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pies-writes-and-more · 4 years ago

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the first time saying I love you

Warnings: nothing! Maybe some swearing but all fluff!

Characters: Daichi Sawamura, Bokuto Kotaro, and Ushijima Wakatoshi all with a Fem!Reader

A/N: I know I have some requests and other WIPs I should be working on but I was having a bit of trouble finding some inspo so I thought maybe this would help haha. Hope you enjoy! I might make more parts with other characters :)

p. 2

Daichi Sawamura Who says it first: You

“You’re going to do great! I love you! Good luck!” With those words, you ran out of the gym and made your way up to the stands, perching yourself over the edge with the rest of the Karasuno fans. You glanced down at the court to make sure you had a good view, trying to give a smile to your boyfriend.

It was odd though, Daichi hadn’t moved. It was like he was frozen in the spot you left him. His body seemed stiff and his feet were glued to the floor.

The Karasuno team all looked up at you with wide eyes, even Kiyoka staring up at you in surprise, most of their jaws open. You tilted your head in confusion - did something happen while you came up to the seats? Was it something you said-

Oh.

Daichi turned and looked up at you with wide eyes. His lips parted but there wasn’t a sound coming out. What was that look in his eyes? Was it… panic? Annoyance? Were you not supposed to say that?

You could feel your insecurities rising up in you - how stupid were you? The two of you had only been going out for a few months now! How could you say something so carelessly?

But it hadn’t felt careless. In fact it almost felt… effortless. You did love him. You’d known this for a while now, even if you had avoided voicing it. Ever since he met your parents and was the sweetest guest ever - they loved him. You loved him. And now those words were in the air for him to decide what to do with.

“Y-You love me?” He managed to get out after a while. You wanted nothing more than to sink back into a chair and hide. This wasn’t the time. This was an official match. Daichi had to focus, how was he supposed to focus if he was going to break up with you right now- “I love you too!” He declared loudly, a smile growing from his lips to his eyes.

Your eyes widened and blinked at him, feeling the genuineness of his words. “I love you, Y/N!” He repeated, giving a firm nod. “And we’ll win this match for you! Promise!” He assured you, Sugawara and Asahi coming up behind him and clapping him on his shoulders, both of them sending you a thumbs up.

“We love you too, Y/N!” Sugawara grinned and Daichi smacked his head playfully. “What! She’s nice to Asahi when we’re not, and she bakes me food,” Sugawara smirked sending you another cheeky grin that makes you laugh. Asahi just chuckled, but nodded in agreement. The four of you had gotten close even before Daichi and you had started going out and their bond was something you always loved seeing in action.

“Shut up,” Daichi grumbled to his friend but shot another look at you, as if memorizing this moment before going out and getting ready for the game. He had never broken a promise to you, and he wasn’t going to start with this one.

Bokuto Kotaro Who says it first: Him

“Are those for me?” Bokuto gaped as you walked into the gym, his jaw practically on the floor seeing the container of sweets in your hands.

“Well they’re for everyone really,” you laughed, admiring the sweet smile on your boyfriend’s face, “but you can have the first pick just cause you’re cute.”

Bokuto was drooling already - he loved it when you made him any kind of food. He grabbed the container from you, peppering your face with kisses as he attempted to get it open.

“Akaashi! Look! Y/N baked us some treats!” Bokuto called, waving his best friend over. “It’s no wonder I love you, you always make the best food!” He grinned over at you, shoving the first sweet he could grab into his mouth.

He hadn’t even swallowed before noticing the look on your face, eyes wide like you were a deer in headlights, “Sumfin’ wron’?” He asked you through brownie crumbs. He turned to Akaashi who had slowed down making his way over upon hearing his friend’s words, but he only offered a raised eyebrow in return. “What?” Bokuto asked confused.

“Bokuto, you idiot,” Akaashi shook his head in disappointment. “I don’t think that’s how you’re meant to say that kind of stuff. Isn’t it supposed to be more... private?”

Bokuto frowned a little, thinking back to his last words, “That she makes good food? But it’s true-” And there it was. Bokuto’s whole body froze in realization, turning to you with eyes as wide as an owl. “Y/N-” he started nervously.

“It’s okay!” You offered a grin, rubbing the back of your head nervously, “You can take it back if you want to! I’ll pretend like I didn’t hear it!”

Akaashi’s fingers slipped the container out of Bokuto’s hands quickly, sneaking away to give you guys some privacy while also trying to get the rest of the team some food before Bokuto ate it all.

“Take it back?” Bokuto thought it over for a moment before shaking his head, “Would you want me to take it back?”

You shifted nervously, “I mean I wouldn’t ever want you to say something you didn’t mean.”

Bokuto laughed, a sound that surprised you but also put your nerves at ease, “Why wouldn’t I mean it?” He grinned at you, hands on his hips. “I’ve loved you since we met, Y/N. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that I’d want to be with you forever.” He beamed proudly, smiling down at you. That smile froze for a moment, his eyes widening again, “Unless… you don’t feel the same…” Somehow it seemed like his hair drooped and you could see the signs of sad!Bokuto coming on.

“Of course I feel the same,” you insisted quickly, your face feeling hot. “I… I just didn’t think we’d have this moment in front of your teammates,” you whispered playfully, laughing a little.

Bokuto glanced at his team who were eagerly eating the snacks and watching the show in front of them: starring you two.

“Oi! Go eat somewhere else! I’ve got to finish declaring my love to the most wonderful human in the world!” Bokuto ordered before turning back to you with a smile while Akaashi shoved the rest of the team out the door (much to their protest). “I’m sorry for... not making it more intimate.” He apologized with a light chuckle, “I’ll make it up to you though!”

You shook your head with a smile, reaching up and pressing a kiss to his nose, “As long as you mean it, I don’t care where you say it.”

Bokuto smiled and scooped you up into a huge hug, pressing his lips to your ear before murmuring, “I love you, Y/N. I love you. I love you. I love you,” he chated softly, “I’ll love you forever, every single day of my life.”

Ushijima Wakatoshi Who says it first: Him

Ushijima never really cared for interviews but he knew that his team being as good as they were warranted some media attention. But what he hated most about it was their constant need to know everything about him.

“What’s your favourite food? What a line that makes your team really inspired? What kind of workout routine do you follow? What’re your plans for after this tournament?”

Most of the time he would grunt a short answer or excuse himself and let someone else answer, but this time around, it didn’t seem like Tendō was going to be able to save him.

“Who was that girl you were talking to before the game? Is that your girlfriend? What’s it like for her knowing her boyfriend is being watched as a top player in all of Japan?”

Ushijima wondered why they didn’t ask you that question - what was he supposed to know about how you thought about it? At that thought, Ushijima decided not to run away from this interview. He didn’t want you to feel forced into explaining your feelings and knew that he had grown accustomed to all the questions and reporters - you might not have.

“She is my girlfriend, yes.” Ushijima stated flatly, his eyes subconsciously glancing in your direction. Tendō was saying something about the other team and making you laugh with this snarky and playful songs. A gentleness grew in Ushijima’s eyes, just watching you. It was subtle but later when you watched the recorded interview online, you’d be able to catch it. Your heart would flutter a little, wondering if he was really looking at you at the time. “I don’t want to speak for her feelings, but she’s always very proud of the team and our performance.”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Almost 2 years now.”

“Must be young love then,” the reporter had grinned, nodding to themselves in satisfaction.

There were a few more questions but Ushijima’s mind had practically left the interview already. He thought about what the reporter said, calling it young love. He had heard his mother describe her feelings towards his father like that. It had been young love.

But was that how young love ended? Was it always a crash and burn that ended in his mom’s quiet cries when she thought he couldn’t hear?

Ushijima’s mind filled with worry, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. There was a pit of nerves that sat in his chest, refusing to move. What was there to be done to stop the crash of a young love?

You came over as he hydrated himself off to the side, the reporters finally leaving him alone, “They really want to know everything about you huh?” You laughed, smiling up at him and giving his arm a quick squeeze. “You should take some time to stretch out.”

Ushijima nodded but stood there for a moment longer, looking down at you, “I love you, Y/N.”

It was blunt but the look in his eyes said everything else. You stared at him in surprise. 2 years it had been and those words hadn’t left his lips before. It hadn’t really worried you - Ushijima was extremely loyal and even if you were worried, he was usually always busy with volleyball so it wasn’t like there was even time for him to find someone else. You often thought it was because of how things went with his parents that he took things slow… but why now?

“Do you not feel the same?” He asked after a moment, a small crease in his forehead.

You quickly shook your head, grinning up at him, “Of course I do! I just… I didn’t expect you to say it.”

Ushijima’s forehead creased further - had he not said it before? Didn’t she know?

Maybe this was what Tendō had talked about before. You’re a real quiet dude, Ushijima. I wonder if Y/N tries to figure out what’s going on in that head of yours like the rest of us. But you know, relationships have to have some sort of communication… you do tell her things don’t you?

At the time, Ushijima had thought Tendō was talking about normal things. Of course he told you about how volleyball was going, how he was struggling to keep his mind at school and not on the court, what kind of food he was craving, things like that. But… could Tendō have been talking about feelings?

“It’s okay,” you quickly interjected, giving him a smile, “I didn’t expect you to say it sooner or anything. The thing I love about you is that you always say what you mean, so I figured you just weren’t ready yet.”

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Y/N,” Ushijima commented softly, reaching his hand up and gently caressing your cheek. “I’m sorry I never said it. But I’ve always felt it.”

You could feel your face go hot in his hand, moving into it just a little more, “I’ve always loved you too, Ushijima,” you whispered to him gently. A small smile tugged at his lips and he pressed a kiss to your forehead before taking your advice and starting to stretch out his limbs.

After that, he started saying it a little more often. Communication seemed to be important to a relationship, this he understood. So if that’s what was needed, he would do it. This young love wouldn’t crash, he’d make sure of it.

** ** ** ** **

Haikyuu Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added :))

@thisnoodlewritesao3 @scphiredrafts @aurumk @devilkittymusic @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @lucyheartfilias-wife @darkvadeeer

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sunshinee0-0 · 3 years ago

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Say, “I love you” out of the blue. With Bangchan, Johnny and Han if that’s okay :). This event is so cute and I’m really excited to see what you write 💜

Saying “I love you” out of the blue.

♡Parings♡ Bangchan x reader, Johnny x reader, Han x reader

♡Warnings♡ johnny being a tease, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes.

A/n: Thank you for requesting! For Johnnies i switched it up and made him say it instead you. Hopefully you don't mind, also some of them may be shorter then others. I made johnny longer but i couldn't help it 😩

Back to the tiktok event

♡Bangchan♡

You've been switch between tiktok, twitter, and instagram for a few hours now as you wait for chan to finish up on his work, looking up you watch chans fingers type away on his keyboard, they occasionally move to his mouse, circling a bit before going back to his keyboard. Shutting off your phone, you toss it to the spot next to you and sigh to your self. You try and think on what to do, when your head goes back to the tiktok you've seen a few hours back. Biting your lip, you look back at chan who seems peaceful as he works. "I love you." You watch as his fingers freeze over his keyboard and he turns around to face you. Chuckling a bit, he quietly says it back and opens his arms for you to snuggle into.

♡Johnny♡

The tv plays some kind of movie that you weren't even interested in at the moment. Looking at johnny, you watch at how focused he is on the movie, the tv light illuminating off his face making him look even more god like. He turns his head to look at you and you quickly turn your gaze back to the movie. You can feel his gaze on you, no doubt that there's a smirk on his face. Signing to yourself, you try to a least get interested in the movie but you can't when johnny keep staring at you and its making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Picking at your jeans you whisper a quiet, "Stop it." You hear his laugh before he responds "what?" You look up and glare at him, "You know what your doing!", "What am i doing?", huffing you point your finger at him. "You keep staring at me!", "You did it first!!" Blushing you drop your hand and look down, "just watch the stupid movie..." You hear a chuckle an okay. Sighing in relief that he can no longer look at your ridiculously red face, you don't pay attention at how close he has become and when you feel his breath down your neck, it's then that you realize your closeness. Your eyes go wide and your hands tighten around the edge of your hoodie as you hold in your breath. "I'm going to go refill the popcorn." And with that hes gone, you let go of the breath you've been holding and Go up to cup your cheeks. You can feel the heat radiating off them from how red they are. You continue to space out and the beeping of the microwave naps you out of your trance, hearing johnny pour the popcorn into a bowl. There's some silence and then Johnny's foot steps walking back to the couch. You hear him set the bowl down on the coffee table, he bends down to your hight and cups your cheeks in one of his hands, forcing you to look up at him. "I love you~" You stare back at him with wide eyes, he chuckle and kisses you parted lips. "Little cutie"

♡Han♡

You laughed at something Jisung had said, turning to look at him, you notice that his eyes hold so much adoration for you and your heart cant help but skip a beat even though this isn't the first time he has looked at you like this. Currently the two of you where washing dishes while jisung talks about his day. Jisung puts the last dish into the dish washer as your wip your hands on the hand towel you guys had in the kitchen. Jisung starts the dish washer and once he hits play, you hand his the hand towel you where just using. "And Felix had made another batch of his amazing cookies, have you tried them yet?" Shaking your head, you wip down your guys counter, "well you should! Their the best cookies i have ever had! I'm sure you'll like them!" You laugh and go up to pinch his cheeks, "your so cute, you know that, yeah?" A blush spreads across Jisung face as he waves off your hands, "No, I think your much cuter." Giggling you go up on your tippy toes and kiss both his cheeks and then his lips. "I love you, Han Jisung." His cheeks turn a darker shade of red, "I love you too."

#skz x reader #skz x y/n #nct x reader #nct x y/n #johnny suh x reader #johnny x reader #johnny x y/n #skz x you #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #han x reader #bangchan x reader #bangchan x y/n #stray kids x reader #skz #stray kids

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jackrrabbit · 4 years ago

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🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

#haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kuroo x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tendou satori x reader #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu imagines

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aellynera · 4 years ago

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Word of Mouth (Santiago Garcia x Reader)

WORD OF MOUTH

(This has been sitting in my WIPs for-ev-errrrr and I finally got in the mood to finish it, since I haven’t written Santi in a while and I missed him. It’s nothing too involved, just a slice-of-life kind of deal, but I do like the way it turned out. Comments, likes, and reblogs always appreciated!)

I think this one came out as GN!Reader (I’ve read over it a few times but if I’m wrong please let me know.)

Word Count: 2340

Summary: It’s not that Santiago is mad about it, exactly; it’s more that he doesn’t like the way it happened.

Warnings: Some cursing. Some angst. Some fluff. Argument. Two people being stubborn. As always possible lack of proofreading.

Santiago comes off duty and returns to your on-base housing, and he stays quiet for far too long. Usually he greets you with a kiss, or at least a hello, but this time he doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t say a word as he goes into the bedroom, peels off his fatigues, and changes into a plain black t-shirt and plain khaki cargo pants.

He doesn’t say a single word.

“Um, hello to you too,” you call out, getting up to follow him. “How was your day?”

He just shrugs and shakes his head slightly. You get the same response when you ask him if anything interesting happened today, how training went, or if he’s hungry.

You haven’t seen him for most of the day, different assignments and different meetings keeping you apart while on duty, but you just know. From his silence and the way he’s acting, you just know. You’ve been trying to find the right way to bring it up, the right time to mention it, and clearly, that time is going to be now whether you like it or not.

He’s found out.

Even when different assignments keep you apart, you do work on the same base and everyone knows you’re together, even if you never officially said anything. It’s really no one’s business but it’s not really a secret, and you live together, so people just assume. And anything work-related was never unknown for long. Word has gotten back to Santiago, and from the looks of it, it has also gotten to him.

The fact that you can’t actually read his expression is what concerns you the most.

You sit down on the side of the bed and sigh again. “Frankie told you.”

Someone who had been in that early morning meeting with you, a particular someone Santiago identified as a best friend, certainty couldn’t keep it to himself. You make a mental note to have a very, very strict conversation with one Francisco “Catfish” Morales the next time you see him.

Santiago considers calling Frankie, so he can repeat exactly what he told Santiago this afternoon, after you’d already gone back home for the day. Instead he finally decides to answer you, his voice flat and dangerous.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“It’s my job,” you reply evenly.

“It’s your job if you get assigned to it,” he runs a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s not your job if you volunteer for it. That’s a choice.”

You furrow your brow at him. “Semantics.”

“Selection,” he responds, voice clipped.

You rest your head on your fingertips, four on your forehead and thumb on your cheekbone. “I’m the best person for this mission. and.. it’s not like it’s never come up before. We’ve had this conversation, Santi, we’ve talked about this exact scenario, and you even said that no one was more…”

Santiago raises an eyebrow. “Hypothetical and actual are not the same thing.”

“So, hypothetically, I’m not actually qualified to do this?”

“Actually, you should let someone else be the flag-waver this time.”

“The flag-waver?”

“What, now this hypothetically has nothing to do with being a goddamn hero?”

Your head snaps up and your eyes narrow at him. He glares in return.

“Actually,” you start, but Santiago’s short, humorless laugh cuts you off.

This time, your words drag through the tension like dull razors through styrofoam. “Actually,” you repeat, “this has zero to do with being a fucking hero and everything to do with the fact that no one else could get this done the right way and it is my goddamn duty to do what I signed up for.”

“There is no right way that this isn’t going to be an absolute shitshow.” The venom in his voice is like ice in your veins.

“Thank you for having so much faith in me and my abilities, Santiago.”

Silence falls on the room for a few long minutes as you both fight to check your emotions. You understand he’s angry - and maybe scared, although he’ll never admit it - and he knows you’re absolutely right on all accounts - although he is not ready to admit it.

You break the silence, voice tuned down and level. “Look, I wanted to tell you myself, but I didn’t see you all day. I didn’t want you to find out like this. Frankie shouldn’t have gotten involved. But I am going on this mission. I...I don’t want you to be mad about it.”

He looks at you for a moment, and this time you can read his expression, but it almost makes it worse. It’s a combination of worry, sadness, understanding, and yes, traces of anger. It’s not a look that suits him.

You shift in your spot on the edge of the mattress.

“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed,” he says softly, then turns and walks from the room.

Oh. Shit.

***

The rest of the evening passes in a thick, uncomfortable silence. It’s been hours since your confrontation in the bedroom, and the fullness of night has fallen without a single other word being spoken between you.

You spend the night in bed alone, and Santiago makes himself mostly uncomfortable on the couch.

Morning breaks and you pull yourself from the confines of the comforter. Not that you had been sleeping very well anyway. It was warm under the covers, temperature wise, but it somehow felt so cold, and you haven't slept well. Your mind refused to calm down.

You shower and dress, going through your morning routine almost on autopilot. As you wash your face and glance into the mirror, one side of your mouth pulls up into a sad smirk as you recall Santiago’s last words from the night before.

Not mad, disappointed.

Your parents used to say that, when you’d done something against the rules, potentially stupid, and possibly morally questionable. It always seemed to hurt more than actually having them be mad at you, and you wince as you realize adulthood has done nothing to change that feeling.

You and Santiago have your fair share of arguments. Usually they’re not serious, even kind of playful. You both like to talk and you both like to be right, so a little verbal battle isn’t uncommon. But you’re still running the previous night’s...it wasn’t a conversation, but was it really a fight? Was it even an argument? No category really seems to fit, and this one just feels different.

You go downstairs and expect to find Santi on the couch, it’s still early, but as soon as you hit the bottom of the steps, the smell of freshly brewed coffee assaults your nose.

He hands you a mug full of the dark brown liquid as you enter the kitchen. You take it with a nod of thanks and he nods back. But he still doesn’t say a word.

It’s a good sign though. At least, you hope it is, anyway.

You sip from your mug as he turns back to the stove, pushing some stuff around in a frying pan. It smells like bacon and potatoes and your stomach grumbles in protest, and you’re not sure but you think you can see the corners of Santi’s mouth turn up just a little.

Also a good sign. Maybe.

You sit down at your usual spot at the table and play with the handle on the mug. You offer him a singular glance and then stare back into your drink. Clearly he’s not going to be the one to talk first. You sigh.

This is not the first time he’s done this. Santiago is a good man, the best you know, and he’s honorable and decent and so fucking kind, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned since living with him, it’s he’s damn stubborn and can be a petulant brat when he wants to. And in typical macho hero Santiago Garcia style, he will not be the first one to cave after an argument, especially when he thinks he’s right.

You’ll give him shit for it later, when all the animosity has worn off, but for now, you’re going to have to cut the tension. You’ve never been good with silence and it’s only been one night and now this brief bit of morning and it’s starting to get to you.

And okay, maybe you’re not always the best at communicating with him, either. So you’ll be the first to break, this time.

You sigh again. “Santi…”

He turns his head slightly, away from his work at the stove, and glances at you. An eyebrow goes up.

“Are we going to talk about this? For real?” you ask.

He shrugs and turns back to the contents of the pan.

A frustrated growl erupts from your chest as you push your chair back and take the three steps over to the stove. You grab the handle and push the pan off the heat, snapping the burner off as you do, and then whirl and stare at Santi. He narrows his eyes and takes a step back, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter by the sink.

“Please say something to me,” you bite out. God, he’s so frustrating sometimes. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first, but you cannot be upset with me for doing my goddamn job. For doing what I signed up to do. Just...fucking talk to me. Please.”

This time it’s Santi who sighs, and he runs a hand through his hair and massages a spot on the back of his neck. “I told you, I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” you nod, “but you really also can’t be disappointed.”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t just be...wait, what?”

“I said,” he says, uncrossing his arms slowly and reaching for one of your hands, “I’m not.”

You just blink at him and bite your bottom lip.

“I just...I don’t like the thought of you being out there without me.” Your mouth opens to retort but he holds up a hand to stop you, and you close it again and he continues. “I know you can do this, I know you’re totally capable and you can handle yourself, you could probably kick my ass on any given day in sparring, but...I just…” his voice trails off and he turns to stare out the kitchen window.

You squeeze his hand firmly and pull his attention back to you. He looks so handsome, his hair still tousled slightly from sleep and his t-shirt wrinkled from being on the couch all night, but he also really does look troubled and it makes your heart drop. “What is it, Santi?”

“There’s always a danger with any mission,” he says softly. “And it just kills me that I can’t protect you. I just want to protect you and have you come back safe.”

Then he’s pulling you into his arms and burying his face in your neck, and you feel wet spots on your collarbone and it makes tears prick at your eyes too. Santi shakes slightly in your arms and you whisper soft, soothing words into his hair.

He’ll never admit it, but you know. He’s scared.

Because he’s not wrong. This mission has the potential to go sideways and tits-up at the same time, and then flip over backwards for good measure. And you have to admit, although you’re not going to admit it to him because that would likely make it so much worse, that you’d give anything to have him on this mission with you. But you can’t. You can just do your job and do it well, prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

A common mantra in your line of work. One that you always stick to.

But you have so much more to lose this time, and Santi does too, and your breakfast is forgotten as you take him by the hand and drag him back up to your bedroom. You lead him to the bed and lie down on your side, pull him down with you, and curl up into his side. He just wraps his arms around you and holds on like you’re a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to come back to you,” you trace your fingers over his dog tags.

“I know,” he kisses under your ear.

You hope you’re telling the truth. He hopes you’re telling the truth. You both hold each other like it might be the last time, even though it won’t because you’re not leaving for several days, but you’re both acutely aware that you have no way of actually knowing when it might really be the last time.

So you just hold each other silently for a while, until a thought occurs to you and you huff out a gentle laugh.

“What?” Santi asks you, peering at you with heavy lids and stupidly long lashes.

You lean up to kiss him on the nose. “Wanna help me run some strategy?”

His answer is cut off by the very insistent complaint from your stomach. He quirks an eyebrow. “Wanna have a breakfast meeting?”

You giggle. “Probably a good idea.”

Santi plants a kiss on your lips and then gets up, holding out a hand to pull you off the bed and you stand, stretching your arms over your head. He goes to the doorway and says, “I’ll go finish making the food. Meet you at the table in 20, Lieutenant.”

“Sure thing, Captain,” you smile at him.

He moves to leave, and then calls out, “Oh, and Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Santiago?” you roll your eyes, another giggle escaping your lips.

He sticks his head back in the door, just for a moment, just long enough to take all of you in with a look of adoration, and mouths the words “I love you.” Then he turns and goes downstairs.

And you know you can handle - no, you will handle - anything that might happen, and your heart soars.

~end~

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ontheblock · 4 years ago

Note

i will read literally anything you write for patrick (or bowers gang in general) after reading soak 😭🖤 i loved it

say less but don’t regret that later ✋🏻 i found this in my notes on my phone after taking a break from my current wip. bully me into beta reading my stuff next time, i‘m writing at an 3rd grade level sometimes-

for him

•warning: mention of toxic family, toxic relationship, self harm, patrick hockstetter

Patrick was nothing short of a cruel bastard. You knew because everybody in school told you when he first draped his arm around you in the halls before letting you go to your Chemistry class.

“You‘re fucking with Hockstetter? He definitely has bodies in his basement.“ But he called me his girl in front of his friends, was what you wanted to answer. But you didn‘t because you knew how desperate that would make you sound. Because you didn‘t like the truth. You knew that you weren‘t made for him like he always told you when you got close enough to finally standing your ground, finally leaving him. But his words pulled you in just enough to let him sink his claws in your flesh, your heart, all over again.

But the pulsating ache in your chest was the price you paid for falling too deep for someone too far from your reach. Someone like Patrick Hockstetter who never had good intentions. But you convinced yourself that you were different the day he walked you to your house right before curfew.

“So.“ You turned towards him after he broke the silence between you two. “Where‘s my price?“ There was a grin plastered on his face as he leaned down to meet your height. Your breath caught in your throat as he pressed his lips to yours for the first time. Looking back, that was your doomsday, the day you fell for Patrick and never found the rope out of that hole again. So you gave up the act and pushed against him.

It didn‘t last long before he pulled away. Not because he wanted to but the yelling, the screaming that erupted from one of the houses surprised him. The flush on your face burned hotter and right then he knew. It came from your house.

Patrick wasn‘t one to ask questions. He got pretty good at piecing those puzzles together. Broken homes, angry parents, neglected children. He‘s seen it. And to think that you were one of those poor fuckers almost made him laugh in your face. He didn‘t. Not yet.

Not until he really had you. Admittedly, that wasn‘t hard because he only had to say the word and you would stick to his side with needy eyes.

He never asked you out because why would he? He brought you along in Belch Huggins Trans Am. He let his arm dangle over your shoulder. So wasn‘t that pretty much the same thing? The answer was no, but you ignored the little signs with every kiss, with every touch. You were there for his amusement of course. But that meant you did something good for him.

But Patrick always went too far with his jokes and sometimes you didn‘t think they were jokes anymore. He saw how upset you got sometimes, everyone there saw. They knew how he would get and Victor Criss almost felt bad for you when you looked up at Patrick, expecting an “i love you“ that sure as hell never came or even a “sorry“ for everything he did, said. You wanted to look into his face and see warmth pool in his beady eyes for once. You wanted him to pat your head, give your small sign that things were ok. But they weren’t and you knew. Patrick knew. His friends knew.

But all you got was an eerie grin as he loomed over you, leaning against Huggins car. “Don‘t cry, princess.“ You averted your eyes at the snickering that came from his friends. “Made your girl cry again, Hockstetter?“, Belch called from a distance. Fuck them. Patrick briefly turned around to shoot them an amused look. Fuck him, too.

“Should’ve just put out a little, sweetheart.“ A cold thumb traced your wet cheek and you knew you didn‘t mean it as you already leaned into his touch.

“I saw them.“ Your heart skipped multiple beats and you almost thought it would stop completely.

The sun already set when your legs draped over his lap, one hand resting on your thigh. He snuck in through your window again and being his usual shameless self, he settled on your bed and beckoned you closer.

But suddenly you were hyper aware of the way his rings pressed into your skin and his thumb drew tiny shapes in your flesh.

“What?“ Your hands clawed at your duvet. His eyes were unmoving, staring right into yours as his hand traveled up your thigh, making your breath catch.

“The scars. You think I‘m stupid, hm?“ If these words came from anyone else they would sound concerned. But this was Patrick Hockstetter and he wore a grin way too big for the topic he just dropped.

“No, I-“ Your eyes darted down to your thigh, your shorts barely covering the lines littering your skin and you were glad they did, not wanting to be exposed any more than you already were. But Patrick never let you have anything nice like that. His cold fingertips slipped into your shorts, pushing the fabric right over your shame, your secret.

Your breath hitched as his fingers traced the freshest cut. It still burned.

“You can do better.“ Your eyes flew up, thinking he was finally letting his mean demeanor slip for you. Telling you to stop doing this to yourself. That he would be there for you the way you were there for him.

“You can go deeper than that.“ You face fell and Patrick seemed to find that hilarious, snorting at your reaction. Your heart wasn‘t sure if it should drop into your stomach or beat its way out of your ribcage.

“C‘mon, you should‘ve done your arm instead, darling.“ There was the clinking of metal when Patrick‘s ring clad fingers pulled his switchblade out of his pocket but you were frozen in place. This didn‘t feel real. There was no way.

“Try tying your arm before. Y‘know, to make it really squirt.“

You felt like crying when he inched his switchblade closer, expecting you to take it.

“Patrick, no...“, you whispered and Patrick‘s arm pulled back. “No?“ The pinch in his brows made you swallow the lump in your throat. Was he mad at you? He couldn‘t be mad.

So your shaking fingers curled around the handle and you peered up at Patrick, searching. Looking for anything other than disappointment. Looking for his approval like you always did. And the smile that creeped onto his face was enough to flick the blade open.

#tw abuse #tw toxic family #tw toxic relationship #tw cutting #it #it 2017 #it imagine #patrick hockstetter #patrick hockstetter x reader #patrick hockstetter imagine #the bowers gang

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 37

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Five more chapters to go, guys. This is coming to an end 😭 I enjoyed writing it so, so much! In this chapter we have fluff. Literally only fluff and snark, because my babies have suffered enough. And the remainder is gonna be the same. Because fuck pain.

Coulson was mad. Outwardly, of course, he seemed as level-headed as ever, handing out orders and signing papers out left and right, but coming to sit within five feet of him seemed like the worst mistake I had recently made. His phone was ringing practically non-stop and he answered every call, sometimes speaking in different languages I didn't understand, sometimes in rapid-fire English that sounded like Morse code to me.

I'd never been sent to the principal's office but I imagine that's how it feels like. Finally, his shoulders sagged and the breath he took in left his lungs slowly, deflating his body into a tense ball of quiet fury.

"You and mister Brock ruined months worth of investigation and undercover work," The agent finally spoke. "But I can't even be mad at you properly. We've apprehended the main culprit, detained all of his followers except select few that Dr. Xavier took upon himself to handle," His words shocked me; not at all the scolding I was expecting. A deeper part of me was even afraid I'd be taken away and buried under so much red tape not even Tony's seemingly endless money and influence could have gotten me out. "I... Really don't know what more to say." Coulson folded his hands atop the desk, looking over me with a blank look.

"A thank you would be nice," I let my mouth run before the words even really registered in my brain, the cursed thing.

The agent chortled, "Perhaps, we really do owe you a solid one," Before standing up and walking over to the coffee machine in the far corner of his office. "Coffee?" He motioned to a pile of empty cups next to it. I nodded and he set to work. "The guys should be back in two hours, tops," He remarked off-handedly, watching me out of the corner of his eye. There was no way he had missed how my body relaxed into the uncomfortable office chair at the news. "Nobody is hurt except Rogers but I think he'd find how to hurt himself even on recon duty." The man laughed, bringing over two cups of dark, delicious, steamiy hot bean juice. Nhghhgg.

"Steve is a dumbass," I agreed amicably, blowing over the rim of the cup. The stone of coffee on it's own seemed to wake up my previously anxious, half-empty half-racing brain. The past twelve hours were full of urgency, the team being called in for assistance in mere minutes after my and Venom's return to the tower.

They barely had time to wipe their tears and shelf their worries before the suit-up call came, haste hugs and kisses being traded on their way to the quinjet. Coulson showed up not much later after that, a quinjet of his own and a stack of papers for Eddie to fill out, stern instructions for me to follow him and stay glued to his side at all times. I didn't need to ask: it was obvious there was a rat in SHIELD, again. Thankfully, the rat was discovered before they could come and try to increase their odds by doing something to me; I'd hid out in Coulson's office, crashing down into a strange, most likely Venom-induced sleep as footsteps raced past the door.

I'd woken up anxious and disoriented, the owner of the office pacing along the furthest wall and pointedly whispering into his cellphone. The rest was history.

"Your father called," The agent remarked, watching my reaction carefully. "Said to call him back whenever you can."

I was drained, beyond wrung out, and not just from my latest stunt as a parasitic symbiotic alien's host. The past couple of months were a nightmare, an anxiety-riddled, paranoia-spiced mess of a shit show. I was very much looking forward to breathing freely and enjoying my science without hiding my WIPs, enjoying my relationship (s) without fear of being abducted and sending my men into a panicked, destructive spiral.

My voice remained even as I carefully contemplated and spoke my next words. "He can go fuck himself. Him and that harpy of a woman," I sighed: disappointed in my parents, but not surprised. "I'm freshly out of fucks to give. I'm done."

Coulson, if he even was surprised, didn't show it. His expression remained neutral and supportive. "I understand you. There's enough basis for us to aid you in creating a new identity for you, if you'd like," He pushed a stack of papers towards me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. It would be handy, sure, I could be rid of the curse that became of my family name and my parents couldn't legally do anything at all to me; on the other side there was my name plastered on several inventions and projects I'd done over the years. In all my years, I was taught that my name is to be my business card.

The decision was obvious. "No, thank you," I looked at him, hoping to convey the sincerity. "I think I will be okay."

He smiled and went back to his paperwork, all but verbally dismissing me. As soon as I finished my coffee and washed the mug, the couch called to me once again and I curled up under the fleece blanket Coulson had thrown over me while I slept, alternating my attention between sneaking glances at his concentrated form and my cellphone and the few meager games it had. There was no signal and no wi-fi access on the Helicarrier. Security reasons, blah blah blah...

A knock sounded out, startling me out of my sluggish thoughts; one of Coulson's hands crawled down to one of the drawers on his right side where I assumed he had hidden a gun. "Come in," He called out, shooting me a pointed look. I sat up, alert.

"M'here to pick up - uh - a Baby," A tired but amused, familiar voice called out. Clint stepped into the room, still wearing his dirty and bloody uniform, and, as my eyes briefly scanned him, the archer appeared to be unhurt save for a few bruises here and there. His eyes landed on me immediately, visibly relieved.

"Waa," I deadpanned indignantly, raising my hands like a toddler would do when they wanted to be picked up. The only thing Clint was missing was a courier's ball cap.

"I assume the mission went smoothly?" Coulson asked, a soft grin and even softer eyes landing on our interaction.

Clint nodded affirmative, walking over and picking me up with ease, disregarding my shierk completely and stopping only when I poked him in the ear - closest appendage to me - in retaliation. His eyes were laughing and his tone was flat. "Caw caw, motherfucker," He announced to me flatly, waving goodbye to Coulson.

We passed more than a dozen agents giving us the biggest side-eye as I dangled over his shoulder, ass up in the air, fiddling with the numerous straps of his gear as Clint power-walked us to the Avengers quinjet. I'd even stuck out my tongue to some dude pointing a finger at us.

My family was already loaded into the vehicle, all in various stages of dirty, bloody and undressed. Coulson's words were true - only Steve sported a wide bandage over his shoulder, neck and head - one look at Bucky and I just knew the Captain would be regretting his stupidity in a few hours time. Even Stephen was there, looking unhurt but very annoyed and tired, as he hovered a few feet off the ground with Cloaky majestically swaying behind him.

"And what the fuck was that little performance for?" I asked once Clint deposited me in the very front row, between a dozing Bruce and a tinkering Tony.

"I had strict instructions from the Hulk," The archer grinned, pushing a few buttons on the dashboard of the vehicle. In seconds, we took off home.

"Oh, hi," Bruce must've heard his green counterpart being mentioned; his eyes cracked open just as I smiled at the scientist and reached over to brush his curly mop of hair out of his face. "M'yes, Hulk is demanding you do not set foot on the ground these days," Bruce was sleepy and warm, so soft when he kissed my hand, I felt my heart swell.

"Gonna spoil me rotten, you lot," I snorted, keeping the happy smile and the warm feeling as Stephen came back from the Astral world, opening his eyes and giving me a grin of his own.

"That's my job," Tony mumbled, still very occupied with a part of his suit. I turned around expecting a kiss; I had to stifle an ugly snort upon discovering one of the parts of his Iron Man suit got damaged and stuck, making a part of the chestplate render one of his arms temporarily immobile. Tony looked like a frustrated toddler building Legos.

"Someone get me a screwdriver and some pliers," I gently pried away the calloused fingers away from the jagged piece of metal, kissing Tony's cheek in the moments until Natasha handed me the required instruments. Tony was free, grimacing in discomfort as he stretched and rotated his arm, in little under ten minutes. "What happened to the nanosuit?" I asked, not remembering the last time I'd seen Tony in one of his older, clunkier creations.

"They had some sort of technopath mutant," He grumbled - I had discovered the source of his ire. "Turns out, Bruce snuck in my special anti-mutant suit I'd made ages ago. Nanosuit got destroyed in seconds and Hulk had to carry me back to the quinjet for a change of equipment," Despite his sour mood, Tony was visibly more relaxed than since the day I confessed I'd been drugged. "Brucie-bear, this is exactly why it remained a prototype."

"It's better to get stuck in a suit than to be a meat pancake on the sidewalk," Used to Tony's tantrums, Bruce merely blinked and continued eating the chocolate that he procured only God knew where.

I locked eyes with Stephen, both of us shaking our heads in almost identical, semi-fond semi-annoyed way. Ah, sweet sweet normalcy.

There were towers of pizza boxes as we arrived in the tower; a couple of agents got all but yeeted out by Tony, with little to no thank you as they had been the ones that arranged the food for us - still, I understood Tony's dislike of the super-secret organisation and merely paid the two for the pizza, politely waving goodbye as they side-eyed Tony with disdain.

Then, I had to tow both Clint and Thor as they attempted to begin eating, still wearing muddy bloody clothes - of course, I did not possess the physical strength required to handle two adult men, so I merely began a small lecture on parasites (Stephen gleefully joined in) and both of them scattered towards the showers like two spooked little first-graders.

I also used the brief moment of stagnation to hug Loki; these days he didn't freeze in surprise but rather warmly hugged me back, whispering something cheeky to me as I buried my face in his chest. Stephen was the one to cough extra-loudly to attempt to separate us - it was, once again, unanimously decided to have a family dinner and a cuddle pile straight after. Food coma had never sounded nicer.

"So, what'd Coulson say to you?" Clint asked curiously as we all settled in, freshly showered and those who needed it, re-bandaged. I was warm and toasty between Tony and Stephen, wearing the former's gym shorts and the latter's hoodie, Bruce's t-shirt underneath it. The scientist himself was drooling onto Tony's shoulder, somwhere between sleep and awareness, glasses askew.

"He basically thanked me and offered me a new identity," I shrugged, polishing off the last of my smoothie and handing the second bottle over to Loki. As usual, no food was wasted and I always had someone to finish my leftovers, especially since Bucky tended to think I could eat as much as him and kept trying to overfeed me like a foie gras goose.

"Congrats, you've been adopted," Natasha snorted from her place between Clint and Steve. Only the red of her hair was visible behind the man-bulk and the blankets.

"Uh," My response was, as always, deeply informative and astute.

"He likes to take in strays," Clint full-belly laughed. "Me at first, then Natasha. He's got a soft spot for Tony and Bucky but he won't admit it."

My eyebrows rose. "That's... That's my job?" I remembered the whole Venom/Eddie situation, our rogue wizard. Coulson was aiming for my place- the audacity! "He can't just do that!"

"And you can?" Stephen's finger booped my nose, making me huff and cuddle up to Tony, turning my butt towards the sorcerer to show him exactly what I thought about his observations. He only laughed harder. "Sounds like someone's a little jealous."

"Okay, boomer," I rolled my eyes. Stephen Strange, a supreme troll is what he is.

"But that's why you love me," He continued as others around us groaned and snorted, too used to us teasing each other about our age difference and my old man kink. Whatever, I got to bang my hot old men anyways.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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While You Were Sleeping (Okay, in a Coma)

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Derek Morgan & Latina Original Female Character Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid Word Count: 2,058 Chapters: 1 of ? WIP Tags: SFW so far, Sophie is not in the BAU, While You Were Sleeping (film) AU, Coffee shop, Unrequited love, Canon-typical violence, Slow burn

Summary: What happens when Derek Morgan, the man Sophie Cortes is secretly in love with, goes into a coma, and everyone around them mistakes her for his girlfriend? As if things weren't complicated enough, his boss is sweet, kind, incredibly handsome, and makes sure she's taken care of while Derek is in the hospital. Plus, she thinks one of Derek's coworkers is more secretly in love with him than she is. Feelings shift, but how does Sophie explain to the world that she fell for Aaron while Derek was sleeping, without hurting everyone she's come to care about?

Read on AO3 or read more below! The morning that changes Sophie Cortes’s life forever begins much like any other: she wakes up at 3 AM to her blaring alarm, slides out of bed with a groan, tugs off the oversized t-shirt she slept in and pulls on a sports bra and leggings to go for a run. She knows this makes her sound like a lunatic, but with her schedule, if she doesn’t exercise before the crack of dawn, it just doesn’t happen.

After her run, she goes home to shower and change, grabs her bag and drives to The Busy Bean, the coffee shop she co-owns with her best friend Jocelyn. Jocelyn is the brains of the operation, the one with all the great marketing ideas, the one who handles the finances and vendors and supply issues and makes sure everything is Fair Trade or else—Sophie bakes cookies and makes macchiatos, but everyone’s got their strong suits.

She loves the coffee shop more than anything, its bright brick walls and dark wood floors, the smell of fresh beans and sugar, the bustle of regular customers they get from being so near Quantico; most of them are serious suit types, always in a hurry, but some of them are sweet, take their time to say good morning, like Sophie’s favorite customer, Derek.

She knows Derek is a fed of some sort, even though he’s not usually in a suit. He has that air about him, like he’s powerful and capable, like he’s seen things, but he never fails to flash her a megawatt smile, to lean against the counter while she makes his mocha and ask her how her morning is going. She’s a little bit in love with him.

Jocelyn knows this, and always makes sure Sophie is the one to wait on him; when she calls Sophie out from the kitchen specifically because Derek’s there, she knows he knows, and she flushes, but he says she makes his drink better than anyone, always asks her for a cookie recommendation on Fridays so he can take a box to the office, so she thinks it might not be completely one sided. Maybe. Or he’s just a really, really sweet guy.

On the morning that changes her life forever, he’s still very sweet, but she also sees a side of him she’s never seen before.

Someone tries to rob them. The man walks right up to the counter, no mask, no nothing, and tells her to put all of the money from the register into a cookie box or he’ll pull out the gun he’s got in his pocket and blow her face off. Her first instinct is to be pissed about this, which she knows is really stupid. She takes a step back, looks at the guy like he’s an idiot, crosses her arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how hard we work for this money? We don’t sit around… playing video games in our mom’s basement, like you do, by the looks of it.” The guy is obviously not happy about this, slams his hands down on the counter, and Derek, who is two spots behind him, leans slightly out of line to get her attention.

“Sophie, is this guy bothering you?” Before she can answer, the guy turns to look at Derek; he takes one glance at his hot, strong physique, and then his gun and his badge thing, and books it out of the shop. Derek tears off after him, and Sophie can see this ending very badly, so she grabs Jocelyn, asks her to cover the register and tells her she’ll be right back.

She jogs outside, expecting to see Derek manhandling the dumbass robber, or at least still chasing after him; she does not expect to see Derek laying on the ground, bleeding out, a bullet wound in his stomach.

“Oh my god, Derek!” She skids to a halt next to him, pulls off her apron—it’s mostly clean, she thinks—and lifts up his shirt, presses it to the wound to stop the bleeding. “Are you okay? That’s dumb, you’re not okay, but can you hear me? Are you going to die?” He chuckles, and that makes her feel a little better, but then he coughs up blood, and that makes her feel much, much worse.

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket, calls 911, and just stays with him, talks to him about nothing and everything, until the police and paramedics arrive. At that point, he has passed out, looks drained and weak, so unlike the Derek she has come to know… and love. Fuck. If he dies because of something that happened at her shop…

“Excuse me, miss, but we need to get him on the stretcher,” an EMT says, putting his hand gently on her shoulder. She backs off, knows he needs to be attended to, but she can’t leave him, she just can’t.

“Can I ride to the hospital with him? Please,” she asks the other tech, and she glances at her partner, who nods. Sophie sighs a breath of relief, sends a text to Jocelyn explaining what happened and that she’ll need to be out of the shop for the foreseeable future.

She notices that Derek’s phone has fallen off of his belt, and she picks it up, since the paramedics don’t seem interested. She absently decides to look through his recent contacts, to see if there’s someone she should inform of the accident: the last number he dialed belongs to someone named Hotch, and she vaguely remembers him mentioning the name before. It might be his boss, or something? He dials the number frequently, anyway, so she figures it’s worth a shot.

“Hotchner,” the man answers after two rings, and Sophie sighs, glad she got through to someone. Even if he’s not the person she should be contacting, he might know how to reach them.

“Uh, hello. I’m pretty sure you’re Derek’s boss, but even if you aren’t, you’re the last person he called, so… There’s been an accident. Derek’s been shot. We’re headed to the GWU Medical Center; I thought you would want to know.” She can hear the man moving some papers in the background, banging something around on his desk, maybe.

“We’re on the way; how bad is it? Is he conscious? What happened?” The paramedics signal for her to hop into the back of the ambulance, so she does, and she takes Derek’s limp hand. Her eyes well up with tears, and it feels real, now, that she has to relive it.

“There was someone trying to rob the coffee shop, and—and Derek went after him; he had a gun, and I guess he shot him. I mean, he obviously shot him. In the stomach. He’s not conscious; I don’t know how bad it is, but he was coughing up blood. Oh, god,” she breathes, voice shaky, and the man on the phone makes a soft sound of reassurance.

“It’s alright. He’s a very strong person, I promise you. He’ll be okay. You said you were headed to GWU Medical Center; are you with him now?”

“Yes. The paramedics let me ride with him. I can text you an update when we get there, his room number if he has one.” She can hear him talking to someone else in the background, but it only takes him a moment to answer.

“Please do. We’ll be there as quickly as we can. Thank you,…?” He pauses, clearly wondering who the hell she is.

“Oh, Sophie. Sophie Cortes.”

“Aaron Hotchner. Thank you. We’ll see you soon.”

The paramedics push Derek into the emergency room entrance, and Sophie follows behind, feeling anxious and out of place, and worried about his injury. They push the gurney through a set of double doors, and Sophie goes to follow, but a stern looking nurse in gold scrubs puts a hand in front of her, doesn’t even look up from her clipboard.

“You can’t go in there.” Sophie’s heart-rate jumps, and she shakes her head.

“I need to go in there, I need to make sure he’s okay. Please.”

“Are you family?” she asks, giving her a once-over; she clearly decides that Sophie is not family, and she doesn’t want to lie, anyway.

“No, I’m not family, but—”

“Like I said, you can’t go in there. Family only.” She moves her arm, waits like she dares Sophie to try, but she just sighs, sags against the wall, and the woman walks away.

“But you don’t understand,” Sophie says weakly, to herself. “I’m in love with him.” She brings up a hand to scrub at the tears forming in her eyes, and another nurse, one with blue scrubs and braids and a kind smile, rests a palm on her shoulder.

“Come with me.” Sophie looks up at her—she looks kind of like an angel, but it’s probably just the fluorescent lighting—and nods, follows.

She takes her through a staff only door, sneaks her into the OR hallway, where they can peer through a window at Derek, surrounded by doctors, surgeons, nurses. Sophie has only seen this kind of stuff on TV, so she doesn’t know how it’s going, but the nurse who brought her tells her to stay there for one second and bustles off.

It’s really scary to watch: there are bloody cloths being thrown around, and tubes and clamps and other medical devices she’s not sure the use for, but after a moment, she can see a doctor lift up a pair of surgical pliers, and there’s a bullet between the prongs. That’s a good sign, she’s pretty sure.

The nice nurse comes back, and she scares the shit out of Sophie when she puts a hand on her arm, making her jump a foot. She smiles apologetically, and Sophie returns it.

“I found out his room number, if you’d like to go sit and wait for him to be brought in. It's an ICU, so technically visiting hours haven’t started yet, but I can make an exception—for an hour, okay?” Sophie nods, wraps her hands around the nurse's wrists.

“Thank you so much. Really—I just need to know he’s okay,” she says, and the woman nods understandingly and takes her to room 104, where Derek will be placed after surgery.

She texts the number to Derek’s boss, takes a seat on the chair in the corner of the room. She gets restless quickly, stands up, uses the bathroom sink to scrub at her hands, because they’re still stained with Derek’s blood. It’s quiet, eerily so, until suddenly it isn’t.

Derek is wheeled in on a bed by a couple of nurses; he looks a little better, all wrapped up in gauze, and they hook him to machines, displaying a steady heartbeat. She breathes a sigh of relief. He’s alright. He’s not dead. That’s incredible news. She takes his hand, wills herself not to cry, murmurs that she’s so happy he’s alive.

As soon as the nurses leave, a group of people who can only be Derek’s coworkers enter the room. There is a tall, serious looking man with dark hair and a dark suit; a woman with thick fringe, a kind face; an older guy with facial hair who looks worried and weary; a skinny guy who looks about the same as Sophie feels; a petite blonde woman with the bluest eyes Sophie’s ever seen; and another blonde woman with crimped hair and glossy lips who has absolutely been crying. They look at Sophie, and she stands, drops Derek’s hand.

“Um, hi, I’m—”

“Who are you?” a doctor says suddenly from behind the group. The kind nurse who let her see Derek is behind him. The serious looking man reaches into his pocket, flashes a badge with a no-nonsense expression.

“We’re with the FBI. We’re his coworkers.” He looks over at Sophie, and she takes a deep breath. Before she can explain who she is, the kind nurse steps around the doctor, flashes Sophie a smile.

“And she’s his girlfriend.”

Uh. What the fuck?

Derek’s coworkers exchange a look that says pretty much the same thing; the tall skinny one looks like his heart has been broken.

Sophie opens her mouth to correct that extremely incorrect assumption, but she can’t find the words, and then she passes out.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner/original female character #aaron hotchner x original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #derek morgan #derek morgan fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #latina original female character #moreid #while you were sleeping #coffee shop au #derek morgan x spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid

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neonponders · 3 years ago

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WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @lazybakerart 💗💋

I’ve got two big writing projects on my plate this week lol but one thing I’m kind of indulging is a break-up/getting back together fic that I actually started in this post, but I’ll share what I have so far underneath the cut ~

(and excuse me while I overshare, because I’m still stupidly proud of this The Mummy_au post that I made if anyone wants a taste of that)

Tagging (if you want) ✨ @ghostofjellyfishforgotten , ✨ @smashmouth-hargrove , and ✨ @withoneheadlight

(also just a heads up for the wip below: it’s once again me exploring my own asexuality through Steve, but I don’t know how far I’m going to go into it. Still, that might be a content warning people may need if they’re sex-repulsed 🌹)

Ch. 1

Sex with Billy was fine. Good, even.

When they finally moved past every look and touch being a threat veiled in a tease, Steve enjoyed looking at Billy. He enjoyed looking at Billy and discovering those California eyes already on him. He liked Billy’s hands. The man had beautiful hands; strong, thick fingers but...somehow elegant.

He liked Billy’s body, even though he sometimes worried that the guy seemed determined to break it ten different ways. Cigarettes, alcohol, excessive working out, and sometimes all at the same time.

Sex didn’t always mean Steve got to cum. Usually he didn’t, actually. But he enjoyed Billy’s kisses on his neck, and the taste of his tongue, and - admittedly - he loved just having all of Billy’s attention enraptured on him. Steve didn’t mind taking his dick inside because once he got used to it, that felt surprisingly good. When he managed the pleasurable sparks and sensational tingles that mounted into something explosive, he understood why sex was great. But for the more frequent, calm nights, he’d come to think of it as a weird yet pleasant massage.

So he took it. Because it was easier on his hands and knees, for one, and because Billy had a control complex. And Steve could hide his lack of enthusiasm.

Not to say that Billy was selfish or careless. Far from it, Billy Hargrove was an incredibly doting lover. Big surprise, there. Considering how the guy

Well

Existed.

Steve couldn’t really blame Billy for never noticing that he could go a long time without sex. Because Steve liked resting his hand on Billy’s chest while they watched a show or movie. It didn’t matter how much bare skin he had access to. In fact, the more coverage, the better. A clothed body is better to cuddle with than skin that can get sticky or irritated.

Steve liked kissing. He’d always liked kissing. Kissing was the reason he’d assumed he was like everyone else: the desire to kiss, crushes and girlfriends, masturbating, even the giddiness of sex with someone new.

But something fizzled out very quickly in Steve’s brain. Once hands and intent started moving beneath clothing, Steve just...didn’t want it. Suddenly a lot of things popped into his brain that he’d rather be doing. But he persevered because he loved Nancy, and her blooming sexual prowess and bravery was sexy.

Fun.

Billy was a whole big bag of new with an edge of scary that turned out to be more endearing than Steve thought possible. So it was easy to go like that for a while.

Normal.

Eventually he had to admit to himself that he didn’t like taking showers at 1am because he didn’t enjoy being covered in his own, and Billy’s, sweat. He didn’t like feeling the drips on his skin or the tackiness of too many skin oils on his hands.

He hated admitting to himself that he felt relief whenever Billy went out of town for work. He missed Billy, of course, but a lot of things had begun to snowball together in Steve’s life: changing jobs, managing bank accounts and savings, and there were a lot of truths Steve was facing outside of his relationship.

He was tired. Damn tired. He spent many days off wondering if people in their twenties feel this tired all the time or if it was just him. It must just be him. Because Steve sees Robin just as much as he doesn’t. She’s got goals.

And Billy

Billy has big dreams. He’s ready to work damn hard and already is. That’s why he uses his hefty gas money funds, to travel around. Scout the areas. Steve even drove him to the airport once, so Billy could really gain some distance over the weekend. Expand his network.

As if the universe knew, some bigwig passing through Hawkins on their way to Chicago ran right into Billy. A bigwig looking for a handsome, charismatic, young guy to mentor. It really couldn’t be more perfect than divine intervention. They’re Billy’s inlet to the business. Modeling, acting, freaking UNICEF ambassadorial work if he wants to feel extra important. If he gets big enough to have his face mean something around the world.

Within one conversation, he’s got a business card, and an appointment in a Chicago skyscraper next week to take measurements and do a rudimentary photo shoot. The manager warns him that it’s the agency getting to know him, but like any job interview, it’s his chance to interview them right back. Billy likes that a lot—feeling like he has a stake in something instead of just being a corporate pawn. And maybe he eats right out of the manager’s hand, but it’s still a shot. And he’s taking it.

He immediately goes to Steve’s work, fired up from seeing a future for the first time like he finally got the right prescription glasses. The only caveat is that Billy has to move out of Hawkins, which isn’t even a flaw, really. It’s as close to perfect as life’s ever been for him.

Steve can only listen quietly as he sits at the table in the break room. Because Billy’s got big dreams that are already coming true. Every detail of his enflamed speech is given over pacing feet; he can’t even bother to sit at the table. Billy’s got so much energy he’s already mentally and emotionally out the door.

Steve…isn’t. His mental health has been on a downward slope since before they graduated, and it won’t allow him to reach anywhere. He doesn’t have any dreams to steer him in any direction anyways.

Billy’s rant begins to wind down about what he wants to do; his fire about his dreams and his motivation simmers down to an even boil. Steve’s impressed and already proud of the person Billy will become, but Steve can also hear Billy’s frustration with him and their relationship.

For not keeping up.

Steve’s…kind of never been able to keep up. In bed or in life.

And perhaps the saddest part is that Steve doesn’t even have it in him to fight for it. For them. He doesn’t feel worthy enough to hold Billy back. So he doesn’t.

Billy snaps a little, “Why aren’t you saying anything? I’ve been talking about this for the last two years! Steve?”

He’d gotten distracted by looking at his backpack hanging on the wall. Steve’s throat hurt. Two years? God, it’s really been two years already…

He pinched his fingertips over the table as he began, “Billy, I support you. I know you can get there—wherever it is you want to be. I’m not going to tell you to stop or slow down. You’re going somewhere. But I’m…”

He took a breath to finally say it. “Not. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t think I have the energy to figure it out any time soon. You should go.”

Steve can see the disappointment sinking through Billy’s features. And the anger that he’s so used to throwing up as a shield. Billy has so much energy coursing through him as it is, Steve can’t blame him for swinging right into the direction of livid.

The real surprise comes from how soft he speaks. No yelling. No hitting the table. No wrenching Steve up by his green uniform vest. They were long past those outbursts. Which…really just confirmed Steve’s decision. Billy had come a long way. He could go so much further.

“That’s what you have to say? Just like that…you’re really giving up on us?”

Steve knows he’s gaping like a stupid fish. But it isn’t just like that, is it? Billy’s been revving his engines to get the hell out of Hawkins ever since he got here in the first place. Steve tries to say as much, but Billy cuts him off.

“I thought you’d be excited for this. You should be hauling me out of here to pack my bags.”

Steve tries to offer a small smile, but his voice betrays him. “I thought I kind of am? I didn’t take you for the long distance type.”

It’s not the response Billy wants. That should make Steve feel better than it does; the blatant display that Billy wants more of Steve. His excitement, his attention, maybe his companionship…

Steve doesn’t know what he wants—or rather, he does. That’s the issue. Billy’s wants and Billy’s problems can all be resolved by leaving one critical piece behind.

Steve.

Some more things are said, but Steve doesn’t do well on the spot. Especially when the limelight is Billy. Steve fails the tests and he fails the interview. Billy storms out, leaving Steve at the table, pinching his fingertips white before he unconsciously glances at his backpack again.

The backpack full of apartment lease papers. The papers Steve’s already signed because even with his insecurities, the mornings he woke up to discover Billy spooning him after having returned in the middle of the night were his best days. Because Billy’s silly insistence on hand poured coffee was his favorite drink. Because Billy was funny and weird like an artist and loony like a nerd with his video games, and Steve knew—or at least hoped that—Billy loved him the day he started holding his hand while driving that stupid, loud, beloved Camaro—

Because Steve’s heart was a magnet. It stayed where it landed and tugged back even when pulled away.

All he’d needed was Billy’s autograph to be given the keys. Keys to the rest of their lives, if Billy wasn’t already so far away.

Ch. 2

Robin gripped Steve’s arm, hard. A gargled sound escaped him as he grimaced and tried to pry her hand off. Her other hand pointed at one of the catalogues on the store’s many counters. When he invited her with him to pick out glasses, he hadn’t expected to walk out of the freaking optometrist’s office with bruises…

Nor had he thought he’d see a familiar face in the catalogue. Plenty of models were looking editorial chic, advertising that anyone could look as good in whatever glasses they chose.

Except Billy really did look good. The picture was just a vague image outside, the camera focused on Billy’s three-quarter profile gazing off past the photographer.

“I didn’t expect him to actually be working this fast,” Robin admitted. “It’s been…what? Seven months, give or take? I thought casting calls for models were competitive.”

“Not if you look like Billy,” Steve huffed with a quiet mixture of humor, sadness, and just a sprinkle of spite. A sprinkle of jealousy, if he was being honest with himself. The self-help book tucked under the covers of his bed talked about honesty. So he admitted honestly, “He looks that good and knows how to stand out in a room…good for him.”

He could see in his periphery Robin looking up and scrutinizing him. “Really?”

Steve shrugged with a nod. “Yeah. What’s the other option? Him struggling for work?”

Robin sighed and plucked a display set of glasses at random to try on and occupy herself. “That’s big of you, but everyone wants something cathartic. It’s annoyingly impressive that he landed the front cover of a magazine in less than a year.”

Steve opened the catalogue to give them both a reprieve. “You wanna get food after this? Take your mind off the audition?”

For all the good being a band geek did, Robin had experienced her own humbling experiences over the last few months. Like failed auditions to be in city orchestras. She and Steve were feeling very stuck in Kansas while Billy gallivanted around Oz.

• • • • • • •

The plot gets messy because years will actually go by, and Steve and Robin get married so that they can share insurance benefits (and be safe in their bi/lesbian open relationship, buy a house together, etc. It’s the life/happiness security Steve wants but obviously there aren’t any romantic feelings).

Of course this is when Billy happens to reenter Steve’s life. He’s got some hot-shot model he’s been seeing, and apparently Steve is married so there’s the added dash and twist of ~ cheating ~

I’ve been in some kind of mood, all right.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading lol.

#harringrove #wip wednesday #this is a long one i'm sorry lol #also do check out the mummy au linked above for a much happier wip lol #neonponders #lazybakerart #the art of steve in a blindfold can also be considered a wip?#i'll reblog it for everyone haha #ficlet #break-up/getting back together

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ateezmakemeweep · 5 years ago

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hello lovely, i know youre busy working on your WIP, which i am so excited for btw, but i saw that youre taking reaction requests? can you maybe do ateez reaction to finding out their s/o is breaking/broke up with them because they have chronic illness and they dont want to make them sad? only if you have time, dont force yourself ily 💕💕

❥ kim hongjoong

two weeks after you and hongjoong broke up, he had gotten the news through a mutual friend.

when they had said you were starting to do your treatment at the hospital, his heart sank and he immediately felt panic overtake him. treatment? for what?

“wait…she didn’t tell you?”

he charged to your house that night and knocked on your door, everything inside him wanting to be frantic and loud and ask you why the hell you thought breaking up with him when you needed someone most was the best idea. because he proved time and time again he loved you, that he wanted to be there for you no matter what.

and when you opened the door and saw the look on his face, tears immediately sprung to your eyes and you two just stared at one another in silence.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he asked you, the brokenness and sadness in his tone only making you feel worse. you shook your head and cried, told him you didn’t wanna make him go through all of that with the chance that you’re just gonna die on him. that you can’t and won’t be responsible for him being a guy with a dead ex girlfriend.

he wants to tell you how stupid that sounds, how he doesn’t care how the worst case scenario will effect him and all he wants to do is focus on you. but instead, he just takes you in his arms and presses his lips to your head, telling you that even if you wanna stay broken up, he plans on being there with you every step of the way.

❥ park seonghwa

seonghwa had only come to the first appointment with you because you thought you were pregnant.

but when there was no sign of a baby and instead something that looked “unusual and alarming” it set panic off in both of you. you were sent from specialist to specialist, seonghwa insisting he go with you to each and every appointment despite the way he was taking off a work and neglecting his duties.

it’s why when you got the final diagnosis, you sat seonghwa down and told him you didn’t love him anymore. that you’ve been thinking about it for a while and think it’ll be best to stop leading him on. but the man didn’t believe you for a second, if the way you couldn’t even look at him when you whimpered out the words were any indication of the truth.

and then the way you crumpled in his hold when he took you in his arms and rubbed at your back, tears pricking his own eyes when you started to cry and told him not to make this harder than it already was.

“you’re not leaving me, i won’t let you,” his gruff, watery voice told you. he bent down to meet your gaze, wiping the tears from your face because he knew why you were doing this. the doctor had said everything clear as day, that this illness would impact your life and be a day to day adjustment for both of you; and he wasn’t stupid enough to not notice that you were trying to spare him.

“how could you even think i would let you do this alone?” he mumbled against your ear, serving as the final thing to make you completely crack and have a vice grip around his body. the same way he takes you in his arms and tells you that you’ll get through it together.

❥ jeong yunho

yunho had been devastated over the breakup.

it had just seemed to come out of nowhere, one month talking about getting an apartment together and then the next, you telling him you didn’t want a relationship anymore and that he deserved better. he had tried to talk with you, desperate in his attempts to change your mind and ask if he did anything wrong but you seemed adamant.

it was when he was going to pick up the rest of his stuff that he heard you on the phone, crying to your mother that you couldn’t possible put him through this. make him watch you deteriorate and struggle and possibly make him limit his own life just so he could take care of you.

your face dropped when you turned around and saw him standing in the doorway, a look of hurt and disbelief on his face as you told your mother you would call her back. nothing was said between the two of you until you told him his stuff was on the dining room table, an uncharacteristic look of anger crossing his face as his large frame stomped over to you.

it made you scared and nervous, backing yourself into the kitchen counter just for him to pull you in his arms and hold you tight. “why didn’t you tell me?” he asked brokenly in your ear, your throat clogging with tears and emotion until you started sobbing into his chest and stuttered out apology after apology.

you made it feel as if he did something wrong when he’d always done everything right. when he told you every day he loved you and wanted to take care of you. “please don’t do that again,” he mumbled against your head, pulling back so he can hold your face in his large hands. “i love you and i want to be there for you, y/n.”

❥ kang yeosang

“but why? why do you wanna end things? give a reason, y/n.”

this had been the sentence leaving yeosang’s mouth for the past 20 minutes, not believing for a second that you actually wanna end things. your relationship had been nothing but bliss for the past two years, the worst argument you got into lasting for all of five minutes before you both broke down and apologized.

but this was different. you were hysterical the second he walked in the door, barely able to look at him with unshed tears in your eyes before you mumbled out that you wanted to break up. but he wasn’t making it easy and it was only making you more and more upset; you didn’t wanna end things in the first place so why was he making things so hard? why was he hounding you non stop, his quiet but firm words eventually making you blurt out that you’re sick.

and that caused the storm to start, for you to break down and completely tell him what you’ve been going through. how you only went to the doctor for an annual checkup, telling them you hadn’t felt good for a few weeks, before it turned into specialist after specialist until your diagnosis was given to you earlier today.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he mumbled against your head. “i would’ve been there for you, baby.”

“i don’t- don’t wanna make you go through this, it’s not fair to you so we have to break up. i can’t let you-“

“it’s not up to you,” he told you firmly, pulling your face back so you can see the intensity and sureness in his stare. the way he wasn’t gonna allow you to make that decision for him, how he always intended on being there for you and that now an actual problem has surfaced, he plans on proving himself to you completely.

❥ choi san

you had kept san in the dark until you no longer could.

distanced yourself completely for that month of doctors appointments, faking smiles and laughs with him until you went home and cried in your bed as you tried to accept your fate. and, ironically enough, on the day you got the final life-altering diagnosis, was also the day san called you out on your shit.

“what’s been going on with you lately, baby?” he asked you softly, running his hand through your hair and watching the way your eyes immediately became glossy. “i could tell something’s been wrong but i wanted to wait until you were ready to tell me.”

the words pour out of you before you can stop them, san’s heart breaking the more you talk because he hadn’t know any of this. he let you go through this alone even though he knew something wasn’t right with you. he kissed your face and head as he tugged your body into his, apologizing to you over and over that only served to make you cry more.

why was he apologizing? you were the one who lied and you’re the one who’s gonna mess up his life if you think about staying with him. so that’s why when he tells you not to worry, that he’s gonna be with you everyday from here on out, you shake your head and tell him you wanna break up.

“what?” his broken voice asked, looking at you with disbelief and sadness in his eyes.

“i can’t expect you to stay with me because of this,” you whimpered out, a fate you were all to ready to accept. “it’s gonna make things so complicated and difficult and i’m gonna-“

“i don’t care,” san’s voice snaps. it’s hard and firm and like nothing you’ve ever head from the sweet boy before. “how can you even think-“ he can’t even get the words out because they’re so vile to him, that he’d actually accept this from you and allow to go through this alone.

he doesn’t let you go for the rest of the night, telling you that he’s never gonna leave you and there’s nothing you can say to change his mind.

❥ song mingi

mingi almost couldn’t believe the odds of seeing his ex girlfriend walk through the hospital doors.

he also couldn’t believe, as creepy as it seemed, that he lingered outside the building for almost two hours because he didn’t know what to do. should he go in and try to find what was wrong with you? you didn’t look sick or like you had an emergency, maybe you were visiting someone?

does he even have the right to know, though? you broke up with him almost a month ago and left him with a broken heart, the cold and callous way in which you did it like nothing he’d ever seen from you before.

lost in his thoughts, he almost missed you coming out of the doors until he heard you gasp, his eyes narrowing in on you just as you turned around and took off down the stairs. he shook his head and called out after you, grabbing you by the wrist gently as he spun you around.

the tears in your eyes were already there, the way he looked so softly down at you and asked if everything was okay making them worse. and maybe it was because this was your first session and you were absolutely terrified, that there was a problem with the billing and it was making you further stressed, that you still loved and missed so much and now he was right in front of you.

but you whimpered out a no and completely caught him off guard when you all but collapsed in his hold, his arms wrapping around your frame as he held you tight and mumbled assurances against your head. he was finally able to sit you down on a bench and get everything out of you, listen to your voice wobble as you tell him about trial drugs and procedures that make him feel like he’s about to cry himself.

he stays strong for you though, pressing a kiss to your head as he tells you regardless of your relationship status, he’d like to come to each and every appointment with you.

❥ jung wooyoung

his mom had been the one to tell him something wasn’t right.

that your excuse for ending things and the abruptness of it all just didn’t make sense. that there was probably something deeper going on with you and that he should go over and check in on you.

and he thanks god that he did, because you opened the door with fresh tears in your eyes and just on an instinct, he found himself reaching out for you. crashing your body into his as he shook his head and asked if everything was really okay. if he did something wrong and if you could just hear him out for any mistakes he might’ve made.

but that only made you cry harder before you eventually told him about your diagnosis; he had known about your medical problems but didn’t know anything official was determined, pulling back to look at you and wanting so badly to flick you in the head and chastise you for thinking breaking up would be the best option for the both of you.

“please don’t end things,” he begged in the doorway, his thumbs rubbing at your face desperately. “let me be here for you, please.”

❥ choi jongho

it seemed as if jongho knew something was wrong before you even did.

weeks before your official diagnosis and doctors appointment, he had noticed the subtle little changes in you and your body. how easily fatigued you’d get, the way you were losing weight quickly and how pale and sunken your face was getting.

he had been extra gentle and mindful of you, watching you closely and feeling his stomach sink because it didn’t seem like you were right. and when you tried to end things one evening, break up with him because you were sick of being in a relationship, he really knew something was wrong.

“why aren’t you talking to me?” he asked you softly, the tone of his voice and look in his eyes immediately weakening you. “i know something’s wrong, y/n, but you won’t talk to me. and now you’re doing this.”

tears prick your eyes and when he takes you in his arms, that’s all that needs to happen for your broken state to complete crack. for you to cry and tell him what the doctor said, how your life is gonna start to be really difficult and change and that you don’t want him to have to deal with that, too.

“but i want to,” he hums in your ear, his hand stroking your arm and down attempting to calm your shaking frame. “i want to and i’m not gonna leave you.”

#💌#ateez #ateez reactions #request

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writeblrfantasy · 4 years ago

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a king and his knight | part 1

from the day he was knighted, the knight had cared for the king. he wasn’t a king then, only a younger brother who would never become crown prince. he was quiet, kept to himself and his books, but snappy and feisty when provoked. he didn’t seem to care much about his future or his family.

the knight had taken oaths of loyalty for the sick king and his strong, eldest golden son, to serve and protect them and put their safety before all else. but while he and his fellows trained hard, worked themselves to the bone, defended and protected and upheld their oaths, his fellows looked to the king and crown prince, and the knight looked to the younger prince.

his fellows would try to curry favor from the older royals by helping them with small tasks or attempting great big ones, quests that either ended in their tragic ends or with beautiful prizes to give as tribute. the knight, meanwhile, gathered roses from the gardens and left them in a bundle by the prince’s door, since he’d never seen anyone give the prince flowers. he searched for and left him books he’d overheard the prince talk about not having, took a long journey to the sea to collect rocks and a jar of sand on his day off all because the prince had said to the librarian, one of the only people he conversed with, that he longed to go there. the knight had been seated at a table a few aisles over, pretending to read his knights’ handbook, as he often was.

he left notes with all of his gifts in his best attempt at courtly script, though he knew how bad it was compared to the prince’s elegant hand. he wrote little phrases that he hoped sounded charming, romantic, instead of creepy. these roses may be beautiful, but they have nothing on you. these stories could not possibly be greater than anything you might come up with. the beaches are just like you to me: breathtaking, untouchable, perfect. the one difference between the beaches and the prince was that the beaches were terribly difficult to reach. the prince was impossible.

these notes were never signed, there would be no point, if the prince even recognized his name.

the knight usually left his gifts at the prince’s door in the mornings just before he had to go to early training, and he’d only once been able to watch the prince find his gifts. that one time was burned into his memory, something precious and holy that still took his breath away to think about.

the knight had woken late after staying up all night preparing his next gift, and scrambled to get ready, knowing his commander would have his hide at morning training. perhaps to delay the inevitable a little longer, he’d stopped at the prince’s doorway on the way, the only royal apartment not guarded at all times. he wasn’t deemed important enough, he didn’t have any servants, either.

the knight had placed the wood box with the straps in them in front of the door, arranging his note so it faced the doorway, when he heard shuffling inside. he’d quickly hidden around the corner, heart beating quick. that’d never happened before. he’d never been almost caught. no one was up as early as the knights were. he was always gone thirty minutes before the prince was even awake, or so he assumed. today his lie in made him catch the prince coming out of his apartments.

it had occurred to him in that moment he didn’t know what the prince did with his gifts. he’d never seen the roses or the jar of sand or the books with the prince. he’d never even seen the inside of the prince’s rooms. he’d never even spoken to the prince. the prince could just be scoffing and throwing his gifts out the window, crumpling the notes, debating telling the knights that he had a stalker. the knight had turned his head, knowing he wouldn’t be able to bear knowing if that was what the prince truly did, but the door opened before he could run away. he was forced to watch, helpless, as the prince tripped on the box.

“another one?” the prince murmured, his back to the knight as he bent to pick it up. the knight held his breath when the prince straightened up and he saw the prince was smiling, in a soft, subtle way unlike the wide grins of his relatives. was it just the sunlight, or were the prince’s cheeks growing red? the knight choked on a breath.

the prince adjusted the coat he always wore, a sky blue with a white fur interior, and cradled the box gently as he opened the lid. he held the note between his teeth as he examined the leather straps and buckles, much like a belt, with furrowed eyebrows. he set the box down to read the note, which said, i wish i could carry your books for you, but here is this instead, so that your arms do not get so tired. the prince could cinch a stack of books up with the straps and carry the loop like a bag. the knight knew how annoying it was to shove books in and out of bags. he’d used straps like these for years.

he’d been bolder with this note, mentioning himself for the first time. it had apparently gone over well, as the prince smiled again and brought his new gift inside his room, into which the knight finally snuck a glance. he saw a writing desk in front of a window, the jar of sand, the books he’d given the prince, before he made his escape. he did indeed get his hide figuratively whipped at training that morning, but it was more than worth it,

what had made the knight fall for the prince, someone so helplessly unreachable, someone who would never love him back? why did he neglect his duties and loyalties to the proper royals in favor of daydreaming about the prince, about showering him in the attention he deserved but never got, protecting him, kissing the back of his hand? well, the prince was breathtaking, with rich brown hair that shone gold in the sun, the loveliest brown eyes, the smoothest milky skin, long delicate fingers and trimmed nails. he was pretty, no, beautiful, the opposite of the knight, who was tall and sandy haired and a strong knight, a good fighter, but one who knew how to serve. just not the people he was supposed to.

the prince was a head shorter than the knight, which opened up all sorts of doors regarding how nicely he would fit in the knight’s arms, safe from the world, easy to protect. he was passionate and talented and had a brilliant mind, but simply because he’d been born two years after his brother, he was passed over, left to himself, without any companions but his books. the knight wanted to give him the world, and he would do it however he could, at whatever cost to himself.

one day, there came invaders from the south, with an army who matched the king’s own. the king and the crown prince assured all that things would be fine and under control, but the knight knew that this would never be the case. the royals were confident of success, the knight’s fellows were nervous but excitedly preparing for battle, and the knight’s prince hadn’t changed at all, still spending his days in the library, where the knight spent every moment he could in the aisles across from him.

the king gave a speech the morning of the battle, when his scouts had seen the enemy close to the royal castle. the king was too old and frail to fight, but his son wasn’t, their golden jewel that every knight drooled over, with his white toothed grin and his muscles and his red cloak and warhorse. the king beamed with pride as he sent his son and his knights off, but the knight slipped away, something easy enough to do in a crowd that large, when everything was chaos no matter how much the king liked to pretend it wasn’t.

going back to the castle instead of going to fight for the king was technically treasonous, but all the knight could think of was the prince, alone in the castle, oblivious or uncaring to the danger he was in. he drew his sword, something he didn’t often wear since it got in the way but was well used to wielding, and climbed the staircases he’d just went down, retracing his steps subconsciously to the prince’s rooms.

he steeled himself outside of it and took a deep breath. he could already hear the sounds of battle in the distance, war cries and blades knocking against one another. he prayed for things to hold just a little bit longer.

he knocked on the prince’s door. when the prince opened it, he looked surprised to see the knight, a bit confused, confirming the knight’s suspicions he’d never even seen the knight before. his heart sank a little. the prince’s beauty was even more stunning up close, long eyelashes and a slight blush to his cheeks.

these were not the first words he’d thought he would say to his prince, he’d have preferred something romantic and charming, but that was a loss he could not mourn right now.

“i’m here to save you. come with me and i’ll protect you, i swear on my life.”

if you read all the way to the end, thank you. i’m going to post part 2 very very soon. this piece means a lot to me, as it’s the first thing i’ve written in months that i’ve been excited for, unable to stop. a mere hour before i started writing this i wondered if i would ever be able to write again, and then i had the most fun writing something i’ve had in a long, long time. this is a reminder to myself and everyone else to write whatever you want, and don’t turn down an impulse to write something you want to because it’s not relevant to your current wip or it’s stupid or anything your brain thinks. write!! life is too short. i had SO much fun writing this and you should write what you want too :)

#writing #writeblr #my writing #writing short #fantasy writeblr #lgbt fantasy #lgbt writing #lila's short stories

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cha-melodius · 4 years ago

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Napollya + 6, 34 or 60, if I'm not too late? ❤ (yeah look they are all very good and I couldn't narrow it down to just one, sorry LOL)

me: how nice of Ely to give three options also me: what if I wrote a story with all three???

Ok, so I didn’t get a “returned from the dead” kiss in this one, but that’s mostly because I JUST wrote one of those in a different wip, so you’ll get it soon enough. 😂 And you get bonus kissing in the rain, which I canNOT believe was not an option in the prompt list.

So here it is, Napollya + “I’m sorry” kiss + Throwing Their Arms Around The Other Person, Holding Them Close While They Kiss

Also find it on AO3

_________

It had been such a stupid argument.

How was he supposed to know that today happened to be a significant anniversary full of bad memories? How was he supposed to know that his usual level of friendly needling would set his partner off in a way he hadn’t seen since Rome? How could he have guessed that their verbal sparring—which, ok, he said some things he regrets—would have ended up with him pinned to the wall by his throat; certainly not any way he might have imagined being pinned to the wall by his partner.

Right. No point in thinking about that now.

Now Illya has been gone for hours after he stormed out of the safehouse and, more worryingly, the tracker that Napoleon had snuck onto him had gone dead. They aren’t just in the middle of a mission, they’re in the middle of a exceedingly tricky mission involving a highly volatile and dangerous target, leaving them all more on edge than usual. Add to that the unlucky timing of a cyclone bearing down on them, set to make landfall in Macau all too soon. So yes, Napoleon had gone after him without a second thought, tearing out of the safehouse like a bat out of hell, heedless of the rain already beginning to lash mercilessly down.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, ok?

It seems like less of a good idea now that he’s soaked to the bone and the water is squelching in his ruined shoes as he hurries through the flooding streets. And who knows when he’ll be able to get back to Milan to commission a new pair. The area where Illya’s tracker had last transmitted from is deserted now; everyone has sought shelter from the storm at this point. Everyone except Napoleon. For all he knows, their target had managed to capture his partner, and his chances of finding any clues are rapidly washing away.

Still, it’s not like he can just give up. He squints down at the small receiver, which displays the last known location of the tracker, and follows the signal down the street. It’s a frustratingly normal road, lined with cute little shops and restaurants, now all closed and boarded up against the storm. Not exactly someplace that he’d expect a highly-trained spy to disappear. He’s nearly reached the exact spot when the receiver flickers and winks off, no doubt as waterlogged as Napoleon feels.

“Fuck,” he swears, barely audible even to himself over the wind and rain, and smacks the device futily against his palm a few times.

There’s nothing here. Of course there’s nothing here. It’s the middle of a goddamn tropical cyclone. He should probably see if he can find someplace to break into so he can ride out the worst of the storm, because it’s unlikely he’ll make it back to the safehouse at this point. A restaurant, maybe, so he can raid the kitchen for something to eat. Not that he’s particularly hungry; his stomach seems to have been replaced by a cold, bitter knot of fear and regret.

If only he’d laid off it this morning. If only he’d noticed the signs that this wasn’t a normal day. If only he’d gone after Illya sooner. If only, if only, if only. And now his partner is missing. He could be injured, or being currently tortured, or, or—

Abruptly Napoleon is nearly yanked off his feet when someone grabs his arm and hauls him bodily into an alley. He doesn’t yelp in surprise—he doesn’t—but it’s certainly a shock to be shoved up against a wall when he thought he was the only one on the street. It’s even more of a shock to see icy blue eyes staring back at him from beneath a soaked and dripping flat cap.

“Peril?” he gasps, hardly believing his eyes.

“What are you doing here, Cowboy?”

“Looking for you,” Napoleon yells over the wind and rain. “You never came back to the safehouse, and your tracker went dead.”

The corner of Illya’s mouth twitches upward at that. “Trackers and water do not mix very well, you know.”

“I can’t believe you, Peril. Why didn’t you come back before the weather got bad?”

Illya shrugs. “Didn’t think you’d care. Thought I would wait out the storm, maybe not get so wet.”

That makes Napoleon bark out a laugh. “So much for that,” he says, plucking at Illya’s soaked jacket.

“I was not until you decided to show up and stand in a typhoon,” Illya shoots back, but there’s no heat in his voice. He stares at Napoleon for a long moment, and he doesn’t really look angry anymore. Bemused at Napoleon’s sudden appearance, perhaps, and certainly aggreived by the weather, but not angry.

Abruptly Napoleon realizes how close Illya is standing, his body only inches away, practically boxing Napoleon against the wall. It’s no doubt just so that they hear each other over the howling wind, but it draws their tussle that morning to mind, of how close they’d stood then under very different circumstances. Now the proximity pulls Napoleon’s heart into his throat, and he recalls his partner’s earlier words.

“What do you mean, you didn’t think I’d care?”

Illya hums in response, looking away from Napoleon’s searching gaze, and it makes Napoleon wonder if there wasn’t something more behind Illya’s reaction to the fight this morning. He thinks back to the look on his partner’s face right before he’d left the house and realizes with a start that Illya hadn’t just been annoyed and angry at Napoleon’s words. He’d been hurt.

Fuck. Napoleon winces internally, kicking himself for being such an idiot. Well, there’s only one thing for it.

“Look, I’m sorry about this morning. I pushed it too far, and I should have known better,” he offers. Napoleon desperately wants to reach up and turn Illya’s head, to force his partner to meet his eyes, but it feels like a mistake. Still, he can’t just let this go. “C’mon, Peril. You’re my partner. My… my friend. Of course I fucking care,” he huffs, and then adds quitely, before he can stop himself, “probably more than I should.” Christ. Hopefully the wind swallowed that up before Illya could hear it. He wipes a hand over his face, a futile gesture in the storm. “You think I’m not going to worry when you disappear in the middle of a hurricane?”

“Typhoon,” Illya corrects automatically, and Napoleon can just see the corner of his mouth pull up in a small smile. He can’t help but chuckle at that, and it finally brings Illya’s face back up to look at him. “It’s ok, Cowboy. I am sorry too. You did not know, and instead of saying something, I snapped. It is… difficult for me, sometimes. I am not accustomed to sharing these days with others. With people I— I care about.”

There’s something heavy in Illya’s gaze, and Napoleon gets the feeling that there’s more to his words than it seems at first blush. For a moment the world dims around them—even the driving rain and the howling wind—and he is lost in the glacial blue depths of his partner’s eyes.

“I’m sorry Illya,” Napoleon breathes, and this time he’s not sure if it’s still an apology for what he did this morning, or for what he’s about to do now.

Before he can think better of it, he pushes forward, closing the narrow gap between them and sealing their mouths together. Illya is frozen in place, his lips cold and wet from the rain, and briefly Napoleon considers that this is probably the stupidest thing he’s ever done. Even more stupid than going out in the middle of a typhoon. But then, astoundingly, Illya is kissing him back, his lips parting to let Napoleon’s tongue slide into the heat of his mouth as his body presses forward, pinning Napoleon to the wall. And oh, this is everything he imagined, and nothing like he could have imagined at all.

Napoleon throws his arms around his partner’s waist, pulling him even closer, aching for the warmth of his body that’s radiating through their sodden clothes. One of Illya’s hands tangles in his hair as the other carefully cups his jaw, far more gentle than most would have ever guessed the Russian could be. It’s not a surprise to Napoleon, though, not anymore; Napoleon, who has seen those hands gingerly care for his partners’ wounds, who has seen them tenderly tuck a blanket around Gaby when she falls asleep on the plane (the first time he’d woken to find himself so tucked had been a bit of revelation), who has seen them delicately folding pierogi in a warm, cozy kitchen.

Which is not to say that Illya is not kissing him with enthusiasm. He sucks at Napoleon’s lips and licks past his teeth, and Napoleon has to admit he’s impressed. Of course Illya would be as good at this as he is at everything else. Napoleon would think it unfair that one man could be so talented in so many things, if he wasn’t currently the beneficiary of such talents. It makes him want to know what else Illya is secretly talented at, and the thought sends a warm tug of desire curling low in his stomach. It’s only exacerbated by the feeling of the long line of Illya’s body pressed tightly against his and the way their clothes are clinging to every part of them, leaving very little to the imagination.

Of course, at that point Illya moves on to suck and bite at the tender skin of Napoleon’s neck, and Napoleon’s resulting gasp ends with him sputtering through a mouthful of rain. Right. They are still standing outside in a tropical cyclone.

“Peril— ungh, Illya, wait—” Napoleon groans, trying to ignore the surge of disappointment that floods through him when Illya pulls back. “The weather. We should— gotta get out of this hurricane—”

“Typhoon,” Illya smirks wryly. “Typhoon, Christ, whatever. You have somewhere to shelter nearby?”

Illya nods, an unbelievably soft smile on his face, and leans in briefly to kiss him again. “This way, Cowboy.”

He takes Napoleon by the hand and leads him further down the alley to a side door that’s already unlocked. The light from the parts of the windows that aren’t covered is barely enough to illuminate the interior, but the space appears to be full of tables and long, plush booths. A restaurant, then. A moment later Illya’s lighter flares to life and he lights a small collection of candles that he’s apparently managed to scrounge up somewhere.

“Guess we’re spending the night here, then,” Napoleon says as he sits down in one of the booths, bouncing once on the cushion. “Could be worse.”

Illya grunts in agreement as he peels off his jacket and hooks his soaked hat over the back of a chair, and the way the warm glow of the candle light illuminates the thin shirt clinging to his torso makes Napoleon’s mouth go dry. Then Illya catches him staring and smirks knowingly.

“However shall we pass the time?” Napoleon asks, trying for smooth nonchalance and all but failing. All his charm and skill at seduction fleeing him in the face of something that matters.

Illya’s grin turns wolfish at that, and he stalks purposefully over to Napoleon before neatly straddling his lap. Without the distraction of the wind and rain the sensation is nearly overwhelming, so surely no one could blame him for the way his breath catches in his throat when Illya leans down, lips brushing the shell of Napoleon’s ear, and murmurs, “I have a few ideas.”

_________

I've never been blown by the winds of a hurricane Never been in a flood I've never been buried up to my neck in mud But I have fallen in love And that's enough Of a natural disaster for me

– “Natural Disaster” by Jeff Tweedy

#napollya #napoleon x illya #napoleon solo #illya kuryakin #tmfu #the man from uncle #the man from u.n.c.l.e.#my fic #asks and answers #prompted

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shintorikhazumi · 4 years ago

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Romero and Julie (Act I: Truths and Lies)

A/N: Thought of it while I was looking up K-on’s romeo and juliet episode and accidentally typed “Romero”.

...I know i have so many wips, but this will most likely be a 2-shot or a 3. It’s not going to drag on that long. I think... I believe...

... I think...

...5 chaps at most?

Also, this story is as sloppily written as that search prompt, so I apologize. (I keep writing romeo as romero for some reason.) I don’t know how to write anymore, it seems. Also, I didn’t reread this for checks. Sorry again. I just... yeeted this out as soon as the last word was in place. Anyway,

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows

Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which but their children's end naught could remove,

Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which, if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to me-

“I can’t believe the utter bullshit I’ve just read.”

“Lady Claudine!” Mahiru gasped, unable to believe the words she’d just heard coming from the noble lady sat across her.

“Oh, come now, Mahiru. You can’t tell me you actually like this piece of work?” Claudine sighed, shutting the book and placing it on the table. She stared at the cover a few minutes more before pushing it away from her in disgust.

“Hmm? I don’t get it. It is a piece? And it is a work?” Mahiru’s escort cocked her head to the side in confusion, giving Claudine a look that requested clarification.

“Dame Karen.” Claudine sighed, resting her elbows on the table and propping her head up in her hands. She ignored Mahiru’s wide eyes at her ill-mannered display and went on with her exchange with the female knight. “I’m saying it’s a terrible piece of work. Terribly inaccurate.”

“Ohhhhh. I get it.” Karen nodded, eyes wide, expression enlightened before it settled into a smile. “I think so too.”

“Right?!” Claudine thought her voice was a bit too enthusiastic there. Clearing her throat, she calmly reiterated. “Right? I actually had high expectations for this as many of the noble ladies I’ve come across recently have been flaunting their copies of the script. They even dubbed it as the ‘New Romance Bible of High Society’.” Claudine rolled her eyes. She would have made a gagging motion, but she was certain Mahiru would cry blood at that.

“Besides, I can’t believe they’d try to make a reference to my family name for such a piece, and even claim to have modeled the heroine after me when clearly, she is nothing like me.” Claudine continued to criticize. “Therefore, I have fair reason to dislike such a novel.”

“It’s not all that bad, is it?” Mahiru tried. “I managed to read up to half of it, and I believe it was alright.”

Claudine stared at her blankly. “I decided to give Junna the benefit of the doubt here, as she has been my long-time tutor and friend. I believe in her recommendations.” Claudine pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “So, I’ve read the book cover to cover.”

“Oh?”

“It was the worst decision I’ve ever made.” Claudine lamented. “Nana should have stopped her from picking up such a horrific title. I can’t believe she actually liked it enough to recommend it to me.”

“Maybe she thought it would be a nice read since it was about you?” Karen offered her opinion.

“Who would want to read about themselves in such a sad excuse of a tale?” Claudine played with her tea, swirling it in the cup. “Maybe if it was written more tastefully... Anyway, I can’t stand the book so maybe I’ll just give it away or use it for fire.”

“Madame Junna will feel sad to hear that, you know?” Mahiru sighed, taking a bite of her cake. “She might even cry.”

“No, she won’t.” Claudine chuckled with a wave of her hand, but then Junna’s face flashed a brief moment in her mind, and it made her pause in thought. “...right?” She wasn’t so sure all of a sudden.

“Lady Claudine... she sulked for three days when she’d heard you laughed during one of the most tragic plays of our generation.” Mahiru deadpanned.

Claudine’s brows furrowed, unable to recall the events that Mahiru was referencing.

“Que?”

“Remember? We went to Brighton theatre the other day?”

“...”

“Brighton?”

“Karen! You were with us too, you know!”

“Ah-”

Mahiru looked to Claudine excitedly. It seemed as though she’d finally remembered.

“That comedy skit Junna recommended?”

“Again, it was tragedy!”

“The one where the main character got shot after being stupid enough to not take a shield after he was advised to? The ‘A sword is mightier than a pen, but the sword is my...’ my...” Claudine thought hard, struggling to find the right words in her memory. “Something or other.” She gave up.

“Kuro-chan!”

Claudine grinned at the nickname, pleased that she was able to rile Mahiru up another day.

“Okay, okay. Enough teasing, I know.” She laughed, patting her friend on the head and gaining a blooming blush in return. “You were just too lovely, I couldn’t help myself.” She flashed a charming smile that made Mahiru burn even hotter, and made Karen pout.

“This is why you’re so... and nobles keep... hrmmrrgghh...” She grumbled. “And yet you complain about being crowded and you....”

“What was that, Dame Karen?” Claudine chuckled, eyeing her friend with an amused look.

“Oh, nothing really, Duchess Claudine.” Karen fired back.

“Hey now, don’t go spreading lies, my dear knight.” Claudine frowned.

“I speak no lies, milady. Everyone knows that you are the one who has been handling estate affairs as of late.” Karen spoke seriously all of a sudden, irking Claudine secretly.

She didn’t want to think of those things right now.

Before Claudine’s mood sunk further, Karen- with a quick flip of a switch- had returned to pouting. “And I’m not your dear knight.”

Oh, Karen could be so perceptive, sometimes. Claudine gladly accepted the bail.

“I know.” Claudine smiled, half-grateful, half-teasing. “You are Mahiru’s, right?” Claudine wiggled her brows suggestively. Karen flushed hot red, and Claudine thoroughly drank in her new target’s vexation in enjoyment.

“Kuro-chan!!”

Claudine admired the twin tomatoes in front of her. Life had been a drag lately, but time with her friends always seemed to offset all of those.

“Oh right. And Hikari’s too.”

Claudine broke into hysterics at the display of flailing arms and incoherent half-yells of denial at the mention of her knight’s name. She swore she could physically see the steam coming off of the pair in front of her. Was it from anger, embarrassment, or both? Probably both, Claudine supposed.

“Kuro-chan, you are seriously so mean.” Karen whined, fanning her face uselessly as the heat showed no signs of subsiding.

Claudine wiped a tear from her eyes. She’d laughed so much her sides were beginning to hurt.

“I’m terrible, aren’t I?” She smiled.

“That you are, Milady.” A stoic voice suddenly inserted itself into their conversation.

Claudine found herself jolting in her seat at its proximity from behind her. Whipping her head around, she sighed in relief at the sight of her escort.

“Hikari! At least alert us sooner if you’ve arrived!” Claudine complained. Her heart beat strongly against the palm she’d rested against her chest in an attempt to calm herself.

“I have arrived, Milady.”

“No, like I said. Say that sooner!” Claudine huffed, settling back into her seat, leaning her head on her palm once more. Claudine spared a glance at Karen and Mahiru who were looking rather bashful, eyes averted from the newest arrival.

She covered her mouth with her hand to hide the growing smile on her face as her knight stared at the pair across them. Claudine patiently awaited the usual awkward interaction between her friends that she knew would play out soon. She counted the seconds off in her head, knowing exactly when the first move would be made.

3... 2... 1-

Like clockwork, Hikari faced Mahiru and Karen head-on, straightened her posture, and bent into a deep bow of greeting. “Lady Tsuyuzaki.”

“Dame Kagura. It’s a pleasure to see you once more” Mahiru responded calmly.

However, Claudine caught the way Mahiru’s brow twitched. Her displeasure was skillfully hidden behind that gentle smile she’s known for forever, but Claudine would like to believe she’s adept enough at deciphering the true meaning behind Mahiru’s masks called grace.

She internally shook her head, hoping Mahiru could soon find the freedom to be free from the expectations laid on the lady known as ‘High Society’s Saintess’, and be able to express emotions outside of simple joy, kindness, or sympathy.

Turning to the other knight, Claudine waited for what Karen’s reaction for today would be. She had a variety for different days. Sometimes it was openly voicing her disappointment, and other times it was a response just as curt and detached as Hikari’s.

“Dame Ai-”

“Karen!” The owner of the name interrupted. “Just Karen. Karen is fine... H-Hikari...”

Oh? Today was a little more bold, Claudine noted. Usually Karen would only politely request the other knight to refer to her by her given name, even if it bore her title. This was a fresh attempt. Now, how would her dear knight react?

“Dame Karen.” Hikari stated blankly, completely unfazed by the hiccup in her usual greeting routine.

Claudine lightly slapped Hikari’s arm-earning her a confused yelp- before throwing Karen and Mahiru a consoling smile; one that told them there was always a next time to attempt to woo her clueless knight.

She watched Karen’s shoulders drop in a sigh, and Mahiru cover her relenting smile with her fan. She should talk to Hikari about this sometime again. For now, however...

“So? What goes on back at the manor?” Claudine took a sip of her tea that had now gone cold after she’d ignored it a while. With a minute flick of her finger, it grew warm in her hands and she smiled, hoping her friends hadn’t noticed.

She heard her knight groan from behind her. Quite a rare happening, to be frank. Hikari was usually very careful with her actions and reactions, so Claudine braced herself for some unpleasant news.

“Master Cyrille has finally arrived.” She reported dutifully.

Claudine somehow heard the frosty bite in her tone. It was understandable. Cyrille was her elder brother of four years, and the heir apparent to their household.

-Or that was how it was supposed to be.

He and Hikari never really got along after- ehem- certain incidents had taken place a few years ago. Those incidents also happened to be part of the reason why his successorship was being reconsidered at present.

“How did Pa- Father react?” Claudine caught herself before her small childish habit would be revealed.

Hikari scratched her cheek, another nervous habit of hers that Claudine had learned about after years of being together. “They had the usual debate. Right as he arrived.”

That was expected. Claudine knew something like that would happen. So why was Hikari so bothered.

“The young master came onto the premises yelling right away from the gate about being the rightful heir or something along those lines.”

This too was within Claudine’s foresight.

“I can’t believe he’s making a fuss on foreign land. We’re not here to start a war, we’re here as representatives of a peace treaty.” Claudine shook her head in disappointment.

Her family, the Capulets, had hailed from the Western empire and had been residing for a few months on Eastern lands. After hundreds of years of warring with the east, they had experienced the first fifty years of a truce. Finally, the two empires had decided to build friendly relations to completely cease all the needless battles between them. After fifty years of an ambiguous standstill, the emperors had finally decided to send forth representatives to celebrate the golden year of peace between them and cement the alliance of the nations.

As the grand ducal household located at the border of the empires, their family had naturally been selected. This was also the West’s acclaimed ‘reward for service in battle’ to their family who had always fought to protect the precious border.

Yes, all that struggle in history, and her brother might just be the one to render it all useless in one fell swoop.

Not that it would have been the first time.

“Anything else, Hikari?” Claudine could feel her headache coming on.

“They argued in the study.”

“I figured.”

Hikari still radiated nervous energy, and Claudine just had to wonder why. “What are you not telling me yet, Hikari?”

“... Master Cyrille kept pressing that he was the rightful hair to the Dukedom... then Your Grace was angered and said that... that...”

“Hikari?”

“You’re not going to like it.” The knight warned.

“Obviously not.” Claudine replied flatly. “From how you are at this moment, I’ve already figured that out.”

“The Grand Duke said he’d rather make you the heir... instead of Young Master Cyrille... so he wishes to speak with you back at the estate.”

Claudine’s eyes widened. She knew there was a possibility that this outcome would arise. She just didn’t think it was that possible. She had already voiced her stance on this in the past to her father. She was not willing to take over their family as head. She had other plans in life. Plans of freedom and of adventure; she had other desires that were probably not suited for a woman carrying royal blood.

Yet she longed for that particular life. Thus, she could not be the Duke’s successor. She’d suggested that her father give the title to their youngest sibling instead who was seven years her junior.

He might not be ready now, but he could still be groomed to be the perfect candidate in the future. She was sure Gabriel could do it, irresponsible as she may sound at that moment, pushing it all onto the child.

“Kuro-chan?”

Mahiru’s tender voice reminded Claudine that her friends were still there, quite worried that she’d suddenly froze on the spot.

“My apologies, Mahiru.” She got up, bowing deeply. “I know you’ve gone out of your way to prepare all of this for me, but-”

“Hey.” Claudine felt a warm hand on her cheek, guiding her to stand back up. Mahiru’s gaze was kind as it always was, full of tender empathy. “Go. A few tea and biscuits aren’t going to go to waste just because you’re not around.”

Claudine managed a small smile, taking Mahiru’s hand into her own two.

“You have Karen anyway.”

“Exactly.”

“Hmm? What about me?”

The two young ladies laughed at their inside joke for a few moments before embracing one another goodbye.

Karen had offered one to Claudine as well, and she gladly accepted.

After being sent off with the best of regards and well-wishing, Claudine tried to not think on her dread the entire carriage ride home.

She just knew it was going to be a messy affair.

//-//-//-//-//

“Claudine.”

“Your Grace.”

The Grand Duke heaved a sigh, gesturing for his daughter to take a seat across from him. “I take it you’ve already heard from Hikari?” At the nod of Claudine’s head, he sighed once more. “I’m really sorry about that. I am aware that you do not wish to get involved in such dealings. However, I didn’t have much else to say. I could not think of any other argument at that moment.”

Claudine could see the exhaustion built up in her father. She felt bad for being so insistent on her own wants that she’d possibly pushed him up against a wall. However, she could not deny that this was the only path she was willing to take.

Taking her father’s hands and planting a kiss on them, she reassured him. “I understand, papa.”

“Claudine...”

“I am also at fault, anyway. I know you’re being pressured by the Royal family into a succession ceremony soon, and yet... I’m adding onto your troubles.”

“I just- I don’t understand why they are so adamant on it... yet at the same time I know why.” Duke Capulet’s expression turned stern. “I suspect this is the first prince’s doing.”

“Paris?”

The duke nodded, clearly unhappy at the mention of the name. “I don’t understand why your brother went against my guidance to not associate with him. The second prince would make a far better friend, as well as future ruler.” His frown deepened. “And yet, that imbecile, Cyrille...”

Duke Capulet brought Claudine’s hands to his forehead, bowing before his daughter.

“After all that fool, Paris, had done to you...”

Claudine shuddered at the memory of her days at the academy and the forceful ‘courtship methods’ of the first prince. Had her father been a different man, she feared she would have been long-engaged to such a twisted brat who hid behind a cunning smile and the power of the crown.

He was sure never to push too far, or too dangerously, but Claudine knew he was bordering terrible, terrible deeds. She was just glad she was far away from him now.

“Claudine.”

Her father lifted his head up, eyes saddened, but commanding in a sense as they stared into Claudine’s own. Claudine immediately knew that his next words would be incredibly important, that they would be of the utmost value to her and her life, as well as their entire household’s. She just knew that their weight would be something she would have to endeavor to bear for everyone’s sake.

She knew because he rarely ever asked her of anything that she did not desire. She knew that something must have happened to allow the Grand Duke to tremble in this way, before his nineteen-year-old daughter, with a gaze that was begging her to comply.

“You have to get married.”

//-//-//-//-//

Claudine swung her sword, ridding the area of the final beast and collecting its glowing core off the puddled ground. Handing the gem-like item to Hikari for safe-keeping, she slumped against a tree, sinking to the ground that dirtied her pants with mud that had formed from the night’s rain.

“Are you hurt, milady?” Hikari inquired, already rushing forward to do a thorough body-check for any injuries on Claudine.

“Nothing of the sort. Also, I told you not to address me that way while we’re out adventuring. What if someone found us out?” Claudine ran a hand through her damp bangs, grimacing at the repulsive feel and smell of blood and grime in her hair.

“My apologies.”

Times like these, Claudine wished she hadn’t focused too much on learning combat spells back then. She should have taken the foundational classes with Nana more seriously, and looked into metamorphosis magic sooner. She wouldn’t have to worry about issues such as being discovered then.

Better to start late then never, she supposed. She could only manage to change her hair and eye color, as well as clothes for a small amount of time for now, but she was working on changing her entire appearance for extended periods soon. Then she and Hikari could go off on any journey or mission without being recognized.

“Claudine?”

The soft calling made her smile. It was rare for her knight to address her so casually, and even rarer was the tenderness she allowed to escape in her voice. Claudine placed a hand on Hikari’s head, petting it lightly.

“Yes, Hikari?”

“Do you not want to get married, Claudine?”

The question wasn’t what she had expected. She hadn’t even told Hikari about her current situation yet. She must have listened in on the conversation secretly.

“If my dad had caught you...” Claudine laughed at the realization, shaking her head.

Hikari remained silent.

Claudine scratched her cheek, looking away from the knight’s expectant gaze. “It’s not as though I don’t want to.” She admitted. “I just...”

“Just?”

“I haven’t found a person I’d like to share that kind of joy with yet.” Claudine spoke with a loneliness to her tone that they both weren’t quite familiar with. “I haven’t gotten to know anyone who makes me want to experience that kind of relationship.”

Hikari didn’t seem to understand fully, but she nodded nonetheless. “Okay.” She decided not to push further, noticing her master’s discomfort. Instead, she held out a hand to aid her up on her feet.

“Thank you, Hikari.” For the assistance and for listening, Claudine said in her heart. “Shall we head back to the guild now? Wouldn’t want Cyrille to barge into my room first thing tomorrow morning and find it empty.” Claudine half-joked.

If Claudine knew her brother, which she did, she knew he’d have searched for her at the dinner table tonight already, but her father had likely made an excuse to keep him out of her hair ‘til morning. She already knew that he would want to speak to her on matters regarding the prince, or succession, or whatever it was he did that was likely no good.

If he ever got into Claudine’s room without supervision, she was afraid he’d stumble upon things he wasn’t supposed to, and would likely use it against her.

Her conversation with her father resurfaced in her mind. His words on finding a suitable partner, a suitor, and the reasons behind it were invasive, consuming her every thought.

Cyrille was trying to set her up with Prince Paris for some reason. He was willing to pull all stops to do so. It seemed that he had went ahead and made a proposal to the royal family under the authority of ‘Heir-apparent’ to the Capulet Dukedom. He’d sworn that once he was made Duke, she’d be married off into the imperial household as a way to strengthen the standing and influence of the emperor.

Whatever he had been promised to make him act so selfishly and vilely, Claudine didn’t even want to know.

As of now, he held no real power over her father. Neither did the first prince, in reality. Deep down, however, both Claudine and the Grand Duke knew there was more to this arrangement than two boys and their greedy egos being fed. He feared for the future.

With all they had already gotten away with in the past, Duke Capulet was suspecting that someone else held the strings to the puppets dancing to a tune. They had yet to know what gears were turning in a suspected grand scheme, but it must not come to pass. This was what their family feared the most, and why Claudine must not get involved with Paris.

In order to have a valid reason to reject such a candidate, she needed a better one. That was the part she had to play.

There was just one small problem-

“You there!”

A voice echoed through the shadow and mist of the forest, horse hooves stomping rapidly against the wet ground. Quickly, Claudine brandished her sword, pointing it in the direction from whence it came. “Hikari! Get behind me!” She commanded, left hand twitching in anticipation.

“Now see here, Milady. I’m the protector suppo-”

“Don’t move! Stay where you are and drop your weapons.” The voice commanded, a silhouette beginning to form in the distance.

“Like hell we’ll listen.” Claudine grumbled, sword still at the ready with a glow that traveled from its hilt to its blade.

“I’m warning you!” The voice echoed once more. “State your name and your business here. And don’t even think of trying to fight or escape.”

Claudine fixed her glare on the figure coming into the light of the clearing they were at, magic barely finishing its work of turning her hair black as Hikari’s shifted into a shorter cut. It was the best she could do at such short notice. Hopefully the night would be kind enough to be their mask and they wouldn’t be recognized afterwards should they escape successfully.

“Again, I order you to state your names and your business here, strangers. Are you not aware that these grounds belong to the imperial family?” The powerful stomping halted right in front of the women, a sharp huff from the steed sending them reeling back in disgust.

Finally, underneath the gaze of the moon, a figure cast in stardust light appeared before them, hooded cloak hiding the identity of the horseman.

“Who are you.”

Claudine continued to glower at the newcomer, unrelenting as she kept her lips tightly shut. Who was this person? Why had they suddenly been approached? This place was supposedly a mission ground for adventurers and hunters hoping to earn their keep by clearing out the ghouls and demons that infested this uninhabited land.

“Who. Are. You-”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Claudine spoke levelly through grit teeth, ready to slash at any given time should the newcomer move in a threatening pattern. “We’re only here on quest. Adventurers if you will.”

The cloaked man dismounted and walked up to Claudine, staring a few inches down at her. “Is that so?”

Claudine hated that he was even trying to intimidate her. Placing a firm hand on his chest, she pushed him away somewhat gently, not really wanting to potentially aggravate the already-tense situation. “Yes. That is so.” She confirmed, scowling. “For us at least. But what about you?”

Claudine eyed the man, watching for any suspicious movements. He returned the gaze, looking her up and down, searching her expression for signs of dishonesty. He seemed to have found nothing as his aura of hostility calmed drastically, and he sighed.

“I’m an imperial guard, patrolling.” As he said that, a sword was raised, still sheathed. Claudine was shown the imperial seal on the scabbard and she relaxed somewhat as the guard backed off with a small bow. “As I’ve mentioned before, these grounds are under the jurisdiction of the imperial household.”

“Apologies, sir. However, we were unaware of this fact as this place has been a known hotspot for adventurers for many years- or so we’ve heard.” Claudine explained, now sheathing her own sword.

“I understand.” The guard nodded. “I also apologize. While your statement held truth in the past, as of recent, this forest has been deemed more unsafe than it used to be. It’s not just magical beasts or ghouls that lurk these shadows now. Reports of spies, terrorists, and bandits trying to enter the capital via a newly discovered route through the woods have been reported, so we are at high alert.”

Claudine hummed, taking in their current situation. “I see.” Claudine nodded, agreeing to his words. She had expected these kinds of threats to arise as the peace treaty ceremony approached and more nobles from both empires flocked to the main city. It was an opportune moment to spark disaster, and even a civil war.

Good on the west to take quick measures.

“As such, I must ask for your identities to ensure the safety of all.”

Not so good for Claudine.

“I, er-”

“As you are adventurers- and I, of course, believe in your words, I would just like to see your identifications and know your names. It’s a quick process then I can let you go. That is... if you have nothing to be suspected of.”

Truthfully, she shouldn’t be as nervous as she suddenly was at the moment. However, there were a few issues with that request. For one, no one but Hikari, the Grand Duke, and the Head Guild Master of the Eastern Empire knew of her being an adventurer. She had been registered under special circumstances that had been agreed upon, and her issued permit in order to accept quests in the west was also an unorthodox arrangement, and very much a secret one.

When she’d first arrived at the guild hall, she was given an identification badge that also served as her permit like the rest of the adventurers. However, this did not contain her name at all. Instead, it only contained her registration code and where she had come from.

As a law-abiding citizen for the most part, she hadn’t ever needed to do much besides flashing the shiny trinket from a distance at other guards in passing.

This time, however, was different. She was certain that it would be scrutinized and most definitely questioned.

“You sure are taking an awful lot of time to simply identify yourself.” The stranger’s tone of voice was still calm, but his aura had shifted noticeably. “Is anything the matter?”

“No, not at all.” Claudine responded, proud that she’d managed to keep her voice steady. Reaching into her polo, she pulled out the chain that held her badge, presenting it to the imperial guard, praying that he wouldn’t check it as thoroughly as she’d feared.

“Um, excuse me. Why isn’t your name imprinted on it?”

‘Damn it.’

“Allow me to come clean.” Claudine spoke, instantly regretting her choice of words. It made her sound like she actually was someone to be wary of. She should conjure some believable alibi at least.

“Milady-” Hikari stepped forward, but was blocked with that same imperial-branded sword from earlier.

“It’s alright.” Claudine reassured before her knight could retaliate. One wrong move and they could actually be in jeopardy. Not only them, but the entire event of a peace treaty could lay to waste if they were not careful and would get found out.

“Go on.” Was the command.

“I’m actually...” Claudine licked her suddenly dry lips, thinking of how to say it. “I’m a daughter of a noble, and I’m operating under... rather private conditions.”

Okay, she hadn’t meant to be that truthful. If at all.

“How can I believe such a tall claim?” The cloaked man stepped closer to Claudine, now incredibly suspicious. “To which family do you belong?

Claudine had no time to secure a valid name, speaking the first that came to mind. “Sa-Saijou.” Another truth that would surely deepen her dug grave.

“Saijou? As in the Marquess Saijou?” She could almost shrink under that examining gaze. “I’ve never heard of or seen you before though.”

“I- I’m not his child, no. I’m a niece and I’ve been staying with relatives in the west. It was an arrangement made when I was very young, and I have only since been allowed to return here.”

‘Damn me and my inability to lie.’

“I’m sorry, as much as I’d like to believe you, I’ll have to take you with me for some questioning.”

No, no, no. This was not good. Claudine couldn’t risk more people prying into her identity. Also, she could feel the strain of her magic that was about to undo itself. She couldn’t keep up appearances- quite literally- for much longer.

“If you would come quietly.”

They had to bail.

“I’m sorry, but we-”

Suddenly, an arrow flew right by her head, barely grazing her cheek as sounds of multiple hooves and wolf-like growls filled the forest.

“Tsk.”

“Milady!”

“Stand back, you two.” The guard moved in front of them, sword drawn and aimed towards the origin of the arrow and sounds. Quickly, those same sounds began to shift and spread, as if circling them.

Claudine and Hikari quickly drew out their own swords, as the former launched a quick area check spell discreetly.

‘Twenty? No, thirty. Thirty men on horseback... at least ten hunting wolves.’

As Claudine weighed their situation, a harsh gust of wind came hurtling towards them, the hood on the imperial guards cloak coming off, revealing long brunette locks tied up in a ponytail.

The sight of such smooth strands on which the moon’s beams bounced off so gently almost made Claudine forget the gravity of their situation, eyes bewitched- captured- by stunning violet gems that she couldn’t believe she’d failed to take notice of before.

“It seems they have a mage in their midst.” The knight, now fully facing Claudine, addressed them. “I’m sorry to ask this of you after having suspected you; and while I still doubt your credibility, I would like to shamelessly enlist your assistance as of the moment.”

There was something in his gaze, in his entire beautiful expression, that compelled Claudine to know more, to say yes, to help him.

“Truly, you are quite shameless.” She grinned, head held high. “I would have done so without you asking.”

The smile she was rewarded with sent her heart into a frenzy. It wasn’t a handsome grin, no. Claudine took note that under the moonlit night, this man oozed a dignified beauty that was quickly distracting her from her mission at hand.

“You have my gratitude.”

Claudine nodded, willing herself to not stare for longer than necessary as she and Hikari took stance.

With their backs to each other, they stood in wait, counting down the seconds to their adversaries’ arrival. Claudine sighed ruefully as she felt her transformation spell fade, this instance confirmed as she glanced over at a now long-haired Hikari. She could just feel questioning eyes burning their gaze into her golden hair.

She was not looking forward to having to explain this too.

“What.” She spat, meeting the stare of her temporary ally, hoping no questions would come right now.

“Oh nothing. Just wanted to tell you something.”

“And that is?”

As she said that, gruff looking men arrived in the clearing, their disgusting smirks clearly indicated that they were looking down on the small group they’d surrounded.

Claudine was beginning to feel irritated. She hated being underestimated.

She barely caught the grin thrown her way as the guard launched himself at the group. She did, however, receive every single insulting word of challenge.

“Don’t hold me back now, Little Miss.”

Oh it was on,

“Insufferable asshole.”

//-//-//-//-//

Claudine did not frequent pubs. They weren’t her type of hangout spots. And while she wasn’t one for leisure cafe dates or tea parties with the other noble ladies, she did love the peace of libraries and the refreshing mountain creeks.

Needless to say, this place intimidated her more than any imperial guard could hope to.

“Not a good drinker?”

It wasn’t that. It really wasn’t.

If anything, both Claudine and Hikari were strong drinkers. Just not... public drinkers, she supposed.

“No.” Claudine sighed, taking a seat across the pretty man- damn, he was beautiful. Claudine would have almost mistaken him for a woman. He was tall, but not much taller than Claudine, and his voice wasn’t all too deep, so maybe she wasn’t wrong. Maybe.

“Then what has you so down, milady?” His tone of voice was playful, and Claudine knew she was being teased. He probably still didn’t believe in her whole ‘secret-noble-adventurer’ story.

“I’m just tired.”

“Hoh? Already? From that little excursion?”

Claudine growled, pounding the table with her fist. “Well, if someone would have just stayed out of my way while we were fighting earlier then-”

“Now, now. Don’t go blaming someone else for these kind of things, Young Miss. How are you ever going to survive as an adventurer if you blame others for your mistakes? Being able to take responsibility for one’s self is one of the most important traits in the field.”

Claudine clicked her tongue. She knew she was purposely being toyed with. “Shut up.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Miss.”

“And why the hell not?” Claudine’s glare went ignored as the man waved over a server to place an order.

Turning to her with that same smug smile that was equal parts gorgeous and incredibly annoying, the guard spoke. “Because I want to get to know you better.”

Claudine scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Starting with your names.” He clasped his hands together, resting his chin atop them. “I at least believe you are of some noble descent. If the silence of your companion, and her respect towards any of your earlier actions and decisions hold any significant hint to that.”

“Glad you’re at least that sharp.” Claudine huffed, putting up a mask to hide her inner thoughts that were struggling to come up with some alias for both her and Hikari.

“So. Names.”

Anything. Anything.

“J-Julie!”

Curse that damn book and the sudden memory of it!

Claudine inwardly cried as she gave away that piece of false information, even screwing up the actual name she was supposed to use.

“Julie... Saijou.” The brunette looked at her skeptically, but nodded. Somehow accepting it for now. “And your companion is?”

“She’s-”

“Kagura Hikari.”

“Hikari?!” Claudine whipped her head about in shock. So much for discretion! Just what was this girl thinking?!

“I’m sorry, Milady. But I think it is in our best interests to be as honest as possible.” Hikari bowed apologetically to Claudine before turning to her fellow knight, face blank and giving nothing away. “I am uncertain if you’ve heard of such details, but the Saijou’s have long since had ties with the Capulet family of the Western empire.”

Claudine covered her face with her hands, now groaning into her palms. She could only hope this wouldn’t ruin her already fragile freedom and put their positions at risk.

“They are the relatives milady has mentioned before. Her aunt married into the family, you see.”

Ah, so that was how Hikari was going to play it.

Well, maybe it wasn’t a bad excuse. Claudine believed the knight was considering any future encounters with the imperial guard since they would be attending palace events soon.

She spared the guard a glance, and was surprised to see that he actually looked to be convinced of those words. Not that they were much of a lie in the first place.

“I see! I understand. My apologies then.”

Claudine held back her sigh of relief, not wanting to give even the slightest thing away anymore.

“Yes, that’s it.” She said, trying to add onto their story. “And about the identification badge... well... you wouldn’t really expect any noble children, much less ladies, join an adventurer guild and all that.”

“I suppose so.” The guard chuckled.

Soon, their drinks had arrived, and Claudine found herself staring into the golden liquid the man across from her was downing to keep her eyes of his too pretty face, a question nagging on her mind.

“And you?”

“Hmm?” Placing his glass down, he gave her a curious, yet smug smile. “What about me?”

Somehow, Claudine wanted to wipe it off his stupid face.

“We gave you our names and background. It’s only common courtesy to introduce yourself properly in return, is it not?”

His growing grin was really pissing her off.

“Right, of course. Excuse me for my rudeness since earlier.”

“No kidding.” Claudine complained, waiting rather impatiently for his information. Not that she’d ever remember it, much less use the knowledge for any future plans. No. Not at all.

Not even for that.

“Hmm, well you could call me Romero.”

Romero.

Really, now. Romero?

Again, that damn book was really trying to force its way into Claudine’s thoughts. She internally cringed at the association.

“Romero. Of course that’s your name.” She rolled her eyes, not believing it for even one second. “You certainly look like a ‘Romero’.” She stated sarcastically. ‘Romero’ here looked as eastern as eastern gets.

“You wound me, Lady Julie. Can’t a man adapt a name of different culture simply because it suits him this much?”

“I didn’t say anything against it.” Claudine waved, taking a sip from her drink. It was cold, a little bitter. She liked it.

“Your expression says all there needs to be said.”

Claudine smirked, leaning across the table. “Oh? I’m glad it does then. Sir Romero.”

The man’s eyes glinted in amusement as he leaned forward as well. Claudine huffed. So this is how they were going to play it.

“So, Lady Julie. I said I’d like to get to know you.”

Claudine nodded. “Know all you want, then.”

“You say that so easily, but are you sure?” Really, this man unnerved her like no one else. His gaze was piercing, yet dull. It was clear, but betrayed no thoughts nor intentions of his.

Claudine nodded again, but a little less confident now.

“Then, if I may be so bold as to ask,” Romero began. “What business do you have here in the capital? Besides the whole peace treaty, I suppose. If I recall correctly, it is not a requirement for all nobles to attend, and I know the property of both the Saijou’s and Capulet’s are a ways away from here.”

Claudine swallowed a lump in her throat, wondering what she should say. “Isn’t it the greatest honor for any noble to be able to claim that they stood as personal witness to the changing of times?”

What a generic answer.

Bless Junna’s etiquette lessons that were coming to fruition.

“Ehh, how boring~”

Somewhat.

“Be that as it may, it’s the truth.” Claudine raised her glass back up to her lips, taking in more of that golden liquid.

“Is that so? Just that? Nothing else?” Romero pressed.

“That’s all I’m willing to divulge, Sir Romero.” Claudine said sternly, eyes ordering him to back down. Even for an imperial knight, wasn’t this a little too impudent?

“Fair, fair.” Romero responded, hands up in the air in surrender. “I must have overstepped my boundaries. My apologies.”

Claudine downed her drink, ignoring him for a moment.

“I’m simply curious. And to think, for the sole purpose of this event, you went out of your way to get an adventuring permit for quests from the main guild when you might only be staying a short while.” Romero continued to seek her gaze, peskily grinning in wait. “As an imperial guard, I’m just concerned, milady. It’s part of the job.”

Claudine gave him a blank look. Romero seemed unfazed.

“I just need a few more details for my report, that’s all. Something to make your story believable enough to not be sought out by other guards who aren’t as kind and considerate as me.” He winked to accentuate his statement, and Claudine threw him a disgusted look.

“If you were the least bit as considerate as you claim to be, you’d have been quiet for the last hour.”

“Harsh words, Milady. I only want to kno-”

“Milady is here to get married.” Hikari slammed her mug on the table, pinning her gaze on the troublesome man. “Now that you know, stop bothering my master.”

“Hikari!” Claudine didn’t know whether she should be touched at the intervention, or frustrated at the reveal.

“What a loyal guardian.” Romero complimented with a grin. “You’re the kind of escort the imperial palace would love to have.”

It was almost as if he were holding out bait for Hikari to take. Claudine didn’t like it.

“Excuse me, but Hikari is-”

“I belong solely to my Master. I serve no one else but her. My loyalty has been sworn. Your words are kind, but they are not right. Not for me. I’m sorry.”

“Hikari...”

Romero and Hikari’s gazes remained locked in a contest, waiting for one or the other to crack first. Claudine watched on with concern. She hoped they wouldn’t get into any serious quarrel.

To her fortune, Romero finally broke. Broke into a fit of laughter, tears of amusement spilling that he quickly wiped away.

Claudine allowed herself to sigh in relief as she finally relaxed in her seat for the first time that night.

Romero finally calmed enough to begin talking again, much to Claudine’s chagrin. “Married. I see. Married, huh?”

Claudine narrowed her eyes at the amused man, scowl deep. “And what of it? Do you think I’m too unfit for such a maiden’s dream?” If he said yes, Claudine might just be tempted to chop a ball off or too. Tempting beauty of this man be damned. He should try to see if he could snag any lady after tonight.

“No, no. Nothing of that sword, Milady.” He smiled, settling down and emptying the remaining contents of his cup. “Just... Who is the lucky fellow to have caught such a strong-hearted beauty such as yourself?”

Claudine actually blushed at his words this time. Though she did curse her heart for being swayed so easily like that, and by this insufferable man, no less.

“There is... no man... or anyone at all.” She managed to say through grit teeth, slightly embarrassed at that truth that she had about zero suitors coming for her.

She was surprised to see that Romero looked genuinely surprised. It wasn’t some faux, mocking expression. He seemed sincerely shocked at the reveal that Claudine was as single as the lonesome sun in the daytime.

“No one?”

“Not one.”

“For someone as charming as you?” He blinked those big, violet eyes, honest and innocent-looking for once.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, good sir.” Claudine chuckled, actually finding Romero more endearing than annoying at that moment. A shocker for herself.

“I just can’t believe that no one would approach you or ask you. You.” He gestured towards her. “You’re appearance is definitely a win, but more-so is your personality.” He openly praised Claudine. “You are a lovely being. I’m not saying this shallowly. I truly mean every word, Milady.”

Claudine felt her heart warm a little at that.

True, she’s heard those words before from close friends and family. Said in a particular way that she just knew was honest. However, they knew her. They knew Claudine and how she really was. As for the other noble men and women she’d met, they had always seemed to presume things about her based on rumor and first impressions, never attempting to truly know Claudine enough to say compliments that Claudine could think to consider as truthful.

Empty laud, frivolous words, backstabbing comments.

A beautiful face, they said. A cunning mind. A brash personality, an unladylike disposition.

Claudine never claimed they were false, but they weren’t exactly accurate.

Just like that dumb book.

Why did Claudine feel so moved all of a sudden. It wasn’t as though Romero had said much more than others, now that she thought about it. She’d probably have already heard those utterances before. So why?

Was it his tone? The way he looked straight into her eyes with an unguarded sincerity?

Before Claudine could find the answers to her internal queries, the door to the pub burst open, a group of men tossing over tables, and harassing the nearest bar patrons, in search of something or someone.

Romero got up from the table, as did Hikari and Claudine, hands already on their swords, ready to swing.

Claudine’s eyes met with one of the men in front, and something seemed to click in the air.

A finger was raised and pointed right at her.

“Them.”

And they charged.

“Hikari!”

“Yes, Milady.”

The knight moved swiftly, positioning herself in front of Claudine to ward off those who targeted her master, buying Claudine time as she tried to infuse as much magic as she could into her sword and limbs. She didn’t have enough mana for an entire body enhancement as she’d used a fair amount up during the earlier hunts, disguise, and fights. She knew she had barely enough to spare. Just enough to hopefully end this.

She prayed it was enough.

Romero seemed busy as well, sword clashing against spear and blades, shields and armor.

He should be fine. Claudine couldn’t spare him much worry if she had to worry about herself first.

Other patrons had also joined in the fray, but it was clear that there was a difference in the power the intruders held.

With her amplifications complete, Claudine readied herself, and in one motion, swooped past a flurry of enemies, knocking them to the ground before a new wave could approach her.

Were these also among those that Romero had mentioned? Terrorists who had actually managed to enter the city? This wasn’t good. They needed to subdue them before more damage could be done.

Where were the other imperial guards anyway? Why was Romero even patrolling alone with such a dangerous agenda at hand?

She didn’t have time to entertain any of those questions, she decided. Claudine knew she had to focus on what was happening right now. Those could be saved for later.

Focus.

Foc-

“Julie.” Romero called.

Claudine almost forgot that that was her name at the moment, barely managing to send him a confirming nod. “I’m a little busy, but what is it?” She responded, knocking someone over on the head.

“I just thought of something.”

Was it a plan on how to defeat all these men for efficiently? An easier way to protect all the innocent people from these terrorists? If so, Claudine was all ears. “Speak.”

“What about me? What about us?”

‘Huh?’

Claudine managed to throw him an incredulous look as Hikari kicked an attacker away just in time before he could touch Claudine.

“What about you- or us?” She asked, restraining another man with a single binding spell before taking away his consciousness.

“What if you...” Romero dodged a slash, countering with his own. Another masked man made a grab for him, but he easily turned the situation around, ending up on top of him, standing atop a few other bodies.

“I?”

“What if you married me?”

Claudine managed to smash a man’s skull against the wall just as she stared dumbfounded at the imperial knight who looked amazingly serious, and undeterred by all that was occurring around him.

Really?

“...Are we really having this conversation here? Right now?” Claudine questioned, movements fluid as she added to the pile of bodies behind her that were slowly being tied up and secured by a few free bar patrons.

“Yes? Why?” Romero replied nonchalantly, repelling a blow with his sword.

Claudine could not believe the audacity of this man. “Couldn’t it, oh I don’t know, wait until things have settled down?!”

“Couldn’t what wait?” Romero said clueless, stepping back from the force of one particular strike, approaching Claudine’s space.

“This talk!” She answered back, vexed.

“I’ll have you know I’m a hundred percent serious on this proposal. Despite its untimeliness.”

“And I can’t be serious thinking about it because there are so many things I have to consider. One of those being why I must reject your ‘serious proposal’.” Claudine growled as someone managed to hit her leg hard enough to cause her to go off balance.

Romero had caught her just in time, righting her and going back to his own fight. Claudine felt a little annoyed that he had so easily switched gears and was able to handle both his enemy and ally.

“Why ever not? It’s not like anyone else has made an offer?” Romero sounded disappointed.

Claudine really couldn’t explain it right now. Not in this situation, and certainly not as other people listened in.

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Just because!” Claudine yelled, sending one man up into the ceiling in uncontrolled temper.

“I need a concrete reason, milady. Else I’m unwilling to step down from this.” Romero laughed, continuing on with his battle as he and Claudine fought back-to-back.

“And I’m telling you we can talk about it later.”

“Just trying to tell you that I’m a very good candidate, Lady Julie.”

“No thank you, Sir Romero.” Claudine rolled her eyes, tossing another enemy away to the side.

“And that is because?”

Claudine noticed a quick shift out of the corner of her eye. The refraction of light off a blade gave her all the information she needed to calculate a countermeasure. With her feet firmly planted, she twisted her torso, channeling enough energy to deliver a speedy lethal blow into the attacker’s ribcage-

...and apparently also Romero’s who had decided to jump in front of her in a chivalrous attempt at saving her.

A wrong decision, clearly.

Both he and their foe dropped to the ground, on the obvious brink of consciousness.

Claudine’s mind flew into panicked disarray as she quickly knelt over her comrade, trying to think of how to help him.

“Romero! I’m sorry!!! But you’re an idiot!” She began to spout words out so quickly. “You should know that I’m a trained fighter. And why did you do that! You clearly saw what I was doing! This is why you shouldn’t interfere with my battles! Also what was with that sudden proposal in the middle of it all huh?! Are you trying to get us killed?!”

“Milady-” Hikari was at her side, trying to calm her as the fighting had finally subsided. Claudine’s vision however, was unexpectedly tunneled, worry apparent on her face as she desperately tried to aid the fallen knight.

“There’s a time and place for everything, Romero!” Claudine continued to scold, hands already taking on a healing glow. “You ought to be more mindful. And you claim you’re an imperial knight?!”

“Master Clau-”

“I fear for the empire if all the knights are like you. What, did you think you were saving me by placing yourself in front of me?”

“Stupid Romero. Now you’ve gotten hurt. You weren’t focusing at all, were you? And all for a silly proposal?!”

“Milady, I think he’s losing consciousness-”

“And you wouldn’t even let me explain why I clearly have to reject your proposal! I have very specific conditions, mind you. So don’t go mocking me once you hear them.

“Milady!”

“You see, I can’t accept your proposal because...” Claudine finally took a deep breath, a pause for once.

Hikari tried to tell her that Romero had long since been knocked out, but Claudine couldn’t seem to hear her. At this point, she’d realized it would be better to give up and allow Claudine to settle down on her own.

Hikari only hoped her Master wouldn’t break down at the realization and the embarrassing memories to come.

“-I like women.”

“...”

Hikari sighed, finally seeing the truth sink in for Claudine as her eyes widened and her hands trembled in an emotion that was no longer just concern.

“... he heard nothing, did he?”

She was in for a long day tomorrow.

“Milady...”

A/N: Uh. I think I did my best atm. Yey. If you’re wondering why Claudine has eastern friends, and supposedly they go way back, as well as why her knight is also from the east, well... see you next ep! Or I think next next chap? Ma- er, Romero needs a turn.

Also, before ppl complain to me about genderbending or making this mlw, I’m not one to mis-tag something. Just saying.

I apologize for OOC-ness

Also I’m just... really tired. I wanted to amuse myself by writing something silly or like... unusual-ish. Idk.

Meh.

~Shintori Khazumi

#mayakuro #shoujo kageki revue starlight #starira #revue starlight #my dumbassery arises once more #romeo and juliet but not really #fanfic #tendou maya #saijou claudine #kagura hikari #mahiru tsuyuzaki #aijo karen #au

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v-hope · 5 years ago

Text

Watch Your Words

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, College!AU, allusions to this pair being high school sweethearts, argument and make up kind of story if you may

Words: 2.6k

Summary: You get the chance to go study abroad for a whole semester and your boyfriend doesn’t take it very well. Or the one in which you mix up the words “when” and “if” during an argument and make him cry.

A/N: You’d think Guk is my bias with the amount of stuff I write about him. In my defense, this lil nerd is the one that inspires me the most for some reason lol. Anyway, I’ve had this in my wips for nearly a year and totally forgot about it so I just finished it. Enjoy? Hopefully?

“No”.

An annoyed snort escaped your mouth at Jeongguk’s blunt answer to what you had just told him, standing up from your bed and staring down at him, who remained sitting down rather calmly on the edge of it.

“No?” you couldn’t help but raise your voice. “What do you mean no?”

Instead of giving you a proper answer like you wanted, he bit his tongue, going instead for a shrug of shoulders.

“I don't want you to go” Jeongguk said sternly, and only that took for him to touch a nerve of yours.

You raised one of your eyebrows in disbelief. “You can't be serious right now”.

“I am” he nodded, standing up from your bed so he could tower over your figure. “This is something huge, and we're a couple. Shouldn't I get a say on this?”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you turned it away from him. Unbelievable.

You knew this would be a thing the moment you were offered a scholarship to go study abroad. You knew it would be hard on him to accept the idea of having you away for so long after all these years of being together pretty much every day, and you also knew that it would might take you a while to make him understand... but you didn’t think he would take it this badly.

Boyfriends were supposed to support their girlfriends, so why did Jeongguk do the exact opposite by acting as if he had the final say on your life decisions?

At both the tense silence filling the room and your lack of response to his question, Jeongguk took a step towards you, causing your eyes to instinctively be back on him.

“Don’t you think you should at least discuss it with me?” he pushed it.

“Oh, but you’re not even trying to discuss, you’re just straight up saying I can’t go!” you snapped. “You do realise how big of a deal... how important this is to me, right?”

“I do” Jeongguk answered without hesitation. “And you do realise how important our relationship is to me, don’t you?”

“To both of us” you were fast to correct him, giving place to what seemed like more of a glaring contest until you sighed, shrugging in defeat. “So what, you want me to turn down the opportunity to go study abroad just because you can't do long distance?”

“I can do long distance” he argued, “but that's not the point”.

“Then what is the point, Jeongguk?” you threw your arms up in frustration.

“That you used to talk all the time about how much you wanted to go live somewhere else and fall in love with a stupid foreign guy!” he finally snapped, making you lean slightly back out of surprise. “And now the chance to do just that is being given to you, don’t you get it?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling your breathing become heavier by the second. Because, although he was not quite wrong and you did indeed talk about that a lot with your friends when he was the new kid in school, you had given up that naive dream of your younger self the second you fell in love with him.

And it hurt you that he could so easily doubt your love for him after all these years.

“So you're implying that I'm going to cheat on you” your voice came out low.

Jeongguk shrugged, not daring to meet your disappointed eyes. “Not necessarily cheat” he explained, “but you could still fall for one of them…”

This time, you allowed a humourless laugh to leave your mouth, shaking your head as you could not believe his words. “You just don't trust me at all, do you?”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from talking.

“Do you?” you were the one to push it this time, crossing your arms over your chest while you desperately looked for any sign of him actually trusting you.

However, with you demanding for an answer and him being already too hurt as it was, Jeongguk ended up letting the words out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Maybe I don't”.

Low blow.

“Great” your voice came out cold enough for his heart to feel uneasy, “I’ll just leave then” you shrugged. “I’m taking this opportunity whether you like it or not, and when we break up don’t be surprised to see me with someone else while I’m in there”.

It was fair to say, yours was even a lower blow.

You realised that after catching the exact moment his his heart broke — the way his eyes had ever so faintly watered was enough to let you know how hurtful were the words that had just abandoned your mouth.

Nonetheless, what hurt him was not you implying you would in fact go for one of those guys... at least it was not what hurt him the most.

“When we break up?” he mumbled, sounding broken as ever. “Who said anything about breaking up? Y/N, what are you talking about?”

What hurt him the most was the way you had worded your harsh sentence out.

However, having said that in the heat of the moment, you remained standing there completely dumbfounded. “What?”

Jeongguk bit his lower lip, being almost afraid of bringing it back up. “You said ‘when’ we break up...”

Right then, you could've sworn your heart stopped for a moment.

“Jeongg—”

“No, Y/N, what the fuck?” he snapped with furrowed eyebrows, not allowing you to take your words back as he tried to move away from you. “So you were just gonna leave me here waiting for you when you had already decided to break up with me at some point?”

“No! I—”

“You just put an expiring date to our relationship and didn't even think of letting me know?” your heart broke at the small crack you had heard in his voice. “While I was here picturing our whole future together you were just…” he stared at you in a way he had never before, a way that made your stomach turn. “I can’t believe you” his eyes gazed to the floor when he suddenly could not stand the sight of you anymore. “Just go, I don't care anymore”.

If you had felt your heart break at the sight of Jeongguk being so broken, the one of him turning around to leave you for good felt like it had just been ripped out of your chest.

“Wait, no!” you freaked out, desperately following him as he sped up his pace after heading out of your room. “Don't leave, please” you cried out.

And maybe it was the adrenaline you felt in that moment or the fact that he didn't really want to leave like that at all, that allowed you to somehow manage to catch up to him.

Your arms wrapped around his waist tighter than ever before he could reach for the front door, terrified of him grabbing your arms to push you away and leave; because he was the strongest person you knew and you were well aware that he could ever so easily escape your hold in a heartbeat if he wanted to. So, the second you felt his hands grab your wrists, you pulled him even closer, holding on to him for dear life as your face rested on his back.

It was the following second when you once again felt a twinge in your chest; at the feel of his body slightly shaking against yours and the sound of a sniffle coming from him.

It was only then you realised you had made him cry.

“Let go” he demanded downheartedly. You shook your head no, not trusting your voice. “Y/N”.

He wanted to sound threatening, he wanted to push you away like he also knew he could… but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when what he wanted the most was nothing but for you to hold him and never leave his side.

“I'm sorry” you managed to croak out. “I meant if” you tried to explain — more importantly, you tried to make him believe you, which is why you repeated louder a second time: “I meant if, Guk-ah”.

He let out a sob. “But you said when, that's a huge difference” his voice sounded weak although he didn’t want it to. “Why would you say that?”

“I just said it in the heat of the moment, I didn’t realise” you took in a shaky breath, already feeling ashamed of your actions. “I just… it hurt me when you said you didn't trust me and… I guess my subconscious wanted to hurt you even more…”

A humorless snort was quick to escape his mouth, being instantly followed by a sniffle. “Well, your subconscious is a bitch”.

With that said, he finally let himself break down; lowering his head and not stopping the tears from rolling faster down his cheeks with each sob that escaped his mouth.

“I'm so, so sorry” you repeated, peppering small kisses on his back, both out of endearment and trying to soothe him. “It was really out of place and I didn't mean it…” you pouted. “Please forgive me”.

You heard him breathe in deeply, trying to collect himself for a few seconds before his hands gently tried to get a hold of yours. “Let go”.

Once again, you shook your head no, burying your face deeper against his back to stop him from moving away.

“I'm not leaving, I promise” he reassured you, knowing you and your fears like the palm of his hand. “I just wanna look at you”.

Although still reluctant, you complied anyway — your hands going up to cup his cheeks first thing once you were face to face. Feeling your chest tighten at the sight of his gloomy eyes and red nose, you tenderly wiped his tears before pulling his face towards yours so you could plant a lingering kiss to his forehead; then wrapping your arms around his neck to engulf him in a tight hug he did not wait to return.

“I'm sorry” you whispered, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Stop apologising” he mumbled, breaking the contact between your bodies and instead holding your hands in his warm ones, gently caressing them. “I hurt you, too”.

“Yeah, but—”

“But nothing, I forgive you” he cut you off, the corners of his lips sweetly curving up. “Just… you didn't mean it, did you?”

You sighed, wishing with everything in you that you could just take back that whole hurtful sentence as a whole.

“I told you” you cupped his face in your hands one more time, wanting to make sure to erase every single doubt of his when you said: “I meant if”.

“No, not that” he shook his head as his eyes gazed down to his feet. “What you said about going to one of those guys if we...” he dragged on the last vowel, not being able to finish his question — the utter thought of it hurting too much.

God, you really wished you could take it all back.

“Honestly?” you raised one of your eyebrows, causing his stare to focus on you, “I love you so damn much that I'd be too busy crying my eyes out and sulking in my own heartbreak to even look at other guys”.

Jeongguk giggled under his breath, making your heart jump at the way his eyes lit up. “Yeah, you love me too much”.

“Okay, don’t get too cocky now” you glared at him with a hint of amusement displaying in your expression. “You love me just as much”.

“I do” he confirmed immediately, removing your hands from his face so he could cup yours. “I love you a lot. That's why I freaked out earlier”.

“Guk-ah…”

“I'm sorry” he apologised this time, shutting you up. “I'm sorry I said I don't trust you, and I'm sorry I wasn't supportive of you. I'm really damn proud of you for getting this opportunity” you melted at both his words and the way he was staring into your eyes, “but… you're everything I know. We've been together ever since high school started and the mere thought of losing you to someone else… or just not having you by my side… I mean, we're together all the time, we practically live together, I…” a heavy sigh escaped his lips, “I'll be going through withdrawal without you here” he weakly laughed under his breath; knowing he had managed to lift up the mood when you did the same.

“And it's exactly because we've been together for so long that you shouldn't be worried about other guys at all” you pointed out.

Jeongguk frowned — the way he tilted his head letting you know he needed you to explain yourself. So you did.

“Yes, maybe at some point before we started dating I used to gush about travelling and falling in love with a foreign guy because... I thought it’d be like a fairytale, kind of? I was just a little girl with lots of weird dreams” you sheepishly admitted. “But ever since I fell for you, I stopped wanting that all at once” he smiled shyly, making your heart skip a beat. “I have a stable relationship with this funny, caring, handsome… fit as hell dumbass” that last description earned a snort from him, “who happens to love me a lot” you smiled sweetly, standing up on your tiptoes to give his nose a small peck. “I wouldn't change my doe-eyed bunny and what we have for the world”.

It was now your turn to giggle, watching his cheeks turn a furious pink because of what you had just called him. With his hands holding your face securely, you felt your heart jump at the familiar feel of his soft lips on yours.

“We'll figure this out” he hummed, giving you one last chaste kiss.

You nodded — hands travelling to the back of his neck, where you found yourself playing with his hair.

“It’s still a while before I leave, we will” you agreed, smiling after receiving a small kiss on the crown of your head. “And anyway, if one semester becomes too much for our clingy selves… there's this one month course our uni offers..” his eyes opened wide, and you could already see the hope and excitement they held in them, “and with your grades I don't see why—”

“I’ll do it” Guk said without giving it a second thought, causing your heart to jump at his lack of hesitation.

“But you haven’t even h—”

“I don’t care” he cut you off once again, grabbing your hand to drag you back into your room, where he knew he would find your laptop. “I’ll look for the requirements right now and I’ll do it”.

Your lips didn’t wait to part into the brightest of smiles as you walked behind him, both amused and in complete awe at how he would actually be willing do such thing just to be with you.

Nevertheless, stopping in his tracks before entering your bedroom, he turned around to stare at you with a serious semblance.

“What?” you wondered under his thoughtful expression after a couple of seconds.

“One condition, though” he tilted his head lightly back as he squinted his chocolate eyes.

Although taken aback, you were quick to nod. “Sure”.

“Please watch your words from now on and don’t ever scare me like that again”.

Fair enough.

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