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pandora-writes-one-piece · 7 months ago

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The Meet-Cute, Chapter 4 - Law

Source for the pic

Word Count: 4487 (these just keep getting bigger!)

Warnings: Fem!Reader, This is going to be a series featuring Ace, Sanji, Law, Zoro and Kid.

Special Warning: English is not my first language!

Summary: You had your life in Grand Line City all figured out. A wonderful job, a fiancé and a shared apartment. Until you found out he was cheating. Your father, Shanks, had a horse riding accident and you decided that this was just the right time to return home. You were expecting a peaceful, uneventful life back in the Calm Belt, but, fate had other plans.

Notes: I'm really sorry if I messed up some medical expressions. I tried to Google everything first!

| Chapter 3 - Zoro | |Chapter 5 - Sanji|

Law:

Your dad's grunts and wails have been increasing both in volume and in intensity, so you let out a long breath of relief as you finally park the truck at the clinic’s - thankfully almost empty - parking space.

“Hey, dad” you say softly as your heart clenches at the sight of your father’s sweaty face and scrunched up brows. “I'm going to grab you a wheelchair and some help, okay?”

You take his grunt as a positive answer and run inside the clinic, only noticing your dishevelled state as you catch sight of your reflection in the glass doors: your white top is not white anymore and there's a tear at the bottom; your shorts have dirt and oil all over them; you don't even want to get started on your knees and legs, which are bruised and scraped from kneeling on the dirt; and your once perfectly braided hair is no longer perfect and it is barely braided.

You sigh as you enter the clinic and wince in pain as you step your foot wrong. You definitely sprained it when you were with Zoro.

You drag yourself to the front desk and the blonde girl gasps as she looks at your state. “Oh, my!” She gets up hastily and goes around the desk to reach you. “Are you all right?”

You nod frantically. “I'm fine, I'm fine. I-... Kaya?”

The girl looks at you with a furrowed brow but it doesn't take her more than five seconds before her mouth turns into an ‘o’ and she exclaims your name happily. “You're back! It's been ages!”

You laugh and nod. “Yes, we should catch up. After we get my father inside. He hurt his back and-...”

“Again?” You swear this time your ears start fuming. This has happened more than once and this doctor keeps sending him home? Oh, he is going to get a piece of your mind. “Shachi, Penguin, can you be darlings and bring Mr. S. inside? He's had another incident.”

You cross your arms against your chest and frown as you watch two men go outside with a wheelchair to bring your father inside.

“They'll take him to Dr. Trafalgar. How about you, sweetie, are you alright? You don't seem well.” Kaya was your friend from kindergarten to half of the middle school, until she went home to be home-schooled. You lost touch with her even before you left town, but she has always been such a nice friend that you actually find yourself sharing a soft smile with the blonde.

“I've had a few mishaps with the car before getting here.” You sigh. “I'll go freshen up in the bathroom and then I'll meet my dad. Is that alright?”

She nods and points you to the ladies’ room. You stand in front of the mirror and, as you're passing your fingers through your hair, trying - and failing - to detangle its knots, you realise you should eat something. You discarded breakfast on account of that stupid asshole and his selfies, and you and your father didn't have a chance to eat lunch.

But first, you let out a deep sigh at your appearance, you should try to make yourself presentable. You don't want to chew the doctor's ears out looking like a hobo.

Washing up as best as you can, massaging your sprained ankle, and redoing your braid - there's nothing to be done about the state of your clothes - you deem yourself somewhat presentable and, as you leave the bathroom, you see your father being wheeled to a room so you follow him quickly.

“Daddy!”

“Buuuuuug! The doc gave me the good stuff!” He slurs and guffaws, opening his arm and almost throwing himself off the chair to hug you. Then he turns his voice into a whisper. “He stabbed a needle in ma butt!” Shanks uses his hand to hide his cheeky laugh before he continues. “Imma stay here for a while because they'll put some more drugs in my arm. And then we can go.”

What? IV and an injection? That's the whole treatment? No. Not on your watch.

“Yeah, that's good dad, rest.” You smile at him and then turn to the man with the brown hair who is wheeling him. “Hey, where's the doctor's office? I need to speak with him.”

“Er… I… Hum… Dr. Trafalgar doesn't like unannounced visitors…” He stutters but you silence him with an angry look. “But if you must know, it's that door.” He then chuckles nervously and wheels Shanks to a room.

You take a deep breath and stomp towards the office the attendant pointed out to you. After one step, you stop stomping because your ankle hurts too much, but you still make it to your destination. You knock lightly on the door, because you're not a savage, but start to tap your foot on the floor when you don't get an immediate answer.

As you raise your fist for a second round of angrier knocks, you hear a deep ‘come in’ from inside the office and you open the door, wearing a frown.

Which is quickly turned into a stunned expression because you didn't quite know what to expect from the doctor you've been hearing about, but this was not it.

He's hot.

There's no other way to describe the man in front of you. His black hair is tousled to perfection and you have to swallow a lump when he fixes his amber gaze upon your own. The frown and the furrowed brows only add to his allure, as you notice the tattooed forearms and knuckles. What an interesting choice of tattoos for a doctor, you can't help but think.

They spell DEATH.

The rest of his arms are covered by his white coat but you can't help but wonder if he has more ink on them. But that wondering soon stops, because he's already asked you twice about what you need and you have been transfixed in the same spot, drooling at him.

“Right, hi! My father. Shanks! He was just here.” You exclaim as if that explains everything.

“Yes, I know. I'm his doctor.”

He stares at you. “Oh, it’s my turn.” You stumble with your words and, is that an amused smirk in the stoic doctor’s face? Couldn't be, since it disappeared as soon as it appeared. “What is wrong with him? I keep hearing that he needs to come to the clinic more than once a week because of his back. That's not normal.” You seem to regain your cool and remember that you are there to get some answers from this man.

He leans back in his chair and gestures for you to sit but you're too wound up to stay still, so you decline and start pacing the office. You're having a hard time breathing, so you start to fan yourself with your hand.

“You're right, it's not.”

“What is it, then?”

His fingers entwine with one another as his gaze follows your form. You're limping, fanning both of your hands now, and you look like shit. You must be quite a spectacle.

“Doctor/patient confidentiality.”

“Are you kidding me?” Does your voice usually sound so far away? Because everything seems super bright and all the sounds are blending together. You stop and grip the back of the chair tightly, your knuckles turning white from the strength.

“I'm not. Your father is sane and, other than his back, of good health. I have discussed treatment plans with him. He knows what he has and he knows what he needs to do in order to recover. To you, I can't say anything without his explicit permission.” You see him tense up as he stares at you and your behaviour. His brows furrow further as he turns his body to the side, as if he's about to get up.

“But I'm his daughter!” You let out a ridiculous whine and start to gasp for air.

“And I'm his doctor.” He gets up and approaches you. “Sit. You're so pale I can almost see through you. When was the last time you ate and-...”

That's the last thing you remember before waking up in a bed next to your father.

-*-

You blink as your eyes adjust to the brightness of the room and take shallow breaths. Your head is throbbing and the constant beeping noise from the machine is not helping you at all. You realise that the beeping machine is hooked to you through your finger, as well as an IV attached to your arm.

You raise your torso with a grunt and see that the cuts and bruises on your legs have been tended to, and your ankle is now sporting a not-so-fashionable elastic bandage with a pack of ice sitting on it.

“Bug! You’re up!” Your dad flails his arm in the bed next to you to get you to look at him. “Law! Kaya! Someone!”

Pressing your thumb and index finger against the bridge of your nose, you sigh deeply. “Dad, dad, there’s a button to call the nurse next to the bed, please don’t scream.”

But it’s not necessary to use the button because Kaya enters the room with a concerned smile and gravitates towards you. “Sweetie, how are you?” Her voice is so gentle and kind that it forces an immediate smile from your lips.

“My head is killing me. What happened?”

“Well, Dr. Trafalgar said it’s probably hypoglycemia - low blood sugar - he had some blood tests done, the results should be in at any moment. Have you eaten anything today?”

You nod and are about to say yes, of course, but the words don’t leave your mouth because they are not true. You really haven’t eaten anything today. “No.”

“Then, that’s definitely it.” Kaya giggles. “I could hear you yelling at Dr. Trafalgar from where I was sitting. He looked kind of flustered when he opened the office door, carrying you in his arms.”

You blush as your eyes widen. “What?”

“Well, you were unconscious, so he carried you to the examination room.” She giggles again and lowers her voice so your father doesn’t hear the rest. “Sweetie, you two looked straight out of a romantic movie. He was carrying you bridal style with a look of concern and you looked rather frail all curled up against his strong frame.”

You keep feeling your face getting hotter as the beep from the machine next to you grows louder and faster. Kaya has always loved romantic movies, so it’s no wonder she would think something silly like this. For all you know, Dr. Trafalgar was dangling you by one arm and you banged your head on all the thresholds before reaching this room.

It would explain the throbbing headache.

“Nurse Kaya, I do hope you’re questioning the patient about medical history and the possible cause of this incident and not engaging in idle gossiping?”

You gasp alongside Kaya as Dr. Trafalgar approaches you both, a scowl on his face and his brows scrunched. How is his forehead not permanently wrinkled from all the pouts and frowns?

“No, I was just gossiping. I’m sorry.” Kaya giggles as you gasp at her truthful response. Is she allowed to speak like this with her superior? His stare at Kaya is so intense that, after a moment, she excuses herself and leaves you two alone with your father on the other bed, seemingly distracted by a soap opera on TV, until he spots the doctor next to you.

“Oh, Law! How is my baby girl?”

“Don’t call me that, dad.” You whisper between clenched teeth. Law? Is that the doctor’s first name?

“I’m going to examine her now, Mr. S. You can watch your show.” Shanks mouths a droopy ‘okay’ and turns back to the TV. He is still pretty high on drugs, apparently.

“Have you eaten anything today?” His amber eyes stare at yours and you feel compelled to look at his name tag, instead, but then you are staring at his chest, and is that more ink coming out from the neck of the shirt he is wearing? Does he have a chest piece?

The beeping becomes faster and you switch back to the piercing eyes. “No, I haven’t.” You say, trying to distract yourself.

“It’s certainly hypoglycemia, then. I will observe you.”

You nod and he removes the stethoscope from his neck, pushing it against your exposed cleavage. “Breathe in.” You take a deep breath. “Now out.” You do. He takes a step forward and tells you to lean forward as he repeats the process on your back. “In. Out.”

He reaches for a small pen-like flashlight from his coat pocket and points it at your eyes. “Look up. Down. Now the other one, up. Down. Okay, that’s it.”

“That’s it? Aren't you going to say I'm a good girl?” You giggle for a second and then stop abruptly. Suddenly mortified as his eyes pierce into your own with an unreadable expression. “I'm sorry. That was stupid. Are there drugs here?” You point to the IV and as his stare doesn't waver, the beeping on the machine just keeps getting faster and louder.

“That's just a dextrose and saline solution. No drugs. That was all you.”

The machine just beeps louder and louder and you grunt as you rip the monitor off of your finger, rendering the beeping into a continuous, even more annoying, beep.

“Stupid thing! I think that might be broken.” You snort, wail and hide your face in your hands. Can you be an even bigger idiot? Why are you acting like this? Aren't you supposed to be yelling at this doctor on account of your father? Where has all of your bravado gone?

Out the window when you passed out and were carried like a princess by her knight in shining armour. As well as all your sane thoughts on feminism and women’s rights, apparently.

Crap.

“Are you done?” He asks, deadpan as he turns off the monitor and the beeping stops. Now you’re frustrated again, but you simply pout and nod without making eye contact.

He flips through some files and hums softly. “Your blood tests came out normal. This was a simple incident of low blood-sugar, next time try not to stay too long without eating anything, or, at least, if you’re going to fast, drink plenty of liquids, tea or water, preferably.”

“I wasn’t fasting.” You mumble between clenched teeth, your eyes locked on the chipped nail polish that had come out when you ripped the monitor that was attached to your finger.

“Whatever weird diet you are on, then. Stop it. You look extremely healthy, you don’t need it.” Could that have been a veiled compliment?

“M’not on a diet.” Your mumble is even quieter.

“Sorry?”

“I’m not on any diet, or fasting, or anything. I just didn’t eat, that’s all.” This time you speak loud and cross your arms over your chest for emphasis.

“You didn’t eat the breakfast I cooked, bug? Is this still because of that jackass fiancé that cheated on you?” Shanks is literally screaming so you know that, by now, the entire clinic knows you’ve been cheated on. Yet you simply inhale, use the back of your hand to wipe away a stray tear and nod.

“I'm going to kill him.” Shanks simply declares as he tries to get up from the bed. “Law, help me kill him.”

You glimpse that amused smirk on the corner of his lips as he watches your father struggling with the bed covers.

“I would really like to be your partner in crime, Mr. S. But, you see, I took an oath.”

That statement makes you giggle and he turns his gaze back at you, smirk still in place, and your heart does a weird thing that makes you catch your breath.

“Shove that oath up your-... Ouch, dammit!” Shanks’ legs get tangled in the sheets and he almost falls as he tries to get up.

“Mr. S. please calm down. We're not killing anyone today okay?” Dr. Trafalgar turns to you. “He seems pretty determined, maybe you should distract him with something less illegal?”

Is he funny as well? He seems so stoic and uptight but he's responding to your father's shenanigans with a dark humour that's making you laugh.

“Daddy, lie back down on the bed, we will schedule another day to kill him, I promise.” You use your commanding tone and your father grunts before settling back down again. “Besides, since it's the three of us together, I would like to ask you, Shanks, what's the treatment that Dr. Trafalgar recommended for your back because the Dr. doesn't want to share that information with me.”

Your lips turn thin as you cross your arms over your chest.

“That's a good lad, Law. Thank you.”

You glare at both of them but Dr. Trafalgar just raises his arms defensively. “Doctor/patient confidentiality!”

“Dad!” You huff at the same time as your father groans loudly.

“Just tell her, Law. Or I'll never hear the end of it. And I still have a murder to commit.” He mumbles.

You turn your attention back to the doctor and try your best not to give him your ‘see you could've told me earlier and we would've avoided this whole situation’ look, but you definitely give him one of those.

“Your father has a herniated disc in his spine. This occurs when the soft inner core of a disc between the vertebrae protrudes through the tough outer layer, putting pressure on nearby nerves.”

Your brows tighten at all the medical jargon but you're understanding the essentials, so you nod for him to continue.

“Mr. S. experiences stabbing pain that radiates along the path of the affected nerve and can lead to episodes of intense pain and sometimes a feeling of weakness or numbness in the affected area. Activities that cause strain on the spine can make it worse. Something like bending down or lifting stuff.”

You turn to your father with a glare in your gaze, your frown heavy and your eyes watery. “I told you you should rest!” Your words are but a sliver that escapes your lips. Dr. Trafalgar continues.

“When the medication hasn't provided enough relief, as it's your father’s case, surgery may be recommended. The procedure typically involves removing the herniated portion of the disc to relieve pressure on the nerves and alleviate symptoms.”

The silence stretches and evolves into a thick fog that encapsulates the three of you within. Your next words are measured carefully, but need to be asked. “Is it a complicated procedure?”

Of course it is! It's on the spine!

“Each case is unique on its own. The complexity can vary based on factors such as the location and size of the herniation, as well as your father's overall health.”

“And the risks?” Your gaze alternates between the doctor’s professional stance and your father's slumped and defeated form.

“Like any surgery there are inherent risks of infections or allergic reactions. Specifically to this surgery, there's always the chance of the symptoms remaining or that another surgery might be necessary. There's also a more severe risk of nerve damage, which can cause temporary numbness or weakness. Yet, in this case, I would argue that the benefits far outweigh the risks.”

“Dad…” You start.

“I don't want to discuss this right now.” He discards the use of your nickname and calls you by your birth name, declaring his seriousness of the matter.

Your lower lip trembles and you nod at him letting out a very soft ‘okay’. Suddenly, realisation hits you. This was probably the reason why he had the horse riding incident. It was the cause not the consequence.

Dr. Trafalgar places a very gentle hand over yours and you gasp at the shock of his touch. “I will send nurse Kaya to remove your IV and your father's so you can both be on your way and discuss this properly.” You nod. “If you have any questions, you can always call me or visit the clinic.” You nod again, suddenly exhausted as your body starts to complain of all the abuse it suffered today.

He leaves calling out a ‘take care, Mr. S.’ to your father at the door. Silence permeates the room as you turn and let your feet dangle from the bed, your eyes focusing on the lying form of Shanks.

“Dad,” you start. “I know you don't want to talk about this, and I will respect your wishes, but just hear my opinion, you don't have to say anything!” You add and your father takes a deep breath but doesn't say anything so you take that as consent for you to continue. “You're young and very active. These episodes keep you from living a normal, fulfilling life. Dr. Trafalgar said that the benefits are far more than the risks and I think you should consider the surgery.”

The door opens up and Kaya comes in with a bright hello and a smile. “Think about it, dad.” You finish as Kaya stands at your side with a tray of equipment to relieve you of all the paraphernalia attached to your body.

“So, how are we feeling?” She asks you as she swiftly disconnects the empty IV from your arm.

You sigh and give her a lopsided smile. “I'm feeling better, Kaya, thank you.”

“Aaaaaand?” She giggles at you and your brows scrunch at her. “Dr. Trafalgar?”

You feel your cheeks grow hot, even if you will them not to. “He's very competent. He explained to me everything about my father's condition. He's very professional. I'm impressed.” As you admit this, you realise that maybe you should apologise to him for your earlier behaviour but maybe he's with another patient now.

“That's not where I was going.” She pouts at you. “He's single, you know?”

You wince as she takes out the needle in your vein and puts a bandaid over it. “That's… okay, I guess.” You don't really know what to say. Kaya seems to be trying to set you up, but you really don't want to think about men at this moment.

“You're impossible!” She mutters your name as she shakes her head and removes the melted ice pack from your ankle. “There, you're done. I'll take care of your father and you both can leave.”

-*-

Penguin and Shachi insisted on taking your father to the car themselves and you were at the desk with Kaya, settling the payment and documents. You were exhausted. Physically and mentally. The news about Shanks had left you preoccupied and you were having trouble processing.

As Kaya finished inserting some data on the computer, you sighed deeply and pressed the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb, closing your eyes and trying to suppress the growing throb in your head.

Suddenly, you feel a presence on your side as a deep voice fills the air. “Are you feeling well?”

Opening your eyes and forcing a weary smile on your lips you slightly nod. “Just the culmination of all the exciting events of today, I guess. A throbbing headache.” You shrug.

Dr. Trafalgar takes out a set of keys from his pocket and goes behind Kaya opening one of the cabinets and taking out two pills from one container. Then he goes to the water dispenser and fills a cup.

“Give me your hand.” You open your palm as he sets the pills there, lightly brushing his long fingers against your skin. “Take them. It will relieve the pressure on your head.” You set the pills in your mouth. “Water.” He hands the cup to you and you drink it. Then he reaches into his pocket and takes out a wrapped onigiri. “Then eat this.” You reply with a meek ‘okay’. “Good girl.”

He smirks and you nearly choke to death on another sip of water. Then you burst out laughing and you notice that the smirk is still adorning his lips. Surprisingly, he laughs along with you and you are forced to admit that the way his deep voice slurred with the words ‘good girl’ made your knees buckle and your body tingle in very unholy places.

“I'm sorry.” You start, as soon as the laughter dies down. “For overreacting earlier.”

“It's alright. I will blame your reaction on your abnormal state.” He says cheekily and you smirk back at him.

“By the way, do you carry all your fainting patients in bridal style?”

He scratches the back of his head and looks down, seemingly embarrassed. “Just the cute ones.” The blush spreads from your cheeks to your nose and you're left speechless. Where had the stoic doctor gone? There seemed to be a cheeky flirt in his stead, did he have a twin?

“Thank you, Dr. Trafalgar, for everything.” You decide to finish the conversation there since you're liking it way too much, which can turn very dangerous.

He nods. “It's Law.” You raise your brow at him. “My name, call me Law.”

“Law. Thanks.” His smirk turns into a slight smile that traps your gaze as you breathe slowly. Single, right? How?

Kaya’s soft harumph seems to wake you both from your trance and Law excuses himself with work he has to do. “Don't be a stranger.” He adds and then wishes you and your father well before leaving. You sigh as you turn to Kaya, who's watching you with a knowing look and a very silly smile.

“This was rom/com happening in real life, I swear. Girl, I'm dying here. You need to go on a date with him!” She squeals. “I don't think I've ever heard him laugh!”

“I'm not going on any date, Kaya.” You say, deadpan as you accept the receipts she hands you. “I'm off men at the moment, thank you very much.”

“Yeah we all heard your father. Sorry about your fiancé thing… Though maybe it was better to find out before the wedding actually happened!”

You nod. You couldn't agree more, actually. “I'm going to go now. Dad and I both need rest.”

You and Kaya exchange phone numbers, not wanting to fall out of touch with her, and wave goodbye. The exhaustion is taking its toll on you and you still have to try and convince your father to agree to the surgery. Maybe you'll leave that fight to another day, though.

As you walk to the truck you unwrap the onigiri and take a small bite. It tastes homemade. Delicious.

As scrumptious as Dr. Trafalgar Law, actually.

No, nope. Not gonna happen. You shake your head as you take your seat ready to face the challenge of driving with a stick yet again. And somehow, between driving with a stick and trying to avoid thinking about Dr. Law, the first one seems like an easier challenge.

#one piece #one piece x reader #op #x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #reader x law #trafalgar law x reader #the meet-cute #law x you #Spotify

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oflgtfol · 4 years ago

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ok my Consuming Star Wars In The Most Convoluted Way Possible journey thus far

the mandalorian

the mandalorian rewatch (eps 1-7)

2003 clone wars

galaxy of adventures

2003 clone wars comics

original trilogy movies

war of the bounty hunters 2021 comic alpha

darth vader 2015 comic

the mandalorian rewatch (ep 8)

open seasons comic

lego star wars: empire strikes out

general grievous 2005 comic

2003 clone wars rewatch (vol 2)

age of republic comics

phineas and ferb sw episode

my planned endeavors for the future, maybe in this order maybe not

holiday special 1978

darth vader 2017 comic

lego star wars: revenge of the brick

prequel trilogy movies

grievous comics idk the names yet

#IM ACTUALLY SO EXCITED FOR LEGO STAR WARS u have no idea #idk why i didnt watch any sooner #hopefully finishing darth vader 2015 today or tomorrow.....#holiday special 1978 SOLELY bc its boba's first appearance apparently #which i only found out when i was frantically googling if he appeared in a new hope #to make sure i didnt hallucinate his brief cameo LOL #brot posts #sw posting #ok wait checking out the wikipedia page for the holiday special #apparently the animated boba fett part is just a little bit of it #which is the only part i actually care about #HOWEVER it says that the other parts are NOTOROIOUSLY BAD and super underground #and now my curiosity is piqued... i have to watch it now LOL #crossing my fingers that its bad in a fun way and not bad like im bored outta my mind

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bestintheparsec · 4 years ago

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Between the Lines

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: A trip to the bookstore brings you more than you’re looking for.

A/N: This is just something short/sweet I came up with (it’s probably the least deep or angsty thing I’ve ever written, unlike my usual). It’s a standalone, but obviously I have a thing for coffee...anyways, I hope you like it!

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: none

(Masterlist pinned to my page)

You've found it.

After countless stops at multiple bookstores, you've managed to track down the book you've been searching long and hard for. It's a new release you've been eager to get your hands on—collector's edition, special content included. Every store you've gone to has been completely sold out of it, but after many phone calls and Google searches you'd found a store, one town over, that still had it.

Determined to get it this time, you'd shown up as soon as the store opened today. Stepping inside you see that it's a fairly big store, but it seems to be a local place since you'd never heard of it prior to your extensive search. You make a mental note to come back here more often, taking in the quaintness of it. There's plenty of books, of course, but there's also a section full of cute memorabilia and stationery, and a cozy coffee place tucked into the back corner.

It doesn't take you long to find the section you're looking for—you easily spot the beautiful cover on a display at the center of the store. There's only one copy left, and you're giddy with excitement and relief as you reach for it, sliding it out of its spot. It's the last one on the shelf, but it's in impeccable condition—no wrinkles or folds on the cover or pages, and not a single fingerprint on the jacket. Usually the last ones to go are ones that have been handled by other readers, shoved aside for a more pristine copy on the shelf. But this is your copy now, and it's perfect.

Smiling to yourself and cradling it in your arms, you walk hurriedly back to the front to pay for it and finally take it home. Turning quickly around the corner and not paying attention to anything else in particular, you wonder how long it'll take you to finish it.

And then you crash into something large and sturdy. The book falls onto the floor with a clunk and you feel something hot splash onto your skin. Someone steadies you, only for a moment before stepping back.

You gasp and blurt out an ouch! before realizing that said large and sturdy person was holding a cup of coffee, which is now spilled all over the front of your shirt and the floor.

“Shit, I'm so sorry, are you okay?” a deep voice asks frantically. Still processing what happened, you haven't looked up, focusing on shaking the brown beverage off of yourself.

Some of the hot liquid is on your arm so you briskly brush it off and shake out the front of your shirt, trying to cool off your skin. It's not until a large pair of hands gently takes your wrist, dabbing your arm with a napkin hastily pulled out of his pocket, that you finally look up at this person—and find an unassumingly handsome, albeit panicked-looking, man with wide brown eyes and a face that looks about as hot as your skin feels. You let yourself imagine that if this weren't an inconvenient moment, you might be looking at him as if something clicked into place.

“I'm so sorry, we should get some cold water on that,” he says again, urgently, wiping away at your skin before realizing he's still holding onto your arm and awkwardly letting go.

“No, it's fine, I'm a klutz, really,” you mutter to yourself, dropping your eyes to the book on the ground. It's covered in coffee now, too, much to your disappointment. Way to go, you chide yourself, deflated at the sight. Not only have you ruined the book you've gone through so much trouble to find, but you've also embarrassed yourself in front of this cute stranger in the process.

This is why you stick to books.

“I've ruined your shirt...and this book,” the man murmurs, bending down to pick it up. His furrowed brows and pursed lips make him appear softer than you might expect.

He meets your eyes, swallowing hard and peering at you with what can only be considered as puppy dog eyes. You really look at him for the first time, noticing the unruly dark curls poking out from under his cap, and the distinctly “outdoorsy” attire he has on, worn-out flannel button-up and suede jacket and all. Honestly, he looks mortified, but it's sort of endearing that he's so concerned when many others would've just muttered a curt apology before leaving you to your business. In any case, you find yourself wanting to know more about him. It's a thought you immediately push away; after all, you'd only just met him and he probably only thinks of you as some clumsy girl.

“It's okay, really, it's my fault,” you shake your head at him. “I'm an idiot, I wasn't watching where I was going.”

“But that coffee was really hot, it might've burned you—” he insists.

“I'm wearing another layer under this,” you reassure the man. Taking the book from his hands, you sigh quietly. “I can't say the same for this, though.”

He looks like he's about to ask you something else when another man, probably his friend, walks up next to him, glancing back and forth between you before making a face like yikes when he sees the large stain on your shirt.

"It's not his fault," you sputter at the same time that Coffee Man mumbles, "It was my fault."

After inquiring if you're alright, his friend reaches down to pick up the now-empty cup from the ground, then playfully smacks the man's arm.

“I can't even leave you alone for one minute,” he shakes his head jovially and you almost miss the mischievous eyebrow raise he gives him before turning back to you. “You know...you should let Francisco here take care of that. He's military—first-aid-trained and all,” the friend says with a grin and knowing wink. Coffee Man's jaw clenches, glancing timidly at you as his friend keeps talking, then shooting him a glare that says please stop fucking talking.

"Now you've ruined my coffee and a pretty girl's shirt," his friend jokes.

Coffee Man tries to smile but is visibly embarrassed as he swats his friend on the arm. “Get your own fucking coffee, then, Santi,” he tells him under his breath, which elicits a grin out of you.

Santi throws his hands up in mock-surrender. “Alright, alright. It was nice meeting you,” he nods and smiles at you before walking away.

“I really am sorry,” he tells you again as soon as his friend is out of sight. He fidgets with his hat, removing it for a second to smooth out his hair and then pulling it snugly back down. “I—I'll get you another copy of the book. And a new shirt…”

You chuckle, trying to put him at ease. “Seriously, it's fine…um, Francisco, was it?”

“Oh—Frankie,” he tells you, the smallest of smiles on his lips. He peers at you with that concerned gaze again and you both keep eye contact for what feels like several moments longer than necessary. Despite yourself, you start to feel heat creeping into your face.

Smiling softly back at him, you suddenly feel self-conscious and hug your arms to yourself. “Well, Frankie, it's no big deal. I was going to go home after this, and this shirt is old, anyways." You examine the damage to the book, flipping through the pages. "Mostly I just wanted this book—it's the last copy in the store...but that's okay, too. There are worse things.”

“What's it about?”

“Hmm?” you reply, looking back up at him.

“What's, um, what's the...book about? It has to be good if you were so excited to get it.”

You hadn't expected him to care what you were reading, and you can tell by the shy look in his eyes that it's a genuine question and not anything more.

“Oh. Well…” you start, and it doesn't take long for you to go off about its synopsis and why you've been waiting forever for it. It takes a while for you to realize that you're rambling, and you stop your muddled train of thought. But by the soft look in his eyes as he listens, you get the feeling that Frankie doesn't mind. That, or he's the kind of person who always makes the people around him feel comfortable.

"Anyways, I should let you go on with your day…" you trail off, but both of you remain where you are, not seeming to want to move.

“Wait—will you let me pay for the book?” Frankie insists. “They'll want someone to cover the damage. It's the least I can do.”

“Actually...I think I'm going to keep this copy,” you tell him. “It's still in decent condition and I can read it while I wait for them to get more in.”

Frankie smiles at you, genuinely and without embarrassment for the first time. “You really are excited for it, aren't you?”

“Yep,” you reply with a nod. “It's the same story, even if covered in your friend's drink,” you tease.

“Okay, if you're sure,” he continues. “I'm sorry again, um…I didn't catch your name.”

You tell him and he smiles again, repeating it.

“It was nice meeting you, Frankie,” you tell him as his large hand shakes yours. “Please don't worry about all this.”

Returning the sentiment, Frankie turns to head back to his friend. For a second you consider calling to him, asking to see him again. Not that you'd be bold enough to actually do that. But he quickly disappears behind the rows of shelves and you figure he has other places to be, anyways.

It's almost a week later when you return to the bookstore.

You'd given the front desk your number so they could call you when more copies came in, so you asked them to hold one for you, which they happily did. When you get to the register you find the same cashier who helped you last time, greeting her with a smile. She knows what happened last time, grinning as she hands you the book carefully wrapped in a plastic bag.

When you reach for your wallet she shakes her head. “Oh, no, honey. You're good to go,” she tells you.

You look at her, confused, and she smiles again. “Think of it as a makeup for the last one you already paid for.”

After her insistence, and many thanks on your part, you take the book and leave. When you get to the car, you take it out of the bag, pleased to finally have it. You find the smooth receipt neatly tucked in between the pages and pull it out.

What you don't expect is, at the bottom, it has some handwriting scribbled in pen along with a phone number jotted down under the note. Warmth sneaks into your cheeks and you smile as you read the words.

Would you maybe like to get coffee sometime? I promise not to spill it on you this time. -Frankie

Perm tags: @immundusspiritu @aeryntheofficial @i-like-those-odds @padlilli @hail-doodles @hiscyarika @taman-a @electricprincess888 @max--phillips @myrin1234 @aloneontheoutside @pascalisthepunkest @ah-callie @fleurdemiel145 @katialvi @murdermewithbooks @pisss-offf-ghostt @kayebede @lamnothome @fan-g0rl @lokiaddicted @mrsdaamneron @poedaneron @wolfshifter4life @dindjarindiaries @rociomz @opheliaelysia @dyn-djarin @randomness501 @unsaidsunset @hayley-the-comet @mrsparknuts @exy-issexy @palalover @forever-rogue @adikaofmandalore @kaetastic @zannemes @mstgsmy @wille-zarr @arabellathorne @f0rever15elf @lv7867 @stilllivindue2spite @urbankaite2 @secretsidereblog

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #pedro pascal x reader #my ff #please see my 2 other frankie works if you want more deepness or angst lol

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starglow-xx · 4 years ago

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 2)

platonic! fukuzawa yukichi x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: part 1: meeting the greatest detective

author’s note: ages are a year younger than canon so ranpo is 25, yosano 24, kunikida & dazai 21, fukuzawa 44, you’re 19, and atsushi and the other younger members are not employed yet

and i guess slight spoilers for the untold origins of the armed detective agency but not really. it’s just a reference to it tbh

their beloved president

going to Sakura’s the next morning wasn’t what Fukuzawa had planned during his week

the reason he was dropping by was to give you money for the sweets you had given ranpo

when he had arrived back at the agency the evening before, he had made a big fuss about you and Sakura’s

he had sparked a lot of people’s interest seeing as ranpo was well invested in whoever you were and what your business was

he wouldn’t stop talking about the “cute and annoying bakery girl” who practically saved the agency simply bc she sheltered him during the rain and fed him and almost got hit by a car for him

i mean, how would the agency survive without ranpo? it was founded to make use of his intelligence and ability after all

the other agency employees exchanged looks and that’s when ranpo tiredly sighed and showed them his phone

on the screen was a contact, yours to be exact, labeled “cute bakery girl” with the note underneath reading “best follower, sweets supply & annoying little kid”

around that time, the president had stepped out of his office to see his employees huddling around ranpo and his phone

he walked over to them and asked what was going on, and seeing the president, ranpo explained what had happened with more details

“so you’re saying that a young girl, 19 years old, nearly got herself run over to shelter you from the rain, gave you food, closed her business early so you could keep talking, and when the rain stopped, she gave you a map and even more food, and even though she may have been inconvenienced, she did not ask for anything back? nor did you offer to give her anything back? even though she relies from the money she earns to survive?

“...maybe.”

after a, private chat with ranpo, fukuzawa ended up saying that he’d go take a visit to Sakura’s first thing in the morning to pay off the sweets that she’d given him by sliding an envelope of money under the door with a note

he initially told ranpo to go back right away (and to bring someone with him this time) but that ended up not pulling through bc ranpo had told him you went to retire for the evening

so yeah

there he was walking towards your bakery when he saw a small black cat with green eyes near the entrance playing with one of the potted plants outside

even though it was small, fukuzawa could tell that it wasn’t kitten due to his love of cats but the cat was still small compared to other adult cats

when he was just a couple feet away from the entrance to your bakery, the black cat took notice of him and walked his way before rubbing itself against his leg

fukuzawa let out a small smile as he bent down to pet the small creature, and the cat gladly ate up all the attention

suddenly the entrance to Sakura’s bursts open, and there you are looking back and forth frantically

but you soon spot him and the cat and you visibly calm down

the black cat rushed to you and rubbed itself against your leg

it turns out the cat was yours, and you couldn’t find him so you panicked and rushed out the door

from there, you introduced yourself with fukuzawa doing the same

you still had about a little more than forty five minutes til Sakura’s was scheduled to open but you offered fukuzawa to come in anyways

he declined at first, but he gave in when, just how you did with ranpo the day before, you dragged him into your bakery

“you know, fukuzawa-san, this is giving me some major deja vu!”

“it’s because of ranpo i presume.”

“oh! you know ranpo-san?”

when the two of you entered, you rushed to a table and pulled out a seat for him before you disappeared off into the kitchen

just a few minutes later, you appeared with a tray with two steaming mugs, two hot plates of food, and small basket of bread

you set one mug in front of fukuzawa as well as a plate of food while you set the other mug and plate in front of the seat across from him and the basket of bread near the center by the small vase of flowers that you had for a center piece

he gave you a confused look as you sat in front of him and as your cat leaped into your lap

“ah! it’s pretty early in the morning, and you still have to go to work later, so i thought you should at least have a little something before you go. and i didn’t have breakfast yet so i thought it would be nice to have some tea with some company. and i made extras anyways!”

fukuzawa blinked before letting out a small smile and he quietly thanks you

you beam at him and as the both of you begin to eat, you ask him why he’s here this early and how he knows ranpo

with that, the silver haired man addresses your questions and explains the reason why he’s here and how he knows the brown clad male

after explaining, fukuzawa pulls out the envelope with some money and slides it over to you

you try to reject it, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re screaming bc you know you need the money for bills and whatnot

fukuzawa wasn’t very helpful either

“so you’re saying you don’t need the money?”

“...no”

you end up accepting the money much to your inner conscience’s chagrin and to fukuzawa’s inner delight

moving on from that, for the rest of the time he was there—the last 40ish minutes or so—you rambled and talked to fukuzawa like how you did with ranpo the day prior, only this time, with a cat switching his resting point for either yours or fukuzawa’s lap

honestly, you’ve gone through so much deja vu and at this point, you’re not sure if you’re still in reality or not

sometime in your conversation, fukuzawa learned that your cat, ironically, was named lucky

apparently you found him in an alley while you were grocery shopping two weeks ago and since you took him in, you noticed that Sakura’s received a lot of new customers and that a lot of them actually ended up becoming regulars

speaking of the cat, you kept having to stop lucky from eating the food on the table

if fukuzawa was amused from your antics along with lucky’s, he was pretty good at hiding it

you: “lucky you naughty cat! i already told youuu” >:(

lucky: >:3

fukuzawa internally: :) & :D

the two of you had also became well engaged in talking about different kinds of tea, with fukuzawa even complimenting you with the tea you had made for him

it became his favorite <33

you were so happy <3

oop there’s that kid-like behavior again🤭

don’t tell ranpo🤫

scratch that he probably already knows somehow </3

speaking of which, the two of you also talked about the childish detective

it was kind of hard to tell whether or not you were admiring him <3 or insulting and complaining </3 about him lol

“so you’re the president ranpo-san was talking about huh. we talked a lot about his job yesterday! it seems quite exciting! but he talks quite a lot honestly.”

“ranpo talked a lot about you as well”

“ah really?! he can be a bit of an ass, but he really is amazing isn’t he?”

“mhmm”

through fukuzawa, you also learned how the two had first met, and this time, it was hard to tell whether you were amazed or angry at him

“awh that’s so cool!! but for someone so smart, he’s an idiot! what if he got hurt?! it was a good thing you got there huh fukuzawa-san?”

if you thought ranpo was like an older brother figure, you definitely saw fukuzawa as some sort of father figure

he noticed that you started to act like ranpo a little bit

you had developed some sort of attachment to him and when he praised you abt your tea, you had the same glow ranpo has when he gives him praise

not that fukuzawa minds

you’re just another child he’s adopting !! <33

not that either of you knew that hehe >:D

time went by pretty fast and before you knew it, there was only 10 minutes until you were scheduled to open

it was a good thing you had just finished all your prep before fukuzawa arrived

after making a promise with fukuzawa for him to come back again for some more tea, he stood up and made his way to the door as you carefully lifted lucky from your lap so you could quickly wash the dishes and to wipe the table and chairs you used

you offered some baked goods and some tea for to go but fukuzawa declined saying that you needed your supplies for your customers

as soon as you placed lucky on the wooden surface, he bolted to fukuzawa and kept on circling his legs and rubbing against him to stop him from leaving

i guess it turns out you weren’t the only one to get attached to fukuzawa

he couldn’t get even one step closer to the door without lucky reacting and running rapid circles around his legs to get him to stop moving

you didn’t know what to do and you were starting to freak out bc it was almost time to open up, but fukuzawa saved the day and offered to take lucky back with him and promised to take him back the next day

at first, like how you did with the money, you declined but ended up giving in when you saw quite a few of your morning regulars walking down the sidewalk towards Sakura’s for its opening

fukuzawa simply picked up the cat and walked out the door giving you one last wave of good bye

when they left, there was only about 5 minutes left and you rushed to finish the last minute clean up

when fukuzawa arrived at the agency (after a quick stop at home) with a cat in his grasp, let’s just say that quite a few more questions were raised

when asked about the cat, he simply answered that he was cat-sitting for a friend and ranpo knowingly smiled

but he then realized that fukuzawa arrived without any of your signature baked goods and he started complain as the rest of the agency members stared in confusion

with ranpo’s visit, they had quite a few questions, but with fukuzawa’s visit to Sakura’s, their confusion only grew a whole lot more and will continue to keep growing

<< previous // next >>

taglist: @hanniejji

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plussizeappreciationfics · 4 years ago

Text

Series: Just the assistant..?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Plus sized reader

Summary: [Y/N], Tom's personal assistant knows that she shouldn't have fallen in love with her employer but she just couldn't help herself. When she thinks that her biggest wish is about to come true, a third party arrives and makes her question whether she'd ever have a chance to escape her situation and simply be loved back by the person she loves the most...

Warning(s): None, I think?

Word count: 5,2k

Picture(s) found on: Pinterest/Google

CHAPTER ONE: Ignition

"Just a few more minutes until they call, do you want something to drink?" (Y/N) asked Tom as she made her way to the kitchen, her heart fluttering nervously in her chest as the tension rose in his living room.

He had been sitting on the couch, frozen on the spot while staring into space with his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He couldn’t voice the intense waves of anxiety and nervousness coursing through his body, time seemed to pass slowly. One of the producers of Harold Pinter's Play "Betrayal" was about to let him know whether he had gotten one of the main roles or not.

Tom had auditioned for the play a while ago and had desperately hoped that his performance was worthy enough to act the play out on the stage. He had always loved theatre, the interest had never decreased throughout the years. Harold Pinter was also a writer Tom had always looked up to as his plays always inspired and touched him on a deep level that not everyone was able to understand.

"Tom" (Y/N) called out again.

He had never answered her question which had made her turn on her heel and focus her gaze on his tensed back and shoulders. He still hadn’t moved a muscle as his brain was clouded with too many thoughts at the same time. His assistant let out a soft sigh, her heart fluttering as she longed to gently place her hands on his back and give him a soothing massage. God...I just want to feel you relax under my touch. Whisper my name in a state of longing...

She bit back a craving hum as her eyes continued to appreciate his backside, he obviously needed some time to himself and wasn’t in need of any liquid refreshment. She turned back around and walked into the kitchen while hoping and praying that he’d get the role as he really deserved it.

She empathised with his every emotion and felt anxious herself, a habit she had when loving someone. Once in the kitchen, [Y/N] quickly walked over to the fridge and took a bottle of water out of it, popped open the cap and let out a soft hum when the cool liquid made its way down her throat. It had been dry and itching for a little while but she didn’t want to leave Tom’s side. She was his biggest supporter, not just the assistant that had been loving him for three years now.

She couldn’t distinguish whether she ever crushed on him or just immediately found herself loving him. She had been a silent admirer of him and his work before she got the amazing (and well paying) opportunity to work as his personal assistant. But she was a professional and strictly made herself keep all the romantic feelings she had for Tom on the down low, she knew that both of their images were at stake if she’d dive into the cliché “employee messing with their boss” mess.

It was easier said than done but she quickly developed some quality acting skills that prevented the British gentleman from even guessing her true feelings about him. She didn't want to jeopardise her job as it was something she really loved and appreciated doing.

"[Y/N]!" Tom called out in panic, causing her to place the water bottle on the kitchen counter and run back into the living room, where she found him standing in front of the coffee table with his phone still in his hand. The anxiety clouding his eyes quickly vanished the second he looked at his assistant, her presence immediately had calmed him down.

His loud ringtone echoed through the room. “W-what should I do?” he questioned, feeling like he had lost all common sense while his heart beat harshly against his ribcage.

She chuckled and shook her head while pointing at his phone. “Accept the call!”.

He frantically nodded, letting his thumb slide across his screen before holding his phone to his ear. [Y/N] let out a shaky breath, this was finally the big moment and she was glad that she was the only one who got to witness it. He never put up a show in front of her during these types of moments and that was one of the many reasons why she loved him; he unconsciously made her feel so special on an almost day-to-day basis.

“Hello?” Tom spoke before a nervous laugh escaped his lips, “Gerald, how are you?”, his manners were impeccable while his facial expression turned serious. A big frown crept onto his face, he bit his lower lip and slowly nodded his head. The room got silent and the assistant didn’t know what to do; she was silently contemplating whether to have a seat on the couch or stay on her feet, ready to walk away in case he wanted some privacy.

A smile appeared on her face when the actor looked at her again, smiling brightly and motioning with his hand for her to take a seat on the couch. Her stomach fluttered in delight at the fact that he wanted her near and witness this exciting moment with him.

She made her way over to the couch and was about to sit down when a loud gasp escaped his lips, a smile stretching across his handsome face. “Thank you so much! I-I can’t believe this! Thank you, thank you!” he happily spoke out and then chuckled. She stared wide eyed at him as she quickly caught onto what was happening.

He had gotten the role.

[Y/N] barely could hide her grin as she felt the anxiety disappear like a heavy weight being lifted off her shoulders. An overwhelming urge to reach out for Tom’s handsome face and press her lips against his overtook her senses. But she knew damn well that that was something didn't have the right to do. So, with a soft sigh she fought her inner voices and body parts to stay still and not do something she'd regret.

Words couldn’t describe how proud she was of him, he was perfect for the role and she couldn’t wait to see the whole production come to life. Tom would have the time of his life and gain more experience in the industry which could lead to his next job, once the play would be over.

“I certainly will!” Tom laughed and nodded his head, snapping [Y/N] back to reality. They locked eyes and just grinned at each other. “Thanks again, have a nice day. Bye!”, a loud laugh escaped his lips as he tossed his phone onto the couch and surprised his assistant by charging towards her and then quickly engulfing her in a tight embrace.

“I got the part! I can’t believe it!”

“Congrats, Tom! I knew you’d get it”. [Y/N]’s knees almost buckled as her arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders, his delicate scent filling her nostrils. Her body instantly relaxed and she felt lightheaded, she wished for this moment to last forever, this is where she felt to belong. In his arms. The actor gave her another squeeze and let out a relieved sigh, his body enjoying the intimate embrace, the sensation surprising him greatly. They had hugged countless times (which had always left [Y/N] a sensitive mess like in that current moment), but this time it felt different for him.

Her delicate scent mixed with her sweet perfume made him close his eyes, his soul suddenly being at peace. The feeling of her soft and squishy body made him bury his head in the crook of her neck and gently sigh out in pleasure. She clenched her jaw in order to stop herself from gasping out loud as an intense shiver coursed down her spine. Tom had never hugged her this way, his beard tickled her sensitive skin and she loved every second of it.

Her heart skipped a beat before playing a loud song against her ribcage, this felt like a dream. A delicate dream she hoped to never wake up from. The room was silent, their soft breathing being the only thing whispering through the atmosphere as the actor continued to enjoy the feeling of having his assistant so close to him.

Pleasant tingles coursed through his body as he absentmindedly gave her another squeeze, her beautiful face appearing behind his now closed eyelids. No one spoke a word. Just two souls initiating their passionate connection.

“Tom” [Y/N] whispered after a few minutes, needing to end the moment even if it made her heart ache. But she knew that if she wouldn’t speak up, he would and probably conclude that they’d been hugging for way too long and inappropriately. When he hummed softly and opened his eyes, he gave her one final squeeze before slowly pulling away and smiling at her. He didn’t regret anything.

He drank in the sight of her beautiful face, his eyes sparkling suddenly. “We need to celebrate this!” the excitement was slowly bubbling up again in his stomach. The assistant let out a chuckle and pulled her out her phone from her jean pocket. “Sure, who do you want me to invite?” she questioned while trying to get down from the delicate high she still was on. His cologne mixed with his mesmerising scent still lingered in her nose and her heart even ached more now.

Her fingers slightly trembled while typing in her passcode before she went on the message app, ready to send out a dinner invitation to Tom’s closest friend group. She cleared her throat and looked up again, her heart skipping another beat when she saw him smile brightly at her like she was the most delicate creature walking the earth...

“How about I cook something just for the two of us and we can celebrate with Ben, Charlie and Idris tomorrow?”.

[Y/N] let out a breathless chuckle and nodded her head, “Sounds great…”. Words couldn’t describe the euphoria pumping through her blood. Even though he hadn’t officially asked her out, she still felt happy and excited to spend some more time alone with him. She didn’t have high hopes of something happening but just being in his presence was more than enough for her to soothe her cravings temporarily and that made her gladly accept every opportunity to be alone with him, work related or not.

“Great! How about Chicken Fettucine Alfredo?”. She grinned, nodded and put her phone back into her pocket. She was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do next, a part of her wanted to throw herself back into his arms and another one to get back to her house and let the previous, intimate moment dawn onto her.

She chose the latter.

“I-I’ll go freshen up and finish some tasks for you. Let me know when you want me back” she smiled at him one last time before walking towards his front door, knowing that the actor was staring at her back. “Okay, I’ll send you a text message!” Tom gently called out and watched with a smile on his face how she waved her hand in the air to indicate that she had heard him. [Y/N] then had left his house seconds later.

“Mhm…” the actor whispered to himself, suddenly feeling his stomach sink. The happiness and excitement simmered down while he sat down on his couch and leaned back. His eyes fell shut and he thought about what just had happened: He had gotten the role of one of his favourite plays and felt like he was dreaming. He couldn’t wait to start the project and try his best to captivate the people with his talent all over again. He was going to play Robert, a man whose wife was having an affair with his best friend of several years.

He was impatient to find out who was going to be casted as the other two characters: Emma and Jerry. He appreciated and loved his work so much, but knew that he wouldn’t have gotten this special part if it weren’t for his assistant who had strongly encouraged him to audition for the play.

[Y/N].

Tom could barely express how much she had changed his life for the better when he had hired her three years ago. He just had broken up with his famous ex-girlfriend and was being bullied by her fans so much that he disappeared from the spotlight once his work schedules were cleared.

His friends didn’t see him often as he hid away in his house, trying to tune out the discomfort and regret he felt from letting the whole world focus on his relationship. He was known for keeping his private life private, but the love he had felt for her had made him disregard his own strict rule and boundary. To be publicly ridiculed was one of harshest lessons he had to learn.

That's when his agent suggested hiring a personal assistant to help him keep his profile on the down low until he’d feel better.

[Y/N] was hired not too long after his hiatus from the public eye, her job had been to see what roles the entertainment company Tom was signed to had to offer and also fulfill personal tasks like going grocery shopping or sending out birthday gifts and so on. But with her already having caught serious feelings for him, she had a natural urge to also take care of him, not as her boss but as a confidant and comforter.

It was her bright, charming and loving personality along with her soothing and encouraging ways that slowly brought Tom out of the protective bubble he had created around himself. A strong friendship was quickly formed while he felt himself change back into this natural self. A better self.

[Y/N] became his silent rock to lean on while continuing to work for him. When he was back to his naturally charming and funny self in public and private, she had become conscious about her feelings for him. She was surprised (but also very relieved) that no one had suspected anything. Benedict and his wife Sophie, Idris and his Wife Sabrina along with Charlie and his wife Samantha all had quickly grown to love her as a part of their friend group.

The assistant was way more loosened up with the actors wives as they had a very close and strong bond as women. Around the male actors, she was a tiny bit more reserved but just to keep up the professional “I am not hopelessly in love with my boss and don’t want you to know about it” act.

But Tom was just as supportive of his assistant when life became difficult for her too. Often placing a comforting hand on her shoulder or back while fighting the urge to hold her close and promise to take care of whatever issue she was facing when she couldn’t keep the tears to herself anymore. Tom and [Y/N] had come a long way together, individually and as friends.

“Bloody hell”

Tom muttered when realising that he had zoned out for a good ten minutes. His stomach was doing flips but he didn’t feel sick or nauseous. The overwhelming urge to feel [Y/N] so close to him again had left him craving for more ever since she had left his house.

He bit down onto his lower lip when he remembered the delicate sensations tingling through his body, the intensity was something the actor hadn’t experienced in a long time. Or ever. He shook his head, snapping himself out of his little daydream and shot up from the couch. “I should go grocery shopping for tonight’s celebration” was what he muttered to himself before picking up his car keys from the small coffee table and saying his goodbye to Bobby who had waltzed into the living room with a wiggly tail.

Tom chuckled, petted his beloved dog and then made his way towards the front door with a pleased smile resting on his handsome face.

~~~

“Fuck, why am I like this?” [Y/N] cried out in frustration as she was standing in her full length mirror, staring at her naked body wrapped in a towel. She just had gotten out of the shower, her skin was glistening and glowing from the lotion she had applied to her body, her hair moisturised . She was scanning her body from head to toe and slowly felt herself become insecure. She had this lingering feeling that the hug she had shared with Tom had a deeper meaning.

Her conscious refused to let go of the matter and she found herself wondering if he’d ever be interested in her. Her eyes continued to scan her body from head to toe, every thick bump and curve being intensely observed. “Stop it” she hissed at herself, shaking her head and trying to distract her craving heart from the fact that it might had found its perfect match. “I’m just the assistant” [Y/N] reminded herself before stepping away from the mirror and walking over to her closet.

She didn’t want to overdress for a simple celebration dinner, and quickly decided on a simple and comfortable outfit for the private event; a pair of black jeans, a white, long sleeved shirt with not too much cleavage and a black jean jacket in case she'd get cold.

It took her a few minutes to get dressed before she focused on her hair and light makeup. She chose to not wear many layers of makeup. Tonight she preferred a natural look that would also enable her skin to breathe easily. Once she was done, she gave herself a final look in the mirror and nodded her head in approval.

She looked beautiful, as always.

“Let’s do this then” she whispered to herself and then made her way out of her bedroom. Now all she needed was for Tom to let her know that he was to welcome her back into his house. “Okay, it’s nothing special” the assistant muttered to herself while suddenly feeling her heart starting to beat faster in her chest.

This was the usual habit she had whenever she was about to see the British actor: reminding herself that her deepest desire wouldn't become reality and to keep herself in check. [Y/N] had been in love and had loved a decent amount of people but never had she felt these intense emotions for someone.

She had been with the most charming and loving or shitty and selfish people, the heartbreaks she had gone through were either very painful and long lasting or quick and rather painless. It always made her wonder how Tom had been able to sweep her off her feet in such a delicate yet simple manner, and why she loved him stronger with each passing day.

The plus sized beauty was now in her kitchen, eating a granola bar while sitting at the counter. The silence in the house smoothly encouraged her to relax for a little while and unwind. She had finished the few tasks she had to do for her boss; making sure that his stylist had the suits ready for his public appearances that were coming up in a few days.

A BAFTA event was just around the corner and Tom had gladly accepted their invitation as he was one of the many ambassadors. The organisation had planned a few games with delightful prices such as apprentices abroad for upcoming musicians, actors and artists or tickets to Tom’s upcoming play to encourage people to get in touch with their creative self.

The actor was thrilled to meet new people and witness others from different backgrounds, to witness them earn amazing opportunities to either learn, travel or create themselves artistically.

[Y/N] wouldn’t join him to the event. She had a lengthy list of new things to work on for her boss. The final Avengers movie would be released in the theaters in a few months but Tom wouldn’t join the press tour as he’d be on stage here in London. But his own Loki series had gotten the green light so he’d have to start meeting up with the creative writers and producers to see how they’d bring the series to life. It was obvious that Tom would be booked and busy for at least a year.

[Y/N] got lost in her thoughts again, absentmindedly finishing her granola bar while planning her following weeks ahead, she knew that stressful days were ahead but she didn't mind that at all. At the end, she'd get her job done.

It took her a few minutes to snap out of her daze before her phone loudly notified her that she had received a message.

From: Tom

Finally, she thought to herself while unlocking her phone and reading Tom’s new message.

To: Me

I’m done cooking, waiting for your presence now 😊

From: Me

“Aw” the assistant cooed with a wide grin on her face, the message was so short and simple yet it made her feel like she was floating on cloud nine. Especially because Tom rarely used emojis, so to see that she was worthy enough for a smiley face filled her heart with joy.

To: Tom

Her thumb hit the sent button before she hopped off the kitchen stool, her heartbeat increasing again as she felt a rush of warmth and excitement ripple through her body.

I’m on my way 😊

[Y/N] took her purse off the counter and placed her phone in it before taking out her keys. Her footsteps softly echoed through the air as she made her way to the front door with a gorgeous smile resting on her face. She couldn’t wait to see her love again.

“Wow” was the first thing Tom whispered once he swung the door open, his eyes immediately were blessed with the sight of [Y/N] standing right in front of him. Their eyes sparkled while staring deeply into one another. “Hi” [Y/N] whispered, her body relaxing instantly while waiting for the actor to welcome her back into his home.

~~~

“Hello” Tom finally spoke, his heart pounding so hard that he was afraid she’d be able to hear it. He took a step aside and widened the door, “Please enter”. The assistant thanked him before walking into his house, not noticing how he closed the door while whispering a soft “You are so beautiful” into the air.

“It smells amazing” she complimented while already having placed her purse on the small coffee table in front of his couch, now patiently waiting for the actor to turn around and interact with her.

Tom took a few seconds to lock his door before finally turning on his heel and biting back a grin when his eyes landed on [Y/N] again. Her beauty and presence were sucking him into a delicate whirl of endless contentment, but he didn’t fight it. “Thank you, I hope you’ll enjoy the meal. How about a drink first?” he suggested while walking over to her and playfully holding out his arm to her.

She chuckled and happily linked her arm with his, his cologne mixed with his scent filling her nostrils while they made their way into the kitchen where she could hear the soft sizzling filling the air. Tom led her over to the big counter where he already had set the table and everything else up, some candles included. It looked like a romantic dinner.

[Y/N] clenched her jaw to stop herself from voicing how pretty everything looked, it looked like a meal for lovers, not employer and employee. But she swallowed her thought, not wanting to risk saying anything that could ruin the smooth and delightful vibe. So with a soft sigh, she turned around and gently thanked Tom for preparing the celebration dinner.

“Don’t even mention it” he chuckled and made sure that she was comfortably seated before he rushed over to the pans and pots and started to serve her the celebration dinner. Her mouth watered at the delicious sight and she couldn’t wait to dig in. But she patiently waited until he was done with his own plate and was seated before she rose her glass filled with non-alcoholic Peach Moscato. [Y/N] wasn’t planning on getting drunk as the next day would be very hectic for her.

"To you” she gently spoke, her heart fluttering in her chest when Tom copied her actions and smiled brightly at her. “No, to us” he added and let his glass with the same drink clink against hers.

“I didn’t do anything” the assistant responded with a soft chuckle before taking a quick sip of her drink and humming in delight. It tasted delicious. “You’re the actor who went to the audition” she added before lifting her fork and smoothly digging it into a piece of diced and seasoned chicken.

Tom shook his head while following her motions, “You did a lot actually. I wasn’t sure whether I was good enough to even audition for the role. But you encouraged me and supported me from the beginning to the end, and I can’t thank you enough for that [Y/N].

Once his words left his mouth, the room fell silent.

[Y/N] and Tom just looked at each other, so many unspoken emotions flashing past their eyes. The tension had shifted again but not to something awkward. It was like their souls were communication as the sparkles in their eyes never left. They only thought about each other and how grateful they were to be in that intimate moment with one another.

The actor couldn’t stop thinking about how he suddenly longed to be close to her again. Feel her warm and soft body pressed against him, have her scent make him forget about the world and just focus on her. His lips tingled, the urge to feel hers pressed against his overwhelming him.

[Y/N] was thinking the exact same thing, the attraction she had felt for him only became stronger with every passing moment. Her breathing became quicker when her mind started to picture how it would feel to kiss him…Hold him close while letting their lips melt together as one with nothing but love and passion.

“T-Thank you” was all she was able to say as she snapped back to reality and realised that she hadn’t responded to his kind words. Tom nodded his head and gave her a bright smile before both of them continued to enjoy the food together.

“This is scrumptious” the assistant praised with a hum before taking another bite, trying to play it cool while she felt the heat and warmth course through her body. Tom chuckled and bowed his head, blushing at the simple compliment, “I’m happy you’re enjoying it”. What he didn't voice was how he had spiced up the simple recipe, the need to impress [Y/N] driving him through the short time of preparing the meal.

The two of them then continued to eat while talking about their upcoming vacations, the production of the play wouldn't start until a few weeks and the Loki series was months away from being filmed. [Y/N] didn’t want to just talk about their work and happily listened to Tom voicing his desire to travel to Asia again for two weeks. He then told her about filming Kong: Skull Island in Vietnam and Hawaii. Throughout the dinner, his hand found hers numerous times and he gave it a gentle squeeze before sliding it back and either taking a sip of his drink or finishing his plate.

"And so I had to explain to my boss's ex-girlfriend that he had wanted the engagement ring back but that he was too embarrassed to come and collect it himself! After he had been caught red handed cheating on her!" [Y/N] finished explaining the crazy story about her previous employer, clasping her hands against her cheeks and shaking her head at the awkward memories.

___

Tom was having a delightful laugh, his cackles echoing through the kitchen while trying to imagine how his assistant must've felt in that moment. "That is just crazy! I assure you [Y/N] that I won't ever ask you to do such a thing for me" he chuckled at the end and shook his head.

"Good, because that experience made me add lots of terms and conditions to my general contract. I've actually been rejected a few times because those who had been interested in hiring me didn't approve of my demands" the assistant chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"Like I have no issues going grocery shopping for you but I won't do your dirty laundry or buy lube and condoms for you at 3 o'clock in the morning...". The last phrase made Tom almost choke on his spit before he burst out laughing again, his cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiles and laughter. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed or enjoyed someone's presence this much.

"Shit, Tom. it's almost midnight! We've been eating and goofing around for hours!" [Y/N] gasped in panic, not having realised how fast the time had rushed by. She quickly got up and took her now empty plate, strutted over to the sink and was about to wash it when Tom's voice stopped her.

"Don't even think about turning on the sink, [Y/N]. Let me do this" the soothing yet amused tone in his voice made the assistant roll her eyes and simply place her plate in the empty sink and turn around with a defeated look on her face. "Fine! But I better get going then, thanks again for the meal, it was delicious".

Tom grinned at her and joined her at the sink, both of them washing their hands before drying them and making their way out of the kitchen. "It was my utmost pleasure, [Y/N]". No words were spoken after that as the assistant collected her purse and made her way to his front door, feeling like she was floating on cloud nine.

"Let me know when you get home safely, okay?" Tom whispered while surprising her again with another gentle hug, his arms and hands welcoming her delicate body again. All poor [Y/N] could do was nod her head and close her eyes for a few seconds, no thoughts clouding her head as she lost herself into the embrace.

"Goodnight" she then whispered while pulling away, looking one last time at his handsome face before creating some space in between them, her heart feeling like it was about to combust into flames. "Goodnight beautiful, thank you for being you" Tom whispered, the sparks glistening in his eyes as he watched his assistant bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning like an idiot.

The two of them shared another gentle moment before [Y/N] turned around and left Tom's home. He watched her walk down the front porch and to the drive in where her car was parked. The man couldn't keep his eyes away from her, she was all he could think about and he couldn't stop whispering her name every few seconds while watching her drive off into the night...

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-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelson #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston x plus size reader #tom hiddleston x plus #plus size reader

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faulty-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Alright, this was actually sitting in my Google docs for a month or two. But I finally finished it, that being said. I hope you enjoy it!

WARNING: This fanfiction contains manga spoilers.

[ You met Tomura when you were attempting to run away from two bullies and despite witnessing one of them turn to dust by Tomura's hand. You maintained an odd but meaningful friendship with him until you were forced to relocate. Now years later, Tomura suddenly remembers you when he sees you on the news and he's determined to track you down in order to resume his friendship with you. Even if that means blackmailing you into staying. ]

"You will now be known as Tomura Shigaraki…" those were the very words that changed his life. Separated him from the rest of society and stirred that deep-seething rage within him. However, this was something you had yet to know.

Especially being the age you were when you first met the boy formerly known as Tenko Shimura. The other kids weren't so fond of him. In fact, you heard many rumors, some of which you didn't believe before you even laid eyes on him.

Like how Tomura was the neighborhood creepy kid and wore extra hands, whatever that meant. You honestly weren't sure and maybe you were just looking for trouble when you began asking questions. Like where does the creepy kid live and what makes him so scary?

The other children would provide you with answers, but their tales seemed too embellished for your liking. In fact, they sounded like something out of a fairy tale. But given the fact that the world itself was the mirror image of a comic book where most were gifted with some type of quirk.

Where heroes, villains, and vigilantes sought out their own form of justice, maybe it wasn't too far-fetched to believe some parts of the stories. Of course, even so. You understood what it was like to be considered an outcast considering your parents were well-known heroes

This, in turn, made the other kids assume you thought highly of yourself. But in reality, you didn't have that much self-confidence. But that didn't stop the other kids from bullying you which caused your fateful meeting with Tomura.

You were on your way to school when it happened. Despite your quirk being rather impressive, you still couldn't control it and your parents strictly forbid you from using it. This was in part due to the fear that if their child illegally used their quirk and harmed someone as a result. Their reputation would be ruined.

You wished you didn't feel obligated to play by the rules considering you found yourself running down the sidewalk with two bullies hot on your tail. You stumbled over your own feet a few times but forced your legs to continue carrying you.

Their mocking cries were still so close and you glanced around. Trying to figure out where you could possibly hide or at least stray them off your trail. However, you noticed that the buildings were becoming more decayed the further you ran down the sidewalk.

The normal bright red bricks you were used to seeing were now dull, covered in layers of slime and dirt. The windows to several buildings and houses were cracked or completely broken. Some even had wooden boards up in place of windows.

You slowed your pace, panting softly as you glanced at a wooden fence ahead of you. Planks of wood were sticking out crudely, only being held in place by a rusty nail or two. You glanced over your shoulder, the haunting smirks of your bullies caused another shiver down your spine and you took your chances running for the fence.

"Come on, come on!" you frantically exclaimed, trying desperately to find a space to squeeze through. You then began to pull at several planks, hoping one of them would snap off. Surely enough, after trying a few. You ended up stumbling back when one of them finally gave way.

Unfortunately, you only managed to break off half of it but there was still enough of an opening for you to climb through. "Yes!" you exclaimed in victory before tossing the now half-broken plank to the ground and quickly rose back to your feet.

It was a little difficult, but you managed to step halfway through the opening before you were suddenly pulled back. Your head smacked into the portion of the plank that had remained intact. 'Come back out you coward!' one of the bullies shouted as their grip on your wrist tightened.

"Let go of me!" you demanded as you dug your feet into the ground, you refused to get pulled back through. To be subjected to whatever unnecessary punishment they wanted to put you through. You pressed your foot against the fence and pulled with all your might.

Such was not an easy task for someone so small, but you found yourself stumbling back and onto the ground. A soft hiss came as you lifted your arm, noticing a series of deep red scratches that were left along the length of your forearm, more than likely the last attempt from your bullies to keep holding onto you.

However, this was forgotten when you saw their faces in the frame of the broken part of the fence. 'There they are! We're coming for you, Y/n!" one of them stated and you frantically got up to run. But yet again you found yourself stumbling back when you hit something and ended up back on the ground.

"H-Huh?" you frowned, feeling tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes before you saw him. He was tall and looked slightly malnourished, his skin was pale and he appeared to be hunched over. He had ear-length black hair but you couldn't see his face given the fact a hand was covering it.

Actually, several hands were covering him. Around his throat, shoulders, and down the length of his arms. You couldn't help the scream that escaped you, it was like you were looking at someone from a horror game.

'Is this...' any thoughts halted when the boy tilted his head and began to observe you. Then he lifted his arm, that's when you noticed his long thin-looking fingers and the way his nails were bitten and uneven. He took a step towards you and you closed your eyes.

Expecting to feel that hand somewhere on your body, yet he paused when he heard the commotion caused by the bullies that were kicking and punching at the wooden fence. ‘Come back out, Y/n!’ they shouted again and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you watched one of them attempt to squeeze through the opening you created.

This resulted in their body sticking halfway through. It didn't make you feel any better knowing that the fence was shaking and you suspected that at any moment, it would collapse. You turned back to...oh God. What was his name!? At that moment in your life, it didn’t matter.

You found yourself stumbling to your feet, ignoring the dirt you were covered in and those scratches on your arm that continued to sting. With no rational thought left, you reached out to grasp the front of the mysterious boy’s shirt.

You couldn’t see his facial expression, but you did notice his body language. The way his arms went back and his spine curved so he was leaning away from you as if he either didn't want you to touch him or he didn't want to touch you.

But regardless of that, you leaned close to him or as close as you could without touching the hand that was placed over his face. “Help me please!” you frantically exclaimed as your hands trembled, somewhat losing their grip on his shirt as you turned back to see someone’s foot go through one of the wooden boards that made up the fence.

You turned back and shook the boy. “Help!” you pleaded once again before feeling something hit the back of your head, you let out a cry and reached up to grasp the back of your hair. “Hey!” you shouted as you removed your remaining hand from the boy’s shirt and turned around to see the damage done to the fence.

Chunks of wood were missing and cracks were visible in several planks. The bullies were now stepping through the broken fence with wicked smiles on their faces, ‘Nowhere to run now’ one of them said as they began to stomp towards you. However, the second bully stopped them by grasping onto their shoulder.

‘Wait, look…’ they pointed towards the mysterious boy you had run into and you turned to look at him, wondering what was so wrong. He looked scary, maybe even creepy but he couldn’t be dangerous. Right? How wrong you’d find out you were.

Still, you turned your attention back on the bullies. Watching as the first one smacked that hand off their shoulder. ‘So what!? That Shigaraki is a freak! Not like he’ll do anything, come on!’ they grabbed the other's arm and beelined for you.

A whimper escaped as you took a step back, holding your hands out which seemed to catch Shigaraki's attention and he found himself observing you once more. However, this didn't last long as the leading bully proceeded to shove him out of the way.

You wanted to shout, but all sense of courage left you when one of the bullies grabbed your arm and roughly pulled you forward. You could hear the soft pops of your bone echo as your arm was stretched out.

"Let go!" you demanded as you tried to yank your arm back, but the bully seemed unphased. The second bully walked over and reached out to grab a section of your hair before giving a painful yank which caused you to let out a hiss.

‘Gonna cry?!’ they taunted. ‘Aren’t your parents pro heroes? You’re pretty weak, huh?!’ you squeezed your eyes shut, curling your free hand into a fist. You wanted to hurt them, somehow make them pay for what they were doing to you.

But if you wanted to be a future hero, violent actions wouldn’t necessarily vote well for you. So would you just have to take your beating and move on? ‘We’ll teach you to mess with us,’ you could feel that hand tighten in your hair before they stepped back.

What followed was you catching the scent of something burning and you were quick to realize it was their quirk. That's when fear overpowered your anger especially as you watched those flames in the palm of their hand grow bigger.

You squeezed your eyes shut, just waiting for the burning impact of that fire. But, it never came. Instead, you felt the grip on your arm loosen. “Huh?” you slowly cracked your eyes open and noticed the bully with the flame quirk was now backing away with their hands up. Almost as if they were scared or surrendering.

Then you turned to look at the bully who was loosely holding your arm. They looked shocked, their eyes wide and their jaw hanging open. You almost wanted to ask if they were okay when you noticed their skin and hair turning brown. Then cracks began to appear across the length of their body.

A gasp came when you then watched them turn gray and crumble to dust. Their pressure on your arm now vanished and you watched as that dust brushed over your arm and mixed with the dirt on the ground below.

You pulled your hand back, cradling it to your chest. “W-What just happened?” you muttered in disbelief, your eyes focused on that dust pile before you noticed a shadow. Swallowing, you slowly raised your head and saw the one known as 'Shigaraki' standing before you.

His hand was outstretched and you took a step back. ‘I’m getting out of here! You’re a freak man!’ your attention was now turned to the second bully who wasted no time in running in the direction they came from.

You were holding your breath as you watched them squeeze back through one of the broken sections of the fence. The echo of their steps sounded as they ran down the sidewalk and you finally let out a sigh before looking back at Shigaraki.

“Um…” you weren’t sure what to say, but he did technically save you even though you weren’t entirely sure how he did so in the first place. A gentle breeze came to carry the pile of dust away and you took a step forward.

“What was...that?" the question lingered in the air without an answer before you reached up to rub the back of your head. "T-Thanks for...saving me, I guess?” more silence filled the air and for a moment you wondered if Shigaraki could even talk, he didn’t say anything when you bumped into him and he wasn’t saying anything now.

“M-My name is…Y/n, what’s yours?” you only knew part of his name so far, but it didn’t seem like he was willing to speak to you. He only tilted his head to the side. Did he understand what you were saying, or was he observing you again?

“Uh…” you glanced to the side, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. What else could you say? You glanced down at his hands, once again reminded of how slender his fingers were and without thinking, you reached over.

Gently grasping his hand, you turned it slightly in your palm. But when you felt him tense up, you blinked and looked up. “Hm?” you were surprised that you had gotten that kind of reaction from him. “Are you...does this make you uncomfortable?” you questioned and watched as he slowly shook his head, then you heard his voice.

It was soft but scratchy, barely audible. Yet somehow you managed to understand him. “Why…” he began, making you grow more concerned as he began to tremble. “Why...are you touching me?!” the question was hissed out and you immediately dropped his hand. “S-Sorry!” you exclaimed as you held your hands up.

“I was only-” your words came to a stop when a shadowy figure appeared behind Shigaraki, while you weren’t sure what or who it was. You felt an intense wave of fear wash over you and tried to fight the feeling of your stomach twisting into knots.

More than likely that was your gut feeling telling you to run far away despite the fact of not knowing what you were seeing, but then the shadow spoke. “Tomura…” it said and you recognized the voice as belonging to a male, but his tone was deep and held a certain amount of authority to it that you knew shouldn’t be crossed.

So you remained quiet and latched onto your lip. But your eyes never left the shadowed man. But the sound of Tomura’s voice was distracting and caused you to turn your attention towards him and maybe you were too young to understand why he called the man, “Master.”

But either way, you felt small at that moment and brought your hands up to your chest. You watched as the man Tomura called 'master' reached down to laid his rather large hand against the top of his head.

“You did well,” the man said before his eerie laughter filled the air, making you take a step back. But you ended up stumbling over your feet and yet again found yourself falling to the ground. A soft hiss escaped you as you tried to push yourself back up, missing how the man frowned.

Then he slowly approached you, kneeling down to offer a friendly hand to you. “Y/n,” the way he spoke your name sent a chill down your spine and you immediately froze, no longer caring about that outstretched hand.

“It’s quite a pleasure to meet the child of one of the local heroes here, though I do hope they watch their backs.” the threat seemed to go over your head. But you still sensed there was more to his words and glanced at Tomura who for the moment seemed frozen in place.

Was this his father, his caretaker maybe? How could someone stand to be near someone so...scary? Maybe you’d never fully understand it, but you found yourself crawling away from the man. Effectively distancing yourself from him.

Luckily he seemed to take the hint and slowly rose back to his feet. “Pity,” was the only word he spoke before turning to Tomura. “Come,” he said, almost as if the young boy was a dog. But the single command was all it took for him to move.

You paused and watched from your position on the ground as the two of them made their way to the closest building. The door gave an eerie squeak as it opened and as the man walked inside, you caught a glimpse of what he looked like.

Though you couldn’t make out his face or hair. You could see he looked just like a regular man and he was wearing a black suit and tie. Then your eyes shifted to Tomura who wasted no time in stepping through the doorway. However, he stopped and turned around to look at you, or at least you assume he was.

You weren't entirely sure at first but that burning sensation that began to overwhelm you was the only confirmation you needed to know you were correct and you couldn't help but feel a tad uncomfortable the longer those eyes were on you.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and glanced away as if that would shake the feeling of being some type of prey. Part of you wondered if he was as bad as his ‘master.’ You weren't sure if you wanted to find out and yet, you found yourself wondering if you’d ever see him again.

After a few more moments, he finally turned and closed the door behind him. Leaving you in the empty courtyard covered in dirt and scratches. You slowly turned to look at the fence, the images of what occurred just moments earlier fresh in your mind.

But at least you now knew the weird kid everyone spoke about and a few weeks later, you found the courage to return to that very same courtyard. The fence was still broken but at least it made it easier to climb through.

You keep your hands close to your chest as you ventured further into the area, pausing only to look at the buildings around you. One of the buildings, in particular, had a small balcony and you flinched when you saw Tomura standing here.

Unlike the previous time you saw him, those hands were absent from his body. Your eyes widened as you took note of his face, the most outstanding feature of which was his piercing red eyes. You could faintly make out the wrinkled skin that surrounded those eyes and his lips which also had scarring.

His hands were curled around the metal railing of the balcony, but only three out of five of his fingers were touching it. But those eyes continued to stare at you as the silence kept growing. A gentle breeze came and you watched his unruly black hair carry with it.

Your throat tightened as you tried to think of what you could possibly say to him. “Uh...” you brought your hands up, tapping your index fingers together. “H-Hi?” you almost hated how you stuttered, but your greeting was only returned with an angry expression.

'Oh...' you thought before nervously glancing back and forth. He wasn't responding, what else could you do? You swallowed and took another step forward. "Do...you remember me?" you asked, watching as Tomura tilted his head. "I was here before…" you continued.

"You saved me from those bullies?" he had to remember. Yet again silence filled the air. "I saw your...master?" Maybe if you talked about him, Tomura would feel obligated to start or continue the conversation?

"Is he your father? He's pretty scary an-" Tomura tightened his grip on the railing and dangerously leaned over it. "Don't insult my master!" his voice was high and slightly raspy, but even so. It caught you completely off guard and you stood there like a deer in the headlights.

'So his voice really does sound like that,' you thought, not that it was bad. But what happened next completely threw you off guard and made you take a step back, you were tempted to run but something kept you where you were.

The fact that Tomura had wrapped all five of his fingers around the railing was seemingly normal. But to watch that perfectly fine metal grow rusty within a matter of seconds right before your eyes and then crumble to dust wasn’t.

Your hands clamped over your mouth as you watched that dust be carried off by the wind, just like that bully. Your eyes quickly looked back at Tomura who slowly turned and began to walk down the stairs that were attached to the balcony.

You remained where you were, just watching as the boy proceeded to walk over towards you. More silence filled the air before you glanced to the side. “Uh…” you weren’t sure what to say and the fact Tomura was staring at you in such an intense way made you somewhat uneasy.

But even so, you felt the desire to ask him the question that was threatening to burst from you. The rumors may have been true and maybe Tomura wasn’t the most friendly, but he still saved you, and you were hoping for a new friend.

Having someone to protect you wouldn’t hurt either. “Do you want to be my friend!?” you shouted, taking a step closer and invading his space much more than you intended but Tomura didn’t move back. You partly found that strange when you realized just how close you were to him.

Just inches away from his face and yet close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s breath. “Friend?" Tomura questioned as if the word was foreign to him and you assumed it was. Still, you nodded. “Don’t you want a friend, what do you do um...all by yourself?” you questioned as you shyly took a step away from him.

Feeling a soft flush wash over your cheeks as you placed your hands behind your back. You heard a frustrated growl before Tomura reached up to scratch at his neck which would have been normal if it didn’t seem like he was digging his nails far too deep.

Leaving behind almost bloody lines. “Are you okay?” you questioned as you reached out to take hold of his hands, but he ripped them away from your grip moments later. “Don’t touch me!” he hissed out, making you flinch in the process.

“Sorry!” you said as you raised your hands up, trying to show you meant no harm. He muttered something under his breath, though you couldn’t make out the words. You assumed they were about you. But maybe he was too afraid to touch anything with his hands considering what happened to the railing.

“Are you...afraid of your quirk?” you hadn’t actually intended for the question to slip, but it was too late to take back now. “None of your business!” Tomura hissed and for a moment you wondered if he was going to hurt you because he stepped closer to you with his hands raised up as if he were ready to choke you.

But instead, he paused and lowered them. “Why don’t you just leave, master won’t be happy that you’re here,” you blinked, there he was using the term ‘master’ again. He turned to walk away but you reached out, grabbing hold of his hand.

“I said don’t touch me!” he snapped as he tried to pull his arm back which caused you to tighten your grip, you were not letting go and Tomura seemed surprised at this. His red orbs widened with curiosity before that anger returned.

“Let go!” he demanded as he began to flail his arm up and down, but your grip remained. “Your quirk isn’t hurting me!” you exclaimed and all at once he came to a pause. He narrowed his eyes and you felt a chill go down your spine when he looked at you.

His eyebrows were slit and his jaw was slightly clenched as if he wanted to say something but also wouldn’t allow himself to. But somehow, you found yourself smiling and squeezed his hand. Though you didn’t realize the actual danger you were putting yourself in by touching the hand of someone with an unstable quirk.

Especially having witnessed how it worked on top of that. But, Tomura seemed to take that reassuring squeeze well and glanced at your conjoined hands. “You’re just like…” his words came to a pause and he looked back at you before pulling his hand out of your grip.

“You really wanna be friends with me!?” he snapped and though you were a little saddened by the fact he pulled away, you nodded. Tomura clenched his jaw and his hands curled into fists. “Why would I want to be friends with anyone!?” he snapped as he stomped his foot against the ground causing you to flinch back.

“Uh...b-because…” you frantically tried to think of an answer. “W-We can do it in secret!” you blurted out and though you were unsure as to why those seemingly random words left your mouth, you hoped Tomura would agree to it.

After all, if he was so worried about being friends with anyone, a secret friendship could work out. “Secret? What do you mean secret!?” he questioned and you watched as his fingers twitched slightly.

Part of you wondered if his quirk brought him any pain, but you didn’t want to push your luck by asking another seemingly personal question. “Well…” you began as you brought your hands up and once more shyly pressed the tips of your fingers together.

“Maybe...we could meet every other day, somewhere you want and...play?” you suggested, though your words came off as more clueless than anything, and that caused Tomura to raise his eyebrow. “Are you guessing...what’s the point of guessing!?” you flinched and shook your head.

“I wasn’t guessing!” you stated in your defense. “I was...suggesting," you were unsure of how he’d react to your words or what actions set him off. Maybe too many words confused him or maybe when someone was unclear of their intentions towards him?

“Mm…” Tomura groaned and once again reached up to begin scratching his neck, you could see the red lines that were created just a few moments ago but you weren’t sure if you wished to stop him this time.

Instead, you allowed him to do as he wanted even if the urge to grab his wrists and pull them away was strong. “Fine!” he suddenly snapped before he lowered his hands, allowing them to smack against his thighs. Then he pointed to the ground.

“Meet here...tomorrow at 8 PM, you got that!?” it sounded more like an order than a friendly agreement and yet you found yourself nodding. “Okay,” you replied before Tomura turned and began to walk away. “Huh, wait! Where are you going?” you questioned.

Yet Tomura continued to walk away. “Master will be angry if I’m late for training, don’t forget our meeting,” why he felt the need to remind you yet again that you were supposed to meet him was strange. But you didn’t question it, rather you watched him disappear back into the building he had come from before you turned to leave.

Somehow you recognized how he was feeling, your parents at times subjected you to training and you always felt bad when you fell short of what they expected. Part of you wondered what they would think of your new friendship with Tomura.

But then again you did say it would be a secret friendship and as promised that’s exactly what it was. Despite it being difficult at times to sneak out of your house to meet Tomura who always seemed to prefer seeing you at night.

But it was nice to know you had someone to talk to and someone you could call your friend. Even if the two of you shared a dark secret that came back to haunt you just a few weeks into your friendship. Though Tomura had gotten used to you and your touch and the way you would cradle his hand.

He even let you guide him around and you were relieved at how well your friendship was blossoming. But since news of a missing child spread, the very same child that you watched Tomura turn to dust. A curfew was set for all children in the surrounding area.

If any children were caught roaming the streets after dark, they were to be escorted back home by a member of the police force. Yet for a while, you had managed to avoid such a thing happening. “Tomura...what if they find out!?” The question came one night after you two had almost been caught for the third time.

You knew your luck was eventually going to run out and if that happened. You could only imagine how disappointed your parents would feel. “The heroes can’t do anything…” he replied and at that moment you had believed him.

Considering you knew they could never actually find the missing child, the missing bully who was so cruel to you. But as you previously suspected, your luck ran out the day Tomura and yourself had agreed to meet at the nearby docks sometime after midnight.

The police seemed to be anticipating your arrival or maybe they were simply stationed there for another reason entirely. Either way, this is the very thing that ended your friendship with Tomura. When your parents found out about it, they blamed Tomura for the fact you willingly disobeyed them and broke curfew.

This prompted them to take drastic action and relocate from the seemingly dangerous town you had lived in your whole life. Luckily they never suspected you of having been a witness to what happened to that missing child.

But without so much as a goodbye, you were taken away from the only home you had ever known and the only true friend you ever had. It should go without saying that your parents expected you to follow the path of a hero.

While you weren’t opposed to doing so, you always seemed to stop yourself from reaching your full potential whenever you thought back to the first night you met Tomura. Could you honestly call yourself a hero if you had allowed someone to get murdered?

Despite the fact you were indeed getting bullied by them, still you somehow managed to graduate and become a semi-known hero. Though underground work was your specialty. The most recent of your accomplishments had caught the attention of the news.

Which was your single-handed capturing and arrest of a small group of individuals belonging to something called the Paranormal Liberation Front. “Hm, it’s nice to know what shit they put on TV these days,” Dabi grumbled as he tilted his head back and downed the last remaining bit of beer from his can.

The television displayed the short interview taken with you after the arrest was made and the reporter was asking you a few questions. “How’d they end up capturing all of them!? I bet they had help!” Himiko accused as she pointed at the television with an angry scowl across her face before she turned to Tomura.

“Right Shigaraki!?” she questioned, but it appeared the man was too focused on the television to answer. His eyes were wide as if he was surprised by what he was seeing, but such emotion was very rare coming from a man of Tomura’s stature.

“Huh?” Himiko blinked and watched as Tomura rose to his feet and walked up to the television. Dabi cocked his head to the side, taking note of Tomura’s strange behavior as well. “What’s the matter with ya?” he questioned in a snarky manner before waving his arm.

“You’re blocking the TV, move, why dontcha!?” he snapped, and while Tomura normally didn’t let any type of disrespect go without proper punishment. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He stood there watching the digital image of you continue to talk.

‘Tell us Y/n what first inspired you to become a hero?’ the reporter held the microphone up to your mouth. Tomura continued to watch, feeling a strange sense of recognition as he looked at you. ‘Well...’ your voice echoed from the speakers of the television.

‘When I was a kid, I used to get bullied a lot. Then one day I squeezed through a broken fence while the bullies were still chasing me,’ the gears inside his mind continued to turn. Then a memory from when he was small began to surface.

‘I ended up running into another kid who lived in the neighborhood and in a way he was bullied too,’ Tomura tilted his head up, his eyes narrowing as he looked to the ceiling. “Bullied…” he repeated the word as his bangs slowly fell to caress the sides of his face.

His memory as of late seemed to be unlocked. Bringing back numerous long-forgotten moments from his early childhood and while he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to remember them. He raised his hands, his fingers straining as they curled inward.

“That’s right...they used to call me, heh, a freak…” a chuckle left his mouth as he kept his head tilted back, but he continued to listen. ‘But he saved me from those bullies and I haven’t forgotten that,’ you folded your hands in front of you and turned your attention to the ground.

Tomura missed the way you frowned before looking back at the camera. But he caught the sad undertone within the next words you spoke. ‘I never properly thanked him, but my family moved to another part of Japan and I never saw him again. But I think of him every day,’ you finished.

The sound of the reporter's laughter echoed before they proceeded to wrap the story up. “What the hell is wrong with ya?” Dabi’s voice came and it was clear he was slightly annoyed by Tomura’s antics, Himiko on the other hand seemed rather accepting.

“Ohhhh, do you know that hero Shigaraki!?” she questioned excitedly as she hopped to her feet and proceeded to bounce up and down. Tomura blinked and slowly lowered his head, then pointed at the television. Your image still remained on the screen as you waved goodbye to the viewers.

“Y/n…” he spoke your hero name as it was displayed on the bottom of the screen, catching the attention of both Himiko and Dabi. “Is our next target,” he declared before he turned to Dabi. “Figure out where that hero will be next,” he instructed, in turn causing Dabi to scoff.

“Why do I always get stuck with the lame work?” he questioned, but nonetheless would comply with Tomura’s wishes. Though you took your job as a hero seriously, that doesn't mean you didn't set time aside for yourself.

Though it was a little troublesome when you received attention as most people recognized you out of your hero costume. But that was alright. It had still been a pleasant day at the mall and you let out a sigh of relief as you placed your bags onto the floor and took a seat on the edge of the fountain.

The sound of the running water seemed to put you at ease as you glanced around and listened to the chatter as it filled the air. It was nice to see how busy the mall could get and how happy everyone seemed to be while in one another's company.

"Do you make that a habit?" came a high raspy voice that almost sounded familiar. “Huh?” you turned to look at the person that spoke. It was a man dressed in red shoes, dark pants, and a black hood that concealed his face.

But you could still make out the strands of silver wavy hair that hung down to frame the sides of that pale face and you noticed how severely chapped and scarred his lips were. However, you decided to keep such a comment to yourself and addressed his question.

“Make what into a habit?” more confusion washed over you as the man chuckled and proceeded to take the seat next to you. Though considering this was a public place, you couldn’t exactly tell him not to sit next to you.

But you still felt some unease and yet something seemed familiar about this man. But you assumed it was only due to the fact that he probably reminded you of someone you saw in one of the many crowds that often occurred after you finished saving the day.

You glanced at the man a moment more before looking ahead of you, mistakenly leaving yourself vulnerable. As soon as you felt three fingers grasp the back of your neck, an involuntary gasp escaped you. However, before you could turn your head, the man gave you a simple instruction.

“Keep looking forward,” he stated as his grip grew tighter and you could feel how his nails began to dig into your skin. “You know this reminds me of about a year or so ago when I was sitting here with one of those Yuuei brats…” the word left his mouth in a growl and you felt your heart begin to accelerate.

You had felt fear before. In fact, it was a normal part of your everyday hero work. Knowing that whenever you went on a mission or faced a dangerous villain, there was a possibility that you wouldn’t come back alive. But even so, you didn’t want to die here.

Not in public and not in front of all of these people. Your jaw clenched and you slowly glanced at him from the corner of your eye, catching a brief glimpse of a smile. 'Is he happy to be doing this!?' you frantically thought.

“Hopefully, you’re a little more cooperative than him. Now tell me something, hero…” you noticed how his voice softened, that previous anger from his memory of a Yuuei student gone for the moment. But you still debated about answering him.

“...What?” you replied, continuing to feel the pressure of those nails creating indents to the back of your neck. “Do you remember me?” he questioned and your body slightly jolted as you once more looked at him.

His hood was pulled back some and you could finally see his eyes which were colored red and had a severe amount of dried skin surrounding them. ‘Why is he asking if I remember him?' you thought, you certainly didn't recall meeting him before.

Then again, 'The...boy I met when I was small had red eyes too, but dark hair. Don't tell me...no, I refuse to believe that!’ Tomura must have sensed your realization. Even if you choose to deny it as many heroes in your position would. But that was just the nature of heroes, wasn’t it?

His fingers squeezed your neck, heroes never wanted to face the real problem until it was too late and yet they still got people gawking over them. “You already know what my quirk can do, don’t you?” your body stiffened as the image of that metal bar crumbling to dust came to mind.

“So I wouldn’t suggest trying to run now,” he leaned over, wanting to catch a glimpse of your terrified face, and boy, you didn’t disappoint. Your eyebrows were knit together, creating crease lines across your forehead and your eyes were full of confusion and fear.

Feeling rather satisfied with himself he leaned back with a content sigh, there was something so riveting knowing when you backed a hero into a corner with no escape. He brought his leg up, resting it across his opposite knee and you watched as he lightly swayed his foot almost as if he were listening to a catchy song.

“You know, I wasn’t sure at first,” you wanted to turn to look at him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move at the moment. Not with the continued pressure of those fingers on your neck, not knowing what he could do to you when all five fingers made contact with your skin.

“Why that image of you on television seemed so...familiar,” you could hear his voice heighten in pitch and he tilted his head towards the ceiling as another laugh escaped him. “That is until one of my lackeys dug up some information on you,” your eyes widened.

‘Lackeys?’ you thought. “Oh, I bet you didn’t even realize you had someone stalking you,” a twisted smirk appeared across his face as he leaned close to your ear and a shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath. “Watching your every move,” God...were you really that blind or unaware?

He could have had this ‘lackey’ attack you or worse the people around you. “Oh and before you ask, yes...I know where you live,” that alone made your stomach drop, at any moment the ‘lackey’ or Tomura himself could have broken into your home and done God only knows what.

“Well anyways,” Tomura said as he leaned away from you and turned to look at the crowd that continued to chatter amongst themselves, completely unaware of the danger you were in or the potential danger they could be in. Society was stupid or at least in Tomura’s opinion it was.

“Then it hit me,” it was slightly amazing how he could go right back to the story as if he hadn’t told you something that could mentally scar you for life. “You’re that brat from my childhood.” Despite the word ‘brat’ coming out with yet another growl, he chuckled a few seconds later.

“The one who witnessed me kill that other kid, heh. Bet you never told anyone about that, huh? Guess even heroes can hold dark secrets,” another shiver ran down your spine and your hands tightened around the edge of the fountain.

Your vision blurred and you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you as your thoughts multiplied. For years you had been keeping that fact a secret and for one good reason. If you revealed what you allowed to happen as a young child, that you were a witness, an accessory to murder.

Your hero career as you knew it would be over, it wouldn’t matter to anyone that the incident occurred when you were only a child. Everyone would just ask why you didn't do anything, why you didn’t try to save someone from certain harm or death.

Did Tomura know that as well? The sound of his laughter seemed to bring you back out of your thoughts and you flinched when you noticed what he was doing. He was bent over, his hand still grasping the back of your neck, and a wicked smirk was on his face.

“Oh, you look horrified. Isn’t that funny? A hero who's afraid of a little murder, pff,” his smirk was quickly replaced with a present frown and an unamused expression played across his features. “Isn’t that what you’re good at?” his voice carried a certain tone to it, almost as if what he was stating was a known fact.

Maybe he was right in a sense, not all heroes were good. But they certainly weren’t murderers. Your nails dug into the concrete foundation of the fountain and you opened your mouth to speak. That is until you felt him press a fourth finger against your neck and you immediately froze.

“Oh? Were you about to say something?” he mocked. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of my quirk now,” once more your eyebrows came down and you weren’t sure what he was talking about. You did recall trying to hold his hand as a child, but once more you were in doubt that this is the monster that little boy grew up to be.

“Why don’t we take a little walk?” he suggested as he stood up and a cry left your lips as he proceeded to yank you up by the neck. You reached up, wrapping your fingers around his arm. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned as he looked down at you.

His red eyes now holding a dark appearance to them and that unamused expression was back on his face. “You try and pull my hand away and I’ll either disintegrate you or let go and you can watch me murder these innocent mall-goers,” well that made your choice clear.

Though you were angry and felt utterly defeated for having so carelessly found yourself in this situation. Maybe it was clear why you were in the lower ranks. “...fine,” you replied as you released your grip on his arm and yet again heard him chuckle.

“Wise choice, hero,” he stated before he began to drag you through the crowd. “Play nice and I’ll keep my word,” you weren’t even sure where he was guiding you. But part of you suspected he’d just take you to an empty field where he’d finish you off.

Instead, you found yourself being guided through the equally busy streets of Japan with nothing but the sound of silence between yourself and Tomura. That is until you finally came to a stop. “Hm…” it wasn’t hard to figure out you had stopped in front of some type of large business building.

“Detnerat Company?” you read the sign out loud, though it didn’t sound at all familiar to you. “Mhm,” Tomura responded with a nod, he had lowered his hood some time ago. Revealing his shoulder-length hair and some bandages that you assumed he got from some type of fight he was in.

But unlike when you were a child, you prevented yourself from asking about the origin of the bandages. Instead, you simply began to walk inside the building. Even with Tomura’s hand still grasping the back of your neck, everyone seemed to act as though everything was fine.

They greeted or bowed respectfully when Tomura came into view and for a moment, you didn’t want to believe he owned some type of business. But that seemed to be the only explanation as you two entered an elevator and you watched Tomura press the button to the executive floor.

Your hands curled into the front of your shirt as you felt the elevator begin to move, giving a soft ding with every floor it passed. You were slightly worried about what the top floor held and debated about the possibility of you getting ambushed.

Your neck pulsed and part of you wondered if Tomura’s hand was getting cramped from having kept his hold on you for the last hour or so. You slowly glanced at him and he still looked unamused with that present frown on his lips.

You stumbled some when the elevator finally came to a stop and hissed softly as Tomura just yanked you back towards him. You wanted to take your chances, reach up and attempt to yank his hand off your neck but when the elevator doors finally opened.

You found yourself being thrown forward. “Ah!” you stumbled over your own feet with your arms outstretched to attempt to cushion your fall. Your knees hit the floor first, followed by your hands that pulsed from the impact of trying to catch yourself.

Your hair was hanging in your face and you could hear Tomura step off the elevator which then closed. You remained on the floor, trying to gather if anyone else was present in the room. But you were only greeted with the sound and vision of Tomura walking past you.

“Get up already hero,” he stated as he walked over to the large set of windows that made up one of the walls of the room. Allowing him a view of the cityscape. You lifted your head, looking confused as you watched Tomura’s reflection in the glass.

It was a little unnerving to see those red pupils slowly move to look at you and more than likely from Tomura’s position, he could also see your reflection. “I said get up,” he repeated, the words coming out with a hiss and it was clear to you he was getting impatient.

You swallowed down your fear, why did he bring you all the way to the top floor only to release his hold on you? Maybe because there was only one logical way of escaping, you turned to look at the elevator from over your shoulder.

You also doubted your chances of actually trying to jump out of the window considering how high up you were. Maybe Tomura had already figured out he could effectively trap you in this room? Still, it would be dangerous to anger him and part of you still refused to come to terms with the fact this was the same boy you met all those years ago.

But somehow as you rose to your feet, you couldn’t help but picture that same little boy who stood on a balcony looking down at you. That same feeling of being small washed over you, Tomura was still looking down at you.

But as a hero, you were more than accustomed to playing the part you were assigned. Acting as though nothing could actually bring you down and it was those ‘acting’ skills that made you straighten out your posture which seemed to catch Tomura’s attention as he turned around to face you.

His eyes tracing you from head to toe as if trying to detect more weaknesses. You narrowed your eyes, trying to force yourself to be unshaken by the man. Funny, you never felt this way as a child. In fact, Tomura was the one person you enjoyed spending time with, regardless of your strange friendship.

The more peaceful moments of your childhood were spent conversing with Tomura in private with the darkness of the night covering you. Where no one could touch or bother you, much like now. “Huh?” you found your defensive stance fading when Tomura held his hand out to you.

No words exchanged, just his fingers flexing slightly as if motioning for you to take hold just like you did all those years ago. You latched onto your bottom lip and glanced up at Tomura, feeling a shiver course down your spine as you noticed his stare hadn’t averted from you.

“Take my hand!” he suddenly snapped which caused you to stumble back. His voice seemed to echo in the empty room and you could hear the glass bottles that lined the shelf on one side of the room rattle. “What?” the word involuntarily left your mouth, and in response, you could hear Tomura’s teeth scraping together.

Oh right...don’t want to anger him. You held your breath and with some uncertainty placed your hand in his, though you noticed how cold his hand was and the rough texture of his skin. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid when all five of his fingers closed around the top of your hand.

But you didn’t have much time to think as you were forcefully pulled forward. You ended up smacking your chin into Tomura’s shoulder and your free hand pressed against his chest. You clenched your jaw, trying to prevent yourself from hissing as you felt Tomura’s grip tighten painfully around your hand.

His nails began to dig into the thin layer of skin that made up the top of your hand. If that wasn't any indication he was feeling angry, the three fingers that came to grasp your jaw were. A cry left your mouth as your head was painfully tilted up and you were forced to watch as Tomura leaned down to your height.

You could feel the dry strands that made up his hair caress your cheeks as he pressed his forehead against yours, making sure you couldn’t look away from him. A strange feeling came over you when you realized Tomura was enjoying inflicting this type of pain on you.

He knew his actions would cause both a painful and shy reaction in you. Despite the fact he was hurting you, the way your heart accelerated when he leaned close, made an affectionate gesture towards you was undeniable. Was there something wrong with you?

Another twisted smile came to Tomura’s face just before he spoke. “You’re just like her,” he stated as if you were supposed to know who he was speaking of. A soft hiss escaped you and your knees bent when that grip of his continued to tighten around your hand.

You could feel your bones creak and you wondered if he was planning on breaking them. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “What...what are you talking about?” you spoke from behind your clenched teeth, now feeling a sense of anger fill you as you glared at Tomura.

But he only seemed to be amused by this and leaned away from you, and in doing so, released his hold on your jaw. But you could feel the indents he made with his nails which pulsed softly, then that smile of his faded.

“I hate her,” he stated before he yanked your hand over his shoulder causing your chest to press against his in the process. One of your legs was raised, pressing against Tomura’s hip while the foot of your opposite leg just barely pressed against the floor.

Then he leaned down, though unlike before he didn’t feel the need to press his forehead against yours. Rather, he seemed too absorbed in his anger. “And I hate you,” he growled before violently shoving you away, and once more you found yourself stumbling before falling to the floor.

Your hand was now aching and you clasped it in your opposite palm, trying to rub it to ease the pain and discomfort that was currently pulsing through your bones. Jeez, just how hard did he squeeze it? Naturally, your fear was still present.

But your anger almost overpowered it as you glared at Tomura from your position on the floor and watched as he began to circle around you. It was almost impossible to follow his emotional pattern, he flipped between anger and happiness so quickly.

From sanity to insanity in the blink of an eye. Just what happened during those years you were away from each other? Had his father or ‘master’ as Tomura called him, damaged him this much? “You call yourself a hero in this twisted society, you enjoy that title. Don’t you?” he continued to walk around you, eyeing you like prey.

“But you’re no hero, are you?” Where was that question coming from? You continued to rub your sore hand, refusing to answer him. “I'm sure you’d never admit that because the truth is...if the rest of those ‘heroes’ found out what you did, what you allowed happen," he paused in front of you.

"You’d be considered the enemy, they’d turn on you so fast, wouldn’t they? A so-called member of their own kind,” he loomed over you, waiting for your response. A soft growl rumbled in your throat and you lowered your hands before cautiously standing on your feet.

“What are you talking about?” you hissed before pointing your finger at him. “What happened to you!? You weren’t like this when we were…” on second thought, was that even a valid argument? No one was like they were as a child, but a large part of you.

Maybe the hero inside of you wanted to know what Tomura had been through and if there was any way you could possibly save him. Some heroes still believed in ‘It’s never too late’ and sadly you were one of them. But in Tomura’s case, it might be a tricky and slippery slope.

“Heh,” he took a step towards you. “Isn’t it better to allow people to have the memory of you being a hero rather than learn just how heartless you are,” he questioned. “After all,” he tilted his head back and that smile on his face grew larger, almost psychotic.

“You are an accessory to murder,” yet another cry came when you found yourself suddenly being pulled forward thanks to Tomura’s fingers which were currently curled into the collar of your shirt. Your hands immediately reached up, grasping Tomura’s wrist.

But unlike you, the pressure of nails digging into flesh didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. In fact, he continued speaking. “And what would people think of that, hm? Knowing the hero they look up to is nothing but a villain in disguise” you felt your throat go dry and your heart sunk in your chest.

Your face twisted in disbelief, your eyebrows were raised and your jaw hung open. Was this what checkmate felt like? You couldn’t deny he was right, your image would be ruined if word spread that you not only witnessed the murder of a child when you were small, but that you allowed it to happen.

That you indeed were an accessory to it. Your hero career would be tainted and yet, “Is that all you wanted to say to me?!” you snapped before taking a step back. Successfully yanking Tomura’s hand away from your shirt.

“That you’re only trying to blackmail me!?” Though not a terrible plan, it didn’t exactly seem like the evilest thing one could come up with, and yet it was effective enough to put your hero career on the line. “What do you want!?” you slapped your hands against your thighs, looking at Tomura with an expression between confused and angry.

“Hmph,” he glanced to the side, his lips now perched to one side. “You’re just like her,” he commented, repeating an earlier statement of his that seemed to confuse you all the more. “What…who are you talking about!?” you demanded but kept your distance from Tomura as he raised his hand and seemed dazed as he stared at his palm.

“Hana...always held my hand,” your head cocked to the side. “Hana?” you repeated, assuming she was another friend or perhaps someone from Tomura’s past that held some special type of significance to him. “...my sister,” he whispered as he lifted his head up and looked at you.

Once again he seemed to shift into some type of calm sanity. “She was never afraid to hold my hand either,” he stated before his eyes darkened, and that distant look was present in them once more. You take a step back, but Tomura only countered this move by continuing to walk forward.

Despite your commands of, “Stop!” he continued to force you into a corner. His hands slammed against the wall, one on each side of your head. “But she left,” he stated and somehow something finally seemed to click.

When you met Tomura, he was living with his ‘father’ and seemingly was an only child. Had his sister died, what about the rest of his family? Was that why he addressed his ‘father’ as ‘master’ because he wasn’t actually blood-related to the man?

So many questions filled your head, but none of them could actually escape due to the next set of words that left Tomura’s mouth. “But you won’t,” somehow you knew that wasn’t a threat, nor a command. It was a fact.

“After all,” he began, his voice sounding more chipper as he leaned away from you. “Isn’t that what old friends are for!? To keep secrets!?” he questioned as he turned to walk away from you with his hands folded behind his back.

“Of course, I’m sure hero society will be shocked when they find out you’re missing. But what’s one less hero anyway?” he said as he shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the array of glass bottles that were previously rattling due to the volume of his voice.

You remained against the wall and watched him pull out two glasses. “Kurogiri isn't here, so I suppose I’ll have to make the drinks myself,” he muttered and though you weren’t sure who ‘Kurogiri’ was, you assumed it was another member that made up Tomura’s group.

Still, you heard the soft ‘clinks’ of ice hit the glass before the sound of liquid followed. You slowly eased off the wall and watched as Tomura glanced over his shoulder at you, seemingly unbothered by the way you continued to stare at him.

“How about a toast to the now-former hero?” you knew by his tone that he was mocking you. But still, he turned around and raised a glass in the air. The ice swirled around the brown-tinted alcohol and you didn’t miss that smile of satisfaction that came to Tomura’s chapped lips.

“You’re going to stay here forever,” he commented just before he tilted his head back and proceeded to down the drink. Somehow, you knew he might be correct. But even so, you would figure out a way to save him and bring out that boy you used to know.

#tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader

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vechkinfan · 4 years ago

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Jack

A/n: I found this little one shot while I was looking through the deep dark depths of my google docs the other day and figured I might as well share it. Its a young Joker fic, and my fist time writing for the joker so please take it easy on me!😁

Pairing: Joker x OFC

Summary: A brief glimpse into the Jokers past, memories that he would rather keep buried, memories that reminded him of someone that held his heart. A heart that now burned for Gotham's reckoning.

Warnings: Talks of abuse, swearing, angst, vague talk of death

Jack found himself climbing the dirty, half rotten stairs of his apartment building. The light bulbs on every other floor, blown out or stolen, casting a darkness over him as he made his way up.

His mother had one of her 'friends' as she liked to call them, over. So he made himself scarce for the afternoon, like he always managed to. Jack weaseled his way out of the apartment when those creeps were over. Especially the ones who would come right in and give him those looks. Those perverted sideways eyes when his mother was too plastered to notice any different. Looks that sent a piercing shiver across his whole body, and an uneasiness to settle in his gut. He much preferred the men who would come over and pretended like he didn't exist.

The sun had long since started to sink in the sky as he climbed the stairs towards home and Jack knew he had to make it before the streetlights in the narrows started to flicker. The evil in his apartment was one thing, but the evils that lurched about once all the sunlight was extinguished in the sky was much more frightening.

Rounding the last flight of stairs, his eyes landed on a girl sitting at the top of them. Her back pressed against the door jam of the closest apartment door. One foot stretched out in front of her blocking his path and the other bent, shaking vigorously on the next step down.

She was sucking on a red popsicle, as her fingers drummed against the skin of her knee that poked free from a hole in her ratty jeans.

Jack knew she just moved in a few months back, but he never crossed paths with her before now. However every time he opened the door to let in one of his mothers 'friends', she would be sitting at the top of those stairs. Usually a pack of playing cards in her hands, flicking them one by one, aimlessly down to the next landing.

"What flavor is that?" Jack asked, curious at what her voice would sound like. He'd been intrigued by her presence the moment he saw her all those weeks ago.

Pulling the half melted popsicle from her mouth, the girl turned her head slightly to gaze towards him. Her dark brown hair in a curly mess that covered half of her face, but not enough for Jack to miss the darkness of her left eye. It almost appeared black, the deep brown of her iris engulfing her pupil, giving her a truly ominous appearance.

"Cherry." She answered, her voice nothing what he expected. It held a delicate raspiness, nowhere near the point where it matched Ms. Emerson two floors up who had been smoking 3 packs a day since the depression. There was a softness to it though, one that made Jack want to hear more from her. "You live in the apartment cross from me don't you?"

Nodding his head, Jack shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Sure do."

She sat in silence after that, and he stood a few stairs below quietly staring at her. His feet shuffling against the creaky old floor board, wondering if this would be the end of their talk. Perhaps it'd be the last time they spoke at all. Jack knew the Narrows had people shuffling around from place to place, like one of them scam shell games. She very well could be gone by morning.

"I can bring you one next time…. If you want?" Swinging her leg around, she sat so she was facing him. Both feet planted one step down as she licked the red sugary liquid that was starting to drip down the wooden popsicle stick and onto the top of her hand.

"I got two left in the freezer." Her voice was soft and held a nervousness that made fighting off a sly grin for Jack very difficult.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Hustling up the stairs, Jack found himself sitting down beside her.

His eyes getting a better glance at the girl, in the low light of the stairwell. Now he could tell she was using her hair to hide the right side of her face. Her right eye was an awful shade of purple, and the lid swollen so badly Jack knew she must be having a hard time seeing.

As he let his eyes pan across her face, he noticed her lip that was stained with cherry popsicle was also busted open. The girl next to him seemed to have come from a similar home as himself. It was near luck that Jack hadn't gotten his ass handed to him by one of his mother friends in a while. Talking back was a habit that he couldn't quit no matter how much he was beaten for it. Not to mention the fit of laughter that usually escaped his thin lips as a belt or a fist swung in his direction didn't help either.

"You got a name?" He asked, finally dragging his eyes back to meet her dark gaze.

"Billy."

Furrowing his brow and giving his head a subtle tilt, he wondered if she was fucking with him.

"That's a boy's name." He puffed out a small laugh. However the girl beside him didn't react at all.

"I know, you don't gotta remind me." She shrugged her shoulders, before finishing off the popsicle and throwing the wood stick down the stairs.

"It's your nickname right?" Jack couldn't quite stop himself with the questions. Usually he kept to himself and avoided people, but she… there was just something different about her. Something that drew Jack in like a moth to a flame.

He knew his interest was purely the result of her moving directly across the hall and appearing to be close to his age, if she had moved three flights up and was a little frilly girl, Jack was sure he wouldn't have even batted an eyelash in her direction as he carried on home.

Shaking her head and rolling her eye, she was the one to laugh now. "No, my momma lost her first baby, who was a boy when he was real little. She ain't been right in the head since." Jack watched as she picked at the frayed edge of the side pocket of her faded army green vest while she spoke. "So when she found out she was having me, she just knew I was a boy. The doctors told her different, but she didn't really care what they thought. So she named me Billy."

Shoving her hands into her vest pockets now, she quickly pulled out her deck of cards and began to shuffle them absentmindedly.

"Billy's not a bad name, I mean there was Billy the kid that robbed banks in the old west right? Like some badass cowboy outlaw… Maybe one day I could live up to that name." Jack's eyes watched as she expertly flipped the cards against themselves, the loud noise filling the hallway.

"Hate to break it to you, Billy the kid never robbed banks. He's just known for murdering people."

Peering up at him from the corner of her eye, her posture deflated, "Oh…." Billy sighed.

They sat there in silence after that, Jack feeling some form of regret telling her about Billy the kid. The girl had seemed thrilled in her blissful unawareness, so happy with only a shared name that connected the two. Which was utterly ridiculous, and in any other circumstance Jack would have enjoyed watching the girls dreams come crashing down from the clouds. However it was like a small light had been snuffed inside of her and Jack hated that he caused that. Which blew his mind, cause why would he care about some girl he just met and her no good thoughts. She'd be gone in a few weeks, out of his life for good! The narrows would swallow her up just like it did the other kids, and he really shouldn't have cared. But he did on some level, and it fucking bothered him.

"Billy where the fuck you at, you little piece of shit?" An angry voice screamed from just beyond the door she had been leaning against. The abruptness caused the girl to flinch and drop the stack of cards she was holding.

They fell like dominos down the stairs, fluttering off in all sorts of directions. Making a fucking mess.

Jack watched as she threw herself off the steps and down the stairs chasing after all the playing cards. "Fuck I'm gonna be in so much trouble." She muttered to herself as she frantically began the daunting task.

Without much thought, Jack did something that surprised himself again. He stood up and grabbed a few of the cards that had fallen towards the top of the stairs. Bunching them together in his hand, before looking down at the Ace of hearts that was face up. The corner dog-eared like a well read book, from constant use probably.

"I said where the fuck you at girl." A man ripped the door open to her apartment, and stumbled out. The stench of bad tequila filling the air almost immediately.

"I-im I'm sorry I…" Billy stuttered out as she crawled on the ground grabbing the last of the cards. Her hands trembled bad enough that Jack could tell from where he stood that she was terrified.

Eyeing the man cautiously, Jack saw him take a step closer to the edge of the stairs. His arm raised slightly, fingers twitching, ready to strike her hard when she finally made her way back to him.

"Sorry, I tripped into Billy while I was coming down the steps. Made her drop her cards." Jack lied with a laugh, and held up the few in his hands. "I was just helping her pick them up."

The drunken slob of a man, took a steadying breath, probably knowing he couldn't pummel a kid that wasn't his own. The man's overtly round face, covered in a patchy beard and a badly trimmed mustache that had the remnants of cheese puffs littered throughout it, gave Jack a nasty look. His lip turned up in pure disgust.

"Yeah well watch where you fucking walk next time." He flicked his hand at Jack, and then turned his attention to Billy. Who was now standing up straight at the bottom of the landing, cards in hand. "You, " He pointed at her with a chubby accusatory finger, "pick up your goddamn mess and get in the house, and don't make me fucking tell you again."

Jack watched as the man turned ungracefully on his heel and stumbled back from the pit in which he came. Slamming the door behind him with such power, some of the cracked plaster on the ceiling fell to the floor.

"You didn't have to lie."

"I know." He heard her take a few hesitant steps up, until she was standing side by side with himself. "I ain't in the mood to watch an ass kicking at the moment." He couldn't stop the tiny laugh that escaped him at his own humorless joke.

Tilting his head towards Billy, he finally held out the few cards that he managed to collect. She greedily took them back into her possession, and Jack watched as the girl seemed to be counting them to herself. Her fingers flipping past each number making sure they were all accounted for.

"Thank you." Her voice was softer than anything Jack had ever heard as she finished what she was doing and tucked the cards back into her vest pocket.

"He hit you a lot?" Jack asked aloud, as the girl pushed past him and towards her apartment door.

Shrugging her shoulders, Billy nodded her head. "Not as much as my real dad did, so I'm lucky enough. I know some kids got it worse than me, so I'm not complaining."

"Lucky?" He quirked a brow at her choice of words. Luck was nowhere to be seen in the Narrows, especially not in that girls apartment.

Perhaps the girl had been struck in the head so many times it actually made her dense. It wouldn't be a surprise to him if that was the case, because no one, and he meant no one, would ever call themselves lucky with the life she seemingly led.

"You got to believe in something, right?" She smirked. "Luck seems more plausible than some god or a superhero saving me. Plus I got this." Reaching back into her pocket the girl drew out a single card, and quickly flicked it over to him.

Jack caught it and huffed an amused laugh. His eyes falling upon the joker card that belonged to her deck. The jester was skillfully juggling three knives while he balanced with one foot on a large green and purple circus ball. The character itself was off putting, his face painted white, his lips smudged with red paint that made his maniacal grin even more pronounced. His jester hat constructed out of oddly colored rattlesnakes, multiple wrapped around one another to give its iconic shape. Their rattling tails hung as the bells at the tips. It was clearly far from the typical playing card one could get at the Bodega down the block.

"It's my lucky card, bad things don't happen as often when I have it on me."

Jack couldn't help but continue to stare at it. The wheels in his mind spun endlessly with hundreds of questions, but he knew he'd never have time to get them answered. She was on borrowed time as it was, and he didn't want to hold her up further. Cause if he did, the girl probably wouldn't be able to see at all next time he ran into her. The guy inside, smashing her other eye to the point it was swelled shut as well.

Looking up into her eyes, Jack attempted to hand it back. But Billy just shook her head at him.

"You keep it, it's the least I can do after you saved my ass. Maybe it will bring you some luck." She smiled at him before turning and opening her apartment door making her exit.

"If you give me this, won't your luck be gone?" His words stopped her in her tracks. But all Jack could focus on was her soft laughter.

Without turning to face him, she pulled another card free from her pocket, twisting it expertly between two fingers so the face of it was in Jack's direction. An inverted match to the very card that he held in his hands. "There's always two jokers."

Just as quick as she pulled it free, Billy shoved it back into her pocket, "See you around." She chuckled before disappearing into her apartment. Leaving Jack alone in the stairwell, staring quizzically at the place the girl once was. His lip twitching up in amusement, before he shook his head clear of their encounter.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The joker cracked an eye open as he startled awake. It was a rare occurrence in recent years that his dreams would startle him out of sleep. That was only reserved for a specific time in his life, and that was not now anymore.

His half sleep blurred vision instantly focused on the ever growing water stain that was spreading across the ceiling tiles. It's dark brownish edges tainting the once white paint, giving the already run down room a greater sense of abandonment.

His hand stretched out wantingly, his long fingers gripping into the cool sheets of the spot next to him. The spot that had been vacant for many years now. An emptiness that slowly consumed him in absolute sorrow, and then engulfed him in a burning rage, no one could ever put out.

It was a pain that radiated through the Joker like a poison when his mind traveled to her. Pleading for him to remember, remember a time when things were pleasant. When she was by his side, and in his bed, places he could keep her safe.

But he couldn't, the day Gotham took her from him was the day its reckoning started. They would all pay, every last one of them.

#joker x ofc #joker #the joker #joker x reader #young joker #heath ledger #one shot #fanfiction #the dark knight #not good at this #wish me luuuuck #cards #card tricks

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padsnprongs · 4 years ago

Text

french sirius and welsh remus headcanons!!

(translations are at the end <3)

french sirius!!

sirius will sometimes speak in french to calm remus down after a nightmare because he finds it soothing

he will also talk in french just because remus has no idea what he’s saying and so he can get away with saying literally anything with no repercussions

‘Tes yeux sont beaux’

‘What does that mean?’

‘You’re hogging the blanket.’

sirius speaks in french to everyone just to mess with them

‘Ok, Sirius, do you know what you’re doing?’

‘Je ne sais même pas où nous sommes.’

‘...and that’s how I’m gonna impress Lily. What do you think?’

‘Tu sais qu’il y ont des modes plus faciles pour impressionner une fille, d’accord?’

whenever sirius gets confused, which, let's be honest, was quite frequently, he would furrow his brows and mutter to himself in french, which remus found positively adorable

welsh remus!!

sirius loves it when remus speaks in welsh, because he thinks it’s very sexy very soothing

‘Rydych chi mor anhygoel o dwp.’

‘Oh wow. Say something else.’

remus has a very strong welsh accent, which makes it quite hard to understand him most of the time.

sirius loves his welsh accent though. especially when he pronounces something differently and everyone else then has to try to figure out what he's saying

remus will sometimes digress into welsh when he’s angry. if one of the marauders has pissed him off, or he’s just gotten into an argument with someone, he’ll lapse into welsh without realising.

‘Are you kidding?! That served absolutely no purpose! Beth sy'n bod efo ti?'

the other person will obviously have no idea what’s going on, so they just stand there for a good five minutes until remus realises what happened.

sometimes remus will forget the english word for something, which everyone else turns into a competition to see who can figure out what he's trying to say first

it wasn't uncommon to see remus pointing frantically at a random object whilst the rest of the common room shouts over each other

when remus argues with sirius, they’ll both end up talking in welsh and french respectively. They’ll yell at each other for god knows how long, with no clue what the other is actually saying.

eventually, the argument will diverge into them just complimenting each other or something, but still in french and welsh. so whilst sirius thinks remus is still throwing insults at him, sirius is actually just saying really lovey-dovey stuff to him, and vice-versa, but they’re both still speaking really angrily.

‘Je pense que je t’aime!’

‘Dwi am fynd allan gyda chi!’

‘Je l’adore quand tu souris!’

‘Mae’ch gwallt yn edrych yn neis iawn!’

nicknames!! remus and sirius call each other really lovey-dovey names in their respective languages

for example, remus will call sirius 'fy nghariad', and sirius will call remus 'mon amour' (ty to cadiepughx on ig for this one lol)

because of this, Sirius has made it his goal to see how many random words he can call remus, that he will respond to, because as long as he says it lovingly, it sounds like a term of endearment

'hey, mon rideau'

remus: *looks up*

sirius and remus shared a bed since fifth year, so sirius got a front row seat to remus talking in his sleep, during which he would say the most random things.

for example, sirius once heard him mumble, 'dwi'n caru bara' (ty to remuslupinslefttit for this hc lmao)

when he asked remus what it meant in the morning, he couldn't stop himself from giggling whilst remus just stood there with a face as red as a tomato

'where does that even come from?!'

'yeah, alright, alright, laugh it up.'

they both picked up some of each other's languages over time, which made it a lot harder to talk shit about the other to their face

while remus was brought up bilingual, speaking both english and welsh at the same time, sirius was taught french from around the age of five onwards. so remus tends to lapse into welsh, but sirius doesn’t, because french is his second language.

when his parents started teaching sirius french, their method was to speak to him in only french until he picked it up, because he would learn more general phrases that way.

however, that also meant that one day sirius woke up and everyone was speaking a different language, so he had no idea what was happening

let’s just say walburga and orion weren’t the most patient teachers.

as a result, sirius tries to reject the remnants of french culture whenever he's at home

on the other hand, remus, who grew up in wales, loves welsh culture (?)

especially the food

he often tried to get the other three to try some, which they weren't big fans of

remus went to a muggle primary school where only english was spoken

when he was writing sentences out, he would always get confused between welsh and english, and end up mixing both into the same sentence, because he didn’t realise that not everyone spoke welsh.

this led to some very awkward parents’ evenings. the teacher had no clue that he was writing in welsh and suggested that he speak to a psychologist, as he appeared to be writing complete gibberish, and that was concerning, at his age level.

when sirius and remus left hogwarts, they moved into a flat together. they would, even then, speak in french and welsh respectively, just to mess with each other.

'hey sirius, can you pass me my siaced?'

sirius: *passes him a can of beans*

when sirius turned up on remus’ doorstep in 1994, the first thing he said, with a hopeful smile on his face, was, ‘je déteste tes tripes?’

remus merely grinned and said, ‘rydych chi’n twpsyn.’

translations:

tes yeux sont beaux = your eyes are beautiful

je ne sais même pas où nous sommes = i dont even know where we are

tu sais qu’il y ont des modes plus faciles pour impressionner une fille, d’accord? = you know that there are easier ways to impress a girl, right?

rydych chi mor anhygoel o dwp = you are so incredibly stupid

beth sy'n bod efo ti = what's wrong with you

je pense que je t’aime = i think I like you

dwi am fynd allan gyda chi = I want to go out with you

je l’adore quand tu souris = i love it when you smile

mae’ch gwallt yn edrych yn neis iawn = your hair looks really nice

fy nghariad/mon amour = my love

mon rideau = my curtain

dwi'n caru bara = I love bread

siaced = jacket

je déteste tes tripes = i hate your guts

rydych chi’n twpsyn = you're a dumbass (I think??)

bonus bc I was researching welsh idioms and I liked this one but couldn't figure out a way to include it lol (but it seems like something remus would say lol):

fel rhech mewn potel bop = like a fart in a pop bottle: an expression used to mean something insignificant/useless

i apologise if any of the welsh is wrong!! it's all google translated lol

p.s. ik some of these aren’t particularly believable lol it’s just for fun

#this is very wolfstar #but who's complaining really #is sirius turning up on remus' doorstep in 1994 canon??#am i projecting?#pfft of course not #the thing about remus getting mixed up in primary school?#that may or may not have happened to me #saying 'i take my jubblies to the beach' leads to some fun parents evenings #talking from experience #of course I meant to say 'chappala' which is punjabi for flip-flops #lets just say i was brought up speaking english from then on #sometime i forget the english words for things as well #which my friends love #anyways #harry potter #harry potter books #hp marauders #marauders textpost #marauders at hogwarts #marauders era #marauders #welsh remus #french sirius #bilingual #hp headcanon #marauders headcanon #remus lupin #sirius black #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #james & peter & remus & sirius

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awanderingdeal · 4 years ago

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Never too late - 8

An eternity later and it is here! Part 8 of 'Never too Late'. How much of this is me projecting? You'll never know.

CW: Food, alcohol, feelings of queer exclusion at prom, coming out, [very minor and it is shut down] compulsory sexuality.

Please message me if you feel I missed anything out.

Just a note, that due to the POV of this fic, there is a lot of linking between relationships and romance to prom. I just want to reiterate that prom absolutely does not have to be a romantic event if you do not want it to. The beef is more that queer kids do not always have the choice to go with their partners safely, and the stress of not knowing whether it would have been okay or not.

I hope that all of you that wanted to were able to have the prom you wanted and if you weren't able to, please know it is just ONE day. Throw your own if you want to. Don't if you don't want to. I know for myself, I have a lot of feelings about it, so please don't read this if it going to upset you.

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist.

All credit for Sweater Weather and these characters go to @lumosinlove

8. Go to a dance. Kiss your first love. Well, at least you think they are anyway. But remember kids, consent always.

Leo was excited, to say the least. Sprawled on his bed, laptop in front of him and his cell to the right, he knew it was getting late, but he wanted to research a little longer. He had a venue and a catering team locked down; the latter he had done reluctantly, after yet another person had told him that he absolutely could not cater the event himself.

His phone buzzed insistently, and Leo grunted. Why would anybody call when you could just text? He grunted again when he read the caller id.

Regulus. What a traitor.

“Hello?” Leo answered, rolling onto his back. He felt a tightness in his lumbar region, and made a mental note to mention it to Hestia in the morning if the sensation was still there when he woke up.

“Go to sleep.”

“ I will soon,” Leo hummed. “Did you look at my text?”

“Leo. It’s 2am.”

“Yes, I worked very hard to learn to tell the time, thank you.” In truth, the last time Leo remembered checking the time, it had still been the previous day. Logan had a popped his head around the door to tell Leo that he and Finn were going to crash in one of the other rooms, and that Leo should get some sleep soon. Leo had nodded and assured Logan he wouldn’t be too long.

Regulus’ sigh on the other end of the phone interrupted his memory.

“And you’re getting cranky,” Regulus said. Leo could imagine the smooth raised eyebrow that accompanied the words. “If I tell you which theme I like, will you go to sleep?”

Leo shifted, pushing himself up against the stack of pillows. He nodded eagerly, before remembering Regulus couldn’t see him. “Yes. I promise.”

“I like both -”

“That is not helpful!”

“Wait a second. Merde. You should combine them.”

“That’s,” Leo wrinkled his nose, contemplating the idea. “That’s actually kind of genius.”

“You can thank me later,” Regulus offered smugly. “After you’ve got some sleep.”

***

“So Reg, who’s the lucky person who gets to be your date to this thing?” Finn asked, plucking a brownie from the plate in the middle of the table, before settling into the seat opposite Leo.

“It’s not a thing!” Leo protested.

“Sorry, babe. This prom,” Finn grinned.

Regulus worried his lip between his teeth, looking first at Leo and then turning his gaze back to Finn. “Do I have to go with someone?”

“Yes,” Finn said resolutely, at the same time as Leo shook his head, giving the opposite answer.

“No,” Leo repeated, narrowing his eyes at Finn. “People go to prom with friends all the time.”

“Okay, yeah, fine. You don’t have to,” Finn agreed, giving a placating smile. Leo hated that it worked. If he were being honest, they should probably utilise the O’Hara smile in diplomatic relations. “But don’t you want to have the quintessential prom kiss?”

“Finn -”

“I was actually thinking I could borrow Leo,” Regulus rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Apparently Finn didn't catch it though. His face contorted into a thousand different expressions in the space of a second. Conflicted. Contemplative. Accepting. “Well...I guess I’d be okay with it, if Leo is, but Lo-”

“That was a joke, Finn,” Regulus laughed.

“Oh, right,” Finn laughed as well, the tips of his cheeks tinged pink. “Well. Yeah. Prom kisses are nice. I had sex for the first time on my prom. Although, she did cheat on my two months later, so maybe I’m not the best example to follow,” he rambled.

“That was a lot to learn about somebody in a very short amount of time," Regulus commented, clutching his mug between his hands.

Finn shrugged, leaning forward to grab another brownie, seemingly uncaring about the wealth of information he had just offered.

***

“Hey, Le?”

Leo looked up from his phone, finding Regulus hovering next to him, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He cocked his head slightly in question.

“Can we talk?”

Leo frowned, setting his phone down on the coffee table and patted the seat next to him on the sofa. “You don’t usually ask,” he smirked.

Regulus’ smile back seemed strained, but Leo didn’t comment on it. “Earlier,” Regulus started as he took a seat, playing with the tips of his fingers before he stopped abruptly, placing them in his lap. “In the kitchen? What Finn said?”

Leo sighed gently, “Ignore him. Finn’s mouth and his feet are well acquainted. You know Finn. He just doesn't always think before he speaks. I’m sorry if he upset you.”

“You shouldn’t apologise for your boyfriend. If I wanted an apology I would have gone to him.” ” Regulus chided. His expression softened, his next intake of breath larger than usual. “Can you just listen?”

“Sorry,” Leo turned to look at Regulus properly. “You were saying?”

Regulus gave a small nod. “I don’t think I want that.”

Leo opened his mouth to speak, remembered Regulus’ request and snapped it shut again.

“Not the kisses. Not the sex. None of it. I think I’m asexual” The words came out in a single, hurried burst, but Regulus seemed to stumble over the last one, as if it was unfamiliar to him, unpractised. Leo could picture his friend frantically asking google questions, refining each search as he learned new information. He’d been there himself once.

A silence hung in the air, the two of them staring at one another, with an intensity that was making Leo feel uncomfortable, but he didn't want to be the first to break eye contact.

“Désolé," Regulus blinked. "Say something. Please."

Leo shuffled forward, his arms outstretched. “I’m going to hug you now.” He waited a beat to allow Regulus to protest, before pulling him close. Regulus sat stiffly, taking a moment to relax into the embrace and when he did, Leo squeezed him a little tighter. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I knew you’d be okay with it,” Regulus grumbled. Leo was sure he heard a hint of relief despite the attempt to appear ambivalent. He let Regulus go, putting some space between them again, knowing his friend had more personal space boundaries than Leo was used to dealing with.

“It’s still scary. Even if you’re almost certain it’s going to be alright. And just in case you need to hear it, I love you, you’re valid and even if you decide that’s not the right label for you that’s okay too.”

“What are you? Like, gay Yoda?” Regulus gave a small laugh, but he sniffed wetly. “Thanks.”

“A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defence, never for attack,” Leo made a fist, wrapped his other hand over the top and bowed his head.

“Nerd.”

“Wait, can I ask you a question?” Regulus’ consenting nod was slow and tentative. “Does this mean you’d prefer if I stop sending you half naked photos every other day?” Leo let the corner of his mouth curl into a smirk.

Regulus barked a very uncharacteristic laugh, deep and loud. “While I can appreciate the aesthetic appeal of Chris Evans, yes, I’ve seen enough of that man to last me many lifetimes .” He punched Leo lightly in the knee. Leo raised an eyebrow at the very frat - boy inspired action, and Regulus made a face that suggested he wasn’t quite sure where it had come from either. “I’m sure company is not an issue for you in this household, but don’t worry I’ll still watch The Avengers with you.”

“A real hero,” Leo drawled. “Hey.” He met Regulus’ eyes, his tone taking on a more serious note again. “You know you can tell Finn. And Logan, right? If that’s what you want. Whenever you’re ready. They’ll be cool.”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed. “I don’t doubt it.”

“And if they’re not. I’ll personally kick them in the balls for you.”

***

Leo fussed with his bowtie in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that, trying to decide if it was straight.

“Stop. You look great. They’re going to die,” Regulus declared, making Leo jump slightly. He’d known the man was in the room, but his best friend had a habit of just appearing beside him unannounced.

Leo took another look in the mirror, running his fingers over the slightly raised texture of his initials monogrammed into the teal suspenders. “Yeah, I guess I’ll do,” he hummed, turning to face Regulus, scanning his eyes over him. Even Leo had been surprised by Regulus’ choice of attire, knowing now why he had kept the outfit such a secret. “Bold choice,” he remarked.

“Too much?”

“No,” Leo shook his head. Maybe it would have been on somebody else, but Regulus wore the mustard yellow three - piece effortlessly. He reached out to touch the blue sapphire that embellished the lapel, a gold chain linking it to the breast pocket. “Not at all. I’m just jealous.”

“Alright boys, are we ready?” Alex asked, clapping his hands together.

“Yeah.”

“As we’ll ever be.”

“Ready!” Kuny boomed, making a show of checking his pocket watch, the gold chain attaching it to his vest was somehow, even more ornate than Regulus’.

The four of them turned to glance at Remus, the only one in the room left to reply. Shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, Remus smiled. “I guess I can’t play with this tie any longer.”

“Alright then. I don’t know a lot about you guys, but I want to see my boyfriend,” Alex rocked on his feet, Leo chuckled, the man pretended he was so much more chill than his younger brother, but excitement seemed to bubble under his skin all the same. Leo didn’t blame Alex though, separating the partners into different rooms had seemed like a good idea earlier in the evening, but now he just wanted to see Finn and Logan, ideally before he exploded with anticipation. He couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for those of them that had to wait for their partners to arrive from the Potter’s house, where the ladies had opted to get ready.

“Yes. I want see Jackson,” Kuny nodded resolutely.

“Lord, help me,” Regulus whined. Leo just laughed, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

***

“Cap! Stop undressing Loops with your eyes, he put a lot of effort into finding that suit.”

“Kuny. Put Nado down. There are people here.”

“Harzy. Are you crying?”

“You can close your mouth now, Leo.” Regulus tapped a finger lightly against Leo’s jaw. He would have tried to defend himself from the accusation, but he couldn’t deny the quiet clink of his teeth snapping back together.

“I’m just going to need a minute,” Leo mumbled, dragging his eyes over Finn and Logan’s bodies.

“Take your time,” Regulus chuckled. “Is-” Regulus leaned forward, squinting slightly. “Does Finn’s jacket match the invites.”

“I think they’re flowers.” Although, from afar, the swirls of blue and silver painted over the jacket did resemble the night sky artwork the two of them had settled on for the invites. Leo had insisted they needed them despite Regulus’ very valid point that saw all of the attendees at least once a week. “I’m going to go and check,” Leo waved a hand towards his boyfriends. He could see Logan’s lips moving, Finn’s grin widening with each word and Leo wanted in on that conversation.

“Sure,” Regulus hummed. “You go and do that.”

Leo stole a glance behind him as he crossed the short distance of their lounge, feeling a pang of guilt about leaving Regulus so easily on what was supposed to be his night. He needn't have worried though, he had barely taken a few paces before Regulus was swarmed by Thomas and James. Leo huffed a laugh at Regulus' disgruntled expression as they fawned at his suit.

***

“Leo. Regulus. Welcome! These must be your guests.” Estella, the only one of fifteen event planners that he and Regulus could agree on, smiled wide. “Is everybody here? I can always have somebody come and meet any stragglers?”

“No, this is all of us,” Leo confirmed. Corralling everybody into the two limos had been a task, but somehow they had all managed to make it to the museum without anybody being left behind.

“Alright then. Follow me. I think you’re going to love what we’ve settled on.” Estella turned on her heel, tight curls bouncing behind her as she led them up the grand staircase. Leo had been to The Natural History museum many times during the day, but the place had a strange sense of awe without the usual bustle of visitors, and he couldn’t wait to see what the events hall had been transformed into.

Estella pushed the ornate double doors open, blocking the entrance with her body. She must have noticed how Leo’s feet itched with anticipation because she gave a small smirk as she stepped aside. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen. I’ll be around should you need anything."

Leo looked back at the group behind him; his team, his friends, his family, and felt the pool of anxiety that had been bubbling in his stomach all day, churn again. This evening had started off as being for Regulus, but it had quickly grown beyond that. While prom wasn’t inherently romantic, the traditions that came alongside it were embroiled with ideas that had marginalised so many of them, even if they hadn’t realised it at the time. A part of him hated that a high school event that was truly insignificant in the grand scheme of things could hold so much weight. He wanted to rebel, to not let it be important at all. Another just wanted to be able to give them all the night they had wished for back then.

“What’s the delay?” Natalie’s voice shook Leo from his head, and he glanced to his left at Regulus before moving into the room.

Estella and her team had really come through. They had weaved Leo and Regulus’ ideas on decoration into something spectacular. He had to force himself not to pause again, waiting until he was less of an obstruction to the rest of them, to stop and look up at the ceiling. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny lights strung to look exactly like the night sky. Right in the centre, Leo recognised the pattern to be that of his namesake, one light slightly brighter than all the rest.

“Hey,” Sirius clapped a hand on Regulus’s shoulder. “How come you get to be up there and I don’t.”

“Can’t stand not to be the centre of attention can you, big brother?” Regulus shot back and Sirius just shook his head with a laugh, hurrying after Remus.

***

“This one is for all you loved up folk out there,” the DJ’s voice rang through the room, the music slowly fading from a thuddy beat into the tender piano notes of the next song.

Leo winced as Marlene squealed, tugging Dorcas from her chair, the latter almost tripping over her train in the rush, although she regained her composure quickly. She moved just as swiftly in her heels as Marlene did in her black and white oxfords. He watched the two of them leave, Dorcas’ emerald green dress almost sparkling as it caught the light.

“Go on,” Regulus nudged Leo, tilting his head in the direction of where Finn and Logan had already procured a spot on the dance floor. “Go dance with your boys.”

Leo glanced at Regulus, before turning his gaze to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. He contorted his features into a series of faces that to anybody else probably seemed nonsensical, but they caught on perfectly, answering his silent question with simultaneous nods of their heads.

“Or,” Leo placed his hand, palm upright, on the table. “You could do me the honour?”

“I’m not,” Regulus wrinkled his nose. “You don’t need to -”

“Indulge me, Reggie.”

“Only if you stop calling me that,” Regulus sighed, grasping Leo’s hand. “I’m leading.”

Regulus, it turned out, could dance. Leo was passable. He let himself be led around the floor, laughing with his friend at all the couples that weren’t quite as accomplished, his boyfriend’s included.

The music flowed seamlessly from the deep tones of John Legend into the lighter ones of Taylor Swift.

“Yes! My girl, Tay Tay. Now we’re talking.”

Regulus rolled his eyes playfully, “Calm down, Le. I think your gay is showing.”

“Okay, Karen.”

“I am wounded,” Regulus clutched his hand to chest, placing it back on Leo’s hip without missing a beat. He looked up, smiling at Leo softly. “You should go and dance with them now. I think they could do with your help.”

“Non!” Logan argued, stumbling over Finn’s feet once again. “I know how to dance. It is Finn who is a liability,” he added, as they came to a halt beside Leo and Regulus.

***

Reg! Did you see Kam sent the link for the photos?

I did. You want to look at them together, non?

Oui, Oui! Come over now?

Leo waited to receive the confirmation text, before he hurried into the kitchen to compile a selection of snacks, as well as a jug of lemon water for Finn. On his final trip, he added the ever-present jug of sweet tea from the fridge to the tray, setting it all up on the table in front of the TV in the lounge.

“Baby Black is coming over then?” Logan teased, sprawling onto the sofa next to Leo.

“Sssh,” Leo whined, pressing a finger to Logan’s lips. “Otherwise no doughnuts for you.”

Logan gasped, launching himself at Leo, his hands finding the spot below Leo’s ribs where he was most ticklish. “How dare you threaten me with such things?”

“Stop it,” Leo spluttered between laughs, squirming away from the assault. Thankfully the doorbell rang just as Leo thought he was going to have to tap out, Logan letting him up to go and answer it.

It took a few minutes to get all four of them settled on the couch and the photos casting from his cell to the TV, but eventually they managed it.

Kam, and their assistant, had done a great job of capturing the entire night, from everybody getting ready to a very drunk James and Evgeni snoring softly against the giant moon structure. James was swamped by Evgeni’s checked suit jacket and James’ pinstripe one hung from Evgeni’s arm.

“Did you three plan this?” Regulus laughed as a photo of Sirius, Logan and Pascal appeared on the screen. The three of them had chosen to go with a classic tuxedo, albeit with slight variations.

“We did not. We just all have impeccable taste,” Logan retorted.

“Oh my God!” Finn sat forward, squinting at the screen. “They definitely planned that though.” He waved at the image of Alex and Kasey, their suits the same but in reverse; Alex’s jacket a navy blue with a checked grey vest and Kasey the opposite.

“Finn babe,” Leo frowned, sliding Finn’s glasses onto his face. “How did you go the entire night without noticing that. Aren’t you supposed to be the fashion connoisseur, here?”

“I was distracted!” Finn protested. “By…” he beamed as a photo of him, Leo and Logan replaced the previous image. “That.”

Regulus faked a gag, swiping at the phone to get a new photo. Any argument that was about to ensue was abruptly ended as they all burst into laughter. On the screen, a sheepish looking Pascal was being berated by Estella, her finger pointing to the sign to the left of the vine covered swing that Pascal was sitting on that read, ‘For decorative purposes only’.

They went through hundreds of photos. Some of them were sweet; Natalie with her arms wrapped around Regulus’s waist pressing a kiss to his cheek. Some of them were silly; everybody sat in rows on the dancefloor, their arms out to side. Some of them staged; Regulus and Leo sat on the big arm chairs beneath the origami stars. All of them captured tiny moments that none of them wanted to forget.

Leo tucked his head against Regulus' shoulder, trying to stifle his tears. He wasn't upset, not at all. It was just a lot. Seeing it all again. And then he remembered that all the decorations had been donated. Most of the woodland pieces, including the huge faux tree that had stood in the middle of one of the tables had gone to a local young theatre troupe that were struggling to finance their show, and the starry night pieces had gone to a group that were organising a Queer prom for the region's high schoolers that maybe didn't feel accepted at their own. For Leo, knowing that young kids like himself could take their prom photos with whomever they wanted, could truly decide whether they wanted to go with friends or their partners without fear, was the best part of all. Regulus wrapped his arm around Leo, pulling him closer.

"Thank you, I had the best prom ever."

#regulus black #leo knut #sweater weather #lumosinlove #rating: t #food #alcohol #compulsory sexuality #prom #coming out

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moon-lixie · 4 years ago

Text

Change or stay the same - Han Jisung

word count: 4.791k

song: Punching Bag -Wallice

warnings: none, even though there's a bit of angst if you squint your eyes.

Yellow washed over the white walls of the room, soon enough soaking the bed sheets that draped over his body. The morning was eager to greet him, light poking at his eyelids to speed up the process of waking him.

A groan slipped his rosy lips before he moved to nuzzle his face on the fluffy material of the sky colored pillow. He dreaded mornings the most; one of the hardest tasks of the day was trying to rip himself away from his sheets.

His lids grew heavy after a couple minutes, sleep tugging on his arms begging him to drift away and into oblivion. Humming in satisfaction his mind was about to shut down when a loud ringing noise filled the room, it was Changbin’s special ringtone.

“Shit,” he murmured groggily before stretching his arm enough to reach the nightstand without having to move away from his pillow.

Putting the phone right beside his ear the first thing he heard was an oh so sweet Where the fuck are you, Jisung? It’s eight already. Which was soon followed by a string of profanities leaving his own lips, almost seemingly pushing him to move frantically across his room.

“I’ll be there in ten.” Was the last and first thing he said to his friend before hanging up and throwing his phone to his bed.

There was no time for him to take a shower; it’s not like he was planning to take one but he sometimes liked to pretend that he would. He barely brushed his teeth, changed into the first things that popped out of his closet and groaned at his empty refrigerator before finding himself running through the crowded streets.

He wasn’t particularly stressed despite his palms growing clammy at the idea of having to come up with a good excuse for his tardiness; to a certain degree he loved running like a maniac in that big city that seemed to have too many places for him to discover despite having been living there for years now.

A light giggle escaped his lips as he turned around a corner, now meters away from arriving at his destination. Despite his empty stomach and lack of morning coffee, he seemed to have too much energy to spare.

It felt like nothing could stop him until he couldn’t move his feet anymore, the world stopped before his eyes and breath left his lungs. He swore he had seen a familiar face but it had soon disappeared between the crowd; still, just one glimpse of said person had his heart coming to a stop.

“What are you doing?” Filled Jisung’s ears before he blinked back to reality; it was his friend of similar height, head popping out of the entrance door he should’ve crossed earlier.

Quickly shaking his head as he dismissed the question thrown at him, he entered the building and apologized to the older man throwing a curious glance at him.

The ride on the elevator was filled with silence, allowing his head to be filled with questions and worries that now had nothing to do with the task at hand but rather the person he believed to have seen.

Silence finally dissipated when he entered the studio to face a more or less exasperated Chan, he was sometimes too serious when it came to work but Jisung totally understood, one of them had to have the tiniest bit of seriousness or it could turn to chaos.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

“You overslept, we know. Let’s just get to work.” Changbin interrupted before patting his shoulder reassuringly.

A sheepish smile covered his lips before his fingers reached towards the bag that he was supposed to be wearing, the one that had his laptop in it. There went another fuck because he knew he was forgetting something as he left his apartment but was quick to shrug off the thought.

“It’s okay, you can just log in here.” Chan was quick to say without even having to spare him a glance to know what was the problem. He was grateful to have friends who seemed to balance out his clumsiness perfectly fine.

Taking a chair and moving closer to the desk he grabbed the mouse and started clicking away. Second later the monitor eagerly asked him for the password of his email where he happened to have his lyrics noted down. Yes, he used google docs, so what?

He gulped down at the thought of what he was about to type; his password never seemed to represent a problem until today. It was the name of someone he had last seen years ago, five to be exact. He just never saw the need to change it, not when he could type it with his eyes closed or in his sleep; it had been the same since he was in high school and until today he hadn’t minded that it stayed like that.

“Dude, we need to work so hurry up.” That’s right, he needed to hurry and snap out of it. it wasn’t such a big deal, he just needed to type every letter of your name in the specific order he knew by heart and pretend that it hadn't been you on the street just now.

And so he did, typing it as quickly as any other day, pressing enter and getting access to everything he needed along with a million memories stored as videos and pictures.

He cleared his throat before getting to work, he didn’t have the guts to revive his high school days in front of his friends; perhaps not brave enough to revive them at all despite the place or people around him.

Once the three of them were certain that the sun outside was slowly flooding the city with small orange and pink tinges, they exited the building that guarded their creative mess. Each walking their own way, not before throwing one last threat at the youngest in hopes that tomorrow he’d open his eyes at the right hour. Laughing lightly Jisung nodded and walked away, eager to return home.

His landlord had a white cat with some brown spots that somehow added to its cuteness; just like any other day he pet it before quickly scurrying to the elevator and finally walking past three doors before finding himself in front of his apartment door.

When he found himself inside, the first thing he did was take a shower, one that this time he had actually been intending to take. Later sitting on his bed, towel still tousling his hair in attempts to dry it, his laptop found its way to his lap.

His fingers didn’t hesitate much before clicking on the right places that took him to those videos and pictures that brought him joy every single time. Biting on his bottom lip he finally allowed the towel to rest on his shoulder and pressed play.

The video revealed his freckled friend whose laugh could light up the whole world, he did something silly as usual before Seungmin popped up a little far away. In the middle of a park, they found themselves atop lush grass that welcomed their feet happily as they fooled around.

After some time filming the two boys the camera moved towards some swings where you sat, expression all too dull for the situation that you were in. That was it, the video cut there and the memories would finish at that moment if he didn’t clearly remember what happened next.

He had stopped recording, closing the small screen of the video camera before walking towards you, a worried expression taking hold of his features. Once close enough he sat on the swing next to yours, feet kicking the soil softly.

“I don’t want to leave this place,” you had mumbled by his side, catching him off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you thought about what will happen to us when we go to college. It’s months away and I’m terrified of leaving.” A heavy sigh escaped your lips, pupils moving to catch his gaze.

Next time you opened your mouth, the tone with which you spoke was way quieter as if you were scared of saying such things. “I wish I could stay here forever, with you guys, just being silly and worrying about nothing.”

Reaching his hand to grab yours he ended up intertwining his fingers with yours before sighing and smiling sweetly. “Nothing is going to change, we’ll keep being together. Trust in me, we’ll make it through.”

You had smiled brightly after he spoke, blindly believing in his words that ended up not becoming true. Soon after everyone parted away to college the distance had done its job at making communication difficult, a text a day turned into one every week, quickly it had been one a month and then nothing but each other’s contacts saved on your phones.

Living kilometers away everyone kept moving on with their lives not really knowing much about each other. The only thing that he now was aware of was about his own story, how he had met Chan and Changbin in college and their common interest and ambition had brought them to work together in what they loved.

Quickly closing his laptop and leaving it on his night stand he plopped himself down on his face. Seconds after reaching for his phone and looking for your contact.

His breath hitched once it appeared on his screen, all too familiar but quite foreign by now. He had stopped himself from calling you many times; when he was sober he convinced himself that you wouldn’t want to talk to him after he lied to you that one evening, when drunk he decided that you deserved better than a Jisung that made no sense and slurred all his words.

Nevertheless, he always thought of you like how one thinks about their first love that never happened, because that was the case. Your reckless mixed with your amazing sense of responsibility —that he had always admired— still haunted him at night along with your melodious laugh.

Finally deciding that it was now or never he pressed on your contact and pressed his phone to his ear, dying slowly at every loud beep that separated him from your voice. Without notice the line went silent for a moment before a strange voice spoke a soft hello?, it wasn’t you.

“Is y/n there?”

“No, I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong number.”

He thanked the stranger, trying not to sound utterly disappointed before hanging up and throwing his phone towards his pillow and sighing in defeat. It had never occurred to him that you could’ve changed your number in the past five years but it made sense.

It wasn’t the end of the world, he could later call Felix and ask him for your number —because Jisung was certain he would have it— but that could be left for when he ate something and felt less nervous.

Walking to his kitchen it suddenly popped in his mind, his refrigerator was empty and that meant no food he could simply stuff in his mouth. He cursed for the nth time that day.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go buy something to eat and then get some groceries on the weekend,” he said to no one in particular before getting dressed again and going out to wander around the city until he found a place that sold something edible, that would suffice.

On one particular street where he had to wait for the traffic light to change his heart came to a stop because this time he didn't see you but rather heard your voice calling his name, and upon turning around there you were, just like he remembered.

A hello meant to escape his lips but it got stuck on his throat when you smiled at him warmly; he loved you as much as that eighteen year old him that would do anything for you.

Without thinking much he hugged you tightly; you were quick to return his hug, convincing him that it would be the biggest mistake in the world to pull away soon. People walked past the both of you, some huffing in annoyance as you were in fact obstructing the street but for all that he cared everyone could go and fuck themselves.

When he finally broke away the hug some words came tumbling down of his mouth before he got the chance to think about them, “I was going to grab something to eat, want to come with me?”

The words surely took you by surprise as confusion plastered in your face for a second, but you nevertheless accepted his offer.

“So...what are you doing here?” he asked as both crossed the street, Jisung no longer wandering without a destination.

“I live here.” He threw you a confused look that couldn’t mean anything more than a since when? that seemed to amuse you greatly as you laughed for a second before answering. “I moved not far from here three months ago, for work.”

Nodding lightly he kept walking, silence moving at a fast pace to catch up with your moving figures on the street, but it was futile as you spoke up once again.

“It’s silly but— ”

“It’s not,” he retorted before an unknown force tugged at the corners of his lips with force, refusing to let his smile falter.

“—I had been wondering when we would end up stumbling with each other.”

Those simple words made his heart beat at a faster pace, aggressively thumping against his chest. After all this time you still had his existence present in your mind, not seeming to forget how he always talked about moving here once he was old enough when he was just a child.

��Well, I’m glad that we finally did.” A coward, that’s how he should call himself from now on as the words refused to slip past his lips. He should tell you that he had tried to call you, that he had also been wanting to see you, but he couldn’t.

Jisung had decided to bring you to a small dinner that was not only cheap but delicious; he smiled way too widely once you asked for the same you used to have and you questioned him with your eyes when he asked for coffee, he used to not be able to stand the bitter taste.

Hours passed as you both caught up with each other, apparently you still spoke often with Felix —which he already suspected all along— and had only recently decided to move out from the apartment you still shared with your college roommates, ending up in that lovely city by chance.

His eyes scanned every single centimetre of yours, the small dimple that formed on your right cheek everytime you chewed, the way your faint and discreet lip gloss had turned into a more lively lip tint, the ever so faint eye bags under your eyes that seemed to distinguish people your age.

“God, then Felix fell to that fountain, right?”

He snickered loudly before nodding in affirmation. “He had to walk all the way home completely soaked. He wouldn't stop complaining.”

The laugh that escaped your throat seemed almost nostalgic; it had been quite a while.

When you both crossed the door on your way out the only light covering the streets were those of the streetlights and some cars stuck in traffic. He offered to walk you back home and you immediately nodded in approval of his proposition.

In the blink of an eye he had turned to the high school Jisung that would walk slightly behind you, secretly wanting to reach out for your hand and intertwined his fingers without you, but not even now did he have the courage.

The walk seemed to be awfully short, perhaps because he didn’t want to leave you yet. You got your keys out and stood in front of your door but still facing him as if waiting for something.

“You changed your number.” Was the first thing he could think of saying to what you sighed awkwardly and answered him a quick I did.

“I would love to get something to eat with you again or just talk for a while. So I was wondering if I could have your number.” His eyes closed mid sentence, feeling embarrassed about his sound lack of ability to say something that wasn’t awkward.

Thankfully you seemed to want to spare him some suffering, quickly asking for his phone so you could add your contact, sneakingly adding a cheesy heart after your name. And when you were about to close the door you turned around and asked one last thing, “How did you know? You know, that I changed my number.”

He didn’t like the implications of that question, almost as if you were implying that it would be impossible to know if he hadn't tried to contact you, which you seemed to believe he hadn’t tried to do so all this time.

“I called you and someone else answered.” You nodded softly at his words, a feeling that he couldn’t quite comprehend pooling in your eyes before closing the door.

Yes, he should’ve called you sooner, should have texted Felix asking for your new number a million years before but he never thought of it despite always thinking of you. He had gotten so caught up with every present day that he had forgotten what he was leaving behind; but now you were part of his present and he was determined to keep you there.

It didn’t feel like he was on a cloud as he made his way back home, it rather felt somewhat heavy as he thought back on the last look in your eyes. If he could then he would run back to your door and wouldn’t leave until a smile hung on your lips, but he was scared of overstepping his boundaries.

His bed felt less comfortable than usual but that was usual on the navy nights that lyrics haunted his mind. And so he found himself on his usual spot on the floor of his room, guitar lazily placed on his lap, laptop sitting on the floor making him have to slouch himself to properly type down what he wanted.

At one point he fell asleep, not caring about the hard wooden floor under his back or the cold air nipping at his skin. Until he moved, guitar complaining about the position it had been placed at. His eyes snapped open and he quickly reached his hands around the floor until they found his phone.

One long yawn and then his eyes were being met with an almost perfect 05:59 that quickly turned to 06:00. He still had a solid hour and a half of sleep but he still found his feet colliding with the pavement of the street, later reaching a coffee shop near the studio.

He exited the place with the ring of a bell and an iced americano seeping cold into the warm skin of his hand. A pleased smile grazed his lips upon the first sip, he was now more ready than ever to start his day.

Not long after his friends were exaggeratedly gasping in surprise behind his back upon reaching the studio and finding the younger there. He clicked away shamelessly, never daring to feel embarrassed in front of them, not when it came to music and his sometimes peculiar lyrics.

“A love song?” Chan snorted while peeking over his shoulder, only causing a light blush to spread across his cheeks. He only shrugged it off before continuing his work.

Hours passed and as the sun reached its peak his fingers found their way to his phone screen, clicking on your contact and quickly typing a short message before he started overthinking his way to never speaking to you again. Only then noticing the heart that you had placed beside your name; it made his heart do a flip

He typed a quick and simple question, asking if you were free at seven; soon after you replied with a lovely yes that made him giddy. His expression must have radically changed because Changbin felt free to question him and try to take a peek of his screen.

“Hyung!” Jisung said annoyed while scooting away a couple of centimetres, his friend just giggled in content and left him alone.

Taking into account that his apartment was a mess he quickly convinced you to hang out at yours to what you even ended up offering to make dinner for both of you with a sweet If you get the ingredients then I’ll be happy to cook.

So as soon as he had the chance he shouted farewell to his friends as he hurried to his apartment to get ready and buy the things you had asked him too, feeling all too happy and young. It’s not like he was old but everytime he thought about you now he felt like a child, back at 15 or even worse, younger, not knowing what to do except stare at your messages with complete infatuation.

His knuckles hesitated before colliding with your beige door twice, quickly and with enough force to make his presence known to you who opened with a tender smile barely reaching your eyes.

When he entered he couldn’t help but allow his eyes to linger around every small detail that the place held. The grey cushion went delightfully well with the subtle tones of yellow and cerulean, those matching with some accents you had added on the walls.

Only then he noticed that just as your number changed you could’ve too, he knew all about the you who had survived school by his side but almost nothing about the person who lived on that tidy apartment that smelt faintly of vanilla.

He turned around to find the image of you moving freely in the kitchen way too endearing to look away. Your hands got everything he had brought out of the bag and your back greeted him with a sense of familiarity he could get used to.

A second later you turned around, a playful smile crinkling the corners of your eyes. “Are you going to help me or are you just going to stand there?”

Jisung chuckled before throwing a small apology to the air, walking to your side and not forgetting to push his hips to meet yours. Grabbing some vegetables he moved to the sink to wash them, that was one of his specialties in the kitchen.

You hummed along at a non existent song while he dried his hand on the kitchen towel, watching you cook without major effort. Out of nowhere your eyes travelled to his, making him freeze on his spot for a second.

“I missed you,” you said with ease, showing him that those words weren’t as hard to pronounce as he had been thinking since he hugged you on the street.

He was about to answer, finally allowing himself to take the proper time to express how happy he felt about your presence when you turned around and walked a couple steps towards him, gaze saddening ever so slightly. “Why didn’t you call me in all this time?”

“Well...” He sighed loudly, contemplating the option with which he could respond. I was scared? Well sure, he was but that wasn’t really the reason. I forgot? More like it but it definitely sounded rude enough to gain the wrong reaction from you. I love you? No, that wasn’t the answer to this question in particular, but it sure was an answer he would have to say at one point.

At the silence that installed in the kitchen you sighed before speaking. “When we first started getting distanced I was really discouraged, but every single time I feared we wouldn’t talk again I remembered something you told me once. God, maybe you don’t even remember.” Jisung’s gaze softened once again, of course he knew, how could he forget how he lied to you. “You said ‘Trust in me, we’ll make it through’, even now it brings me such peace to think back at the certainty with which you said that.”

You walked towards the couch, sitting and patting the cushion beside yours to urge him to do the same.

“Those words healed me during the hardships that I went through, they gave me hope that no matter how much time passed we still remained the same, all of us.” You sighed loudly and looked at the floor. “But still, I couldn’t help wondering why? Were you too busy? Not interested enough? Had you forgotten about me? And at some point I blamed you until I realized that I could’ve texted you too, or perhaps called you. But I was so caught up in being scared that I never made a move, and without realizing the years had passed by.”

After a short pause you moved your eyes to meet his again, filled with melancholy. “So, I didn't call you because I was too much of a coward and I accept it.” Jisung chuckled lightly, earning a small laugh from you as well. “So why didn’t you?”

He sighed once again before leaning back on the couch, to which you followed seconds later, resting your head on the back of the couch while looking at him with an intense gaze.

“Did you know that your name was my email password when we were in high school?” he began; you immediately shook your head to deny knowing. “It still is. I hadn’t seen you in five years and still your name keeps being my password. I typed it every time I got a new phone, when I forgot my laptop and had to log in elsewhere, all the time, your name.”

He stole a glance at your face and smiled widely before looking at the ceiling, white and with the smallest crack on one corner of the room. “There wasn’t a second that I didn’t think of you and not a moment in which I didn’t have the intention of calling you.

There were times in which I was way too caught up in my life and what I had in front of my eyes but that wasn’t enough excuse. Just like you said, one day I realized that it had been too long and I felt too guilty to do it. I had promised you we wouldn’t drift away and then there I was, months of not exchanging a single word with you and an incredible amount of guilt tying my hands to my back.”

“I lied to you and then convinced myself that I had no right to face you after,” Jisung finally said, embarrassment creeping up to his cheeks at how his statement sounded out loud.

“But you didn’t lie to me, at least not entirely,” you quickly retorted, earning a quick snort from him.

“Well damn, thank you so much. Now I feel way better.”

Rolling your eyes and hitting his arm lightly, you continued, “You said we would make it through and here we are; being away from each other wasn’t the end of the world. We, well, I was too childish back then to think that our relationship changing a little would be the end of the world.

We were kilometres apart, of course our relationships would change but in the end it didn’t change that much. I mean, look at us. You just revealed an embarrassing secret that will cost you your email.”

He threw you a warning look before you giggled. “After all this time we can still talk freely, it’s just a matter of catching up where we left off and going back to our old rhythm.”

A matter of catching up and going back to our old rhythm. The first part had put his calm at ease, the second one not so much. He didn’t want to go back exactly to what you had; you had just said it yourself relationships change and he wanted this one to do so as well.

He reached his hand to grab yours, finally intertwining his fingers freely with yours after years of hesitation. Throwing you one last look he just muttered, “Or change.”

“Or change...” you repeated after him, adding with mischief something else, “like your password should if you don’t want me lurking around your email.”

“God, you have such a way of ruining things" You snorted and he sighed in defeat. You were still a dork and that would never change, like his password; remaining the same that he loved.

#I've been writing longer things lately #Can I call this the tumblr effect?#kpop #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #skz jisung #skz han #stray kids han #stray kids jisung

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link4eva · 4 years ago

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Kiro’s Culinary Date Translation [CN] (Season 2)

Hi, everyone! Just a couple of notes before you begin reading. I don’t actually know Chinese so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with help from @keliosyfan. Thank you! 💛

This translation contains spoilers for a date that has not yet been released in the ENG server. This date is set is Season 2 but doesn’t contain any major plot details. If you wish to not be spoiled, please don’t read beyond the cut.

Hope you enjoy!~

*Spoilers below for future content!*

[First Part]

“Ding Dong!--”

I stood in front of a villa full of sunflowers in the yard and rang the doorbell.

Recently, in order to create a gimmick for the new show, the company intends to let Kiro participate in an observation variety show.

The stars in the show will experience different professions. The profession of this episode is to run a restaurant. To create more entertainment, a culinary competition is also set up.

Whoever makes the food that receives the most praise will win the final prize.

But I wasn’t so sure about Kiro’s cooking skills….

??: I’m coming!

The familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

Accompanied by a rush of hurried footsteps, the door was swung open and golden hair instantly came into view.

Kiro: Good afternoon, boss!

Kiro: I just saw your text message, why did you come to me so suddenly?

Kiro put one hand behind himself, his always-smiling face now even more enthusiastic.

A strange smell hit the tip of my nose. I seemed to distinguish something but kept it calm on the surface.

MC: I heard Savin say that you rarely go out recently and don’t answer the phone very often. So I just came to see what the situation was.

Kiro: So that’s what it was. That’s because….

Kiro moved his eyes towards me and smiled.

Kiro: I recently became obsessed with a new video game series so I couldn’t check my phone as often.

I nodded and accepted the explanation.

MC: There’s another thing; you’re going to be on a new variety show.

Kiro’s expression suddenly became very serious. I couldn’t help but want to tease him, pretending to be serious.

MC: You should have known already about your appearance on the show and how you need to show your cooking skills in front of the camera.

MC: But I don’t think this should be a problem for Kiro, right?

Kiro looked shocked. But not long after, he smiled confidently.

Kiro: Of course.

Kiro: I’m actually very good at cooking.

MC: So confident--

Kiro: What’s up?

Seeing Kiro’s confused eyes still showing a hint of a guilty conscience, I couldn’t help but finally express my doubts.

MC: Kiro, were you really playing video games?

Kiro: Yes, I was….

MC: But why do I smell something weird?

Kiro: ….

Kiro: ….So you knew already!

After a while, he sighed slightly, and put down his hands behind his back like he had accepted his fate. He was holding a bear apron in his hands.

Kiro: Miss Chips, do you want to come and take a look at my kitchen?

[Second Part]

Although I was mentally prepared when I walked into Kiro’s kitchen, I couldn’t help but look on in shock.

The kitchen utensils are stacked in a mess, there are many broken eggshells on the ground, and the dishes were piled high in the sink. With that, there were also some “unidentifiable objects”...

Everything in front of me seems to show what kind of “messy” experience this was.

Kiro also looked a little embarrassed.

Kiro: Ahem, it went well at first, but I don’t know which step went wrong.

Kiro: The taste and appearance are a little bit different from what you may expect….

Suddenly, he turned his eyes to look at me.

Kiro: In order to find out which step went wrong, I plan to do it again!

Kiro: However, it’s best to have personal supervision next to you….

MC: I can help you. Also, I can show you some new things. *changed some wording*

As if he had obtained the answer he wanted, Kiro’s brows and eyes were curved slightly, and a smile appeared on his face.

Kiro: Great, then let’s get to work!

Seeing a glimmer of success in his eyes, I suddenly realized that I was fooled!

He had planned to bring me to the kitchen all along!

Twenty minutes later, with my help, the cooking was finally completed decently.

Seeing the steaming food on the table, Kiro couldn’t wait to pick up the spoon and took a bite.

MC: How is it?

Kiro: Hmm….

He blinked and then gave me a thumbs up.

Kiro: Super delicious! Miss Chips should really consider opening up a restaurant!

Although I knew his evaluation was exaggerated, I still breathed a sigh of relief.

MC: That’s good.

Kiro: However, I’m afraid there’s no way I can make such delicious food for the time being….

He lowered his eyes and his long eyelashes cast a small shadow in his eyes.

Knowing that Kiro has always been a perfectionist, I thought about it and spoke slowly.

MC: Actually, to make delicious food in addition to certain cooking skills, you also need a special recipe.

Kiro: Huh? What is it?

I stretched out my hand, poked Kiro’s face lightly with my finger, and made a smile on his face.

MC: The chef’s mentality is also very important.

MC: If you put yourself in a happy mood, you will definitely feel it. And….

I also smiled at him.

MC: Enthusiastically greet every challenge, isn’t this what Kiro is best at?

Kiro was taken aback for a moment, a strange emotion flashed in his eyes. After a while, he smiled and took my hand.

Kiro: Well, MC is right.

Kiro: By the day of the show recording, my performance won’t disappoint anyone’s expectations.

Kiro: However, I still want you to promise me one thing.

MC: What?

He leaned closer, his warm breath fell on my cheek.

Kiro: Can you come to the set on the filming day?

Kiro: If you do, I think the food will be better than perfect.

[Third Part]

The sun was shining brightly on the filming day, and the temperature was several degrees higher than usual.

I arrived at the shooting location as agreed with Kiro. Seeing that it was still early, I walked towards the lounge.

(Cut to lounge)

As soon as the door was opened, I saw him sitting on the sofa alone and intently looking down at his phone.

Hearing the movement, Kiro raised his eyes to look at me with undisguised joy on his face.

Kiro: ….MC, there you are!

MC: Well, I’m here to cheer for you.

He subconsciously turned off the phone screen. Although it was just a quick glance, I saw that he seemed to be watching a cooking tutorial.

Kiro: The sun is so nice today, it’s good weather to go out in.

Kiro: There should be a lot of customers in the restaurant later.

Kiro looked out the window, his face thoughtful.

MC: Well, you don’t have to put too much pressure on yourself. After all, this is a variety show, and cooking is only one aspect.

MC: So all you have to do is show your truest appearance and enjoy the process.

Kiro: I know, it’s just that I haven’t figured out what to do yet….

MC: Huh? You haven’t thought about it yet?

MC: Didn’t we practice a dish at your house last time?

Kiro: But….

Kiro paused. After a while, he seemed to have thought of something, his lips raised in a beautiful arc.

Kiro: But now I have changed my mind.

Kiro: I’m going to keep it a secret for now and surprise you later.

Although there were some doubts in my mind, I also believed Kiro could handle it well. So, after a while, I nodded.

MC: Ok.

MC: If you have any questions, you can send me a text message and I will be there later. Also….

Kiro: Don’t worry, Miss Chips, I have my own coup.

Kiro took my hand and interrupted me with a chuckle.

Kiro: And have you forgotten? No matter what kind of food, I have my own “exclusive recipe”. *changed some wording*

As he said this, he poked my cheek lightly as I did to him before, and also sketched a smile on my face.

Kiro: I will get the best result while enjoying the process.

His eyebrows are curved and my figure is reflected in his clear pupils.

Kiro: So, please wait and see.

(Cut to shooting location)

The bright sunlight passed through the leaves. *changed some wording*

The show officially started filming. Stars who usually have a certain distance from the public are now wearing aprons and running an ordinary restaurant.

I was sitting on a seat in the restaurant and found that the surrounding area was filled with people.

Seeing popular movie stars or idol singers passing by one after another, many guests showed surprised expressions.

Female Star: Hello, this is my chocolate cake.

The female star gave me a sweet smile and the dessert on my table. After thanking her, I took a bite and the sweetness instantly melted in my mouth.

Girl A: Wow, this cake is delicious!

Girl B: Is it? I’ll try it too.

The voices of the two girls from the table over fell into my ears. I glanced around and saw that many people seemed to be very satisfied with the food.

Girl A: The celebrities’ culinary skills are so good too!

Girl B: You’re so stereotypical. By the way, I heard that Kiro is also here. Our “Little Sun’s” cooking skills are guaranteed to surprise you!

Hearing the girl’s words, I couldn’t help but glance at my phone screen. The last text message sent was from Kiro ten minutes ago.

“I’m ready to play!”

I put down the spoon in my hand and couldn’t help but guess what kind of food Kiro intends to make….

After tasting different delicacies one after another, everyone’s expectations were getting higher and higher.

Initially, I just advised Kiro not to be too stressed out but I couldn’t help but feel nervous at this moment….

??: This guest, would you like a delicious mango smoothie?

A familiar voice rang in my ears and I turned my face to meet a pair of sky-blue eyes.

MC: Ki-!

Everyone: AAAAAAHHH IT’S KIRO!!!

The enthusiastic cheers drowned out my voice.

Kiro smiled brightly at them and the screams suddenly became louder. Immediately afterwards, he suddenly turned around, avoiding everyone’s gaze--

He gave a wink towards me.

I couldn’t help but feel my heart beat frantically.

The golden light shone on Kiro’s hair and the person in front of me seemed to be more dazzling than the sun.

Kiro: I saw that you’re sitting there all alone. Don’t you feel a bit lonely?

Before I could answer, he took off the bear doll from his waist and placed it on the seat opposite me.

Kiro gently covered the microphone pinned in the collar and whispered in a voice that only the two of us could hear--

Kiro: Let it temporarily replace me to accompany you.

As soon as his voice fell, he straightened up and looked at the people present.

Kiro: Does anyone else want to try a refreshing fruit smoothie?

The sun was shining, and after tasting many dishes, everyone happened to be a little thirsty. So, they raised their hands enthusiastically.

Kiro: Just hold tight, I’ll come back right away!

Holding the tray, he walked towards the other table of guests. In the scorching afternoon, Kiro’s fruit smoothie became the most popular dish.

Looking at the blond boy walking through the crowd, I couldn’t help but curl my lips up into a smile.

It turns out that this is what he meant by “coup”.

Looking down, I saw Kiro with one hand behind him, making a “V” gesture in my direction.

My smile grew even more. I picked up the mango smoothie on the table and took a sip.

--The taste is really sweet.

[Fourth Part]

As the sunset slowly falls, the shooting is gradually coming to an end.

According to the process, the program team will determine the final prize based on the customers’ evaluation of the food. As a result, the awards were announced one by one with suspension--

Kiro didn’t win.

Kiro: MC!

I looked towards where the voice came from and saw that from not far away, Kiro was walking towards me through the staff surrounding him.

MC: Is it finished?

Kiro: Well, they’re checking out the shooting material.

I thought that Kiro would be a little disappointed if he didn’t win the prize but his face didn’t show the slightest bit of disappointment. Instead, his smile remained the same as usual.

A light flashed before my eyes and I realized that he was holding a golden trophy in his hand.

MC: What is this?

Kiro: This….

He followed my gaze and winked slyly at me suddenly.

Kiro: There are too many people here. Let’s talk about it somewhere else.

(Cut to lounge)

MC: “Most Popular Award….”

In the lounge, I took the trophy from Kiro and repeated what he said.

Kiro: That’s right.

Kiro: They said that because of the popularity of “Kiro’s Special”, the program team made this award.

Kiro: I told you that I wouldn’t break my promise, right?

Kiro said somewhat proudly. I can’t help but smile.

MC: Well, I was a little surprised. But I know that Kiro never disappoints.

MC: By the way, something hasn’t been returned to you yet.

I took out the little bear doll that I had always taken with me. I wanted to give it back to him but he shook his head.

Kiro: This was actually a gift to you to thank you for teaching me how to cook.

MC: In that case, I will accept it without any hesitancy.

As I was talking, a question suddenly came to my mind.

MC: I don’t seem to remember you telling me why you suddenly decided to make a smoothie instead?

Kiro gave me a look and smiled helplessly.

Kiro: When I tell you, you mustn’t laugh at me.

MC: Of course not.

Kiro: Actually, after we started cooking together that day, I practiced many times in private.

Kiro: After all, I’m going to be on the show. I hope that no matter what I’m doing, I can let everyone see my best.

Kiro: But that last time, I still felt that it was not enough.

Kiro’s tone was indifferent but I seemed to hear a little reluctance from it.

Kiro: But after coming to the lounge today, I saw the light outside was very strong.

Kiro: Thinking of everyone sitting in the sun all that time, it must’ve felt a little hot. So, I suddenly came up with an idea.

Those bright blue eyes lit up again and the corners of Kiro’s lips curled up slightly.

Kiro: I think if it were me in this hot weather, I would want a refreshing smoothie more than one of those meals.

Kiro: And this method was a very simple one--

Kiro: It was within the scope of my cooking skills!

I couldn’t help laughing.

I saw that the name tag on his chest was a little crooked, so I stretched out my hand to fix it for him.

MC: So, our “Chef Kiro” decided to make a smoothie?

MC: It was indeed a great idea.

I nodded approvingly. Kiro’s eyes flickered slightly and he suddenly took my wrist.

Kiro: Speaking of which, you brought me this inspiration.

MC: Huh?

Kiro: Didn’t you say that if you put yourself in a happy mood, other people will definitely be able to feel it?

Kiro: Because I was inspired by you, I gradually began to worry less about satisfying everyone and more about what to do to make myself feel satisfied….

Kiro: Therefore, this trophy is also yours.

Kiro winked as he spoke and his lips curled up softly.

Kiro: I wonder how Miss Chips would rate my performance today?

MC: Do you need to ask?

MC: Of course it far exceeds full marks!

Kiro: Even if I didn’t make good enough food?

MC: Even if you didn’t make good enough food.

I repeated it with certainty.

MC: Remember, because you have the most unique “recipe”.

MC: That is Kiro’s signature appeal.

I smiled at him.

MC: During the filming, many people including myself, were affected by your smile and enthusiasm--

MC: It was such a pleasant afternoon.

MC: I believe that this happy mood will be conveyed to all viewers when the show is broadcasted.

MC: Rest assured.

The light in Kiro’s eyes shook slightly and then the corners of his mouth rose even more.

Kiro: Is MC’s evaluation of me that high?

Kiro: Actually, it’s more than that.

Kiro: In fact, there are other “exclusive recipes” that I found.

He pretended to smile mysteriously, held my hand more tightly, and then went on to say--

Kiro: She not only taught me how to cook, but she also gave me great inspiration;

Kiro: And she also told me that no matter what challenge I encounter, I can solve it in Kiro’s fashion as usual.

Kiro: So, when I saw her at the shooting today, I felt confident and smiled uncontrollably….

The gentle voice fell in my ears and I felt my heart beat faster.

Those sapphire eyes looked at me for a moment. In the next second, a chuckle came into my ear--

Kiro: So….

Kiro: For me, she is the recipe that makes everything more perfect.

[End]

You can read the call that comes after this date here!~

#mlqc spoilers #mr love queens choice #mr love #mr love game #mlqc #mlqc kiro #mr love kiro #mr love dream date #周棋洛 #date translation #he's so cute

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years ago

Text

Standards of Performance, Chapter 8: Heartbreak and Lattes

From the Beginning, Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Only announcement for this week: I've started a new job, and my schedule is such that a weekly update is unlikely without the quality being verrrry questionable. Therefore, I've decided to move off a set schedule, but I PROMISE I will update at least twice a month. Thank you for your patience and understanding; I know a set schedule is preferable but I wanna make sure this doesn't go to shit. Also... apparently this isn’t showing up in the tags I use, which sucks - so reblogs help a lot if you’re able. I love you guys <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: In which decisions are made and overturned and many cups of coffee are drunk.

Words: 2666

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You were sulking.

Not enough to affect your work - you’d have to go through something much worse than heartbreak before you risked your internship. But your home life was beginning to resemble a timelapse straight out of an overdramatic teen movie wherein the protagonist’s crush asks someone else to prom. Your apartment was a pile of half-done laundry, takeout containers, and case files; your evenings filled with sad Spotify playlists and too much red wine.

And work? Not much better. Seeing him stride into the office every morning, filled with power and purpose and completely oblivious to the fact that he had shoved your heart into a metaphorical blender with a simple response to a seemingly innocuous question was really starting to wear you down. You had been so sure, that was the thing - so convinced by the team’s reaction to your story that it had all meant something. And maybe it had. But he had looked you in the face and told you it didn’t, so that was the answer that mattered.

So maybe sulking was the wrong word. ‘Spiraling’ was more accurate. A controlled spiral, mitigated only by the fact that 1. you had appearances and responsibilities to maintain and 2. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t actually the reason you showed up to work every morning, despite what it had seemed lately.

And it had seemed like that. You remembered getting the phone call that you had been accepted for an interview for the BAU internship, and the phone call that you made it to the final round, and finally the phone call that you had gotten the position - each more exciting than the last. You remembered meeting him, shaking his hand, completely oblivious to how much he was about to fuck up your life. Even when you first started to feel something for him, you convinced yourself it was nothing - a harmless crush wrought from your veneration and respect for one of the best in the field. Someone you admired. Someone you wanted to be one day. But then he’d made the unfortunate move of revealing bits and pieces of himself to you, exposing tiny slivers of humanity and emotion you were convinced didn’t exist, until you realized he was a person, an incredible one, and it wasn’t just admiration you felt anymore. It took all of a few months and a handful of genuine conversations until you were this far gone, and after he made it clear that your pining was one-sided, you knew you had to stop your fall there.

So you tried.

You kept your conversations strictly professional. Avoided driving with him or sitting next to him on flights whenever possible. Disallowed yourself lingering glances. But it was still too goddamn much. He was still too goddamn much.

The next case pushed you over the edge. It was bad (not just normal bad, BAU bad), and it was no one’s fault, not really. You got called in late, the evidence was shoddy at best, and when all was said and done, you caught the unsub, but only after he’d killed 4 women. The last one died moments before you arrived and apprehended the killer, and despite the delay of those few minutes being, again, no one’s fault, the team was at each other’s throats the whole trip home.

You were slouched in the corner of the plane trying to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Morgan and Reid were sniping viciously about something completely unrelated to the case, because despite everything they’d just endured, they would never outright blame each other for what went wrong. Hotch, deciding he’d heard enough, raised his head slightly and said quietly,

“They’re not always going to end the way we want. We did all we could.”

And you were just done. You couldn’t stand to be around this pillar of strength and compassion and resolve. You needed to hate him for rejecting you, and you couldn’t. So you marched over to his seat, and, steeling yourself, you said what you’d been wanting to say since he broke your heart:

“I need a day off.”

It had sounded more dramatic in your head.

“A day off?”

You nodded. Hotch gathered himself, seeming to realize that such a request wasn’t unheard of (though perhaps in his department it essentially was) and nodded.

“This case was difficult. I wish I could say exceptionally so. Get me your paperwork by tonight and take tomorrow off.”

You went back to your seat, relief overshadowed by disgust that it wasn’t, in fact, the 4 deaths you’d just been privy to that had broken you - it was the crush on your boss. You’d handled this case like a champ, in fact, because you were so absorbed in self-pity that you couldn’t feel anything else.

You needed to fucking recalibrate.

***

You were determined to make the next 24 hours the most self-indulgent, healing 24 hours you’d ever experienced. Quiet breakfast at a cafe? Planned. Self-improvement books? Downloaded. Vibrator? Fully charged.

No man was going to keep you from focusing on the internship you’d been gunning for for years. No man was worth that. You were going to cry, you were going to journal, you were going to masturbate, and you were going to get him out of your head.

You were going to march into the quaint little coffeeshop two blocks away that you’d Googled last night, you were going to order the cinnamon spice latte that an indie food blog had called “the epitome of fall,” and you were going to go for a nice, early morning walk.

Except you weren’t.

Because the next morning, when you turned to leave after grabbing your drink from the barista, you saw Hotch sitting at the table by the window. And Hotch saw you. And you weren’t equipped to handle this situation, because you were only 4 pages into your self-help book so far and honestly, the smile that lit up his face when you made eye contact would’ve broken you even if you’d read all the ‘how to move on’ manuals the literary world had ever produced.

So you obeyed his beckoning hand and sat down.

“Thought you’d be up to something much more exciting on your one day off.”

You smiled wryly. “This is exciting. I haven’t had coffee that wasn’t made out of an ancient breakroom pot or a hotel carafe in months.”

Hotch chuckled. “I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake by coming here. Breakroom coffee is going to be impossible to tolerate now.”

“That good, huh?”

“Better. Try it.”

His eyes on you, you took a sip of your latte, and swallowed the most delicious concoction you’ve ever tasted in your life.

“Holy shit.”

“Indeed,” Hotch confirmed, ignoring your vulgarity. “I’ve been coming here before work for years.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I impose on your hangout,” you laughed. “I haven’t tried many coffee shops around here, but I imagine this is hard to beat.”

“Not at all. But just know - this is my table.”

You grinned. “Understood.”

You still went on that walk. Still read that book. Still spent the day trying to think about anything else but the softness of that moment - you and Hotch sipping lattes, bathed in the light of the early morning sun.

But on Thursday, the next day, bright and early, you found yourself at that coffee shop again. This time, you took a seat at the table adjacent to his. He looked up and smiled.

“Glad you heeded my advice.”

You smiled back and gestured to the heaping pile of files in front of him. “Not like there’d be much room for me anyways.”

You finished your coffees in relative silence and left at the same time for the office.

Friday, you learned Hotch’s coffee order: flat white with an extra shot of espresso.

Saturday, you happened to arrive before he did, so you ordered his drink and set it on his table. Ten minutes passed and you thought he wasn’t going to show up, but he soon bustled in looking frantic. You waved him over, and he smiled when he saw the coffee waiting for him.

“Sorry, got stuck on a phone call,” he apologized. Like you were expecting him. Like this was something you guys did now.

You supposed it was.

Sunday, you got called for a case before you even made it to the coffee shop. You sat down in the conference room at 6 am, groggy as all hell. Hotch entered after you and handed you a mug, saying nothing before moving to address the team.

There was a small sticky note attached to the mug that read, “It’s no cinnamon spice latte, but it’s caffeine just the same.”

You fought to keep a grin from splitting your face, and ignored the team’s knowing smirks.

The case was in a small town in Colorado. The motel the team was staying in was less than ideal because of the location - bare bones, broken heaters, probably had the same bedsheets since its opening over 50 years ago. There was a small coffee pot in your room, and after you arrived Sunday evening, you walked down the street to the small convenience store and bought a bag of ground coffee.

When you handed him the cup Monday morning, he looked at it like it was salvation itself. Which, judging by the dark circles under his eyes, it may well have been.

“Long night?” you asked, loading into the back of the SUV.

“Always,” he responded from the front seat. He took a sip of the coffee. “I don’t mean to offend, but this is terrible.”

You gasped in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that is genuine Folgers pre-ground gas station coffee.”

“It tastes like it was made in a toilet,” he grumbled. He took another sip and smirked at you in the rearview mirror.

You’d long stopped trying to get over him.

After the case in Colorado, the team was given a merciful break from the rapid-fire calls they’d been caught up in the last few months.

You and Hotch continued your pre-work ritual, showing up to the coffee shop earlier and earlier each day. For you, it was a conscious attempt to spend more time with him. He didn’t acknowledge the extra 20 minutes that had worked its way into the morning routine, but you could only hope his intentions were the same.

One particularly chilly fall day, you burst in the door 10 minutes later than your unofficial meeting time. Hotch shot you a patented raised eyebrow as you unwrapped your scarf and took your seat.

“Overslept?”

“No,” you retorted, “I was trying to make breakfast and my stove stopped working. Again. Maintenance can’t come fix it for two days.”

“Did you eat?” he asked.

“No, I was just gonna grab a muffin or something here.”

He nodded and went back to his laptop.

The next day, you sat down to a metal thermos on your table.

“What’s this?” you asked him.

“Oatmeal,” he responded without looking up. “You said your stove was broken.”

You opened the thermos to a puff of brown sugar-scented steam and the feeling that your heart was going to burst out of your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered, afraid your voice would crack if you spoke any louder.

He looked over at you with an expression softer than you’d ever seen him wear. “You’re welcome.”

A week later, you’d miraculously worked your way through the backed-up deluge of paperwork from the last few cases, and after clicking through the morning’s emails, you slammed your laptop shut.

“We should go for a walk,” you said to Hotch, who somehow still had a stack of files in front of him that was threatening to surpass the table’s weight capacity.

“A walk?” Hotch asked, looking at the aforementioned files as if he were afraid they’d hear him considering the idea of a break.

“Yeah,” you responded. “Come on. It’s so pretty outside, and it’s gonna be too cold soon. Besides, we’re more caught up with work than we have been in months.”

“Speak for yourself,” he quipped, but he packed his briefcase just the same.

It really was beautiful outside. As soon as you stepped out the door, a gust of wind sent red and orange leaves skittering across the sidewalk at your feet. You wrapped your scarf tighter around your neck and motioned to the park across the street.

“Want to walk through the park?”

Hotch shrugged, a noncommittal ‘yes’, and followed you.

The park was sprawling, packed with massive trees in the midst of displaying their autumnal colors. Despite the early hour, there were joggers and dog-walkers populating the dirt path that meandered through. You strolled side by side, making idle chat about the weather and the holidays coming up, until you came to a bench set beside a pond in a small grove. Hotch took a seat and you followed his lead.

Reclining your head against the back of the bench, you exhaled. “This is the closest I’ve come to being out in nature in forever. I need to do this more often.”

Hotch murmured his agreement. “I’d apologize for the lack of free time, but I’m afraid it only gets worse.”

“When you officially join the team, you mean?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Assuming that’s something you’re interested in.”

“Of course I am,” you said, “but I didn’t think it was really up to me.”

“It’s not - I give the final recommendation.”

“Better start buying you more coffees then,” you teased, looking over at him.

“Unfortunately, as Unit Chief, I have a responsibility not to accept bribery.” He smiled back.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You studied his face - the stern curve of his brow, the carved structure of his jaw, the stress lines set in from decades of sleepless nights and unspeakable losses. Despite the increasing time you’d been spending in close proximity, you were mesmerized, as always, by the stormy intensity of his eyes meeting yours. You were close enough to smell his cologne, and you were reminded of the night in his apartment when he told you about his family. If you thought you’d fallen for him then, it was nothing compared to how you felt now, after starting each morning sitting beside him in the quiet peace of that downtown coffee shop.

“We should get going,” he murmured, not checking his watch, not shifting his gaze from yours. You nodded, not fully comprehending his words, feeling dazed at his nearness.

It was impossible to tell who made the first, imperceptible shift. All you knew is you scarcely had time to think before his hand was on your jaw, cradling the back of your head, bringing you to him. His mouth met yours and you closed your eyes instinctively, melting into his warm body beside you, fisting the front of his jacket in your hands.

You couldn’t remember ever having been kissed so decisively before. His fingers gripped into the base of your skull, his forehead nearly pressed against yours, and despite the chastity of your closed mouths, you whimpered into his. He stiffened at the sound and pulled back, still holding you, inches away.

You saw the shift in his eyes before he moved. It was as if he consciously closed some gate, walling himself off. His pupils, blown, started to retract to their normal size, frown returned, hand drew back. You watched, heart still racing, unable to speak as he turned to grab the briefcase sitting at his feet. Only then did he look back at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and if his low voice was meant to betray any hint of emotion, you didn’t hear it.

He stood, walked around the back of the bench towards the path, and paused.

“I’ll see you at the office.”

You were too shell-shocked to reply.

218 notes · View notes

yellowocaballero · 4 years ago

Note

hi i know it's been the hottest of seconds but director's cut for the prophetic spring if you're still doing these? 👀

Sure! I’ve spoken a lot about the prophetic spring, but I’m fairly certain I could give some meta information about my intense life-long obsession with Tim Drake. Dude has been showing up in my fics since I was 14.

But actually, the ficlet I wrote ages ago might be more interesting? So here it is. Exploring a dynamic that was WAY underserved for how important it is: the Steph, Cass, Tim dynamic!

No CW that haven’t appeared in the prophetic spring, but specific mention for drug addiction and drug depiction, as well as references to molestation, abortion, torture, and suicide. Story under the cut.

Tim stared down into the toilet bowl. It was a little yellowed. He needed to clean it.

He stared at the small baggie of pills in his hand.

He visualized dropping it into the bowl, flushing it. Possibly mutating an alligator, or giving the race of mole people that lived in the Gotham sewers a nice surprise.

Tim sighed, and pocketed the drugs. Maybe tomorrow.

A month after the incident with a runaway foster kid and a, in retrospect, kind of embarrassing fake fight with his older brother, Tim got a text from an unknown number. To make matters worse, it was at an insane hour of the day - noon.

Texts from strangers were hardly uncommon. Tim had an extensive contact network, growing larger by the day, but he had set up a Google Voice on his computer so they were all routed through a program there. Being bothered at all hours of the day on his phone was hardly his idea of a good time. The only people who really had his real number were his bullshit ‘friends’ and his asshole ‘family’. He hadn’t even given his number to his ‘friends’ - he had given it to Kon under strict confidentiality, and then Kon had given it to all of Young Justice. Asshole.

405-555-1998: dropping by in three hours so make sure ur presentable :)

As Tim had just woken up, most of his brain was occupied by a single whuh?

Just as his mind swirled in sleepy confusion, his phone buzzed again.

405-555-1998: B1706XQE45

The code checked out. It was an ally, not an unknown or an enemy.

Tim groaned, covering his eyes with an elbow. He needed coffee.

****

The coffee was a new thing - rather, it was something he had drunk plenty of growing up, because there had been nobody around to inform him that coffee was bad for developing brains. Growing up completely unsupervised was probably why Tim was a drug addict now. He could totally blame this on his parents never loving him.

Not a drug addict, Tim thought to himself anxiously as the coffee sputtered into the extra large gallon pot. Just someone who...uses drugs...in an unhealthy way. Substance abu - substance user, who just used it maybe as a bad coping mechanism. Not that Tim had good coping mechanisms, but it was better than sawing off heads or becoming a drug lord. When you thought about it, it was either being a serial killer or doing drugs, so logically it means that he should do more drugs to decrease the amount of fun little murders he does -

Tim made toast.

The coffee was a new thing, because he was trying to use it to replace the drugs. He had cut back. The stupid little sorority that called themselves the Birds of Prey had been talking to him about it. He had agreed to try. It was best to set expectations low, so he couldn’t disappoint. Actually, Tim loved disappointing, maybe he should set them higher. Maybe he could make inspirational speeches about how he was a good guy now? Ha ha.

The three hours had been a deft move. The texter knew noon was his average wake-up time at best, and the three hours gave him enough time to sober up if he had been high or drunk at the time. Tim didn’t like to start popping the minute he woke up, but - well, sometimes he did. Or sometimes he was awake at noon because he had been on an all-nighter drug binge. They hadn’t given their name, either, which meant that it was somebody who he wouldn’t want to see.

He could bounce, escape to some corner of Gotham until they gave up. Except he had the sense that whoever had gone through the effort to get his number wasn’t the type to give up. Almost nobody Tim knew was the type to give up. His ‘friends’ and his ‘family’ never gave up. On anybody but him.

A voice in his head, not quite yet suffocated, sounding altogether too much like the Replacement, echoed in endless attempts to get him to come back. Oh, whatever. Kid was a try-hard. He needed better taste in made up families.

Over the next three hours, he debated his tactics. If he wasn’t escaping and the texter was playing the buddy card, then the situation probably wasn’t dangerous. He strapped in his armor under the baggy pyjamas that he never took off anyway, and spitefully made no effort to control his hair. He did put on make-up, an old hand from keeping CPS off Bruce’s trail - man, he should have pretended Bruce was molesting him, that would have been funny as fuck - to hide the bags under his eyes. No use looking pathetic.

He hid a few more weapons around his apartment. He anxiously checked his phone, staring not at the new texts but at Harley’s offer sent a week ago. He still hadn’t replied. He didn’t know what to do with it.

As if he could ever feel safe sleeping under the same roof as her?

As if he ever felt safe anywhere?

Maybe he had nothing to lose. That was the greatest part about this, the most wonderful aspect of what he had done to everybody in his life. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. That’s freedom, or so Janis had always told him. She knew what she was about. Overdosing on heroin at 27 - that was understanding what it meant, to have nothing. To be free. He was almost jealous.

At two on the dot, a polite knock echoed through the apartment. Tim looked up from where he was relaxing on the couch, with all of the possible entry points in his line of sight. That wasn’t a knock he had memorized, and he had memorized everyone’s knocks.

Nothing for it. He’d have to get rid of them as quickly as possible. Maybe he can pull the insane sociopath schtick again; that had always been effective in ditching his parents. Tim sighed, walked over to the door, swiped his thumb against the keypad, undid the three deadbolts, and opened door only to see -

Stephanie Brown, hands propped on her hips and smiling widely. Cassandra Wayne, standing right behind her, serene as ever.

Tim closed the door - or he tried. Steph had expected the move, and the minute he had opened the door her foot had jutted out and blocked him from closing the door. Effortlessly, she wrenched it back open and stepped into his apartment, forcing him to press against the wall and scowl as insane women infiltrated his space.

“Wow,” Steph said loudly, “this place looks like a wreck!”

Tim groaned.

***

The thing with Steph and Cass was this:

How to describe it?

The sister he had never expected, the best friend he had never thought he would have. Cass was his twin, Robin’s shadow, the other side of his mountain. Bruce had adopted Cass barely five months after he became Robin, and Tim had unabashedly resented her for stealing Bruce’s attention so quickly. He had always liked her more, but Bruce had liked everyone more than Tim, so maybe it was no surprise. She was sweet, kind, gentle, and no trouble. Tim wasn’t any trouble either, but he couldn’t be the rest of it if it bit him in his ass.

Robin was the brain. Cass was the muscle. They were a team so closely linked, conjoined at the hip, that Tim couldn’t remember a patrol ever done without her. Bruce had let them start patrolling alone at fourteen (“You didn’t let me work alone until I was fifteen, and I was an assassin,” Damian had spat), and they had been an unbeatable team. Robin’s hand-to-hand was weak, but nobody ever got through Batgirl. Batgirl struggled with technical knowledge, reading and writing and investigating and chasing down leads, the only area where Tim had ever excelled. Together, they had almost been as good as Batman. Sometimes, Tim had let himself think that they might be better.

They had been so similar. Everyone had always said so. They’re both so quiet, the Justice League had said. Emotionless little freaks, the Rogues had said. Neither of them blink, their schoolmates had said. But there had been nothing to say, not between them: they could have a conversation without words, without even Sign. Cass had known every twitch of Tim’s body, had understood him down to his core. Nobody else ever had. Everybody had always called Tim inscrutable and impossible to understand - but to Cass, Tim had been an open book. She knew every inch of him. And she had loved him anyway.

And Steph! When Steph had found them when they were fourteen veering on fifteen, and from then on it was as if she had always been there. She was so big, so smiling, so much, and she had never apologized for any of it. Nothing scared her. To Tim, that was the perfect vigilante - somebody who was scared of nothing, who never hesitated, who was good.

Not even Bruce could intimidate her. When Tim was fourteen, he had thought that was the most amazing thing in the world. Bruce intimidated everyone, but Steph had just stuck out her tongue and kept badly backflipping off roofs anyway. Through twin convincing, Tim and Cass had convinced Bruce to give her a chance, and Spoiler had slot into their dynamic perfectly. She was their best friend, always.

She wasn’t good at hand-to-hand at first, but Tim had improved by then, and they could cover her. She improved faster than he had, and judging from the reconnaissance footage Tim had frantically consumed after he came back to life, she was amazing now. She was wickedly smart, practical and down to Earth. If Tim was better at hacking into a computer, Steph was the one who found the post-it note with the password stuck under the desk.

But more than any of that, she had brought the social skills. She had brought the calming presence, the sweet hand to victims and civilians, and her good humor was infectious. Steph was good with people. She was a born leader. Resilient. Brave. Everybody liked her. Everybody loved her. Tim had. She had loved him too. She could have done so much better than Tim and Cass, weird little societal rejects, but she had chosen them as her family.

It had been the three of them. For as long as Tim’s life had meaning, for as long as he had been loved, they had loved him. Tim had grown up alone, in a world of one, and they had infiltrated it. They had expanded it, and they dragged his life into more than just Tim. Into Tim-and-Cass-and-Steph. Into Robin-Batgirl-Spoiler. Into meaning, and love.

Tim hated them. And he wanted them to suffer.

“That’s the Stephanie Brown I remember,” Tim sneered, closing the door behind him. Steph had quickly thrown herself onto Tim’s couch, clearly somewhat surprised at how comfortable it was, and Cass had perched daintily on the arm. Cass had always refused to sit like a normal person - she would rather sit on the backs of sofas, or on the arm, or perched on chairs like a bird - “If I had known you were coming I would have jumped cities.”

“We would have chased you down and you know that,” Steph said cheerfully, like she said fucking everything. “Besides, if you had known we were coming you would have gone into witness protection. You’ve been avoiding the fuck outta us.”

“Wonder why,” Tim said, injecting as much mean-spirited sarcasm into his voice as possible. “I need more coffee, don’t go through my shit.”

The apartment was small, and the kitchen had a cut-away wall where he could see through into the living room. Stephanie hated nothing more than being ignored or looked down upon, and if he dismissed her and didn’t react then she’d grow infuriated with him and leave. He couldn’t fight with her, because if it came down to a battle of rhetoric or emotions she’d win single-handedly. She was so good with words. Cass...had no weaknesses.

Which was inconvenient, because it was Cass he absolutely had to get rid of as soon as possible. She was very emotional, and more than a little sensitive. Especially to rejection. If he was cruel enough to her, she’d start crying and leave. There was only one problem with that.

As he jammed more grounds into the machine he watched the girls out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t talking or whispering to each other, both fully aware of how well Tim could read lips. They weren’t even having one of those body language conversations they could only have with each other, aware that Tim could crack that too. Instead Stephanie was casually sprawled on his couch, looking for all the world like a middle aged dad watching the football game, looking around the room. Cass, as usual, was zoning out. Or, of course, looked like she was zoning out - Tim could tell that she was waiting for something to happen, and was preparing herself for it.

Shit. Tim fought the urge to gnaw on his fingernail. Cass was going to be a problem.

He risked another glance backwards. She could see him, so she knew. Fuck. He had never been on the other side of her mind reading. It was fucking inconvenient. Psychics should be shot on sight.

The coffee sloshed into the biggest cup he could find in his kitchen, and Tim began draining it immediately as he leaned over the cutaway. He kept the cup held up to his face, obscuring it. Face covered, everything under the elbows covered - best he could do without preparation.

“This little field trip sanctified by Sgt. Brother?” Tim asked, sipping the scalding hot coffee. Not hot enough. He needed - he needed - they’d see -

“We’re nineteen, we don’t need his permission for everything we do,” Steph said, amused. So she was going to speak for Cass - hardly unusual, as whenever they were all together Steph tended to be the only one who spoke - but seeing as Tim was Tim then it was definitely a strategy.

“He lets his precious baby sisters knock on the door of drug lords for fun?” Tim sneered.

“If they’re incompetent and retired, sure!”

Tim gritted his teeth. Don’t rise to her bait. Don’t. She was the best person in the family at getting a rise out of their enemies. He didn’t stand a chance.

“What do you want?”

“We thought we’d take you roller skating at the rink,” Steph chirped.

Tim stared at her.

“Or the pool,” Steph said, faux-thoughtfully. “Or just the mall?”

Fuck this. Tim headed for the door, ready to walk out of the building barefoot in his pyjamas. He tugged at the doorknob, only to find that it wouldn’t open.

Tim breathed in through his nose, then out through his mouth. There were other exits. He was not trapped. Had his apartment always been so small? He could have sworn that it was bigger.

He turned around slowly. Stephanie was grinning at him, twirling what looked like a small plastic cylinder. Tim recognized it instantly - fancy League tech. Overrides all electronic locks and controls them. They all used it to trap perps and heighten their fear tactics. Tim jammed his thumb on the keypad. Nothing happened.

Cass glanced at Steph, and made a small motion. Tim couldn’t interpret it. Why couldn’t he interpret it? Did they have a new code? It was Cass. When nobody else had understood her, Tim always had. Now they had their own language, one that Tim couldn’t interpret anymore. Tim was lost in translation, always drifting.

“We aren’t bringing you in,” Steph said, just as light as ever. No trace of pity or caution or gentleness in her voice: just relentless cheer. “Literally all we want to do is talk. Play a board game, maybe?”

Tim’s eyes flickered to the hidden panel in the wall next to him where he had stashed a gun and a sword.

“Bro,” Steph said, “you really don’t want to escalate this.”

“Do you think you can take me?” Tim asked curiously, letting his hand drift to his arm. He shook his long pyjama sleeve down to cover his wrist. “That’s pretty cute. Last time I checked, you’re the shittiest at hand-to-hand in your team.”

But Steph just rolled her eyes. Shit, wasn’t he supposed to be ignoring her? He couldn’t, not so long as she kept pushing and pushing. Not so long as she was in his house. “Leave off. Just because Jay and I are the last people in the fam who weren’t trained in Mystical Ninja Arts doesn’t mean I’m incompetent. Hands in the air, by the way.”

Stephanie was overly sentimental. New tactic. He raised his hands slightly in the air, caught reaching for the weapon hidden in his armor. “Incompetent enough to let me die.”

There. Finally. Thank god, Tim thought he was losing his touch. The muscles clenched in Stephanie’s jaw, and just a twitch of her eye - banishing a bad memory. “Everybody’s been saying you’ve turned rude. I guess you’ve just been avoiding us because you don’t want to hurt our feelings, right?”

“I didn’t remember a lot when I was first resurrected,” Tim said casually, despite the fact that he had never told anybody about the first awful six months. Something about Steph and Cass just pried it out of him, like invasive surgery. Or an autopsy. “I remember everything about those six months, though. Homeless. Practically retarded. Brain damage does that to you, you know. I lived on the streets, did you know that? It was a miracle I lived through it.” He gasped, as if he was remembering something. “I slept on 34th street! You lived near there, didn’t you? Maybe you even walked by me.”

Steph went white. Cass’ expression froze. He was pushing hard, but these two wouldn’t react to anything less. Steph could trade barbs better than he could, even now.

“It’s a good thing Talia found me,” Tim continued. “She was the only one who cared.”

That did it. Steph tensed, leaning forward, and even Cass stiffened. “Is that what she told you? How can you believe her?”

Tim just shrugged, walking back to the kitchen and hiding his body language again. He took an extra loud slurp of the coffee, just to be annoying. “Talia never lied to me. She said that nobody cared enough to save me. And guess what!”

Steph’s jaw clenched again. She was a hot head. A fierce temper, an impulsive girl who jumped in feet first and sanity second. Woman, now. When had that happened? “Cut that shit out. We all know what you’re doing. You’ve been doing it to everyone. Did you think Connor didn’t warn us?”

Snitch. Tim slurped his coffee again. “Connor’s been telling everyone to give me space.”

“Yeah, everyone but us.” She stood up now, ignoring the flicker of a frown on Cass’ face, and folded her arms. A challenge against the world. Against Tim. It didn’t matter. “You don’t believe half the shit you’re spewing. You’ve never believed your own bullshit, Tim. You’re just saying it to drive everybody away. It’s not going to work on us.”

“Why?” Tim asked innocently. “You’re too thick?”

“Because we love you!” Steph cried. Tim rolled his eyes. As if he hadn’t heard that one before. “Saving Richie proved it, you aren’t as insane as you keep pretending you are. You know what you’re doing is wrong, you just don’t care.”

“Wow, you caught me.” Tim took another long swig of his coffee. It was making his hands jittery. Good. “Local genius aware of his actions. Call the press. Call Uncle Clark, he needs a scoop.” He arched an eyebrow at Steph. She hated that expression of his - she had always found it so aristocratic and pretentious. Joke’s on her, he was pretentious. “Do you mind if I go do a line? I’m not high enough for this conversation.”

If she had told him who she was, he would have done a line anyway just to spite her, and she knew it. “You don’t want to try,” Steph said stubbornly, “but you’re trying. You don’t want to care, but you care. You don’t want to feel it, but it hurts so much you can’t bear it. You can’t get anything past us, Tim. It’s always just been us. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Doesn’t that mean -

“What that means,” Tim said, and he found the words scraping his throat. He found himself talking a little louder than he meant to. The coffee, you know. Made you jittery. “is that you should have saved me. If you loved me so fucking much, you would have been anything other than useless. You’ve always been the most useless girl in the world, Steph. You couldn’t save your crook of a dad or your junkie of a mom. You couldn’t save your baby and you couldn’t save me. You’re ghetto trash putting on airs, and everyone can smell it on you.”

As soon as he said it, he tensed. He shifted his stance, ready to throw the coffee and spill the scalding liquid on her. Obscure her vision. It would take a second for her to vault the cover, so he could duck down. From there he could get the gun, shoot the window, jump out the window. She couldn’t win. Tim had the most powerful weapon in the world in his disposal and that was his infinite, burning hate. His hate for Steph and Cass burned him to the ground, and his world with it, and he was going to burn them to cinders because he couldn’t do anything else.

But Steph didn’t move. Cass got off the sofa. She walked up to Steph, and gently pressed a hand on her shoulder. She squeezed. Steph exhaled, long and shaking, and nodded at Cass. She walked into Tim’s bedroom - hey! - and shut the door.

Then Cass stared at Tim, and there was no more need for words. Not between them.

Tim vaulted the cut away wall, aiming for her feet first. Cass didn’t dodge - that would imply that she moved like an object moved. She moved like water moved - swift and supple, with such infinite grace and precision that it was like she wasn’t human at all.

But he had gotten better. He didn’t spend two and half years trained by the League of Assassins in crochet. Tim lashed out with a foot, she dodged again. He threw a punch, she moved. He feinted, clearly leaving her an opening, and she didn’t take it.

Bitch.

Cass shoved away his coffee table, sending it skidding across the floor and opening the floor space. The rug became their arena, tight and intimate, no room for maneuverability. Tim acted and she reacted, Tim lashed out a sweep kick and she jumped over it, Tim tried to grapple and she broke his hold. She never threw him to the ground, never pinned him. She just moved.

She was good, but not good enough to toy with him and win completely. The way to win against Cass was to leverage your height - Tim was taller than he once was, although that wasn’t saying much - weight, and strength against her. A couple good hits and she was down.

The issue, of course, was hitting her.

He got a hit in. It was much easier when she wasn’t even fighting back. She rolled with it effortlessly, taking the impact to gain a little space between them. She breathed deeply, sweat rolling down her neck. Tim used to take a cold compress and press it to that neck. She used to smile at him. Thank you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said.

“Too bad,” Tim said.

Fights weren’t like in television, long and choreographed extended scenes to entertain and thrill. When Ro - Tim was in a fight, a real fight, it was typically finished in less than a minute. The only way that a match can get long is if the other person was deliberately tiring you out - a risky strategy - or if you were of completely equal strengths with similar fighting styles. Or if it was a spar.

As Tim tried to hit her again and again, he realized that it was a spar.

No, not even that. It was a conversation.

Tim grabbed her wrist, and said: I want you to hurt. Cass broke the hold, telling him that he can’t. Tim leveraged the motion and kneed her in the back, telling her that the only goal of this fight was pain. Cass let the impact take her down to the mat, an incredibly disadvantageous position, but rolled out of the way just as Tim tried to exploit the opportunity. I’m not scared of you. Tim hit again, and again, and again, failing every time. I want you gone, Tim said, and this is the only way I know how to do it.

This is what Tim said: as much as I once loved you, I now hate you. The infinite depths of my love, my twin sister, how we moved in perfect sync. I hate it all. As much as I cared, I now hate. Feel this hate. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said.

They moved in perfect sync, even now. Cass couldn’t predict his movements before he made them, like she used to - his training was different now, developed and refined. But Cass knew the League of Assassins too, had been trained by them just as he had, and they were written into her bones when they were only carved into Tim’s. After his third patented Talia move, she adjusted to fit his style, and their fight metamorphosed into more of a dance. Like they used to.

“Why not!” Tim screamed, the stupidest possible thing to do in a fight, but Cass didn’t take advantage of his exhale. He lashed out a fist to cover the opening, but it was lazy and over-extended, and she dodged easily. “I’m going to kill you!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tim desperately tried to call the green to his vision. It was so easy. All he had to do was tap into that rage. Talia had called it blood lust. Said it was normal, even good. But it wouldn’t come. Where was it? It was his only friend.

Desperately, Tim went in for another punch to the face - Cass’ jaw was the weakest part of her body, an old injury - but he over-extended again, and this time Cass took the opportunity. She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, dropping him to the mat. She didn’t try to twist him around, instead landing him on his back. Bad move for her.

She kneed him in the chest, putting her full hundred and thirty pounds on him. She twisted his hands behind his back, pinning him, and Tim could do barely more than wheeze.

He looked at her in the eyes for the first time. They were infuriatingly calm. Her hair was tangled and clumped with sweat, but she wasn’t breathing hard. Her expression was placid and serene, as if she was watching one of her stupid fucking nature documentaries instead of pinning her brother to a hard and scratchy rug in a shithole apartment, three years after he was tortured to insanity and shot himself in the head.

So much time had passed. So much had happened, nasty and festering and putrid, and Tim had let it happen. He had made it happen. There was a rot in Tim, and it had eaten him up until there was nothing inside. If you cut him open, would it spill out? Would it infect her, infect Steph? Could he make them suffer?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass repeated. “So don’t be scared.”

“Scared?! I’m not fucking -” Tim wheezed, cut off by the lack of air as Cass pressed down.

“I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t mean to leave you alone. But I did. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill -”

Cass pressed down on his chest again, cutting him off. She had finally done the one thing nobody in Tim’s life had ever figured out: how to make him shut up. “You can be as mean to me as you want. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll stay.”

Tim wheezed. In that, maybe, Cass heard something, because she continued as if he had spoken. Or maybe she just wanted the chance to talk. It had been stolen from her for thirteen years, and it was valuable to her.

“You do not have to be kind. You do not have to hug me, even if I want you to. You do not have to be my brother. I know it hurts too much. But you are me. I am you. You do not even have to try for that. I do not have to give it to you. You have it.”

Tim couldn’t help it. He cried a little, and then he couldn’t stop.

Cass got off him, but she kept her promise. She didn’t hug him. She just propped him up against the sofa, holding his hand, and didn’t speak. At some point the door creaked, and he felt Stephanie next to him.

This is why, Tim thought hysterically, he had been avoiding them.

He knew this would happen. There was no hiding from Cass. There was no posturing, no pretending. She didn’t want anything from him. She never had. There was nothing he could say that would drive her away, because Cass did not listen to the words people spoke. She spoke only for clarity, when she could not afford for her words to be misconstrued, and for the comfort of others.

Cass knew that he had been lying out of his ass. Cass knew that he wasn’t as insane as he pretended, as cruel as he wanted to be.

He couldn’t make Cass hate him. Shit.

None of them said anything. Nothing needed to be said, not between the three of them. Cass might be having a silent conversation in Sign with Steph, but he didn’t care enough to open his eyes and look. When they had first met, it used to make Steph so mad that Tim and Cass were having ‘secret conversations’. She had poured over her dictionaries, learning as quickly as physically possible so she could keep up. Everything Steph had, she had worked hard for.

Steph was in college now. Premed. She wanted to be an ER doctor. Steph wasn’t a genius, she had to study hard. She wouldn’t be able to superhero in med school, so she was ready to hang up her cape for a few years until she achieved her dream. Steph said that she could do just as much good as a doctor as a superhero. She hadn’t always wanted it. When they were kids and Bruce used to ask her what she wanted to do when she grew up, in his awkward faux-dad way, she had always shrugged and said that she might be a nurse.

“Why not med school?” Bruce had suggested, between sleepy spoonfuls of oatmeal. She used to spend more nights at their place than at her own. Her mom hadn’t noticed.

Steph had just shrugged awkwardly, nibbling her whole-wheat organic toast that she would stare at suspiciously. Rich people, she would say, sighing. “I would never be able to afford it. And no way I’m smart enough.”

“You’re good enough,” Bruce said, which was the closest he ever came to praising somebody. “I’ll pay for it.”

Steph had gaped. Cass had eaten her Lucky Charms smugly. Tim had rolled his eyes. “An in-the-know doctor for the vigilante community would be invaluable,” he had informed her, pretentious and callous. “We could use you.”

“You deserve it,” Cass had signed.

“You have a bright future, Stephanie,” Bruce said, buckling under the panic of being a responsible adult. “I would hate to see you waste it.”

He would hate to see any of them waste their future. He had hated to see what Tim had become. He knew that. The last time he had ever seen Bruce, it was just to disappoint him. Bruce was the only parent he had ever had, and his standards were so sky high it was impossible to do anything other than disappoint.

The fact of the matter was this: he loved Cass and Steph more than he loved Bruce. He could hate Bruce. He could hate himself. But Cass and Steph…

Bruce had ear-marked a lot of money for Steph, both for whatever continuing education she chose and for her future. It had raised a lot of questions among the lawyer team, but ultimately she had been written off as another of his strays. Tim had left her a lot of money too. There probably wasn’t any point: when she married Cass she’d have equal access to the fortune. Rich people, Stephanie used to whisper in awe, looking at organic toast.

Cass was majoring in dance. She wanted to be a ballerina.

Tim’s future...Tim’s future…

“Or we can watch a nature documentary,” Steph said out loud. “If we all promise not to say a fucking word.”

Incredibly, unmistakably, irrevocably, Tim groaned. “Not the fucking bee one again.”

“I like the bees,” Cass said serenely.

“If you aren’t going to get out of my house can I at least smoke up?” Tim asked miserably.

“I brought gummy bears,” Steph said, chipper as ever, “which are way better.”

“I’m going to the fucking bathroom,” Tim grumbled, which everybody knew was as good as a yes.

“If you take anything I’ll know,” Cass said serenely, and also threatened.

“Fuck you, bitch.”

Steph and Cass high-fived, and Tim sulked angrily to the bathroom. He took a second to look at himself in the mirror - looking for Tim Drake, failing, as always - before opening it and grabbing his baggie of pills.

He looked at it. He looked at the toilet. He looked at the baggie.

He didn’t flush them. He put them back in the medicine cabinet. Tomorrow. He’ll do them tomorrow. Not today. He can hold out for 24 hours. It’ll be fine.

For a wild, stupid, insane second, Tim wondered if he could say that tomorrow too. If tomorrow he would look at them and say: maybe tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that…

If there was a future, for a fuck-up like him.

The faint strains of Cass’ stupid fucking bee documentary began playing through the thin walls of his shitty little apartment, and Tim turned out the lights of his bathroom and closed the door, locking it securely behind him.

#i write a lot of shit i don't post and i don't feel the need to post it a lot of the time #but sometimes im like. ah yeah that does exist maybe they'll care #my writing #tim drake #batman #batfam #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #do not FUCKING get met started on tim cass and steph im OBSESSED

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plussizeappreciationfics · 4 years ago

Text

Series: Just the assistant..?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Plus sized reader

Warning(s): adult language

Word count: 2,3k

Picture(s) found on: Pinterest/Google

CHAPTER TWO: The boundaries have been overstepped

“I’m fine, just make sure that the stylist closes the door behind her once you’re gone” [Y/N] spoke into her phone before letting out a soft cough, her throat sore and itchy. She heard a long sigh from the other end of the line and rolled her eyes.

“Tom, this isn’t the first time I’m sick. So what, I caught a cold a three days ago, it’s not the end of the world” she couldn’t see the actor’s frown increasing on his face as he listened to her weak voice explaining her situation.

Hours before, the assistant had been tossing and turning in her bed for quite a while, her body not being at peace because it longed to be held again by Tom. She couldn’t stop thinking about the dinner, how intense his stares has been and how he suddenly seemed so interested in her. [Y/N] was staring at the dark ceiling of her room and shook her head in contentment, having a feeling that something special would happen to her very soon.

He felt bad because he technically had been the reason his assistant had gotten sick in the first place; After their celebration dinner, Tom had ended up not being able to fall asleep, so he had called [Y/N] over and they ended up stargazing in his backyard, barely speaking a word with each other. They just sat next to each other, shoulders and arms touching and looked up the beautiful sky with a faint smile ghosting on their lips.

By the time [Y/N] had returned home, she was a coughing and sneezing mess and thus resulted in her having to take a week off because she had caught a nasty cold. She was on her 4th day off and pretty much enjoyed not having to do much physical activity besides feeding herself and taking her medication on time.

“Tom? Are you still there?” the assistant asked, wondering why he was being so silent. The actor cleared his throat and felt his stomach churn in discomfort, the intense need to take care of [Y/N] making it hard for him to focus on anything else. He couldn’t have a good day while knowing that she was in poor health and discomfort, he wished that he could heal her with a simple hug but that was obviously impossible.

Her thoughts had been interrupted by Tom calling her, nervously asking her if his call wasn’t a disturbance because the world was fast asleep. [Y/N] gently told him that she hadn’t been able to sleep either before happily accepting his invitation to stargaze in his backyard as he had one of the best views.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here…Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. Anything. I-need you-I mean we need you strong and healthy again” Tom added a quick fake cough at the end as he had realized that he was starting to slip, he had been thinking about his assistant a lot the past few days and had found himself calling and texting her more than usual, she reciprocated to his mood and energy though. So he knew that he wasn’t bothering her at all.

Her stomach was fluttering in delight and she couldn’t help but smile and stare into space. Something is happening, Tom has been very attentive and kinda needy of my presence the last few days…Maybe he’s starting to feel the same way…Or maybe he’s going through something and is gathering the courage to finally share it with me…

“I’ll be fineeeeee, just don’t forget to tell me who your costars will be on the play. Bye” and with that, [Y/N] quickly hung up the phone before releasing the breath she didn’t know she was holding in. She had heard the slip up and forced herself to not read too much in between the lines.

“Anyhow” [Y/N] muttered to herself while getting comfortable under the warm sheets of her bed. She still had three days of peace and quiet and was enjoying them by getting as much sleep as possible and catching up with her reading list. Today she would’ve had a busy day ahead; Tom had 2 talk shows appearances.

She thankfully already had helped him arrange his wardrobe for the appearances through her phone and laptop, the stylist only had to come by and deliver the suits, which would be in an hour, but [Y/N] already had strictly (but kindly) instructed her to do her job and make sure that everything was alright with the clothes.

Tom had gotten a fresh trim the morning and had decided to let his long curls stay the way they were (because [Y/N] had voiced a nice compliment about the way it looked so the actor silently decided to grow it out a little more).

His driver was also on his way as he preferred to be driven to public events. Tom’s fans were known for blocking entries and streets once they’d know he’d be present somewhere. He loved his fans to death, but he knew that driving himself through a sea of frantic people (with his already bad eyesight) could cause a serious accident.

Everything that had to be done, was done. So, [Y/N] was able to relax and focus on getting her health back on track.

She took one final glance at her phone before locking the screen and placing it on her nightstand, feeling tired and sore. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep, with her special someone lingering in her mind…

“What are you doing here?” [Y/N] wondered in confusion upon seeing Tom welcome himself into her home, his jacket already removed along with the shoes. He then made his way over to the couch where she comfortably seated, her phone in her hand and looking through her mails. She silently was thankfully for the shower she had taken thirty minutes ago because she looked like her normal self and also smelled good.

“I am here to keep you company on your final days off as I know that you have missed my presence oh so much” the actor added a dramatic sigh while sitting next to his assistant and appreciating her beauty from up close. “Of course did I miss you, I can’t stand to be parted from you for so long, oh my dear Thomas” she reciprocated his dramatic and sarcastic tone, although she was being completely honest.

Three days later

“Then we shall enjoy each other’s company before the hectic and busy world seeks our attention again, M’lady” the actor spoke with a chuckle, the bright smile on his face still very much present. He was wearing a simple pair of blue pants and his famous dark blue sweater, he looked as scrumptious as always.

[Y/N] had to swallow hard as she forced her eyes to not scan him from head to toe, it would make it obvious that she was attracted to him, emotionally and physically. These next few hours certainly would be trick and tempting…

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Tom suggested, placed his arm around her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze for no reason at all (Well…we all know the reason, don’t we?). “Sure, you can pick one out!” [Y/N] spoke with excitement, euphoria pumping through her blood as she now knew that she was addicted to his touch. No one had ever made her feel so comfortable. She was a confident woman but to feel this extra layer of security and comfort just soothed her soul on the daily.

“We can watch whatever you want, darling” Tom mumbled, feeling a rush of contentment himself from purely having her this close to him. [Y/N] took the remote in her hand and opened the Netflix app, she looked through her daily suggestions and the top ten of most popular movies that were currently trending. Tom’s soft fingers were playing with the material of her shirt, reaching the hem of her sleeve and then smoothly drawing random patterns on her soft skin.

“How about Spirited Away? It’s been years since I’ve seen that masterpiece!” [Y/N] happily suggested, “Plus the movie also shows how love can be so strong, even when the two people barely acknowledge or talk about it. It’s all about the actions”. Hearing the short description had the actor instantly curious and so he agreed to watch it, despite never having seen it himself.

Both relaxed against the couch (yes, Tom’s arm still around [Y/N]’s shoulder, now having moved even closer so that their bodies were in constant contact), before the movie was playing on the screen. [Y/N] randomly explained certain scenes that had the actor a little bit confused and once he’d understand the reference or meaning behind it, he couldn’t help but lean in and whisper his thanks into her ear. To say that the tension was thick, sizzling yet light and delicate was an understatement.

[Y/N] slowly opened her eyes, letting out a tired sigh while slowly acknowledging the conscious world again. “Mhm” she mumbled, realizing that she had fallen asleep sometime during the movie. She was about to sit up straight when a strong, but gentle grip around her thick waist pulled her back.

Fuck.

She turned her head to look behind her and saw Tom sleeping peacefully, having lied down behind her at some point. He grumbled softly in his slumber before pulling her warm body closer to him again. [Y/N] felt like she was about to have a heart attack. But she still slowly repositioned herself in her previous position and stared at the TV screen.

She knew that they had overstepped a heavy boundary of their professional relationship. But did she feel bad? Nope. She felt so at ease, it was like his arms were made just for her. The current moment was one she had often dreamed about and to actually have the privilege to experience it was just indescribable.

“[Y/N]….” Tom whispered in his sleep, his voice low and rich with smoothness. He was literally trying to pull her into his body, his hands gently squeezing one of her stomach rolls. She felt his toned chest against her back along with the body heat he was radiating onto her, his head now nuzzling in the crook of her neck. When his soft breaths tickled her sensitive skin, [Y/N] thought that she was about to burst into flames. The acts were so intimate yet tender, everything she had always assumed about him now being true.

Tom Hiddleston was a clingy sleep cuddler.

“Fuck” she whispered again when he let out a content sigh, already having tears brim her eyes as this all felt like dream. The man she had been loving for three years now was finally reciprocating her love.

[Y/N] closed her eyes and enjoyed the amazing feeling of pure love and joy, she even reached her arm out and gently ran her hand through Tom’s soft curls and sighed in pure delight herself. She wished that she could stay like this forever, just the two of them.

“[Y/N]?”

Her eyes fluttered open and she (again) took acknowledgment of her surroundings. She still was lying on her couch, But Tom was now sitting next to her, along with two bags of takeout resting on her coffee table.

“Mhm? I’m awake” [Y/N] mumbled once her brain recognized the sound of Tom’s soft voice calling out for her.

“Are you hungry? I ordered Thai as it’s almost six in the evening and you haven’t eaten anything yet” his gaze was soft and kind. The assistant nodded her head and slowly sat up, silently comprehending that Tom had woken up after she had fallen back asleep again. She felt a pang of disappointment churn in her stomach once she also realized that he was pretending like nothing had happened.

“Thanks Tom, I must have fallen asleep. My bad”

But she also understood and accepted why.

“Nothing to be sorry about, I fell asleep myself and actually had a great rest. The past few days had been very stressful, and I had really needed an afternoon of peace and quiet. So thanks again, [Y/N], for letting me enjoy your company”.

Tom’s appreciation speech actually mended the disappointment she felt, she hadn’t known about the few sorrows and stressed he had had because he hadn’t voiced them to her at all, despite having texted and called her plenty of times throughout the day.

Wow…

“You’re welcome, Tom” was all she was able to respond before reaching for the takeout bags and looking at what deliciousness were awaiting her. She ignored his piercing stare, not knowing why she suddenly was the sole focus of his attention. It was hard doing so because she felt like his eyes were burning holes on the side of her face.

“You’re very beautiful, [Y/N].

She turned to him, a bright smile creeping upon her face as her heart skipped a beat. “Thank you Tom, you are handsome yourself”. He chuckled and finally looked down at his lap, a slight crimson shade appearing on his cheeks as he felt flustered and appreciated.

[Y/N] handed him the second bag of food before removing the items in her own bag.

“That’s amazing! Do you want me to book a table at your usual restaurant?” [Y/N] asked while feeling happy for Tom’s friends, she knew that he’d have a blast with the play and that sole thought left her smiling to herself while the actor continued to share the details of the upcoming play to her, still sitting very close to her and barely being able to keep her eyes off her beautiful face.

“By the way, I have great news”, [Y/N] hummed as in indication that she was listening while continuing to unpack her food. “Charlie and Zawe have been casted as the other two main characters in the play! We’ll be all going to dinner tomorrow!”

-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston x plus size reader #plus size reader

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