why he was destined to be with someone like you. “Sakusa.”

“Huh?” You straightened back up, wide eyed.

“My name’s Sakusa Kiyoomi... this is the part where you’re supposed to introduce yourself.” Uh oh ‘Sakusa’ sounded a tad bit irritated with you now. His name sounded familiar somehow... but you didn’t quite know why.

“R-right! My name’s Ushijima Y/n!” You smiled nervously, awaiting his reaction. He looked pleasantly surprised at that.

“Ushijima? Like Ushijima Wakatoshi?” Your smile dwindled slightly at his choice of words. Of course he was excited- not because he met you- but because he was able to use you to meet Toshi.

“Yeah... he’s actually my first cousin.” Attempting to keep the conversation flowing you asked “are you a volleyball fan?”

Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi noticed how you reacted when he asked about Wakatoshi, so he decided to avoid that topic for now.

“Mm... I’m actually a player. That’s what I’m here for... I was scouted for the volleyball team.” He says it so nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t sought out to join the best high school boys team in the entire country.

You’re just as impressed as he hoped thought you’d be, all starry eyed and mouth open in awe. “Scouted? That’s amazing Sakusa!” He’s pleasantly surprised that you forgoed the honorifics, but a tad bit disappointed at your use of his surname. “You must be very skilled- I’m only here because I had to take the entrance exams.”

“How were they?” He finds himself blurting out softly, it’s uncharacteristic of him- not that you could know that- but he finds that he doesn’t mind being a bit forward when it comes to you. Despite not usually being one for conversation, he doesn’t want this chat to end.

“Mm they were okay I guess... but the math portion was pretty difficult.” Speaking about the hard exams remind you about how hungry they made you and your stomach gurgles in response. Behind his mask, Kiyoomi’s lips quirk at the abashed expression you make- which disappears once you wave it off with a laugh and a brief apology. “Want a cookie? Or a cake?” You question, nodding over to your waiting snacks. He shakes his head. It feels almost invasive as he watches you unwrap your cookie- noticing the care you take in making sure your fingers only touch the wrapper, not wanting to touch the cookie itself, lest you get crumbs on your hands. But you don’t look uncomfortable at his weird interest, so he continues to stare. “I can buy you a snack? What do you like to eat?”

“It’s fine, I have money.” The dark haired male pats his pocket, “I like umeboshi... anything with umeboshi.” Those enchanting e/c orbs flit over to him once more and he discovers that you’re probably the only person that could stare at him endlessly without making him uncomfortable. This thought scares him- he doesn’t even know you- he shouldn’t be thinking such things. You’re tapping away at the vending machines, cookie having been finished and trash tossed in a bin nearby. He assumes you’re just buying another snack for yourself.

“Here... is ume daifuku good?” You question, holding it out to him with one hand, while your other one reaches back into the dispenser part of the machine and retrieves a can of matcha tea. “Delivery for one!” The smile adorning your lips sends a pleasant feeling throughout his body, normal tendencies forgotten, he accepts your offer.

“Thank you... can I pay you back? I don’t have cash on me at the moment, but maybe another time?” He pockets the canned tea and holds the daifuku in one hand, allowing you to spurt some hand sanitizer on his empty one. You shake your head, h/c hair swinging, his heart sinks in his chest- rejection overcoming him.

“Don’t even think about paying me back Sakusa... but we can meet up again... maybe off of school grounds?” A shy look overtakes your features and he can feel his heart picking itself up off the floor and taking flight at how cute you are.

“I... wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Great, let’s keep in touch then! What’s your number? I’ll text you!” He tells you his number, watching as you type it into your phone quickly.

“Say cheese!” You twirl around holding the camera up so that it focuses on Kiyoomi’s tall figure, your head poking in at the corner of the screen. He doesn’t do much- the only noticeable change in his demeanor is the *very* slightly shocked look on his face (you can tell by the wide stretch of his eyes). He licks his lips behind his mask and looks as if he wants to say something, but he doesn’t get the chance.

“Sorry about that Sakusa let’s continue the tour- hm am I interrupting something?” The headmasters voice says from the end of the hallway, he’s pleased to see the two of you together. Both being the children of very influential people- it bode well for the school if you kids got along.

“No, we’re good thank you... I’ll talk to you later Ushijima.”

“Call me Y/n, Sakusa! I’ll text you okay?”

The headmaster walks off, expecting Sakusa to follow. As he passes you he says one last thing.

“You can call me Kiyoomi then.”

Series Masterlist

Taglist: CLOSED @kac-chowsballs @kotwd @ems1des @normalisthenewnorm @micheleinumaki @gomchan @empress-simps @mer-der-mi @honeyswhiskers @sakusas-number1-stan @astronomyturtle @akirahyoshi @afire24 @its-the-aerieljeane @carla-1217 @fucktheworlddude @baes-x @shadoweepingscream @sirachano0dles @katamint @420-uwu @xstormiii @youtuboo @chibiitakoyaki

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu soulmate au

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years ago

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From The Doorstep || Demetri Volturi x Child!OC ||

Part 2: Anything You Can Do

Words: 3978

Warnings: There is talk of abandonment and the care system (fostering/adoption etc.) that is less than complimentary, but it has a very fluffy ending.

Summary: On a starry night in Volterra, Demetri finds an unexpected package on their doorstep, leading to a steep learning curve and some tough decisions that make for an unconventional bedtime story.

It was Demetri who had found it, squirming and making noises that were completely unintelligible as it reached for the tiny ribbon wrapped around the basket handle. He’d glanced up and down the street and across the square but few people who were still there at this time paid the wriggling pink mass any attention. The next thing he did was snatch its tenor and weave his way through its mind to find another one he could follow to return the chubby little mess to its rightful owner. There was a tenor there, but he had had to dig quite a while to find it, and usually the longer he had to search for it the weaker the bond between those people who the tenors belonged to was, their strongest bonds usually at the forefront of their minds making it easier to find the people they thought of and saw most often. Since the gurgling mass of blankets before him had only three tenors in its repertoire, he was going to hazard a guess that the weak connections between them meant none of the three those tenors belonged to actually wanted this baby on their doorstep.

With no other choice, he’d lifted the basket with ease and hauled the little human inside with a resigned sigh. In that moment, he’d been intending to have the secretary help him find the nearest person to pass the babe off to; it smelled something awful and was starting to get grouchy if the noises it was making was any indication, but neither he nor anyone else in the castle was equipped to handle a human baby so it made sense to pass it onto someone who did. It had been a very long time since most of them were human, meaning if any of them had had children they were a faded memory at best, and the knowledge of how to care for them was long gone. His nose had wrinkled against the smell as it began to scream, and he’d moved his hand into the moses basket it had been left in, intending on patting it gently in the hopes it would calm down before any of the guard came running.

He’d not expected it to reach out and wrap tiny fingers around one of his own. His eyes went a little wide as it tugged on his hand, trying to pull it closer. Demetri let it, suddenly utterly fascinated with its chubby little face as it turned red with the effort it put into screaming and bawling at him, glistening tears clinging to dark lashes as it tried to suckle his fingers. He winced a little, slightly disgusted by the wet, slippery saliva now coating them as soft gums closed around his granite skin. It moved his fingers in its mouth until they rested at an angle a little to the right, its cries quieting to sniffles and grumbling sounds. Was it hungry? Is that what this meant? It had no teeth so it wasn’t like he could feed it anything the secretary kept in her desk as snack foods. Mindlessly, he carefully set the basket on her desk and reached for the phone to call the young woman back for the night to sort his odd discovery.

He learned a lot that night to. The moment he had mentioned he had discovered a baby the secretary had come running back with a whole bag of tricks. Demetri had let her use his room, though he was loathe to lower the messy little thing into the shallow water she’d ran into his bathtub after seeing the mess it had made soiling itself, but she’d left his bathroom as spotless as she’d found it after she was done bathing what turned out to be a baby girl. The secretary had changed her nappy next, fed her a bottle of some foul-smelling thing she’d called formula, and made the little girl burp on demand. He had had no idea humans could be encouraged to burp simply by tapping on their back and had quietly resolved to try it on the next unsuspecting human he found to see if it was a trait they carried through to their adult life. Demetri had really thought they’d made the baby girl quite happy, now she was clean and fed and warm, but then she’d started screaming again and just like before she’d immediately turned to suckling his fingers when he’d offered them to her. He’d had to learn about teething then and was somewhat pleased, on some level, to know he had eased the little one’s pain.

All that screaming had attracted attention of course, and suddenly Felix was in his room, as well as Alec and Jane, the latter promptly running off to tell the Masters of their tiny, unexpected guest. The bombshell had been when Caius demanded he get rid of it immediately. He was not happy at all with the secretary’s response.

“Master…I cannot call anybody until tomorrow.”

Demetri hadn’t really been listening if he was perfectly honestly, only catching little bits and pieces of the conversation as they’d spoken about where the baby should go next. He’d been fascinated by the way she played with his fingers, the gummy smile she gave him when he chuckled at her and tickled her stomach with his free hand. Demetri had been thoroughly preoccupied with how the stubborn little thing had tried to fight falling asleep, big green eyes blinking owlishly at him before she simply couldn’t keep them open anymore, tiny lips pressed together in a sweet sort of pout as heavy little breaths escaped her nose. She had a thin tuft of brown hair on her head, and he’d curiously ran his hand over it, surprised by how soft it had been beneath his fingertips. Demetri had agreed the girl could stay with him through the night, since he had watched the secretary feed, wind and settle the child and it would potentially need to be done every few hours if she was as young as her small stature suggested.

He’d googled what he’d missed after they all left him be, Felix grinning smugly at him as if he expected him to break any moment. The more he read, the worse he felt. This sweet little thing would have to go to the police first, then be put into the system? Worse yet, people might not even adopt her! She might never find a permanent home with a family that loved her! She could instead be fostered, live in someone’s home for a little while and then be moved on to a new family. So many children were already in need of homes…would she be lost in their system? Would anyone notice her? Help her? The thought made him horribly anxious, especially when he went on to read all the horrible statistics about children in care. More likely to commit crimes, less likely to go onto higher education, more likely to die earlier in life…

Demetri had slammed his laptop lid closed, marched straight to Aro, and refused to hand her over to the human authorities. He had had to fight for her to, the entirety of the guard pretty much against the idea and thinking he was crazy. Not wanting to lose his tracker however, Aro had given him a week to prove he could step up and parent the little girl. Demetri had immediately used his Amazon Prime privileges to priority order as many parenting books with five star ratings as he could and remodelled an entire corner of his quarters into a nursery, refusing any help offered since he was determined to prove them all wrong. In the space of a week, through copious amounts of reading and hands on experience, Demetri became an expert in all things baby. It wasn’t unusual to find him walking around the gardens with the little girl in his arms, or reading to her before bed as she slammed little hands down onto the pictures in the picture books he’d brought, exposing her to all sorts of new things to keep her mind engaged and stimulated.

Astraea Volturi had received her coven necklace two years ago and been doted on ever since.

“Well done dear ones, you have served us well.” Aro smiled at each of his guard, clearly pleased with their work, and Demetri stood a little taller before his Master. It had been agonising to be away as long as he had been, even though he knew she’d been well taken care of by her family. Felix had come with him as he always did, but Alec and Jane had been left behind, a few spare members of the lower guard all that were needed to take care of the nomads having a territory squabble – he’d been thoroughly amused at having to remind nomads that they had no territory. He had expected to find her with them now, the twins coddling his sweet girl as they often did when they had the chance to play with her. Astraea was nowhere to be seen though. Not a hint of cocoa coloured hair or sparkling green irises anywhere. He almost groaned when Aro turned to talk to the lower guard that had been under his command without dismissing him to go and find her.

His words blended together, Demetri unsure if it was just his impatience or if Aro really was dragging this out with meaningless words and gushing praise. He put his gift to good use, internally reaching for her tenor when he caught it, the pitter patter of little feet he knew so well echoing faintly down the hall. He almost turned his head, but then the footsteps paused and a warm, delightful giggle hit his ears, quickly followed by a hushing. Demetri turned his head back towards Aro, seeing the glint in his eyes. Clearly his Master was in on it to, buying her time to pull off whatever little trick she had up her sleeve. His Astraea had grown into an energetic, bubbly little thing and it wasn’t the first time she’d gotten up to some mischief, mischief he mostly blamed Uncle Felix’s bad influence for.

“Quietly now, you do you want your father knowing you are sneaking up on him now, do you?” Heid’s voice was easily recognisable to his ears and Demetri couldn’t help but smile slightly. Sneaking up on him, was she? He had seen a documentary once where predators in the animal kingdom let their children sneak up on them and pretended to be scared so they could finetune their hunting instincts, perhaps he should do the same? She would hopefully one day become the same kind of predator he was, there was no harm in preparing her early was there? Besides that, he didn’t think he could stand to see the disappointment on her face if it didn’t work. The quiet creak of the door made his lips twitch upwards. She was only human after all, his sweet girl clumsy on her feet at the best of times having only just really learned to use them. It was like having an elephant come stamping across the stone towards him but he pretended to be suitably distracted by Aro’s ramblings, unsurprised the man had indulged her in this.

He heard her before he felt her.

“Rrraaaaaa!”

Dutifully, he flinched and gasped in shock, eyes widening and jaw dropping as he very carefully took a step away. She had heard him growl once before and had been trying to imitate the sound ever since in her own, adorable way, though she could never get close to the low threatening sounds he could produce. If anything, it was like watching a kitten struggle to meow, but she’d leapt forward simultaneously and began tugging at his hand to to complete her terrifying attack. Hand fluttering dramatically to his chest, Demetri slowly broke into a smile, his heart melting at the look of triumph on her chubby little face. Maybe one day she’d look back and realise just how fake his acting really was, but for today it was clear he had made her happy in this small fraction of forever they’d get to spend together.

“You scared me sweet girl!” he chuckled. She had most of her milk teeth through now but there were still a few gaps towards the back of her mouth. It was not enough to ruin the brilliance of her smile. Still giggling manically, she let him go in favour of lifting her arms up, her grabby hands telling him exactly what she wanted. It was no trouble for him to pull her up onto his hip, his lips finding her forehead automatically as his fingertips tickled over her stomach. Peals of laughter rang out, making his smile stretch wider as he tightened his grip so her squirming wouldn’t make her fall.

“No Daddy!” she cried.

“No? You dare say no to the tickle monster?” he challenged, his voice a rough growl. A halo of curls bounced about her face, one quickly turning red. Demetri stopped tickling her, hand coming around to clasp her shoulder gently. Her giggles slowly died away, two short arms wrapping around his neck and soft hair tickling his cheek as she rested her head against his shoulder.

“I missed you Daddy.” She said, snuggling closer as his heart melted. She smelt of that strawberry shampoo she liked, the kind he bought specifically because it wasn’t supposed to sting if it accidentally found it’s way into her eyes, and the fresh, clean scent that came with her bubble bath. Heidi had clearly already bathed her and she was clad in her pyjamas now, the colourful stripes encasing her body very different from the little dress he’d seen her in when he left. She’d cried that day, not understanding why he had to leave her again so soon after he’d gotten back, and he had spent as often as he could while out on this mission calling home to ensure his little Astraea didn’t feel she’d been forgotten about. He’d picked her up a few little presents to, but those could wait until tomorrow when she was well rested.

“I missed you to sweet girl, so very much.” He murmured.

“Are you reading me?” she asked, doe-eyed. Demetri smiled, glancing to his Masters and nodding briefly when he was dismissed with a quiet wave of Aro’s hand before he turned and exited the throne room. Astraea remained cuddled into his side, eyes shining.

“To me, are you reading to me, tonight.” He amended automatically as she curled her fingers into his cloak, then uncurled once more.

“Are you?” she repeated. Her speech had come along a little slowly for his tastes, but she was doing well, picking up words and phrases from them like a sponge now.

“Yes, I will be reading you your story tonight.” He confirmed, turning the corner to head up the stairs to their floor. For a while Demetri had been okay with the crib in his room, Astraea still so young she didn’t always sleep through consistently and seemed to prefer being close to him, but slowly as time marched on and she grew he knew she needed a space of her own. She very clearly wasn’t keen on the idea of leaving his room so the guard had made it an exciting affair, letting her choose everything from the toddler bed she’d sleep in to the colours they’d paint the doors in her room. With Astraea ‘in charge’ they’d quickly set to work decorating her new bedroom and she’d been very excited to see her scribbly designs (a bunch of lines on paper Demetri had pretended he understood as she babbled about them to him) come to life.

Once he’d opened her door, he set her down with a smile, watching her scamper her way towards her bed while he unhooked the cloak from his shoulders, flashing into his room just across from her to place it on the coat rack before he moved back into her room. She had already crawled her way up onto the covers, pulling them back with both hands so she could move onto the mattress beneath. Demetri bent at the waist, flicking on her nightlight by the door and turning off the main light. She reached to turn on her bedside lamp, the stars illuminating bright white as he tucked her in and settled on the edge of her bed.

“Daddy? Tell me it?” she requested, hugging her preferred cuddly toy to her chest as she looked up at him.

“Tell you what?” Demetri tilted his head, fishing for more information as he reached for her storybook. They were currently reading a series of stories Heidi had found on her travels, The Wishing Chair Collection.

“Not that one!” she whined. Demetri frowned, setting the book on the mattress.

“You do not want to read this tonight?” he questioned. She shook her head, looking down at her little lion friend.

“We want name story.” She said matter of factly. His expression softened.

“Again?” he chuckled. Astraea nodded her head, her smile dazzling as she showed off her little teeth once more.

“Please?” she dragged out the ‘ee’ sound and Demetri was quick to put a finger to his lips, silencing her so he could gather his thoughts. It was a story he had told her once, not expecting her to find it interesting, but for whatever reason she’d latched onto it.

“A long time ago, on a dark, breezy night, a knight was patrolling his Masters castle.” He started. Astraea settled into her pillows, green eyes watching him with such reverence it made his heart swell. “Whilst patrolling his route, he heard a strange sound coming from outside the castle doors, so the knight went to investigate and found the most beautiful baby in all the land.” He continued, smiling when she giggled.

“That’s me!” she cheered. Demetri leaned forward to gently tap her nose.

“This beautiful baby had the brightest green eyes, and hair so soft it was like touching angel wings. The knight could not understand why she was all alone. She lay in a basket, her only belongings being her clothes, and her blanket. She was very cold, and very sad, so the knight took her inside to help her.” he carried on as though she hadn’t interrupted, his body now resting alongside her small legs, propped up on his elbow so he could stroke her hair gently. Her eyes were already starting to droop.

“Then what?” she asked.

“Then, the knight had to call for some help. He was not really sure how to look after the beautiful baby so he needed someone to teach him. His Masters tried to tell him she would be better in a different home, that someone who already knew how to look after her could do better than he could, but he knew, from the moment he had seen her, that the beautiful baby was meant to be his. She was a gift from the Gods.” He said, voice quieter now as she blinked owlishly.

“So…kept her.” she mumbled. He nodded.

“He kept her,” he confirmed, “But then the knight realised the beautiful baby had no name. He thought of lots of different names, like Phoebe, Valeria, Carina…none of them fit. They were pretty yes but not right for the beautiful baby. He remembered the night he had found her that the stars had been so bright, almost as though they had turned on solely to guide the knight to his baby.” Her eyes were drooping now, her body turned ever so slightly towards him and sharp little inhales escaping her whenever she woke herself back up from her slumber. Sleep was quickly claiming her and she would be no match for it soon enough he knew, but to see her so desperate trying to stay awake simply to stay with him a little longer…

“Softie.” Felix’s voice reached his ears but when he glanced at the door there was nobody there. Demetri dutifully ignored him to continue his story, his hand never ceasing the rhythmic motions on her hair, relishing in the softness of the strands between his fingers.

“Before he served his Masters, the knight had served the Gods of his village. There were many Gods, all in charge of different things, but one was a star-maiden, a goddess of justice and innocence who was rumoured to have rejoined the stars when Earth became to corrupt for her to live on. He looked back at the beautiful baby. She was innocent and had fallen from the stars right into the arms of a knight who pursued justice…so he named her after the star-maiden, he named her Astraea.” He concluded, his voice as soft as a breath of air. Her eyes had fluttered closed at some point and stayed that way ever since, but Demetri couldn’t bring himself to pull away from his sweet girl just yet.

Her breathing was soft, even, her fingers occasionally tightening around her little lion friend. Demetri kissed his middle and index fingers, pressing them lightly to the cuddly toy’s forehead before he repeated the motion with Astraea. She didn’t stir at all, the innocence radiating from her little body. He wondered briefly exactly what she dreamed about, seeing the way her nose scrunched in her sleep, and he hoped he had made her life nice enough that whatever she dreamt of was pleasant.

“Who would have guessed the key to bringing the Volturi bloodhound to heel lay in the hands of a small human?” Felix’s voice was low, teasing, so quiet Astraea would definitely not stir. Demetri rolled his eyes, pushing to his feet and making sure her duvet was tucked up beneath her chin how she liked it before he turned off her bedside lamp and headed for the door. He left it ajar as he always did and found Felix leaning against the wall just outside.

“You are just as besotted with her as me.” He accused. Felix grinned at his defensive tone and for a moment they lapsed into silence, just listening to the gentle sound ofher breathing. It was calming to Demetri in a way nothing else was, knowing his child was safe in her bed.

“We were going to play some cards in the common room if you wished to join us.” Felix said finally. Demetri nodded once.

“I’ll be down after a shower.” He agreed. No more was said as they parted ways, Demetri entering his quarters and kicking off his shoes. His room was littered with photographs he had never in a thousand years dreamed he would ever have, but her radiant smile beamed out of each frame from all corners of his room. His fingertips trailed the edge of the frame sitting on his bedside table as he passed it on the way to his closet for fresh clothes. Astraea had barely been in his care for three days when this one was taken, but he recalled the moment well. After a stressful few days trying to ensure he had all he needed and knew what he had to, it was the first moment of calm after the storm. Astraea had settled in his arms after a feeding and simply…gone to sleep, finally comfortable with her surroundings and with him. His lips twitched into a smile. She was so much smaller then, even tinier than she was now, the length of his lap at most.

His sweet girl was growing up fast, but Demetri was surrounded by all their most precious memories so as they moved from one to the next, he would never forget what happened after he took her from the doorstep.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #volturi #volturi fanfic #demetri volturi #demetri volturi fanfic #oc #heidi volturi #felix volturi #aro #demetri volturi x oc #demetri is a good father change my mind

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lastsonlost · 5 years ago

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BECAUSE THE CORONAVIRUS IS JUST HURTING FEMINIST AND ONLY FEMINISTS AND ABSOLUTELY NO ONE ELSE...

..........

Enough already. When people try to be cheerful about social distancing and working from home, noting that William Shakespeare and Isaac Newton did some of their best work while England was ravaged by the plague, there is an obvious response: Neither of them had child-care responsibilities.

Shakespeare spent most of his career in London, where the theaters were, while his family lived in Stratford-upon-Avon. During the plague of 1606, the playwright was lucky to be spared from the epidemic—his landlady died at the height of the outbreak—and his wife and two adult daughters stayed safely in the Warwickshire countryside. Newton, meanwhile, never married or had children. He saw out the Great Plague of 1665–6 on his family’s estate in the east of England, and spent most of his adult life as a fellow at Cambridge University, where his meals and housekeeping were provided by the college.

For those with caring responsibilities, an infectious-disease outbreak is unlikely to give them time to write King Lear or develop a theory of optics. A pandemic magnifies all existing inequalities (even as politicians insist this is not the time to talk about anything other than the immediate crisis). Working from home in a white-collar job is easier; employees with salaries and benefits will be better protected; self-isolation is less taxing in a spacious house than a cramped apartment. But one of the most striking effects of the coronavirus will be to send many couples back to the 1950s.

Across the world, women’s independence will be a silent victim of the pandemic.

Purely as a physical illness, the coronavirus appears to affect women less severely. But in the past few days, the conversation about the pandemic has broadened: We are not just living through a public-health crisis, but an economic one. As much of normal life is suspended for three months or more, job losses are inevitable. At the same time, school closures and household isolation are moving the work of caring for children from the paid economy—nurseries, schools, babysitters—to the unpaid one. The coronavirus smashes up the bargain that so many dual-earner couples have made in the developed world: We can both work, because someone else is looking after our children. Instead, couples will have to decide which one of them takes the hit.

Many stories of arrogance are related to this pandemic. Among the most exasperating is the West’s failure to learn from history: the Ebola crisis in three African countries in 2014; Zika in 2015–6; and recent outbreaks of SARS, swine flu, and bird flu. Academics who studied these episodes found that they had deep, long-lasting effects on gender equality. “Everybody’s income was affected by the Ebola outbreak in West Africa,” Julia Smith, a health-policy researcher at Simon Fraser University, told The New York Times this month, but “men’s income returned to what they had made pre-outbreak faster than women’s income.” The distorting effects of an epidemic can last for years, Clare Wenham, an assistant professor of global-health policy at the London School of Economics, told me. ��We also saw declining rates of childhood vaccination [during Ebola].” Later, when these children contracted preventable diseases, their mothers had to take time off work.

At an individual level, the choices of many couples over the next few months will make perfect economic sense. What do pandemic patients need? Looking after. What do self-isolating older people need? Looking after. What do children kept home from school need? Looking after. All this looking after—this unpaid caring labor—will fall more heavily on women, because of the existing structure of the workforce. “It’s not just about social norms of women performing care roles; it’s also about practicalities,” Wenham added. “Who is paid less? Who has the flexibility?”

According to the British government’s figures, 40 percent of employed women work part-time, compared with only 13 percent of men. In heterosexual relationships, women are more likely to be the lower earners, meaning their jobs are considered a lower priority when disruptions come along. And this particular disruption could last months, rather than weeks. Some women’s lifetime earnings will never recover. With the schools closed, many fathers will undoubtedly step up, but that won’t be universal.

Despite the mass entry of women into the workforce during the 20th century, the phenomenon of the “second shift” still exists. Across the world, women—including those with jobs—do more housework and have less leisure time than their male partners. Even memes about panic-buying acknowledge that household tasks such as food shopping are primarily shouldered by women. “I’m not afraid of COVID-19 but what is scary, is the lack of common sense people have,” reads one of the most popular tweets about the coronavirus crisis. “I’m scared for people who actually need to go to the store & feed their fams but Susan and Karen stocked up for 30 years.” The joke only works because “Susan” and “Karen”—stand-in names for suburban moms—are understood to be responsible for household management, rather than, say, Mike and Steve.

Look around and you can see couples already making tough decisions on how to divide up this extra unpaid labor. When I called Wenham, she was self-isolating with two small children; she and her husband were alternating between two-hour shifts of child care and paid work. That is one solution; for others, the division will run along older lines. Dual-income couples might suddenly find themselves living like their grandparents, one homemaker and one breadwinner. “My spouse is a physician in the emergency dept, and is actively treating #coronavirus patients. We just made the difficult decision for him to isolate & move into our garage apartment for the foreseeable future as he continues to treat patients,” wrote the Emory University epidemiologist Rachel Patzer, who has a three-week-old baby and two young children. “As I attempt to home school my kids (alone) with a new baby who screams if she isn’t held, I am worried about the health of my spouse and my family.”

Single parents face even harder decisions: While schools are closed, how do they juggle earning and caring? No one should be nostalgic for the “1950s ideal” of Dad returning to a freshly baked dinner and freshly washed children, when so many families were excluded from it, even then. And in Britain today, a quarter of families are headed by a single parent, more than 90 percent of whom are women. Closed schools make their life even harder.

Other lessons from the Ebola epidemic were just as stark—and similar, if perhaps smaller, effects will be seen during this crisis in the developed world. School closures affected girls’ life chances, because many dropped out of education. (A rise in teenage-pregnancy rates exacerbated this trend.) Domestic and sexual violence rose. And more women died in childbirth because resources were diverted elsewhere. “There’s a distortion of health systems, everything goes towards the outbreak,” said Wenham, who traveled to west Africa as a researcher during the Ebola crisis. “Things that aren’t priorities get canceled. That can have an effect on maternal mortality, or access to contraception.” The United States already has appalling statistics in this area compared with other rich countries, and black women there are twice as likely to die in childbirth as white women.

For Wenham, the most striking statistic from Sierra Leone, one of the countries worst affected by Ebola, was that from 2013 to 2016, during the outbreak, more women died of obstetric complications than the infectious disease itself. But these deaths, like the unnoticed caring labor on which the modern economy runs, attract less attention than the immediate problems generated by an epidemic. These deaths are taken for granted. In her book Invisible Women, Caroline Criado Perez notes that 29 million papers were published in more than 15,000 peer-reviewed titles around the time of the Zika and Ebola epidemics, but less than 1 percent explored the gendered impact of the outbreaks. Wenham has found no gender analysis of the coronavirus outbreak so far; she and two co-authors have stepped into the gap to research the issue.

The evidence we do have from the Ebola and Zika outbreaks should inform the current response. In both rich and poor countries, campaigners expect domestic-violence rates to rise during lockdown periods. Stress, alcohol consumption, and financial difficulties are all considered triggers for violence in the home, and the quarantine measures being imposed around the world will increase all three. The British charity Women’s Aid said in a statement that it was “concerned that social distancing and self-isolation will be used as a tool of coercive and controlling behaviour by perpetrators, and will shut down routes to safety and support.”

Researchers, including those I spoke with, are frustrated that findings like this have not made it through to policy makers, who still adopt a gender-neutral approach to pandemics. They also worry that opportunities to collect high-quality data which will be useful for the future are being missed. For example, we have little information on how viruses similar to the coronavirus affect pregnant women—hence the conflicting advice during the current crisis—or, according to Susannah Hares, a senior policy fellow at the Center for Global Development, sufficient data to build a model for when schools should reopen.

We shouldn’t make that mistake again. Grim as it is to imagine now, further epidemics are inevitable, and the temptation to argue that gender is a side issue, a distraction from the real crisis, must be resisted. What we do now will affect the lives of millions of women and girls in future outbreaks.

The coronavirus crisis will be global and long-lasting, economic as well as medical. However, it also offers an opportunity. This could be the first outbreak where gender and sex differences are recorded, and taken into account by researchers and policy makers. For too long, politicians have assumed that child care and elderly care can be “soaked up” by private citizens—mostly women—effectively providing a huge subsidy to the paid economy. This pandemic should remind us of the true scale of that distortion.

Wenham supports emergency child-care provision, economic security for small-business owners, and a financial stimulus paid directly to families. But she isn’t hopeful, because her experience suggests that governments are too short-termist and reactive. “Everything that's happened has been predicted, right?” she told me. “As a collective academic group, we knew there would be an outbreak that came out of China, that shows you how globalization spreads disease, that’s going to paralyze financial systems, and there was no pot of money ready to go, no governance plan … We knew all this, and they didn't listen. So why would they listen to something about women?”

Remember this article the next time a politician brings up the draft again...

because I remember the last reaction.

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #313

“i’m your turbo lover / tell me there’s no other”

Where are you located at this moment? In my bed. What if you found out your ex was having a child with someone else? If it was Sara, I'm finding out who the fuck I'm flying up there to punch his face in. If it was Jason, I'd either faint or be in the bathroom vomiting. Or both. I can almost promise you at least one or the other while I have an absolute emotional breakdown. I'm not at the point in my recovery where I can hear that and be entirely okay. I'd be happy for any of the others. At what age do you think you'll be ready to have children? Never. When was the last time you couldn't stop laughing? Why? I don't recall. Which of your friends do your parents get along best with? I guess Girt, since he's known my mom the longest of the friends I still have. I don't know about Dad; he barely knows any of my friends seeing as I don't live with him and see him rarely. Is there anyone in your friendship group that your parents don't like? No. Can you recall the last time you were extremely disappointed? I surprisingly can't remember, even though I know it was recent. Who was the last person to un-friend you on Facebook? I don't know, it's not like I go hunting people down if I notice the number has dropped, lol. Do you know why he/she decided to un-friend you? I'm certain it would've been something political. Are there any food wrappings, boxes, containers etc. in your room? No. Do you know anyone who does have cancer? I don't think anyone who currently has it, no. I may know someone via association, but idk. What is the worst medicine you've ever taken? There are two that very strongly stand out: the first one was in middle school, and the second sometime last year. I was put on an antidepressant that made me absolutely love life in the morning, like I would practically prance through school, but come afternoon, I was a fucking demon. Mom took me off that shit so fast. Most recently, my birth control was changed to have more estrogen for some reason I can't recall (maybe it had to do with mood?? idk), and it made me... I'm just gonna say I was a ~mess~. I slammed on breaks with it so fuckin fast. Safe to say I returned to my normal pill. Has your house or where you stayed ever flooded? My childhood home came very close during Hurricane Floyd. Thankfully the water never got actually inside the house, but it was an absolute lake outside. What was the last event or special occasion you participated in? My niece's birthday was actually a couple days ago, so we celebrated at my sister's house. What do you find yourself reminiscing about the most? I'll give you one guess. Do you have a favorite pianist? No. Song you listened to last is...? I have "Turbo Lover" by Judas Priest on right now. What's the last type of cookie you ate? Uhhh I would assume chocolate chip. Do you have your own computer? I have my own laptop, and I'm possibly getting an actual computer come May?? One of my WoW friends knows the hell I've been through with this laptop, and she and her husband are getting new computers then, so she's basically pushed her husband's old one on me, lol. Apparently it works just fine, he just wants something better. I've told her again and again to make some money off of it, but she's pretty much giving me no choice lmao. I appreciate it a whole lot, though. It'd be pretty nice to separate games onto an actual, capable desktop versus making my laptop sound like it's screaming for God's mercy if I boot something up. Describe your computer chair? I don't have one. Well, there's an old one in the extra room I'm going to end up using, but all I know is it's black. I've never paid closer attention to it. Do you sleep with your door open or closed? Open. I feel too isolated with it closed. Are you going to keep your last name when you get married? God no, it's very unlikely. I hate my last name, take it away. Does it bother you when people beg? Why are they begging, and how insistently? It depends. Do you have any weird rings? I have two, but neither I consider weird, at least. Well, I suppose the one with "bitch" carved on the inside would confuse non-Supernatural fans, haha. Are you anything like your siblings? Not really, no. At least, my two immediate sisters. Mom says I'm extremely similar to her eldest daughter though and wishes we'd talk more, but yeah, I just don't have anything to talk about with her. I'm so bad at initiating conversation. When was the last time you shaved your legs? October for when I was doing that witchy photoshoot with a friend. I absolutely hate shaving my legs and pretty much only do if anyone else whose opinion would affect me may see them. What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? Uhhh I guess all the "upgrades" I want to make to Venus' enclosure: a 40g tank and a nice, accurate hygrometer and thermometer, as well as the proper kind of lamp for her. I feel like such a "bad snake mom" still having her in her current terrarium because, while it's perfectly liveable and not dangerous, it's too small for her. It's pretty much always on my mind to some degree nowadays, so just like, dropping the terrarium and extra tools off would be a massive weight off my shoulders. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No, but I was able to skip the intro Writing course the last time I was in college; I just started in Writing II. Who took your profile pic? Anywhere where it's a picture of myself, odds are me. I hate getting pictures taken, but if it's gonna happen, it'll be through myself, knowing my "good" angle and such, lol. Have you ever been fishing? Do you know anyone who likes fishing as a hobby? I've been fishing many times, especially as a kid with my dad. There are pleeeenty of people I know who enjoy it. I don't anymore. Do you own any cats? What color are their eyes? Yes; his are a light blue. Is there a rose bush in your garden? What color are its roses? We don't have a garden. When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Over $100 with my own cash, a plane ticket. My recent tattoo deposit was exactly a hundred. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? No; Roman would NEVER allow me to cuddle anything else, and I am not even remotely kidding. I couldn't care less if any adult does, though. Would you rather read an erotic novel or watch an erotic film? Ew, neither, but I guess a book would be better just so my eyes weren't forever scarred. What’s your favorite way to make your home smell good? Do you spend a lot of money on making this happen? INCENSE!!!! God, I love incense burners. I don't light it anymore though because Venus' terrarium is also in my room, and it's not good for snakes. What are the main two colors in the room you’re currently in? Did you pick these colors out yourself? Just... white. That's it. Well, my furniture is brown. I didn't pick either. How often do you wake up in the night needing to pee? Usually once, sometimes not at all anymore. I guess my bladder actually grew a pair. If you live in a household with pets, who is responsible for their care - both in terms of finance and the physical tasks involved? As far as the physical care, me. Mom does help me do a full clean of Venus' cage sometimes, though, because I don't trust myself to both keep her around my neck while I scrub the tank, hide, bowl, etc., with a cat that is my absolute shadow. I don't want to be bent over the tub and Roman tries to do something; he's shown very little interest in Venus, but still, I'm one hell of a paranoid snake mom that doesn't want to risk her life. Full cleans only happen like twice a year, so I don't mind too much asking my mother for some help. I should point out that Mom doesn't want to hold her, so we can't reverse roles. Do you have anything hanging from your ceiling apart from lights? Not anymore, no. At my old house and the one before, I had lots of Pyramid Head gift tags hanging, but our landlord doesn't want me to do that here. Would you describe yourself as neat, messy or somewhere in-between? I'm in-between. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them needed to go the vets? Venus had to go to the vet about a year into me having her because she was showing symptoms of an RI in strange breathing episodes, which can be fatal to a snake. Thank God, nature, whatever, that she didn't. There were warning signs, but closer watch over her humidity saved her. Roman, meanwhile, was taken to the vet like a year ago to be neutered. When the pandemic is over, what is one thing you can’t wait to do again? I barely ever left the house beforehand, so... I guess go to the movies. What’s one thing (aside from essentials) that you spend the most money on each month? Has anyone ever told you you’re obsessed or addicted with it? N/A What’s your favourite genre of TV show to watch? What’s your favourite show that’s not from that genre? If I had to pick, uhhh... yeah, idk, due to the whole "not into TV much to begin with" thing. Would you rather be employed or self-employed? Why? Self-employed, though taking care of all business matters yourself is/would suck. I just really want to be my own boss for the sake of photographing whatever I want. IIs your hair naturally curly, straight or somewhere in between? Do you wish it was different? It's straight, but on the wavy side, and I wish it wasn't. Do you ever play online games with your friends? Which one(s)? Just WoW. In the last week, have you had any alcoholic beverages? Which? No. Do you ever wear accessories in your hair? Which ones? No. Do you feel free to post your views on social media? Yep. I honestly don't care who it pisses off. What is your favorite work of historical fiction? Well, I don't really know what you consider truly "historical" in age... That, and I'm bad at dates to begin with. There are lots and lots of older books and movies I adore, though. Old Yeller is one of my favorite books ever, for one. The Boy In The Striped Pajamas makes me sob, too. What cartoon character looks like you? I remember when Hotel Transylvania came out, my ex's mob pointed out how much she thought I looked like the daughter, especially when my hair was dyed black. Do you have hope for the future? Some days I do, some days I don't. Do you believe in yourself? Ehhhh... debatable, idk. Do you have trouble letting go of your past? Oh yes. Were you happy in high school? It's funny, I was very depressed in HS, but due to Jason and friends, it's one of my most cherished time periods. Were you ever a teacher's favorite? I mean it modestly, but I was almost always pretty obviously one of the teachers' favorites. I was a good student. Are you popular? I wasn't. If you won a title in the senior class polls, what was it? I didn't. Have you ever had a medical condition that made you unable to work? My social anxiety is so debilitating that it's made it questionable. It ruined my very short-lived previous jobs. What makes your life worth living? My future goals, family, friends... What is your favorite Bible verse? I don't have one. List five careers you've considered. Paleontologist, vet, game designer, author, and wildlife biologist are all past ones. Do you have any unusual talents? If so, what? No. What do you get compliments on? My hair and my art, mostly. What have people told you you should be? I've heard "a vet" most in my life. What is holding you back? My (mostly social) anxiety and extreme fear of judgment. Do you have anyone purely evil in your life? Hell no, I wouldn't allow that person to stay in my life. Have you ever felt threatened for your life? I've felt scared for it, yes. While riding my bike once, I ran into a guy in my old neighborhood who had a criminal history, including assault, just asking what I was listening to on my iPod. I stopped because I was scared to keep going, and he wound up asking for my Facebook, but guess who didn't accept THAT friend request. List ten positive words that describe you. That's too much thinking, man. List ten negative words that [you feel] describe you. And that's too much negativity to fish in. Are you a good person or a bad person? I mean, I try to be a good one. Have you ever contemplated being a bad person? I've done bad things, but I've certainly never deliberated tried to be an overall bad person. Have you ever resorted to vandalism because you didn't have a voice? No. Have you ever egged someone's house? Wow, no. Do you want to egg someone's house? Also no because I'm a fucking adult. Have you ever seen a piece of graffiti that you are thankful for? What an odd question. I mean, no? Name three people who hurt you and didn't care. I am quite positive Colleen doesn't care about the many times she did considering she's always right. Was your first crush sexual, or no? No, I was just a kid. What would you do if you got pregnant right now? I honestly can't say I know. If I was God forbid raped, I'd probably have an abortion because I psychologically could not handle that without being scarred for life. If it was by my own stupidity, I feel I'd probably have the baby but give it up for adoption. I just can't raise a kid. Do you have a medical condition that you are embarrassed or ashamed to tell people you have? No, I don't think so. What do you get asked the most? Hm. OH, WAIT, THAT'S EASY. I get asked a lot if my lip piercing hurt. Have you ever stood up for someone else who was being bullied? I know I have before, but I don't remember the occasion. What tragic news stories that you've heard has touched you the most? Man, that's a lot to think about. You see news articles on Facebook all the time, and a whole lot of them touch me, so I dunno. What is your favorite thing to order at Taco Bell? I like the cheese quesadillas, and whatever those cinnamon bites are called are really good. I'm still tilted they got rid of the fiesta potatoes, because I adored those. Where do you have cutting scars (if you have any)? I only ever had them on my wrist, but you can't see them anymore. Do you like cotton candy? Not very, but I mean, I can have a bite or two. It's way too sweet to eat a lot of it. What's the best piece of graffiti you've ever seen? I'm unsure, but I've definitely seen beautiful work, especially online. Do you like tattoos? "Like" is a colossal understatement. Do you like piercings? Yep yep yep. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? No. Those are not people I hang around with. Who is the last person you slow-danced with? Slow-danced? I don't think I've done that since Jason.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''turbo lover'' by judas priest

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 4 years ago

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Writing Commission - Mirror Image

One day I’ll upload a story earlier than midnight, but that day (night?) is not now. So enjoy this writing project I finally finished that deals with Hitoshi and Eri becoming siblings! This can also be seen as a sequel to "How It Goes" which is why these two stories will get their own collection!

(Gifted to Keisan at the request of the one who originally requested this piece.)

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Summary: Shinsou Hitoshi is asked how he feels about having a little sister. The answer is awkward, but he’s willing to try after hearing about the situation that left a little girl looking for a home. A day later and he meets Eri. Now Shinsou is trying to give the girl “her space” so she doesn’t fear his quirk, his controlling quirk, while also struggling with the knowledge that while Hizashi and Shouta would never replace him, it was starting to feel that way – but even if that was true it should be fine, right? Eri needed a safe place and Hitoshi could try and help with that! Then again, things often backfired when Hitoshi tried to help.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Relationship: Shinsou Hitoshi & Eri

Characters: Shinsou Hitoshi, Eri, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 8,002

Transaction Amount: $40.50 (USD)

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Check out my writing commission information here! Pledge to my Patreon to get exclusive content! Or buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi!

Read the story on AO3!

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It had taken three sleepy bites of his oatmeal before Shinsou Hitoshi realized his parents were nervous - both of them. It was hard to tell at first and, if Hitoshi hadn’t been their adopted son for close to a year, it probably would have been impossible, but all the signs were there.

Hizashi was ranting and rambling and nonstop talking without waiting for either Hitoshi or Shouta to respond like he usually did. Shouta, for his part, looked calm and half-asleep as he usually did, but there were no small smiles or little eyerolls at some of Hizashi’s stories. Instead he was just staring at his bowl like there was some answer as to why he suffered so much in his life.

In fact, now that Hitoshi was really paying attention, he noticed that neither of them were fully looking at him. They kept glancing at him, or stealing looks, or looking at the top of his head, but neither of them would look him in the eyes. It was like they were having some secondary conversation about him that Hitoshi had no way of hearing or understanding.

He could admit, if only to himself, that if this was at the beginning of his adoption he would have started panicking. He would have felt like they were thinking about getting rid of him or giving him up. After a year of living with them, however, Hitoshi decided that whatever it was, neither was going to be the first to say anything. For being professional heroes, they were pretty cowardly when it came to serious conversations.

“Okay.” Hitoshi set down his spoon, a little amused at how Shouta’s gaze snapped up to him and Hizashi shut his mouth so quickly there was an audible sound to it. Definitely serious, though. “What’s up?”

“Up? What makes you think something is up?” Hizashi asked-slash-laughed nervously, Hitoshi feeling no need to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Everything is fine!”

“Yeah, the way your voice keeps climbing definitely says everything is fine,” Hitoshi snorted, looking to Shouta, who met his gaze evenly and just stared. “I can always just call Kayama-sensei and ask her.”

The two shared a look, Hitoshi amused as Shouta arched an eyebrow and Hizashi sighed in what was clearly defeat before mumbling a soft, “Alright, alright.” He then cleared his throat, smiling nervously at Hitoshi. “We actually wanted to ask you, ‘Toshi… We- Well, how- Hypothetically, how would you feel about having a little sister?”

Well, then. Hitoshi was a lot more awake than he had been a few seconds ago. It also seemed like the other two had become even more nervous, Hizashi ready to bounce out of his skin and Shouta fidgeting. Somehow, that was even weirder than the question he had been asked.

“Uh, well…” Hitoshi finally spoke, clearing his throat as he looked between them. “I’d start by saying that that doesn’t really sound like a hypothetical question.”

While Hizashi nervously waved his hands around and tried to come up with an excuse, Shouta only nodded at him seriously, “That’s because it wasn’t.”

Giving one last look between the two of them, Hitoshi pushed his almost empty bowl away and sat back in his chair. “Okay.” Hitoshi looked to Shouta because he, at least, didn’t beat around the bush. “I’m listening.”

Shouta mirrored the position, leaning back in his own seat before sighing and looking upwards, no doubt trying to find where to start. “Remember that mission we were on a few weeks ago?”

Hitoshi hid a wince. It was hard not to remember it. It had been easy enough to find out it was something to do with something big, and Hitoshi had heard about some of the students and interns that had been at the center of it, but… The thing he really remembered was just how tired, worn, and banged up his dads were when they had finally come home.

Shouta had packs of ice over his eyes for days after, and Hizashi had ‘talked’ in nothing but sign language to rest his throat while constantly sucking on throat lozenges. Hitoshi had basically resorted to throwing blankets over them wherever they passed out and making sure they were taking all the meds they had been told to.

The thing was, though, that Hitoshi didn’t see how all of that could have anything to do with getting a ‘little sister.’

Thinking about his response for a moment, and deciding the two looked a little too serious, Hitoshi asked ‘innocently,’ “I remember, but is that meant to be a distraction? Seriously, did one of you knock someone up or get a uterus thanks to a quirk or something?” The reactions were beautiful.

While Shouta’s cheeks flushed and he stared with wide eyes as if he had just been hit in the face, Hizashi made a noise that was very close to a shriek as his face grew to be the same red color as Shouta’s. “Aizawa-Yamada Shinsou Hitoshi you know very well that neither of those things have happened!”

“Yeah, I know,” Hitoshi laughed, shaking his head. “But it got you two to stop looking so serious, didn’t it?” The looks of frustration, annoyance, and amusement were wonderful, truly. “Okay, okay, what does that mission have to do with a little sister?”

“It’s a bit of a long story,” Hizashi admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “And there are some parts we can’t tell you quite yet.” Ah, one of those kinds of missions, then.

“Thought you were good at long stories,” Hitoshi teased, grinning at Shouta’s laugh. “It is a day off, so why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“Nope, living room first,” Shouta said, standing up and collecting the bowls to put in the sink. “I am not sitting in those kitchen chairs for hours because someone doesn’t know when to shut their mouth.”

“There’s no need to talk about yourself like that, Shou.” Hizashi dodged something being thrown at him the same second Hitoshi snorted. His dads were something else, sometimes.

Still, they were eventually settled down in the living room, and the two did tell him why they were asking his opinion about a little sister.

Apparently, her name was Eri.

There were some parts of the story that were obviously missing or edited, but it didn’t take long for Hitoshi to realize that the past of the child named Eri was far, far worse than his past had ever been. While he had been afraid of his own quirk for years, the idea of having a quirk that someone would use for something like getting rid of quirks? He could only imagine how much she had suffered.

Add all of that with the fact she was in the hospital, alone, and had no home or family to be returned to? Well, it wasn’t much of a leap in logic.

“You want to adopt her.” Hitoshi didn’t bother to make it a question considering how their choice had been obvious before they even finished telling him the story.

“After we talk to you about it,” Shouta said, Hitoshi doing his best not to jump because that was… startling. It was their house, after all. “Tell us, honestly, how would you feel having a young child who needs special care in the house.”

“I…” Awkward was the immediate answer he wanted to give. While Hitoshi had been in houses with younger ‘siblings’ before, his interactions with them hadn’t really been great. In most cases the adults wouldn’t allow him to talk to them because of his quirk or, sometimes even worse, the kids would pick up on that hate and use him as a convenient scapegoat when they did something wrong.

Hitoshi tried not to hold it against them where they were young kids tossed into a system that didn’t really care about them, but, well. He had been happy when being adopted into a home with no other kids. He had been more than happy to stay an ‘only child’ too, but, well, Eri seemed like she needed a home more than he did.

“I think I feel a little weird about it, but I’m not against it,” Hitoshi finally said, knowing he wouldn’t just be able to say ‘yeah, sure!’ and get away with it.

“You can say no,” Shouta said softly. “We can find another home for her and other caretakers if this makes you uncomfortable, Hitoshi.”

Well, yeah it made him uncomfortable, but like hell was he going to say anything. This kid wouldn’t get better caretakers than Yamada Hizashi and Aizawa Shouta. “I know I can say no, but I don’t want to. A place like this… I think it’d be good for her. It was for me.” Aaand there was Hizashi’s happy wiggles and squeaks while Shouta tried to hide his smile and failed.

“Seriously, guys, I’m okay with it – I’ll even do my best to help her settle in and feel welcome. Give her a real childhood instead of the hell she got.” Even as the words left his mouth, though, Hitoshi felt a spike of anxiety.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t shoved the thought down because it was unlikely to the point of impossibility, but, well… one didn’t grow up in the system without that fear of being replaced by a child that was younger and cuter.

It was a cruel thought to accuse Shouta and Hizashi of being the types to do that, but Hitoshi had seen it in almost every home he had been in. Younger kids would come in and be adopted and the older foster children, those labeled in their files as problems, would be shuffled along to yet another house.

And it was stupid. It was stupid to think that his dads would ever do anything like that, but, well… he only had a couple more years until he was a legal adult. Eri already sounded like an adorable little girl the two loved. He doubted that they would just kick him out and get rid of him like that, but the fear that he only had a limited amount of time with them until he was an adult and forced to make another new life of his own… It wasn’t exactly a good feeling.

Those were worries for another time, though. As it was Eri was a young girl who had been deeply hurt and needed a safe, happy place to try and heal and discover who she was. She needed a place where she could learn to use her quirk and love her quirk - instead of hating it like she no doubt did and like Hitoshi sometimes still did.

He was definitely worried about the future, but, well… It was hard to be upset or scared when it came to someone who might as well have been his younger self.

He knew one thing, though. He was going to do his best to make sure this kid, Eri, felt safe.

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Apparently, the hypothetical question about getting a little sister meant Hitoshi got a little sister the next day. He wasn’t exactly surprised since she had no doubt been ready to leave the hospital for a few days, but it would have been nice to have more than half a day’s warning. As it was, Hitoshi was half-watching Eri explore the house and nervously flit from room to room. He would have been fully watching her, but he was mostly distracted by the fact Midoriya and some upperclassmen named Mirio was there.

Mirio was acting like Eri’s shadow, jabbering on and reassuring her with every step she took, while Midoriya was getting closer and closer and here came the conversation he had been trying to avoid since seeing him. “Midoriya. No matter what delusions you seem to believe about yourself, you aren’t sneaky.”

“I guess you have a point,” he said before immediately striding across the room and standing right in front of Hitoshi. “So we’ll do it this way! Hi, Shinsou, how are you doing?” From the kitchen, Hitoshi swore he heard Shouta laughing.

Finally rolling his eyes, Hitoshi gave Midoriya a small smile. “I’m doing better, Midoriya.” It had been mostly an accident that Midoriya had found out that he was adopted by Shouta and Hizashi, but he was good at letting them have their privacy and not telling anyone. Plus, the kid was such a bundle of cheer and goodwill that Hitoshi knew he wouldn’t be getting rid of him. “Better, but… kind of worried.”

“Worried?” Instead of saying that there was nothing to worry about, Midoriya proved he actually had a brain unlike most of 1-A. “Are you worried about your quirk or hers?” Because they both knew, with Hitoshi, his worries would always stem from something quirk related.

“I’ll give you one hint,” Hitoshi snorted, keeping his voice down so his dads wouldn’t hear. Midoriya was trustworthy enough to keep his secrets when it came to quirk worries, at least. “I mean… She grew up being controlled and hurt and now she’s in a house with someone who can brainwash her? Won’t that bring up some pretty bad memories for her?”

Midoriya gave a soft hum, Hitoshi thankful it looked like he was giving it some serious thought instead of just rushing to reassure him. “Well,” he finally said, tone slow and thoughtful. “I won’t lie. She’s been through a lot, but I don’t think she’ll be scared of you – or your quirk.”

“Really?” Hitoshi snorted, crossing his arms and giving Midoriya a look. Just because he was weirdly trusting of everyone didn’t mean others were like that. “You don’t think the girl who’s been trapped and experimented on for most of her life won’t be afraid of a guy she’s never met with a quirk like mine?”

Midoriya sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck like he always did when trying to find the words he needed. “It’s not… It’s not that, it’s- Eri doesn’t know how to really show her emotions, yet, but she’s perceptive. I think she might be perceptive enough to figure out quick enough how you sometimes feel about your own quirk. And… kind of hard to hate a mirror image, right?”

Right. Hitoshi was going to have to kill Midoriya, soon, because apparently the kid was not only a mind reader, but was a ruthless mind reader. Wasn’t his quirk already powerful enough without giving him mind reading abilities or something? As it was, Hitoshi settled for scoffing and shaking his head, “I don’t need a therapist, thanks.”

Midoriya laughed, giving him a pat on the shoulder that Hitoshi decided not to swat away. He’d only be wasting his energy, after all. “Sorry, sorry, but don’t worry so much! She’ll love you, Shinsou, I’m positive about it.”

“You’re positive about everything,” Hitoshi finally said, giving Midoriya a light shove that the other only laughed brightly at.

It really wasn’t long, though, before both he and Mirio were leaving, Eri clinging and hiding to Shouta who was showing her around her new room. Hitoshi, lingering in the hallway and trying to decide if he should give the girl space or go greet her, had the choice taken from him when he felt Hizashi gently push him forward. “Shouldn’t we give her time to settle in before meeting even more people? That’d be the polite thing to do, right?”

His response was Hizashi giving a snort of laughter and a teasing, “Since when did you ever worry about being polite?” Mm. Well. “It’ll be okay, ‘Toshi. She’s been stealing looks at you all day. Even if she might be cautious, she is curious.”

Alright. Curious was something he could deal with, and, well, Hizashi probably had a point about introducing himself. At least then she would know who was in the house with her.

When they got to the room, Eri was poking at the soft blankets and pillows, Shouta watching her closely while also looking a mixture between fond and protective. It was a look Hitoshi remembered when he had first been given his own bedroom.

“Hey, Eri,” Hizashi greeted quietly, having made sure to hit the squeaky floorboard that would let Eri know he and Hitoshi were in the doorway behind her. It was interesting to see all the same moves the two had used on him now that he had an outside perspective to it. “There’s someone we want you to meet today. Is that alright?”

While Eri looked at him, Hitoshi took the moment to properly look at her. He had seen that she was small when she first came in, but next to Shouta and half-hiding behind him she looked so small. Her expression was utterly blank, but her posture was shy and tucked in and her eyes read wary hesitation that came from shattered trust, and, well… Those were things Hitoshi could understand all too well.

Thinking on the best way to introduce himself, Hitoshi waited until Eri nodded before he was sitting right down where he was in the doorway, Shouta and Hizashi, the nonbelievers, both giving him odd looks. Hitoshi only ignored them, giving Eri an even look and keeping his tone, expression, and everything else even and calm.

“Hello, Eri. My name is Shinsou Hitoshi and I live here just like you do, now.” If he had been this young when the pain was at its worst and he had been taken in like this, he knew how he would have wanted to be greeted.

Emotions were too loud, most times, and they were too much, and too many words said all at once just sounded like lies. He knew that from experience. Add in the fact that he was tall, had a dour appearance, and looked like a caricature of a villain most days? It would be best to get on her level or below it if possible. Let her feel like she had control, even if she knew she didn’t.

It seemed to work, Eri slowly peeking out more and more from behind Shouta before she was tightly gripping her dress and walking a few steps forward. She stared at him, expression blank and tone completely even as she managed a soft, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Honestly, Hitoshi could feel the pride radiating from his – their? – dads. He settled for giving a small, light smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, Eri.” Staying still, Hitoshi thought over his words for a moment. “I’m going to stand up now and go into my own room so you can explore yours more. You can come to my room anytime you need me, though.”

Hitoshi waited until Eri gave a firm nod before he was slowly and carefully standing himself up, making sure to only take steps back before he gave Eri a nod of his own and went to his room. He was waylaid by Hizashi giving him a tight hug, but soon enough he was in his own room with the door cracked as he listened to Eri settling in.

Collapsing on his bed, Hitoshi sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the blank expression and the guarded eyes on a little girl who should have been smiling and laughing and screaming as she ran around a new house to explore. It really was like looking into a mirror, Hitoshi mused to himself. That really only left one thing to do, though, and that was to give everyone their space for the next few weeks.

He wouldn’t outright avoid anyone since his dads would just think he was falling back into old habits, but he would be careful to not make things worse for Eri. The last thing he wanted was to give her a reason to dislike him or, worse, make her transition into a difficult or scared one. So, he would just give her the space she needed to settle in and make sure to do the same for his dads.

After all, Shouta and Hizashi were going to be running around like crazy the next few weeks. Not only were they adopting another child, one who had been raised and abused by villains, but they were taking in a little girl. She would be harder to care for and look after than Hitoshi, who was already fifteen and old enough to look after himself.

So. That was that. He had met Eri, tried to make it so she wouldn’t have any reason to fear him, and he would keep making sure she had no reason to fear him.

Besides, how hard could it be? Hitoshi was a master of hiding in his room and avoiding people. If anything, the next week to weeks would be a relaxing vacation.

⁂

It would have been. It would have been a relaxing vacation if Hitoshi wasn’t stressed out and starting to drive himself crazy because, apparently, he used to be a master of hiding in his room and avoiding people. Now, however, was a bit of a different story and he was hating it.

To start with, he hadn’t realized just how much time he spent out of his bedroom and in the rest of the house. From eating breakfast in the kitchen to lazing about in the living room to hiding out in Shouta’s office to going to Hizashi’s office for homework help, Hitoshi was all over the house. Now, though, he was trying to avoid that.

Since Eri typically ate in the kitchen with Shouta and Hizashi so she could get used to eating meals with others, Hitoshi tried to either arrive late, early, or take his meal up to his room if he was ‘busy.’ Used to he would have just skipped a meal, but he knew if he did that Hizashi would track him down and force feed him — maybe. A lot of his attention was on Eri, these days- Which was good!

So, Hitoshi tried to avoid the kitchen as often as possible, which, okay, easy enough. He could do that. Except then he saw Eri in the living room with Shouta who was explaining cartoons to her, and, alright, he didn’t watch television that often anyways and he had a phone and a computer. He was perfectly alright avoiding the living room while Eri found her balance and Shouta explained cute cartoons with cats in them to her.

Just so he didn’t go stir crazy, though, he still kept up hiding-slash-lazing about in Shouta’s office. At least he did until half a week in when he had seen Eri sitting on a chair next to Shouta’s desk and quietly listening to him speak like Hitoshi typically did when they were both in the office. Which, again, it was good. That meant Eri was starting to open up so all of Hitoshi’s avoiding was working, obviously.

And while, yeah, he was forced – while he conceded – most of the house to Eri, he still had Hizsahi’s office to laze about in and the man to ask for homework help or some of their typical language lessons. At least he did until last night when he had found Eri sitting on Hitoshi’s desk and clumsily moving her hands and fingers as Hizashi started to teach her sign language.

And it was fine. It really was. Eri needed their support more than Hitoshi ever did, and he had been shown enough kindness by them. He didn’t need to be jealous and hoard their attention when Eri needed it far more than he did.

That meant he was trapped in his room for he wasn’t sure how long, but that was fine. He still had school and he could still leave the house and go visit other places and half of Class 1-A kidnapped him every other day to ‘bond’ anyways. Plus, he saw Shouta and Hizashi in the halls at school every day.

Everything was going good, and okay, and then that morning Hitoshi had accidentally entered the kitchen when Eri was in there and she had run. It hadn’t been the childish running of just wanting to go do something else, it had been her fearfully running from him.

Hitoshi, since then collapsed face first on his bed, had made a mental note to tell Midoriya he was a lying liar who was wrong when he next saw him at school. He was mentally drafting all the swears and insults he was going to use when he heard three knocks to his door, five seconds of silence, and then the soft sound of the door opening.

“You know, there are more comfortable ways to sleep.” Yep. Shouta. Alright, Hitoshi just had to handle this carefully because there was a fifty-fifty chance between Shouta prying into what was going on or just letting it drop.

“Jokes on you, I’m not asleep,” Hitoshi said back, words muffled by the pillow his face was crammed into. It didn’t last long before he felt the bed dip and his pillow taken away from him, face smooshing into the bed with a huff. “That was mean.”

“I’m a mean person,” Shouta replied, Hitoshi easily picturing the half-smirk on his face. “Now, do you want to confess or should I pry it out of you?”

Hitoshi managed a laugh, finally rolling onto his side and looking up to see Shouta sitting on the edge of the bed, close enough to touch but far enough away to give him his space. “And how many villains have you told that one to?”

“Depends on if they’re still awake after the first punch,” Shouta shrugged, smiling before he was gently pushing Hitoshi’s hair back, look falling into concern and yep. There it was. “What’s wrong, Hitoshi?”

“You know, I’m having flashbacks to the last time you thought I was having a meltdown or something,” Hitoshi said, giving Shouta a look and pleased when the man admitted defeat by looking away. “And, as far as I can remember, my ‘meltdown’ was because I was trying to surprise you for your birthday.”

Shouta tsked, looking back at him with narrowed eyes that were as threatening as their cats when their claws were stuck in something. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?” No. He wasn’t.

Ready to roll back over and resume his sulking, Hitoshi paused as Shouta spoke softly and seriously, “‘Toshi… what’s going on?”

Right. Hitoshi couldn’t lie to Shouta, so he would just… have to admit to all of his convoluted reasoning about everything that was going on. That was easy. “I…” Okay. He should start with why he was not-avoiding-but-it-looked-like-avoiding Eri. “I’ve just been having a few social problems in school – not bullying, just… something.”

“Oh.” Shouta blinked at him, staring for a long moment before his eyes slightly widened. “Oh. Um, do you… want me to get Hizashi for you?” What? Why would he- Ah. Right. This was punishment for lying.

“No, no, no, it’s not- I mean-” Hitoshi fumbled with his words, and, hey, at least it made his story more believable, he guessed. “I’ve got a handle on it.” Which was true. He did have a handle on what was going on in his life. And he did have… social problems in school – as long as he counted Class 1-A trying to adopt him.

“If you’re sure,” Shouta sighed, ruffling his hair again and giving him one of those soft, supportive smiles. “You know you can come to me with any problem, ‘Toshi. I’ll always be there to listen or help you. Whatever you need.”

And, aha, wow. Hitoshi was not ready for the guilt that came from straight up lying to Shouta like that. He was used to lying to adults; he was so used to lying to adults it was the first thing he often did. Lying to Shouta, though? That… he wasn’t prepared to feel so guilty at that.

Hitoshi watched as Shouta pulled back, a tight feeling winding itself up in his chest before his hand snapped out to grab the man’s sleeve, and, shit. Shouta was already giving him a narrow-eyed look that was equal parts protective and concerned. Thankfully – blessedly – the universe decided to show mercy as Shouta was then distracted by his phone vibrating with the pattern that meant hero work.

It took a moment to let Shouta’s sleeve go, Hitoshi watching as he was given another look before Shouta was answering his phone with a sharp, “Eraserhead.” It was only a few seconds before Shouta was repeating a rather impressive swear before he was tilting the phone away with a soft, “Don’t let Hizashi know I said that one in front of you.”

Hizashi managed a quiet laugh, that tight feeling only getting worse as he watched Shouta stand, speaking a quick, “We’ll be there soon.” before he was hanging up and looking seriously at Hitoshi. “Mic and I both need to go downtown as emergency backup. I don’t know how long we’ll take, but the news should start reporting in the next ten or fifteen minutes from what I picked up.”

“Got it,” Hitoshi nodded, thankful it was a familiar enough routine he at least knew what to do instead of panicking. When Present Mic and-or Eraserhead were called in for battle, Hitoshi usually managed to find the news story and watch until things were resolved.

“Good, because you and I aren’t done talking.” Ugh. Great. Now Shouta was concerned. “You’ll also need to keep an eye on Eri,” he said, Hitoshi feeling his heart almost stop as he followed Shouta out of his bedroom. “She’s napping in her room, right now, but if she wakes up I don’t want her to be alone.”

“Ri- Right. Got it. I can do that,” Hitoshi managed, keeping his expression straight as Shouta shot a sharp look to him. “No worries. She might not even wake up before you get back, but I’ll be here if she does.”

It was a whirlwind of half-shouted words and movement before Hitoshi was waving the two of them off as they quickly left for downtown. Hitoshi was slow in closing the front door, leaning against it, and, right. He just had to watch the house and… Eri. The little girl who was his sister and apparently couldn’t stand being in the same room as him.

Right. Right! He could deal with that. Afterall, Shouta had said that she was taking a nap and, if she was anything like the rest of the family, that meant she was down for a few hours, at the least.

Which meant Hitoshi could handle a few hours until his – their – dads got back. That was the plan, at least. Just like with his last plan, however, it completely failed.

He had been planning to sit in the living room and watch the news to keep an eye on whatever fight Eraserhead and Present Mic had been called into, but instead he had barely sat down before he heard screaming.

His training kicked in before his instincts did, Hitoshi immediately dropping the television remote and instead grabbing his binding cloth from the hall closet and throwing it around his neck. He was sliding into Eri’s room with his senses on full alert, ready to pound whoever had broken in into the ground before he saw the situation for what it really was – and it was so much worse.

Instead of some robber or villain breaking in and trying to hurt Eri, the girl was sitting up in her bed and seemed to be scared and screaming over herself, curled up in bed with the covers tangled around her heavily breathing and crying form as her small hands clutched desperately at where her horn had grown.

The horn itself was starting to glow and spark wildly and, while Hitoshi didn’t know everything about her quirk Rewind, he knew enough to know that what was happening was not good. He also knew enough to know it would have been a great time for Shouta’s quirk, but instead they were left with Rewind and Brainwashing and fuck. So much for trying to make a good impression on Eri.

Making his way over to the bed and crouching down, Hitoshi tried not to shift uncomfortably or even just run away at the pure power pulsating through the air. It felt like pressure was pressing down on him from above and, as much as he wanted to flee to his own room and call their dads for help… Eri was crying. She was scared and looking at him with wide, terrified eyes.

“Eri?” Hitoshi finally tried, careful to keep his voice and tone low and even as he didn’t dare move. “Can you hear me? It’s Shinsou Hitoshi. Do you know where we are?” Instead of an answer or even so much as a shake or nod of the head, Eri only scrunched down more with renewed sobbing as her horn started to spark even more fiercely and- Okay. Alright. He was a hero (in training). He could handle this.

He couldn’t erase her quirk like Shouta could, but he could at least get Eri to stop using her quirk. She would hate him, but that was okay as long as she was soon safe, “Alright, Eri, I… I need you to answer me verbally, okay? It doesn’t matter what the answer is as long as you answer it. Alright?”

It was a tense minute of silence when the pressure in the room seemed to only grow, Hitoshi ready to try something else to try and get a response when Eri muttered a whisper-soft, “Okay.”

The second the word was out of her mouth and Hitoshi felt the open connection between them, he lunged for it, holding on tightly and watching as her eyes became glazed and blank as he took control. As much as he wanted to ramble off apologies and immediately release her, he had to try everything he could to help her – even if she would hate it.

“Calm down,” Hitoshi finally ordered, keeping his words even and calm. “Let go of your quirk and deactivate it as you take even, deep breaths in and out every five seconds.”

Hitoshi watched carefully, Eri’s powers slowly starting to settle as she took deep, even breaths with a still blank face. It was enough to make the guilt in him claw at his insides, but he promised himself that Eri could hate him all that he wanted once he was sure that she was safe.

“Good,” Hitoshi said softly, very carefully moving a hand to rest against her back, gently guiding her body back against the pillows before he was tucking the blanket around her. “Okay, next, I want you to remember that you are in a new home. It’s a nice home in a busy neighborhood filled with other children that are always running around and out playing.” He hadn’t been told everything, but he had been told enough to fill in some blanks.

“There’s always sunlight coming in through the windows and there are two cats that love sleeping in that sunlight. You have your own bedroom full of soft, warm things. Nothing in this house is hard or edged or makes you afraid. This is a house that, every time you enter it, you feel safe and protected; all because of the two people that live there.”

“Think about Shouta and Hizashi,” Hitoshi ordered, trying to keep his voice calm and warm at the same time and not show any of his worry or panic. “They helped you escape and now they want you to stay with them. They want to keep you.” Something in Eri seemed to respond to that, Hitoshi feeling through the connection he had on her that she seemed to calm down quickly. “You know that, too, right? They love you.

“So, remember that you’re in a sunny, warm, safe house with two dads who will do everything to protect you and that love you so very much. Remember that everyone in this house loves you and wants nothing more than for you to feel safe here. That we want nothing more than for you to be safe. Okay?”

It was slow – it was so slow – but Hitoshi finally saw Eri’s horn begin to shrink to its smallest size, Hitoshi near breathless as the pressure in the room started to disappear, everything calming down and jeez. If that’s what it was like having a kid with a crazy quirk, then Hitoshi was pretty sure he never wanted kids.

Finally, though, Eri’s tears trailed to a stop, Hitoshi really hoping that it was from her feeling better and not his mind control just trapping her in her panic. Letting that connection server, Hitoshi was sitting up, worry clawing at his insides, “Eri, I’m so sorry. I know my quirk probably brought back some bad memories, but I was trying to help-”

“Is that true?” Eri’s voice seemed to kill his in an instant, Hitoshi simply staring at her as she looked up at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. He had a feeling she wasn’t talking about him using his quirk on her.

“I…” Okay, he had no idea what she was talking about, he just had to keep calm and stay calm so as to not freak her out like he was freaked out. “Is what true, Eri?”

“If…” Eri trailed off, looking down and away from him before slowly, so slowly, looking back up with eyes full of emotions. “If everyone in this house loves me.”

Hitoshi was pretty used to being speechless the way his life had gone, but he couldn’t say he had ever been speechless as guilt and self-hatred ate at him because… that’s what she thought? Hitoshi had been trying to make her feel safer and instead he had made her think he hated her.

“I… You don’t think I love you like Dad and Pops do?” Hitoshi watched as Eri looked away from him and oh. Oh, he had really fucked up, hadn’t he? “Have you thought that this whole time? Ever since you got here?”

“No! I-!” Eri cut herself off, tears building up in her eyes and it was official. Hitoshi was a monster for making this little girl cry; a little girl who was meant to be his baby sister and needed the help he had needed at that age. “You- When we first met, the way you greeted me made me feel really, really safe. But then… you started avoiding every room I was in, so I thought you didn’t like me.”

Eri looked down at her lap, a few tears slipping own her cheeks as she continued in a softer voice, “I’ve been trying to keep out of your way, but I still made you come all the way into my room and deal with my quirk. I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble.”

Hitoshi let himself move before he could even think it through, scooping Eri and her blanket all into his arms before hugging the little girl tightly, hand settling on the back of her head as he held her close. Eri didn’t fidget or kick or struggle, merely sitting in his arms peacefully as if waiting for him to say something.

After what felt like a lifetime, Hitoshi managed to begin talking, “I haven’t been told everything about where you came from, but I know enough to know that you were controlled for a large part of your life. I wasn’t avoiding you because of your quirk, Eri, I was avoiding you because of mine. When I was your age my quirk was revealed to be Brainwashing. What you just felt? That’s what my quirk does. If I ask a question and get an answer, then I can control someone and tell them to do almost anything.”

Eri was silent for a long moment, finally pulling back to look at him properly, rubbing at her cheek to wipe away a few of her tears. “That sounds like a powerful quirk,” she finally said. “Like mine. It sounds scary at first, but it’s not, and it sounds like you can do a lot of good with it, though, like you did for me- Ah! You’re like Aizawa-san! You can neu- null- um, you can stop quirks and then help people that way.” Eri didn’t give quite a smile, but her eyes said so much. “Shinsou-san… You’re crying.”

Oh. He was. “Sorry,” Hitoshi managed, rubbing at his own cheeks and oh, man. He would happily die for this little girl. “Sorry, Eri, I just- A lot of people don’t think that way. When I was your age and growing up, others were actually scared of me because they thought my quirk could do a lot of harm.” There was a deep, sorrowful understanding in Eri’s eyes that shouldn’t belong there. A little girl shouldn’t understand so much.

“I was called a villain for most of my life,” Hitoshi near whispered, brushing hair out of Eri’s face. “I don’t know what it must have been like for you to go through so much, but I know what it is to suddenly feel like everything is too good to be true. I know what it’s like to suddenly be in a place where you can do the things you want, but you’re too scared because what if…”

“What if it’s actually not allowed,” Eri finished just as quietly, looking at him with wide eyes as something seemed to come to her. “You’re… like me.” Yeah. Hitoshi had a feeling she would have recognized that, too.

“I wasn’t avoiding you to make you feel bad.” Because she needed to understand at least that much. “I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t care. I was trying to give you space so you could adjust at your own pace without any fear and figure out who you really are and who you want to be in this family.”

Eri went quiet, Hitoshi simply holding her in his arms and letting her think over whatever she needed to. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Eri asked a near voiceless, “What if I want you to be my brother like I want Aizawa-san and Hizashi-san to be my parents?”

And, okay. Okay, Hitoshi could never again make fun of Hizashi always crying or being dramatic because Hitoshi had no control when he started crying and hugging Eri close because that was so sweet and this little girl had been hurt so much and had thought he hated her and she still wanted him in her life.

He held her close, half-laughing and half-crying, “I guess it’s a good thing I want you to be my sister, then, isn’t it?” Because he really, really did. It wasn’t just about pleasing Hizashi and Shouta or wanting to have a good relationship with a foster sibling, or anything else. Maybe a little bit was a part of that, but mostly…

Mostly he just wanted to help this scared child who had been through so much and deserved a home and a good family. Hitoshi didn’t want to see her turn out like him, bitter and jaded and scared and angry at the world. He wanted to see her learn how to smile more and more each day. He wanted her to be his sister.

“I’d like that,” Eri said back, voice watery and tearful as she latched onto the binding cloth still around his neck, near burrowing herself inside and okay, that was really, really cute, and, alright.

Hitoshi supposed he wouldn’t use all of his insults on Midoriya when he next went back to school.

⁂

When the door finally opened to show their dads walking in from another successful villain fight, Hitoshi was spread out on the couch and half-asleep, Eri already asleep on his chest, curled up right over where he was pretty sure his heartbeat was and still tangled up in his binding cloth and using it as a blanket and pillow in one. There was also a cat squashing his hair down and another trapping his legs. He was pretty sure he would never be able to leave the couch again.

The only thing that made him move at all was when he saw Hizashi open his mouth to give his usual loud greeting, Hitoshi reacting on pure sleepy instinct and throwing a pillow at the man’s face. The indignant look was great, as was Shouta’s sharp snort of laughter.

“Eri’s sleeping,” Hitoshi explained before Hizashi could complain, watching the both of them look surprised when they saw Eri on his chest quietly sleeping. “How’d the fight go?”

“As usual, they could have done it without us,” Shouta scoffed, kicking his boots off and keeping his voice quiet as he walked forward and knelt down to give Hitoshi a serious look. “Do we still need to talk?” Ah, right. That mess.

Ready to deny, Hitoshi paused. Now that everything was worked out with Eri, or at least starting to get worked out, he probably did need to talk about how he had basically preparing himself to be replaced. It wasn’t quite to the level as some other incidents he had gone through when learning to live with the two of them, but it probably was something he should talk about.

“Not… right this second, but I think we should probably talk soon,” Hitoshi finally said, hiding a smile at the gentle ruffle to his hair.

“And how’s the little princess,” Hizashi cooed, leaning over the back of the couch and running his fingers through Eri’s hair. It was too adorable to watch the little girl scrunch her nose up before blinking her eyes open. “Eri? Did you enjoy your nap?”

Eri was quiet for a moment, leaning into the soft touch cautiously before looking between their dads. “I had a nightmare for a while. My quirk acted up.” Ah, and there was the red alert panic on both their faces. “It’s okay, though. Hitoshi-nii used his quirk to save me and make me feel better. I’m okay, now.”

Hitoshi was ready to explain further about using his quirk before his brain completely shut down because she just- She had just- Eri had just- Hitoshi-nii. “Is that…” Eri looked shy, gently tugging on his binding cloth. “Is that alright if I call you that-”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Hitoshi squeezed his baby sister close and it was official. He was doomed. There was no more winning. He now understood why everyone was charmed by this little girl. “You can call me whatever you want.”

“Hitoshi-nii, huh?” Hizashi was grinning and Shouta was no better and oh, god, he was never going to live a life of peace again, was he?

“Daddy, Papa, I’m… hungry. When is dinner?” Eri barely finished her question before Hizashi was bursting into sobs and yelling something about how it wouldn’t be long, barely making it into the kitchen. Judging by the way Shouta scurried after him, he was just as emotionally broken. Eri, on her part, only looked up to Hitoshi and while her expression was even, her eyes screamed smug. “I don’t think they’ll tease you, now.”

Hitoshi was laughing before he could even stop it, hugging Eri tight and moving them around on the couch so she was safely nestled in his lap and facing the television, “Hey, how about we watch some cute shows until dinner is ready? Your pick since you just saved my life.”

“Okay,” Eri noded, crawling over him to get the remote before settling right back down. “Is it okay that I call them that?”

“Of course.” Hitoshi brushed her hair back, looking down into her eyes with a soft smile. “They’re your parents, after all.”

The small, soft smile was probably the most beautiful thing Hitoshi had ever seen.

#bnha #shinsou hitoshi #eri bnha #bnha eri #boku no hero academia #how it goes #original #my writing #adopted shinsou hitoshi #mha #my hero academia

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nightofthemeteor · 5 years ago

Text

Modern AU/Mythology AU

(Also here on AO3)

They were children when they met. They had to have been children, for if they had met as adults, they would have known too much, and their meeting would have been very different.

It happened on an awful, stormy day in early spring, and it began with Hashirama huddled and miserable in a cave. Even at fourteen, Hashirama knew the mountain as well as he knew his own family – he wouldn’t have ventured out this far into the forest if there had been any chance of a storm like this. And yet, despite the season, there was a blizzard raging outside. It was a tengu wind, Hashirama knew; only a tengu wind could rise so suddenly and sting so badly. He was lucky he’d been able to take shelter in this cave, but now he was trapped without warm clothing or the tools to make a fire. Curled into a ball with his arms around his knees, Hashirama had no choice but to wait out the storm, and eventually shivered himself into a fitful sleep.

When he awoke, the cave was dark, and he was wonderfully, deliciously warm. Hashirama wondered for a moment if he’d frozen to death, and this was the moment before his new reincarnation. But, no – he could still feel the rocky floor of the cave where he’d gone to sleep digging uncomfortably into his legs. He was warm because he was wrapped in something, something soft…something that was moving, gently and rhythmically, as if it were breathing. Hashirama reached out a tentative hand and felt soft feathers beneath his fingertips.

His breath caught in his throat. The tengu – for that was what the creature curled around Hashirama had to be – shifted around him with a whisper of feathers. And then, in the darkness, Hashirama found himself staring into a single, glowing red eye.

Hashirama’s insides had turned to ice, but he still retained enough of his wits to remember to be polite. “Hello, Tengu-sama,” he whispered to the eye.

The eye blinked.

Feeling a little encouraged, Hashirama said, “Thank you for protecting me from your storm.”

This got an affronted shuffling of feathers; Hashirama backtracked. “Not your storm?” Another blink – acknowledgement, Hashirama imagined. “Ah, I see. You’re stuck in here, too.” The tengu didn’t react to that, which Hashirama took to mean he’d guessed right. Without thinking, he ran his fingers through the feathers under his hand and was surprised when the tengu leaned against him, like a cat asking for more scratches. “Well,” he said, “Thank you for keeping me company. At least we can wait out the storm together.”

The eye disappeared; the tengu shifted position again, tucking its head back under its wing, or so Hashirama imagined. Hashirama knew he should take this chance and run – tengu were dangerous and unpredictable, wild spirits of the mountains, and there was no telling what this one might do to him – but the blizzard was still howling outside, and at least in here it was warm. Seeing no better option, Hashirama leaned back against his new, feathery companion, closed his eyes, and drifted back to sleep.

When he woke again, the cave was lit with sunlight, and the tengu was gone.

---

Madara wasn’t exactly sure why he bothered to find the human again. He was already sliding dangerously in the direction of his father’s bad side – that blizzard had been a nasty reprimand, with Madara still too young to control his powers well enough to fight back. Now that his flight feathers had grown in, Madara had found he wasn’t terribly interested in the clan politics he was supposed to be learning. His father’s world was full of restrictions: don’t use any of your powers without permission; don’t question your elders; and, most importantly of all, don’t come into contact with humans. And that, perhaps, was why Madara let himself slide out of the shadows of the trees and into view of the young human.

The boy in front of him tensed, reaching instinctively for an arrow; Madara prepared himself to fight, but the human relaxed and lowered his bow. “Tengu-sama,” he said, and smiled.

Madara looked down at himself in confusion. “How did you know?” He’d appeared in human form – had he made a mistake somewhere? But no: his purple robe was a perfectly normal style for a human, and on his head was definitely spiky black hair, not feathers.

The human boy in front of him shrugged. “I don’t know – you just sort of…feel the same?”

“That’s weird,” Madara informed him.

To Madara’s surprise, the boy sighed deeply. “I knew it,” he said, utterly dejected. “I must really be a freak if even a spirit thinks I’m weird.”

“Wait – that’s not what I – ” Madara stuttered to a halt, realizing that the boy wasn’t distraught at all – he was laughing at him from under those bangs. “Hey, what do you mean ‘even a spirit’?!”

The human raised his head to reveal a smug, aggravating smile. “Are you really my age?” he asked cheerfully. “To think I was so scared of you!”

Madara drew on the shadows around him, forming the shape of massive, ever-shifting wings to tower over his back, and let his black human eyes flash red. “You should be afraid of me!” he hissed.

The human’s eyes widened in awe, but to Madara’s chagrin, he watched this show of power without the least sign of fear. “Wow!” he said to the writhing mass of shadow. “What’s your name? Mine’s Hashirama!”

Madara sighed, content for the moment to at least have impressed the human – Hashirama – and let himself shrink back to his still-unfamiliar human form. “You can call me Madara,” he said.

“It’s nice to meet you again, Madara,” said Hashirama, and dipped his head in a clumsy bow.

“Hmph.” Madara crossed his arms, trying not to show that he was pleased. “So, Hashirama, what are you doing this far into the forest?”

“Looking for mushrooms!” Hashirama replied, with more excitement than this answer really warranted. “I know I saw some good ones around here the other day.”

“You’re lucky you’re with a tengu, then. I know this forest better than any human.”

“Oh, is that so!”

As the two of them left to walk together through the forest, neither of them noticed the tiny seedlings that sprung to life in Hashirama’s footsteps.

---

When Hashirama was nineteen, a beautiful young woman with fiery red hair came to his town.

“She’s definitely interested in you,” he was informed by his little brother, Tobirama, with a healthy amount of disdain.

“Can you at least pretend to stay out of my business?” Hashirama snapped back, uncharacteristically annoyed. If he was honest with himself, he had mixed feelings about Tobirama’s analysis. If anyone had asked him half a year ago if he would like a gorgeous woman to mysteriously arrive out of nowhere and fall in love with him, he would have offered his right hand to make it happen – but although Hashirama had always been a bit of a romantic, lately his thoughts on that score had turned in a…different direction.

But that was only half of the problem. Though nobody else had seemed to notice, Hashirama had realized right away that there was something different about the woman calling herself Mito.

“You’re not entirely human, are you?” he asked her, the next time they were alone together. Hashirama had always been in favour of the direct approach.

She stopped in the action of brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, and carefully withdrew her hand, looking at him with sharp, bright eyes. “You’re perceptive,” she said. “I should have anticipated that.”

“I have some experience with shapeshifters,” Hashirama told her, a little ruefully. “But I don’t think I’ve met one like you…?” He made the end of his statement into a question, hoping she would answer.

“Can’t you guess?” she asked playfully. At Hashirama’s flat look, she said, “Come on. A girl can’t give up all her secrets that easily.”

“Are you actually like this?” Hashirama asked. “Or are you trying to seduce me?”

“Er…” for the first time, Mito actually looked a little awkward. “I’ll be honest: I was trying to seduce you.”

“Don’t worry; I’ve heard the stories. Humans are kind of hard to interact with unless you’re giving them something they want, right? I don’t take it personally.”

Mito laughed at that, the light catching in her bright red hair as she did. “You’re a very strange human, Hashirama!”

“I’ve heard that before,” Hashirama replied with amusement. More seriously, he added, “But I don’t understand why you would choose me to seduce. What do you want from me?”

“Like I said, Hashirama: I have to keep my secrets.” Mito looked at him appraisingly, her head cocked to one side. “Let’s just say you have some interesting qualities – for a human.”

“Fine – you don’t have to tell me. But can you drop the whole – ?” Hashirama waved his hands vaguely in her direction, too uncomfortable to actually articulate what he meant; she smirked at him in response. “Whatever you want, you can just ask me, alright? I mean – I’d like to be friends.”

“Alright,” she said, sounding surprised. “Friends it is.”

---

“Kitsune,” Madara spat.

The fox sat back on her haunches and began to unconcernedly wash one of her paws. “Tengu-san,” she replied.

Madara, roosted in the branches above her, hunched his wings threateningly. He was the power in the forests around here, and she could do with a reminder of that. “Stay away from the human boy, Kitsune. He’s mine – understand?”

“Relax, Tengu-san. He already called me on the trick.” She dipped her head at him in sarcastic deference. “He’s all yours for the seducing.”

Madara wasn’t buying it. “What do you want with him?”

The fox cocked her head to one side quizzically. “The same thing you want, I assume? He may be a human, but you must know he has the power of the forest inside him.”

He’d guessed it years ago, of course, but hearing another magical being acknowledge it like that made Madara’s stomach drop. “You feel drawn to him, don’t you?”

“Others will be drawn to him as well, as his power grows stronger. You did well to get in with him early, Tengu-san. Better act fast to lock him down.”

“Kitsune,” Madara called, as she turned to leave. His stomach was in knots now; asking her this would be showing unforgivable weakness, but he might never have another chance to have his suspicions confirmed. “What does it feel like when you’re with him?” he asked. “You said the power of the forest draws you to him. Does it make you feel breathless when he looks at you? Does it…” he swallowed hard. “Does it give you a hollow feeling when you say goodbye to him?”

The fox looked at him in silent surprise for a moment, and then barked out a laugh. “No, Tengu-san, it does not!” she said, laughter in her voice. “I feel a pull towards him, yes, but my heart is still my own. I believe you are in love with him.”

“Oh,” said Madara gruffly. “Er, thanks.”

When the kitsune had gone, he considered his course of action. In any other circumstance, Madara would have done his best to deny his feelings about Hashirama – he’d been managing that successfully for years now, and could probably have sustained it for quite some time. But this was different; now he had competition, and Madara’s nature couldn’t ignore that.

So what if the kitsune was trying to seduce his human? Madara could perform a seduction as well, and he had the advantage of knowledge, thanks to years of friendship with Hashirama. He could win this battle – all it would take was some careful planning and an artful execution.

---

“Where did you find this?” Hashirama exclaimed in delight.

Madara shrugged nonchalantly, his blue-black mane of hair shifting over his shoulders, but Hashirama could tell he was pleased with Hashirama’s reaction. “I told you: I know this forest better than anyone.”

By now, Hashirama knew this wasn’t quite true: he knew the mountain at least as well as his tengu friend, sometimes even better. Even so, Hashirama would be able to equal Madara’s skill at finding far-off treasures of the forest, for the simple reason that Madara could fly. Hashirama cradled the branch Madara had brought him in his hands, admiring the small white flowers with their elegant, delicate petals. “I’ll bet I can graft his onto one of my trees,” he said, already planning how he would do it.

“So…you like it?” Madara asked, a strange edge in his voice.

Hashirama beamed at him. “Of course I do! Thank you, Madara!”

His friend turned a very interesting shade of pink. “Great! Um…good, that’s good.”

Hashirama waited patiently for a further explanation – an account of how he’d stumbled across a wild apricot tree, maybe, or something that had prompted this gift – but when none was forthcoming, he prompted gently, “I didn’t know you were so interested in plants.”

“I am, uh, interested – that is to say, I was thinking…uh…” To Hashirama’s fascination, the tengu was flushing even further. Was this some strange consequence of his shapeshifting? Now a little concerned, Hashirama leaned forwards to get a better look.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Maybe he was overheating? Hashirama laid a hand against Madara’s forehead to check.

“Hgk,” said Madara.

“Hmm, you do feel a little warm,” Hashirama told him. “If you were human, I’d tell you to get some rest, but what about a spirit like you? I have to admit I don’t really know anything about – ”

And then he shut up, because Madara was kissing him. Later, Hashirama would remember how Madara’s hands on his shoulders were trembling a little, and how Madara’s hair felt almost exactly like his feathers had under Hashirama’s fingertips all those years ago. But in the moment, all he could think was why haven’t I done this before?

After just a brief moment, Madara pulled back, his eyes wide and startled. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that!” he blurted.

Hashirama blinked at him. “What?” was all he could manage to say.

“I’m sorry! I had it all planned out, and then I just…went and…”

He looked so distressed; Hashirama felt the only reasonable response was to reassure him by leaning forwards and kissing him again.

When they parted, Hashirama smiled at him, suddenly feeling shy. “I’m glad you did,” he said.

Madara looked about as thunderstruck as Hashirama felt, but at these words, a slow grin spread across his face. “You mean…you wanted me to do that?”

“Madara, I’ve wanted that for ages!”

“But,” Madara objected, “What about Mito?”

“Mito? Oh! I’m not interested in her like that.”

“Good,” said Madara huffily, “You know she’s only trying to seduce you for your powers, right?”

Up until now, Hashirama had been just barely staying afloat in the rapids of this conversation, but this last question threw him completely. Confused, he pulled a little away from Madara and repeated, “Powers?”

“Yes, the power of the forest! That…you…” Madara trailed off, seeing the expression on Hashirama’s face. “You…didn’t know?”

“No,” Hashirama whispered. He’d been about to deny the possibility that there was anything supernatural about him – he was an ordinary human, had been all his life – but the words evaporated on his tongue. He wasn’t really an ordinary human at all, was he? Sure, his life was ordinary enough, in general: he foraged and hunted in the forest; he tended his garden and grew fruit trees; he did his best to live in peace with the spirits of the mountain. He was just a bit unusually good at finding what he was looking for, at predicting the changing weather and coaxing things to grow. If that talent really did have a magical explanation, then the one truly unusual thing about his life suddenly made a lot of sense: his inexplicable friendship with a tengu.

“Is that why you showed yourself to me?” Hashirama asked, the thick certainty of it beginning to clog his throat. Why else would a tengu, a spirit born from a falling star, show any interest in a human like him?

“No!” Madara protested, vehement at first – but then he paused, considering. “Well – maybe at first, but I didn’t even know about your magic back then. And it has nothing to do with the way I feel about you now!”

These words were meant to reassure him, but instead, an even more horrible thought took root in Hashirama’s mind. If Hashirama had somehow influenced Madara before they’d even met, without either of them realizing it…was it possible he’d made Madara kiss him?

“I think you should go,” he said. Anger at Madara for keeping this secret from him was mixing with guilt at the thought of what he might have unwittingly done to his best friend, making him feel sick to his stomach.

“Hashirama – !”

“Go!” Hashirama shouted.

Madara disappeared in a burst of feathers, leaving Hashirama alone.

---

The wind was howling as fiercely as it had the day they had met, but this time, instead of snow, rain was falling in a deluge that soaked through Madara’s feathers in seconds. In his turmoil, he’d settled on neither bird nor human form, but something in between – he was walking on human legs, but catching the wind of the storm in feathered wings sprouting from his back, and his hands, when he looked at them, had birdlike talons on the end of each finger. He glared furiously at a tree in front of him; a bolt of lighting flashed, and the tree exploded, splinters of wood flying past him in the storm. Madara felt, for a moment, just the tiniest bit of satisfaction before fury and anguish overtook him once again.

Why had he let slip the truth about Hashirama’s powers? No – why hadn’t he told his friend about them sooner? Everything had been going perfectly – not exactly the way Madara had planned, but still, he’d kissed Hashirama! And Hashirama had said he was glad Madara had done it, and had kissed him back! How had things gone so wrong, so quickly? It was all his fault – Hashirama thought he’d lied to him; thought he was using him! Alright, Madara hadn’t told him about his abilities, but it wasn’t like he was trying to win him over just to take advantage of him; not like that kitsune. It wasn’t fair!

As if summoned by Madara’s angry thoughts, a voice reached his ears over the screaming of the wind: “You seem like you’re in quite the state.”

“Kitsune!” Madara bellowed, more than happy to direct his rage at a more tangible target. There was the fox, sitting placidly in a tree despite the fury of the storm around her. “This is your fault! You told me he’d called you on your trick!”

“I didn’t say he knew why I was trying to trick him. I’m afraid this is entirely your fault, Tengu-san. His death will be your fault as well, if you keep wandering around here blowing up trees.”

Madara blinked water from his eyes, fear momentarily taking the place of rage. “What do you mean, his death?”

“The boy doesn’t know the strength of his own powers – he doesn’t even know he’s causing this storm,” said Mito, with pity in her voice. “He’s out wandering around, looking for you on the mountain. I’m afraid – well, you already know what rain like this means.”

Horror seized Madara by the throat. Hashirama knew this mountain better than anyone, better even than him; he knew the danger of flash floods. But if he was really out in the forest looking for Madara – if he was beside himself enough to cause a storm like this, and not even realize it –

“Where is he?” Madara howled.

“Fly northeast,” said the fox, “And hurry.”

Madara launched himself into the air, not bothering to alter his form, knowing his own magic would carry him despite the winds. He fought his way through the storm, trying to feel the familiar tug of the power inside Hashirama calling to the power inside him – but now that he was looking for it, the feel of Hashirama’s magic was everywhere, seething around him. His friend was the one causing the storm, just as Mito had said. Just as Madara was beginning to despair of finding him amidst the frothing treetops, he spotted a familiar white and green robe in a clearing below and dove headfirst towards it.

He crashed into Hashirama at full force, sending both of them sprawling on the ground. Madara, clinging tight to his friend, somehow ended up with Hashirama beneath him, rain falling onto Hashirama’s face; Madara hunched his wings to shield both of them from the storm.

“Wow,” Hashirama breathed. “Look at you. I – I think you have fangs. Why do you have fangs?”

“Why are you out wandering around putting yourself in danger?” Madara shot back.

Hashirama put a hand up to Madara’s face. At his touch, Madara realized he had little feathers sprouting from the skin there as well. “I was looking for you! Mito said you were in danger from the storm I caused.”

“Mito said – she told me you were in danger!”

They stared at each other for a moment, Madara feeling the rain against his wings slow from a deluge to a trickle, until Hashirama suddenly burst out laughing. “I should’ve known,” sighed Madara, over Hashirama’s giggles. “Kitsune are born to play tricks.”

“Madara,” Hashirama said, growing serious again. “She also explained about my powers. I…thought I might have accidentally used them to trick you into liking me, but Mito called me an idiot and told me I don’t have that kind of ability. I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Madara said earnestly. “I really thought you knew.”

“I guess I really am an idiot.”

“I guess so,” said Madara, and leaned down to kiss him. Because of this, neither of them noticed the sun emerge from behind the layers of cloud, or heard the bark of a fox’s laugh from the forest.

There is more to this story, of course, for such an unusual pair as them could hardly manage to lead an ordinary existence. But all the legends and stories they would later come to inhabit began like this: chance and a little bit of trickery, and spirit and human together in the stormy woods.

#I know tengu!Madara is a classic but I always wanted to do my own take on it #this is my personal favourite of the prompts I've done #hashimada happenings 2020 #hashimada #naruto #my writing

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