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tw1l1te · 2 months

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The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 8

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: depression, angst, mentions of mental health, some fluff

₊˚✩⊹

Sky tucks you in, placing another small cushion under your head to take a bit of pressure from your back, but it doesn’t relieve much pain.

“Need anything?” he asks, cradling your hands in his, so gently as if he was scared of hurting you more. You shake your head.

“Stay?” you ask.

He nods, a small smile on his face. He makes his way to the other side of the bed, slipping off his boots that he put on earlier. He wasn’t exactly dressed for the day when he experienced all of the commotion, so he was already in his sleeping tunic and pants.

Slipping under the covers, he faces you, examining your features for any possible open wounds or signs of discomfort.

“I can hear you panicking over me, Sky. I’m fine. Sore, but fine.” you say, glancing at him.

“Sorry.”

“You’re all good. Just don’t want you to be in even more stress, hell knows we don’t need more of it.”

You were both silent for a while. The only sounds being the occasional grunt from you or shuffling in the covers.

“What’s home like for you?” Sky asks.

Well that came out of the blue.

“What do you mean? Like in general or my life?”

He props himself up on his elbow, like Twilight did last night, but you shoo the the thought away quickly, not wanting to think about making out with your traveling partner.

“I guess more so your life. What’s it like, at least most recently?”

You think for a moment.

“Well, I go to school, college as they call it. I live in an apartment with my roommate with a dog and a cat, god knows how they even stand each other. I work at a bakery when I’m not in school, which is ran by my aunt. She’s kind of the only family I have, other than my pets, I guess.”

You smile before continuing, “Its nice back home, I miss it. Despite my past… i’m doing pretty ok right now. I hope to introduce you guys to my life someday, if its possible.”

Sky smiles at that, “That’d be nice. I’d love to meet your aunt, she sounds kind.”

Another beat of silence.

“What about your parents?”

Sky notices your wince at the question, “Sorr-”

“It’s fine. They’re not around anymore. Weren’t the best towards me. That’s all.” you mumble, wanting to change the subject.

He nods, but something is off about his demeanor. He seems… upset.

“Sky, hey, they’re not around anymore, they haven’t been since I was 15. It’s long in the past.”

He grasps your hands tighter, “But the fact that they treated you terribly, regardless of how long ago, is still horrible. You… didn’t deserve that. I wish I knew, so I could-”

“There’s literally no way you could’ve known, you could only barely hear me when I only played the game, much less hear me outside of it. Stop blaming yourself Sky, you carry so many burdens with you that shouldn’t be there in the first place.” your voice stern, but not because you were upset with him.

“It’s hard not to. I mean, I caused the curse to begin in the first place, consequently placing the burden on everyone else. In a way, it… is my fault.”

“You were young, Sky. You didn’t know, or ask for it. You can blame yourself as much as you want, but I saw what happened, and it wasn’t your fault.”

You both stayed silent for a while, processing.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for telling the truth, Link.”

When evening rolls around the others wonder where Sky is, prompting a few of the members to come upstairs, anticipating the worst.

They find you asleep on Sky’s chest, hands grasping each other.

“Ok, what animal do you think you’d be? I’d be a big ass shark!” Wind exclaims.

“Language.” Wind just rolls his eyes.

“I think I’d be a fox: sly and cunning.” Wars states.

“More like flirty and you hiss.” Twilight mumbles, earning a choked giggle from you.

“Says you! You’d probably be a mountain goat!” he exclaims, hand on his chest dramatically.

“You’re actually not far off, an Ordonian goat.” he says, smiling.

“Oh, shut up, cowboy.”

“Hmmm… I think I’d be a swallow or maybe a sparrow.” Sky mumbles, deep in thought.

“Suits you, birdbrain.” Legend says, sarcasm lacing his tone, Sky just shoots him a bored stare.

You roll your eyes, turning to Time, “How ‘bout you, Old man? Any ideas?”

He sighs, “Maybe a wolf, protective of family and travel in packs. Loyal and cautious.”

You raise your eyebrow at him, turning to Twilight with a smile. He shrugs back at you.

What a coincidence.

You turn to Legend with a teasing smile, “You’re definitely a rabbit. All bark, no bite.”

Legend guffaws at you, “H-How did you- why I’m offended Y/n! Really supportive of you, Mouse.”

You just laugh loudly, but it quickly follows with a sharp pain from your back, causing you to hiss with pain. The group around you gets silent, anticipating.

“Ah, ouch! Fucking ow- guys I’m fine, just laughed a bit too hard. Anyways, Wild? How about you?” you ask.

His expression still worried, he hesitates before answering “I-uh, I don’t really know. Never really thought about it.”

Hyrule pipes up, “I don’t know about you guys, but I feel like I’d be a goat. Not Ordonian, maybe more like the ones we saw in Hateno Village.”

Hums of agreement go around the group.

“Personally, I’m with Sky on the Sparrow. Probably because I’m part Minish.” Four says, crossing his arms while leaning back. He looks at you, “And, Y/n? What about you?”

All eyes were on you, anticipating your answer.

Just as you were about to answer, Legend beats you to it “Easy, a mouse. Ain’t that right, Mousey?”

You squeak in surprise, face bright red.

Legend just hums in satisfaction, leaning against the wall, “Told you, a squeaker.”

You just look at him, eyes wide. He just gazes at you, eyeing you like a predator.

The silence was unbearable. If you weren’t covered in wounds and bruises, you would’ve sprinted out of the room. The awkwardness tension was suffocating.

“Are you guys done drooling?” Four asked.

The next minute all you can hear was yells directed at Four and Wind dying of laughter on the floor.

The next couple days were agonizingly slow. All you did was lay in bed, change your bandages, or talk to the group and occasionally Malon. You felt so guilty for everything that had transpired the past few days for her, apologizing profusely every moment you were with her. She didn’t want to hear any of it.

By the end of the fourth day, you were finally able to stand up and walk downstairs, granted you were leaning on Wars the entire way down, almost falling face first halfway down.

“Look! Mouse is up!” Wind exclaimed, running to you and hugging your unoccupied arm to not put pressure onto your back.

“Seems like I have a new nickname, huh?” you chuckled, ruffling his sandy hair.

“How are you faring, Y/n?” Time asked, arms propped on the dining table. He looked tired.

You gave him a small smile, “Better, still really sore, but couldn’t be in that bed any longer, my ass was deflating.”

Legend coughs, “Can’t be flatter than Cap’s.” earning him a smack on the head from Sky.

You rolled your eyes for the millionth time, “Anyways… How has everyone been lately? I know things have been pretty shaken up around here the past few days.”

“Before ya go on apologizin’ and all, don’t. We don’t know who did that to you or if not someone, what did that to you.” Twilight said, voice stern.

You nodded, accepting his statement.

“But besides that, we’ve been alright. Mostly doin’ work around the ranch for Malon. She’s out in Castle Town right now.”

Time stands up from the chair, looking at you “Which is why now is a good time to talk about our next steps.”

Everyone sits down around the table, Wars helping you sit down without hitting your back in the process.

“We’ve been here for a little under a week and so far there’s been no news or updates on either the Shadow’s army or Y/n’s passageway home. Although the serenity for once is nice, it feels too serene. Too ideal. I want to say something is going on behind the scenes, but I don’t have any proof to show for that.”

Wars nods along before joining in, “I too have felt that way. It’s unlike for the Shadow to leave us like this for almost a week. It feels too convenient for us, especially since Y/n’s incident. Do you think he hurt Y/n to distract us?”

Time thought for a moment, eyes focused on the vase on the table.

“No. No, I don’t think it was to distract us, or not in the way you’re thinking. From what I’ve noticed from our battles with him, he needs to regenerate health over time to get back to his full potential again. He isn’t invincible, but he seems like it when we encounter him because he’s had time to heal.”

Legend sits up.

“So why don’t we ever track him down whenever he’s healing and finish him off? We could’ve been done with this bullshit so much sooner!!”

Four shoots him a look, Legend just quietly seethes in his chair.

“Pardon my language, but it’s practically impossible to track that fucker down. From what we’ve seen with the portals, he disappears through them, and we don’t have a way of summoning portals or knowing when or where they went.”

You nod along, things were starting to click together.

“All I’m gonna say is that the Shadow is definitely not who I encountered in my vision, dream, or whatever the fuck it was. I thought that’s who it was, but…. It’s very unlikely that it’s him.”

Time looks around the group, “Right, well, there’s not much we can do right now. My guess is that a portal may show up somewhere around here in the next few days to a week, so we should always be ready to leave. You never know when it’ll open back up, even in the middle of the night.”

You groan, “Why do I have a feeling that’s what’s gonna happen.”

You look at Twilight, “Twi if we have to leave at two in the morning, you’re carrying me.”

He raises an amused eyebrow at you, “Is tha’ right? You the boss all of a sudden?”

You smirk. “I’m the only woman in the group, so yeah. Plus… you wouldn’t wanna upset me during shark week, would ya?”

Twilight’s smile dropped, ears flushed. Everyone just stares at you, wide-eyed.

Wind high-fives you. You had them wrapped right around your finger.

The chain and you were currently sitting on the couch and floor, just talking and laughing over jokes while Wild and Sky cooked in the kitchen. You sat in the corner of the couch, a pillow propped up behind your back and a blanket wrapped around your form. You were half listening to the boys’ conversation when the topic of birthdays came up.

“When’s your birthday, Y/n?” You snap back into the conversation.

“God, I haven't thought about my birthday in ages! I have probably missed one since being here. My birthday is in the late winter, though our idea of seasons and months are different from Hyrule's, so I can’t pinpoint the day,” you smile sadly.

“So you’re… 19? 20?” Hyrule asks, counting in his head.

“I think I’m 19 right now, but I’ll be 20 soon.”

Wind jumps up, “We’ve gotta celebrate! Birthdays are like the best time of year! Other than the Winter and Summer festivals.”

You look at Time, “Yeah, maybe when things settle down a bit. To be honest I don’t even know what to do or how to celebrate my birthday here.”

“We could always celebrate it during one of the upcoming festivals. It'll be easier to plan and there’s plenty to do.” Time offers, looking around for responses. Everyone agrees, already discussing what they think would be fun for you.

“Dinner’s ready!” Wild shouts out, ending the conversation and starting a new one. Twilight holds your arm to walk you to the table, your legs still shaky from the lack of physical activity the past few days. He sits you first, then slides into the chair to the right of you. You feel his hand slide into yours, giving it a small squeeze.

Legend follows you up, arm under your armpit in case you lose your balance. It was his turn for watch over you, the routine being almost natural at this point.

“Easy, Mouse. We don’t want you opening up those wounds again.” he mumbles, checking over your back. Satisfied with the lack of blood, you both continue back to your room, him shutting the door behind him. It must have been past midnight, as you could feel your tiredness approaching you.

You climb into bed, too lazy to change into comfier clothes, as that could risk reopening the stitches again. Wincing, it takes you a few minutes to find a painless position, as you can’t fully lay on your back.

Once you’ve settled, you notice Legend is still standing by the door, watching you.

“You… do know you can sleep with me right? You don’t have to stand there watching me.”

He seems to snap out of it, shaking his head slightly.

“Right, uh, sure. Need anything before I turn the lights out?”

You shake your head, patting the empty space beside you.

He sits on top of the covers, fully clad in his tunic and robes, even in his pegasus boots. He was staring at the wall across from you both, seemingly deep in thought.

“Rupee for your thoughts?” you ask, it has taken you a while to switch up the terminology from “penny” to “Rupee”. The first time you said the phrase, it took a lot of explaining on your part.

Legend seems to take a breath to speak, but instead stays quiet. Almost as if someone told him to not talk.

You inch toward his hand with yours, lightly holding it. It was ice cold.

“You do know I’m here for you, right? Whatever it is, I’m here for you Leg.” you murmur, not wanting to trigger anything for him.

“Forget it, I’m fine. Just rest, Y/n.” he rasps, eyes still not meeting yours. This was unlike him. You’d like to think you’ve both grown to trust each other over the past year or so, so you weren’t sure as to why he’s being close off and snarky about it.

“Leg, are you sure-” “Leave it, Y/n.” he grunts, his entire body goes tense, you pulling your hand back towards yourself. You could feel your eyes burn, so you lay down and lie on your side, facing away from him. Your tears silently spilled from your waterline until you fell asleep.

The next time you were woken up, Wild was shaking you by your arm, “Y/n wake up. Portal at the edge of the farm. Start getting ready and someone will be up in a few to help you pack up.”

He quickly jogged out, leaving the door open. You could hear Malon talking to someone. When’d she get back?

Eyes bleary, you noticed that the spot where Legend was sitting was empty, covers not even pulled down. Seems like he left the first chance he’d gotten.

Wincing a bit, you hobble out of bed, heading over to where your pack lay on the dresser. You managed to pull on your tunic over your long sleeve shirt. Your pants were on just as Wars came into the room, looking disheveled for the first time in your time with them.

“Make sure you put your harness on, we might be dropped into battle.” he rambles, eyes flicking over the room, making sure you didn’t leave anything.

You were too tired to talk, silently tying your pack up and slinging it over your shoulder. Wars helped you adjust the chest harness, being careful to not squeeze your back too much.

“Ready?” you nod, “Alright, let's start heading out, it’s almost dawn.”

“Wars? Are you ok?” he seemed off, he was always composed, strictly business you once joked. But now was no laughing matter. You were worried for him. All of them.

He just smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Just tired, Y/n.”

He rarely used your name except if he was being serious or if he was worried.

Before you could keep pestering him, he pulled you along the hallway and down the stairs, helping you down the stairs like he usually did. Everyone was already awake, packing last minute and putting on clothes and armor.

Twilight looks up from his boots, fastening the buckles around the calf.

“There ya are, was worried ya were still asleep. All ready?” he walks up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. You nod, yawning. He chuckled, giving you a small kiss on the crown of your forehead, “Don’t worry, pumpkin, we’ll make up for yer lost sleeping hours as soon as we can, ok?” You were too tired to react to the physical affection, just nodding into his chest.

You could feel Legend’s eyes on you, but you couldn’t deal with him right now. Avoidance was definitely not the best thing to do right now, but everyone was on a time limit to get to that portal.

Malon walks up to you, “Before you say anythin’, I’m gonna miss you too and stop apologizin’.” You chuckle, “You know me too well, Mal. I’m sorry we have to go so soon. I’ll miss you.” She smiles sadly. She brings you into a warm hug, mumbling into your ear “Just be safe, Y/n. I know how dangerous it is travelin’ with ‘em. I fully trust Link, I just don’t want you to be reckless and get hurt. Look after him for me?” she asks, voice slightly cracking.

“Of course Mal. Anything for you.”

“You’re too kind for this cruel world Y/n. I hope you come back soon, under better circumstances perhaps.”

“I’ll be back before you know it. Ok?”

She lets you go, talking to Time about being careful and giving him the whole talk on “don’t be too hard on them, be careful”, the usual. Once that was done, Malon waves you all off, you walking through the field towards the portal. It was dark and imposing, standing amongst the fauna and flora of Lon Lon Ranch. You walked with Twilight, firmly grasping his arm.

You both walk in, hand in hand, the others following behind you through the murky purple abyss.

₊˚✩⊹

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe au #yandere lu

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slayonehundredninetytwo · 7 months

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seatbelt

request: Hello, I’ve got another idea for a request! So I had this stomach ache during my soccer game and I decided to sit off the last 45 minutes because I knew from experience it would get worse if I continued to run around—so I was thinking: what if Felix (changed to Jisung) had a stomach ache during vocal recording for one of their songs and he sat in the same spot the entire time, refusing to get up unless called into the booth and not really talking to anyone because the pain was too great. Then they all head back home and it’s still bothering him. In the car he can feel it getting worse, and the pressure with the seatbelt around his stomach isn’t helping, so he tugs it looser and holds it slightly away from his midsection. Maybe one of the members, could be Changbin, notice it and question him, to which he denies how he truly feels. They’re nearly at the first dorm when he can’t hold it anymore—the pain has grown so much during the ride that he was battling naseau—and he throws up right as the van pulls into their street. You can choose how to end it and who acts as the caregiver when he finally gets sick. ❤️

Here they are again, recording a new track for a new album. Of course they were all excited! And of course, that includes Jisung. Being on the producing line, it was something they looked forward to throughout the whole production process, it really brings their ideas to life. But he was struggling to really enjoy it, as a dull ache resided in his stomach, and he struggled to keep his focus. The headphones he wore to hear the singing from inside the booth were squeezing his ears and giving him a headache. His stomach hurt way worse in comparison though. Normally, he would be contributing to the recording and directing the singer in the booth, but today, he sat quietly in his chair, only really contributing when asher for his opinion. Even then, his responses were along the lines of “That’s good.” or “Smoothen it out a bit.”, simple answers that didn’t require much thought.

Chan didn’t notice his friend’s condition. He was in the zone. Changbin however noticed it fairly quickly. Usually Han would be spinning on his spiny chair or moving around somehow as they worked, today, he stayed perfectly still in his chair. Changbin looked at Han, seeing his tired face did not have its usual color, now looking eerily pale.

Changbin quietly pointed at the boy before doing 👌 in order to silently ask “You okay?”

Jisung gave a little head nod, although Changbin was not quite convinced.

Finally, it was time to head home. Jisung couldn’t wait to go home and sleep off whatever was bothering him. He sat down in the car, quickly buckling his seatbelt, eager to return home. As the car took off, he felt so uncomfy in his seat. His seatbelt dug into his stomach, squeezing the already upset organ. The pressure and the movement along the bumpy road were definitely not helping his discomfort.

Changbin had been keeping close watch on the boy, and noticed the way Han tugged at his seatbelt to release pressure on his stomach. He leaned over to Jisung and whispered,

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m okay. A little tired I guess.” he was lying straight through his teeth, and Changbin could tell.

“Okay. Why don’t you lean your head on my shoulder for a bit. We’re almost home.”

hoping to atleast provide some comfort. Han gratefully complied, but couldn’t fall asleep because of the cramping in his stomach and the nausea. But it was still nice.

Even as his eyes were closed, he knew they were about home because they had been turning a lot. Before they reach their dorms, there’s like a million right and left turns, which only added to the nausea. Changbin watch as the color drained from his dongsaengs face as they were just about to pull in. The boy jerked his head up off of Changbin’s shoulder to hopefully avoid getting vomit all over his friend, but was a tad too late, splashing a guppy of vomit on his hyungs lap. He started to cry out of guilt, pain, and definitely from the fever, each sob just made him sicker.

“Hannie, it’s okay, let’s just get you out of the car, alright?”

“O-okay- huUUurk” He retch, splashing out more hot liquid onto the floor.

“Shit.”

The rest of the group tried to make themselves as little as possible so Han could squeeze past them. He made it out of the car with no more mess, but the second he got out of the car, the flood gates were opened- no- RIPPED OFF and the puke flowed out of him like a fountain. It was atrocious. Even the members who weren’t quite as squeamish had to avert their eyes from the grossness in order to not loose their own stomachs.

Once his stomach had completely emptied itself, he shakily sat down on the curb, still crying.

“It’s really okay Ji. Are you ready to go inside.” Changbin said.

He gave a head nod as Chan and Changbin helped him into their dorm, sitting him down on the couch. The couch was already set up with pillows, blankets, and a bucket, courtesy of Hyunjin who had already headed inside to avoid the atrocities that were happening outside, since he had a sensitive stomach and couldn’t handle that. HE gave a gentle smile as he handed Han a bottle of water and some pills.

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to get the pills down quite yet, but atleast drink some water.”

Jisung didn’t know if he could stomach even the water, but his throat was destroyed and he knew it could help.

“Thankyou.”

“No problem. I just want you to feel better.”

sorry this took a million years, i worked on it diligently whenever i could but i’m a busy gal what can i say

🫶

#skz sickfic #stray kids sickfic #skz emeto #kpop sickfic #chitchat192

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hexpea · 2 years

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Ch. 17 - Just a Wound

When it came time to complete your assignment, you found the car ride to the location to be the worst of it. The entire drive was filled with dreaded silence. The tense atmosphere made it even worse, as if the two of you wanted to talk but figured the other wouldn't want to reconcile - which wasn't necessarily untrue as stubborn as you both were.

The first words you exchanged occurred as soon as the car pulled up beside the hospital, a hospital cleared out for patient safety all thanks to the special grade you were called to eradicate.

"Stay in the car," Geto muttered and immediately exited, giving you little to no time to react.

"Suguru!" You angrily called after him, struggling to get out of your seatbelt.

You chased after him, but were too late. He gave you quite the glare as he held up his fingers, the veil he cast closing behind him before you could join.

"No!" You pounded against its impenetrable surface. "Goddammit, Suguru!"

In defeat, you leaned against the veil and slid down its side until you plopped on the ground. You sighed to yourself and meditated, hoping Suguru would be alright on his own. After all, the two of you were assigned together for a reason.

"How's it goin'?" Your phone buzzed from Gojo's sudden text.

"Not so great," you answered back, fingers blazing with the need to vent but holding back. "I guess you're done with your assignment already?"

"Yep!" He answered. "And since you answered I can only assume you're on the way there? Suguru still being mean?"

"You're half right," you rolled your eyes to yourself, "he veiled himself in so I can't participate."

"I'm going to need to have a talk with him lol!" You could almost hear Gojo's enthusiastic voice.

Just as you were about to write back, the veil behind you began to dissipate. You scrambled to your feet as soon as possible and turned around to find the aftermath. Geto caught your eye immediately. He was on the ground, clutching his side with one hand and had his other hand outstretched away from you as he took in the curse, it's body transforming into a bronze-colored sphere. From beneath his clutched hand, blood pooled onto the sidewalk below.

"Suguru!" You shouted and ran to his side. Kneeling down, you helped him apply pressure to his wound to which he winced and turned his head away from you. With your other hand, you took out your phone and began to call Gojo. "Hey," you answered as soon as he picked up, "are you on-campus right now? Can you get Ieiri and bring her here? Suguru's...he's bleeding from his side...everywhere."

Within a split second, Gojo had Ieiri ported to your location. She had a small pouch with her, likely to tend to his wounds seeing as her technique could only do so much.

"This is what you get for being reckless," Ieiri scolded in a monotone voice while blowing smoke from a cigarette drag. She then bent over and shooed your hand away.

You stayed knelt by Geto's side, your dirtied hand keeping yourself up while the other was placed gently on his shoulder for comfort. Ieiri stitched away to close the wound, Geto clearly in discomfort despite the pain reliever she had injected.

"What the hell were you thinking, Sugu?" Gojo tsked with his arms crossed. Geto gave his friend an angry look without a verbal answer.

"I second that," you grumbled, to which Geto met you with the same stare. His look toward you, though, quickly softened.

Meanwhile, Ieiri placed her hands against Geto's now stitched up side - repairing what she could with her technique. It took quite a bit of energy to do so, so when she used her technique you knew it was a dire situation.

"You'll be able to heal on your own from here," Ieiri pulled away. "Satoru, can you take all of us back?"

"Sure," he shrugged. He then turned to wave your driver on. "Let's go!"

Thanks to Gojo's abilities, the four of you found yourselves back on campus in the blink of an eye. While Ieiri went her separate way, you and Gojo assisted Geto back into his room.

"Alright," Gojo sighed as soon as Geto took a careful seat on his bed, "I've got a certain interview to go to. Y/N, you can look after him, right?"

"Interview?" You nearly snorted. "For what, might I ask?"

"Well, there's an opening for a first year teacher," he gave a gentle blush and rubbed the back of his head. "I'd like a change of pace. We're not going to be around forever, so raising up the next generation's important."

"So cryptic," you muttered, "I just graduated last year, you know."

"I meant more like me and Suguru," Gojo corrected. "This generation got lucky with us-,"

"Wow, cocky, nice trait," you teased with a warm smile, interrupting his sentence. "I got it, good luck."

"Alright," Gojo chuckled, "I'll check in on you later." He then disappeared without a trace.

"Now then," you turned to Geto with Gojo gone, "Ieiri told us to dress your wound when we got in, so...I guess we should do that." Without his reply, you meandered about his apartment to the bathroom.

You searched every one of his drawers for the supplies, and, of course, the last one you checked was the one that contained the things you needed. You returned to Geto's side and silently motioned him to pick up his shirt. Without words of his own, he did so without question - opting for taking the entire thing off for ease of access.

You began by disinfecting his stitches. Despite the injury just happening barely a moment ago, the stitches looked relatively calm thanks to Ieiri's help. He still winced at the cold, stinging sensation as you applied the salve. From there, you steadily began wrapping gauze around his waist - Geto having no other type of bandages in his medicine cabinet.

"This looks familiar," Geto muttered while leaning back on his hands as you continued wrapping. His tone was a bit cold and distant, the two of you only having exchanged a few sentences since the night of your party.

"What are you talking about?" You asked with the same angry sounding tone Geto used.

"Don't you remember?" His tone softened. "You broke my ribs last year." You blushed immediately and paused your motions.

"No, I'd rather forget," you gave a small giggled and continued until you ran out of gauze.

"This time it's my fault," he sighed. "I should've brought you in to help. I'm not used to getting my ass kicked like that."

"Sure," you tried to keep your smile down, not wanting to stop being angry at him. "All set," you sat up straight again with Geto's wound completely taken care of.

"Cool," he mumbled and then reached into the pocket of his harem pants. He came to a stand and pulled out the small, bronze-colored ball that contained the curse. "At least I still managed to get it."

"At least there's that," you agreed and watched as he painfully swallowed the ball whole, a grotesque look on his face as soon as he got it down. "I guess I should-" you began to stand.

"Y/N," Geto stopped you, placing two fingers on your shoulders to guide you back down, "I've been meaning to...repay you."

You cocked your head out of confusion and curiosity. "Repay me?" You shook your head as you asked, squinting your eyes toward him out of suspicion. "For what? Wrapping your bandages?"

Geto's face remained unchanged, staying in a cool, calm, and collected expression. "Lay back."

#geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #suguru geto #getou suguru #suguru getou #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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star-anise · 3 years

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Putting the Great Corset Debate in context

TW: Body image, diet culture, calorie counts, fatphobia, coercive beauty standards

Gold star to @ryuutchi for guessing the gist of this post!

Historical costumers today are very big on defending corsets. Like a lot of other re-enactors, I know firsthand that corsets can be comfortable, practical garments that can be worn all day, every day, for years, through all kinds of strenuous activity.

Karolina Zebrowska has documented how much anti-corset sentiment was a product of misogyny; Bernadette Banner has talked about growing up in a medical brace more restrictive than a corset; I’ve used corsetry techniques to make garments to deal with my own chronic pain, and make chest binding less uncomfortable.

And yet. There’s an undeniable wealth of evidence that many women in days of old hated corsets. So how the heck do we reconcile these things?

Let’s talk about diets.

A diet is, in its simplest form, what you eat during your day. Or it’s a plan for what you’ll eat during your day. Diets can be hugely varied. The ideal diet for a performance athlete is often around 5000-7000 calories a day, which is the same amount of food that two to five ordinary people will eat in the same period of time. Some diets are very gentle and flexible, encouraging intuitive eating and listening to your own hunger cues much more than any chart. Victorian diets actually promised to fatten women, relieving their consumers from the hideous fate of skinniness.

And yet. And yet. For many people, especially women, “diet” is an enormously loaded word. It’s practically synonymous with restricting your food intake until you’re a little bit crazy, constantly criticizing the way you look, and tying your weight with your worthiness as a person.

That’s not how I generally experience diets, since I was never forced to diet, and never seriously dieted myself. But if I said, “Diets for women aren’t restrictive or oppressive!” I’d be quite frankly wrong, given how often they are--how much women face incredible pressure to be thin, how often girls are forced to diet during their childhoods and adolescences, how much fat women are penalized in completely unrelated areas, like salary and career progression, for their weight.

Diets don’t have to be restrictive or oppressive. But in our day, it is hard to untangle the concept from how coercive diets can be. For many people, “dieting” feels inextricable from being controlled.

Corsets fundamentally served the same function as dieting does now. It alters the body’s shape to appear more socially pleasing. It does so by different methods, but in the era when it was widespread, it carried a similar psychological weight.

This is how Laura Ingalls Wilder describes her experiences with corsets: Of being forced to wear them by her mother, being nagged by her mother to tighten her laces, having to listen to stories of how her mother, as a young bride, had a waist her husband could span with his hands--an ideal painful and impractical to reach under most circumstances, and a positive hindrance for a girl like Laura, who had to do heavy farm labour in that corset. In the Victorian era, uncorseted women were seen as everything from lazy and sloppy to sexually loose and morally inferior.

Modern movie actresses face the same pressure to look absolutely perfect. A lot of actresses complain about the corsets in their costumes for good reasons: Those corsets are made with only the sketchiest reference to the actress’s real measurements, engineered hugely for aesthetic effect, and worn for a very abrupt span of time without the lead-up of getting used to the corset (and letting the corset get used to you). I have no doubt that being shoved into a corset that changes your shape dramatically and being told, “Go on, get out there and act,” is an uncomfortable experience!

These days, historical re-enactors don’t face as much social pressure or censure for failing to corset tightly enough. A lot of us are wearing costumes in an increasing atmosphere of fat acceptance and health at every size. Those of us who make our own costumes can experience historical costume as the one area in our lives where our clothes are made purely to our own measure--we have all the control that’s denied us by mass-produced modern clothing sizes.

Here’s my contention: It’s not the corset, or the lack of corset, the diet, or lack of diet, that makes corsets or diets awful, painful, harmful, or oppressive. It is the social pressure to push your body past the point of discomfort or pain to achieve certain a social idea. Corsets are so liberating for historical re-enactors specifically because we get the profound freedom of deciding everything about what we wear and how we want to look.

If you have the complete freedom, if you want to wear a corset, to choose the corset that’s right for you, or even more, to have it made for you, corsets are amazing garments. Just like figuring out which foods are right for you, eating them, and feeling good because of it can be a great experience.

It’s achieving that freedom that’s the hard part.

#staranise original #costuming #feminist discourse #diet talk tw #weight talk tw

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chippedaxe · 3 years

Text

Mcyt hc's w/ virgin s/o

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Title: Mcyt hc's w/ virgin s/o

Warnings: NSFW after the SFW (Minors don't read that), mentions of pregnancy, rope bunny content, mentions of blood,

Pronouns: They/Them, non gender specific anatomy

Synopsis: The reader confesses that they are a virgin and this is how the mcyt's react.

Word count: 2.6k

Note: No one asked for this but I still wrote it. SFW is completely safe, it has none of the warnings mentioned above but it may have some suggestive content (no actual sexual content being written however)

* added cut for less clutter

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(SFW, kind of safe to read, has some suggestive-ish content but has no actual nsfw content)

c! Dream

- He is almost shocked to hear this kind of news but he's pretty respectful of it "you're a virgin? That's alright, this relationship isn't just about sex, I love you" Dream kissed your lips.

- He would talk with you about what you maybe wanted to do "Just talk to me when you feel ready. Do you understand sexual safety? Do you wanna have a talk about consent?" Dream asked you and you nodded, he was so caring of you <3

- "We don't have to rush into anything, we can wait if you want to, I love you" he reassures you.

c! Sapnap

- He doesn't really care, he doesn't realize how much it means to you until he sees you about to cry "oh oh oh no, I'm so sorry baby.. It's alright to be a virgin, I don't judge you" he caressed your face and peppered your nose with sweet kisses.

- He lays you on the bed and lies down next to you, you speak to each other about the topic and it makes you feel more comfortable and safe "I don't have to be the one to take your virginity, don't feel as if you have to give it to me.." Sapnap reassured you "I want you to take it, I love you" you told him.

- "I'd love to take your virginity for you then. Do you want to talk about the contraceptive methods now? Or- do you think you wanna talk about starting a family together..?" Sapnap blushed softly at the idea of having kids with you.

c! George

- He is taken back by your sudden confession "A virgin??" George blushes "That- That's okay!" George stumbles over his words slightly "I mean I'd love to take your virginity but we don't have to have that talk yet! if you don't wanna have it..." George pulled at his collar.

- You slowly curled up on his chest and you sighed "I'm not very experienced, I'm worried" you spoke up "you don't have to be worried! I- I can show you certain things, if that's what you want" George seemed nervous as he spoke.

- "what's wrong? you seem nervous.." you shrunk down slightly "sorry! it's just- the thought of taking your virginity is kind of making me feel some type of way!" George and you laughed it off "We can have a serious talk if you want! We can speak about condoms and stuff!" George smiled awkwardly as he was trying to slowly introduce you to this sexual topic.

c! Eret

- Eret was stunned as you had just sat him down and started talking to her about that "woah woah- we're having an important talk now? Okay, okay, just let me sit down!" Eret pulled you down next to them on the bed and you both sat together.

- "I'm a virgin" you confessed, Eret furrowed her eyebrows and gave you a small smile "aw, my baby, that's fine with me" he held onto your hands and gave them quick kisses "I want to talk about um.. possibly losing my virginity?" you felt nervous as you asked.

- "Oh of course! I'd love nothing more than to take my darling's virginity- but we don't need to rush that and you certainly don't have to feel as if you're being pressured to do this with me. You don't get another V card so use this one wisely and think on your decision, do you really want to do this with me?"

- "Of course I do, I love you so much.." You lean forward and kiss them.

c! Karl

- He spits out his food "huh?" he wasn't judging you, he was just unsure why you'd suddenly say that now while he's eating on the floor. He puts his food down and beckons you to join him on the ground "okay, talk with me" he offers.

- "I'm a virgin, I've never had sex before.." you were shy as you confessed to him "There's nothing wrong with that, why're you being so shy for?" Karl tried to lighten to mood slightly "shut up!" you smiled as he was teasing you for being shy.

- "I guess I'm kind of nervous because- well.. Do you.. Would you? Would you take my virginity? Please?" you closed your eyes as you were anxiously waiting for his response "REALLY? You wanna let me do that? I'd be honored! I'll make it the most memorable experience of your life!" Karl gives you a hug and returns to his food.

c! Punz

- He gives you a hug, he understands. "That's alright with me, doll, you let me know when you want me to take that virginity of yours" Punz kisses you on the cheek.

- "we can always just make out, you know I love every bit of you" Punz teases you lightly, his lips pressing against your neck "Down bad" you laughed at your little joke "Down bad? Me? Definitely, all for you" he kisses you again playfully.

- He might make little sexual jokes or sexual gestures but he never actually does anything to make you uncomfortable and he won't actually touch you until you give him some kind of consent, if he slaps you on the ass while you're not paying attention then he's gonna get a slap back on the butt "watch your hands!"

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(NSFW, not safe to read)

c! Dream

- Dream hovers over you, your fragile frame is right underneath him. You look so innocent, your eyes glance up to see his face, your eyes shine with such purity "I'm going inside now, tell me if its too much"

- He spreads your legs and slowly lines himself up with your hole, he bites his lip as he tries not to just shove it inside of you, he felt bad when he saw the pain you were experiencing when he was stretching you out.

- "I'm so sorry, my baby.. Do you want me to stop or to pull out?" Dream asked as he saw tears prick your eyes "I'll be fine, maybe just let me adjust to it a bit.." you lied there and tried to just relax so your muscles would loosen and let him into you more comfortably.

- You finally loosen up and that's when you let him move, your tight untouched walls are so tight against his cock, he looks at your face for any signs of discomfort but all he sees is the bliss in your eyes. You roll your head back onto the pillows and you whine in pleasure "What? Gonna cum already?" Dream teased.

- You had in fact came already. Dream kisses your temples before pulling out "but you didn't cum.." you whined "I didn't want to overwork your body, you're probably still very sensitive" Dream moved his hand down to rub your sore hole as a test and pulled away once he saw you squirm "Then let me show you what I learnt.." you got on your knees and pulled your hair out of the way, getting ready to blow him.

c! Sapnap

- Sapnap bent you over and was trying his best to go in slow, you choked on your cries when he started to stretch you open. Sapnap looked freaked out and nervous when he saw that you started to bleed "Shit- do I need to stop??" Sapnap asked you if you were doing okay.

- "It hurts..." you whined "I told you it would, is it getting too much for you?" Sapnap started to slowly pull out but you stopped him "wait a bit. please." he listened to you and stayed there with half of his cock inside of your hole.

- Your hole twitched around him and that's when he slowly gave a little thrust, you cried in pleasure and bit down on your lip "does it still hurt?" Sapnap asked you and rubbed your back softly "A little bit, it- it also feels good though!" you leaned up against the bed and arched your back into Sapnap.

- Sapnap couldn't control his orgasms when it came to your tight tight walls, he had hoped that you were getting close "gonna cum, baby?" he was hoping you'd say yes so you could both cum at the same time "y- yes!" you nodded, Sapnap sighed in relief and moved his hand down to grab at your hips and help you grind against him.

- You both came at the same time, your eyes rolling into the back of your head because of the pleasure.

c! George

- He has you sitting in his lap naked, "I'm as nervous as you are" George reminded you. "I need you to lower yourself down on my cock for me, okay? I don't wanna hurt you.." George requested, his hands guiding your hips.

- You straddled his cock and slowly started to push it inside, you let out a harsh cry as it was already hurting quite a bit "fuck! Fuck you Georgenotfound!" you cursed as it stung your tight hole "I'm so sorry baby, I wish I could take away the pain for you.." George rubbed your belly and gave your chest a few kisses so you could hopefully relax.

- You eventually bottomed out onto his cock, tears rolled down your cheeks and you let out a sigh of relief "That looked painful, you don't have to continue if it hurts.." George moved to get up but you pinned him back down "Let me do this" you told him. He laid back down and let you continue your pathetic actions.

- You started to grind on his cock gently, your legs were shaking from the pleasure and you had to dig your nails into George's shoulders to keep yourself up straight. George took pity on you and grabbed onto your hips, he started to guide you so that you could ride him properly and get yourself off. "Good Y/n, you're doing so well.." George groaned.

- You grabbed George and pulled him even closer to you, his chest was against yours and this was probably the closest you guys have ever been to each other. Your hands got tangled in his hair and you gave a loud yelp as you started to cum around his cock "Fuck!" George came just a few moments after you did.

c! Eret

- "Listen. I'll normally take control but I want you to do what you want just this one time, I don't want to hurt you by not knowing your body so I need you to just listen to what I say and do it yourself, okay?" Eret holds onto your torso and makes you look up at her.

- Their cock is poking at your entrance teasingly, you listen to his words and you slowly slide onto his cock. Her penis slides into you and you gasp "Look how well your body did, you feel so good around me, baby" Eret kissed your collar bone as she started to slowly grind against your hips.

- You tried to grind back onto him but failed "Please fuck me, take control, please.." Eret listened to your desperate pleas and flipped you over so they could gently pound into your tight hole. You were already feeling immense pleasure from her cock, your hole twitched and you felt embarrassed as you tried not to cum.

- "it's okay if you cum right now, you can always just jerk me off right after" Eret teased you and caressed your cheek as she jerked her hips into you one more time, you went over the edge and came hard on his penis "Fuck!" you cried out "That's a good pet.." Eret pulled out of you and kissed your lips.

- You then repaid your royal highness by sitting at the edge of the bed and worshipping their cock, your tongue lapping at the precum that was leaking from the tip. Your hands groped at his thighs and he groaned "You're learning so fast, baby"

c! Karl

- He's like a little puppy, he's so eager to please you and doesn't want you to get hurt "I stretched myself out so I don't think it'll hurt when you go in.." you admitted "really? I'll try to go in but if it hurts or makes you feel uncomfortable then just tell me to stop please" Karl kissed your cheek.

- He lined his cock up with your entrance and tried to slide in slowly but his whole cock just got swallowed in your hole "Ah! shit- I'm so sorry! Does that hurt? Do I need to exit??" Karl goes to pull out but then sees the blissed out expression on your face "This doesn't hurt you?"

- You practically beg him to start fucking you already, his hips buck against yours. His hands grope at the skin on your chest, his cock pulsing and twitching while inside of you "Sorry- I- I'm gonna cum soon, your tightness is just a bit much for me.." Karl groaned and let out a high moan when he fucked just the right place inside of you.

- You gasped and moaned, nodding you head and pleading for him to keep hitting you in that one spot "Yes yes yes!" you throw your head back and close your eyes "Karl! I love you Karl!" you moaned out his name, it sounded perfect the way that it just dripped from your lips.

- Karl hissed as he pulled out quickly and then shot a huge load onto your stomach, you looked down at your cum covered body and you furrowed your eyebrows "You're cleaning that up, Karl"

c! Punz - He'd normally be so rough with you, hands pulling at your hair and choking you until you're begging for him to let you cum but he couldn't do that right now. He had no choice but to calm down and be gentle for you.

- He had you tied up however, he couldn't let you think you had all the control. He opened your entrance up and slid inside, he was surprised on how smooth he just entered you, he looked at your face to look for signs of pain "wait! it- it feels weird!" he waited just a moment for you before giving an experimental thrust "Shit!" you gasped and squirmed in your bindings.

- "Is that squirming a sign of pain or pleasure?" Punz was unsure of your reaction "P- Pleasure! Keep going please!" you begged, Punz grabbed your thighs and used them to steady himself as he started to fuck into you a little faster. Your moans were loud and you felt as if you needed to scream, you moved your head around "Punzzz.." you slurred his name.

- "I'm gonna cum.. gonna scream your name.." you bit your lip and tried to stay quiet "Let them all hear you, let the smp know you belong to me, baby" Punz went even harder, his cock hitting against just the right places. You shuddered and screamed in pleasure as you came undone and came all over his cock "Punz!!"

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#mcyt x reader smut #mcyt headcanons #mcyt x reader #mcyt smut #dsmp x reader #dsmp smut #dream smut #dream smp x reader #dream smp smut

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wearywinchester · 3 years

Text

Hold On

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When you’re injured on a hunt with a shapeshifter, Dean’s there to make sure you’re okay.

Requested by Anonymous: “Come here, I’ll carry you”

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: injuries, mentions of blood, mild swearing, fluff, kissing

A groan.

That’s all you could manage as you tipped your head back and let it thud against the wall, eyes squeezing shut as another groan fell past your lips. You were nothing short of exhausted as you slumped against that wall, one that surely had the outline of your body indented in it from where you’d been thrown earlier. Just how early it’d been, you weren’t really sure about that part.

What you were sure of was the incessant burning across your knuckles and the pressure behind your cheekbone, knowing for certain there was a cut running along your skin there. You were increasingly aware of the way your knee had a dull throb to it, your ankle a million times worse. That familiar pressure radiated behind your eyes as the tears stung and burned, frustration having built up and nearly boiled over. Between the pain of your injuries and the embarrassment you felt for getting them, it was enough to have them rolling down your cheeks, hot on your skin.

It was a shifter. One that’d turned into your very own twin, adding to the strangeness of it all when it cornered you in a room by yourself, the room you currently sulked in with the inability to get very far.

The saying you are your own worst enemy had taken on a meaning you never quite thought of in that moment, one that had your brows furrowing and the anger simmering within you. You knew it’d used your looks to it’s advantage for the brothers you came with, for Dean. You were his sweet spot and it seemed as though every monster in the very world you lived in knew that very fact and took full advantage of the seemingly universal knowledge.

But that wasn’t important right now. What was important was the fact that you’d gotten separated from the pair and were reduced to a hobble should you want to get up and find your way to them. That would be simple if you knew where they were—you’d heard some yelling and a miscellaneous shot fired, but it wasn’t enough to pinpoint where your beau had been.

Your hands were trembling as you brought them up to your face, adrenaline still having its hold on you as you rub your hands down your face despite the jolt of pain making itself known when your hand ran over your cheek. You grit your teeth and curse under your breath at the sensation, fists balling in your momentary irritation before they relax once more.

All around you were heaps of broken glass from windows and cabinets, shards of snapped wood joining it on the floor and you were fairly certain you were sitting on more than a few of those pieces. The couch was overturned and it’s cushions splay around the room in places cushions shouldn’t be, the table split down the middle and sitting in a pile of rubble much like the rest of the room. The paintings and pictures on the walls were torn, the glass in some of the frames broken and from where you’d thrown them in self defense. Something that also took on a new meaning.

You were tired, fatigue weighing you down as your heart hammered in your chest and sweat coated your skin. You were tired and miserable and desperately wanted to call it a day. A bubble bath seemed like a dream to you in that moment, contrasting to the way you felt having currently been covered in dirt and blood and sweat and most freshly—tears.

Your jaw tenses as tightly as you could manage when you rolled to your side, palm pressed to the floor as you leaned on your good knee. It was no easy feat getting yourself up off that floor, the smallest bit of pressure upon your ankle nearly sending you over the edge as you stood to your feet with a tear rolling down your cheek. Balance was something you lacked in that moment, never something you had down to begin with but it paled in comparison to this as you caught yourself on the wall.

“I am never hunting again,” you grumble to yourself, huff leaving your lips though you knew it was a lie.

“Y/n?”

You gaze lifted to the owner of the voice, relief washing over you as he crossed the room in as little as three strides. “Dean? Please tell me it’s really you because I can’t do a round two with that thing.”

“I could ask you the same thing, sweetheart,” he says, brows furrowing as his hand comes up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over your skin as the tips of his fingers hover over the very curve of your ear.

You could see every emotion that expressed on his face, that filled his eyes as they bounced over every inch of your face at each and every scrape and scratch and bump and bruise. You could see the myriad of questions and arguments sitting on the tip of his tongue on how you should have been more careful, how he shouldn’t have let you leave his side this time. It wasn’t hard to see, even if he’d deny it till he was blue in the face if you’d said those very things you saw.

His eyes fall closed for a moment as the relief falls over him, his forehead pressing to yours as his jaw tenses. He feels the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach at the thought of what’d happened to you and at the very fact that he couldn’t do anything about it. Wasn’t there to help you. If he was, your hands wouldn’t be shaking so much and you wouldn’t have those tears in your eyes that pull at his heart every time he sees them. You wouldn’t be shifting on your feet as you try and stand on a messed up ankle and you wouldn’t have felt scared. You hadn’t said it but he knew you were.

You wouldn’t be hurt.

“You okay?” He asks instead, nose bumping yours softly in the close proximity.

“Take a wild guess, Winchester,” you said, lips quirking up in a soft smile.

He pulls back to look at you then, lips pursed as the crease between his brows deepens. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say, getting yourself an eye roll.

You muster up the strength to push past him, all hobbles with just an ounce of balance as your face twists in immediate discomfort. The groan you try to muffle doesn’t get past green eyes behind you, especially not the gasp you’re quick to inhale when that ever familiar searing pain burns up the length of your leg. It was beyond you how you thought you could play it off, but even then you still didn’t give up your efforts.

“Y/n,” he started, a warning tone in his voice mixed with exasperation.

“I’m fine, Dean. I got it,” you insist, though the half cry leaving your lips right after is less than helping your case.

“Would you quit it with the macho tough guy act?” He says and you’re quick to flash him a glare. His brows raise and he throws his hands up. He was right and he knew it. “Come here, I’ll carry you.”

“Are you crazy?” Your glare remains as your head tilts, his hands dropping to his sides.

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart, ‘m not letting you walk so deal with it.”

You sigh as a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, one you try desperately to stave off as you roll your eyes. He turns on his heel and squats down, head turning and brow raising as he waits. A huff sounds and so does a stifle noise of discomfort as you move, your hands pressing to his shoulders as you climb on his back. His hands rest behind your thighs as he stands tall, your arms wrapping around his neck as your head rests against his.

A quiet apology is immediate at the sound of your muffled complaints when your ankle is jostled more than you’d prefer, soft and sweet. You tightened your grip around him then, your chin resting on his shoulder as he kicked the busted door open, careful not to let it hit you.

The rain was drizzling outside as he started along the trail back to the car, the droplets cold against your skin as they pelted down over you at a steady pace.

“You’re taller than I thought,” you mumble, a teasing smile on your lips. “Maybe I should stop calling you short stack.”

His chuckle rumbles against you and you can’t see the grin on his face but boy was he sporting the sweetest smile as he shook his head at your words. “Oh really?”

“Yeah really,” you say, laughing to yourself. “But you are shorter than Sam, so I’m gonna have to take it back, short stack.”

He squeezes your good leg in playful retaliation, head shaking some more as he hikes you up further on his back. Even when you’re hurting you never miss the chance to pick on him and he swears you’re the embodiment of sunshine, he knows you are but he doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

“I meant it when I said you were a pain,” he says, his grin in his words.

You laughed then, one that has him smiling like a fool. You sigh softly, another laugh falling from your lips.

“I can’t believe I kicked my own ass,” you say, brows furrowing as you thought about it and his own laughter was immediate. It wasn’t all too amusing half an hour ago but in the current moment, it was kinda comical you will admit.

“You kicked mine too.”

You sigh, quiet and gentle as you look ahead over his shoulder. His stubble is rough against your cheek as your skin brushes against it, your hand that dangled over in front of him patting his chest.

“De?” You say softly, eyes focused on his boots with every step in the mud and gravel. He hummed. “You really are sweet.”

Sweet. It was something you called him often, something he’d beg to differ on because he feels you deserve more, but that isn’t even something he’d argue with you on. He knows full well he’d lose. But it’s got him smiling, one that only widens when you kiss his cheek and your smile presses into his skin, paired with a soft press of your lips to the corner of his mouth when he turns his head. He stops in his tracks and tips his head back, kissing you once, twice, three times before he turns once more and continues by the path.

It’s his wordless I love you, his wordless acceptance of your words as he’s got that goofy smile on his lips he’s glad you can’t see. You know you’ll be just fine as long as you’ve got him, and he knows he’s not going anywhere.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine

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sneezefiction · 3 years

Text

of night owls & early birds

Kuroo x Reader

desc: Kuroo, your roommate and longtime best friend, likes you but he really dislikes your sleep schedule. alternatively, your crush gets up way too early and you “suffer the consequences.”

a/n: the irony of working on this fic at 5 am doesn’t escape me… but it also hasn’t assuaged my awful sleep patterns. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: school/general anxiety, crass/offbeat humor (jokes about planning your own funeral), idk if you’re scared of love don’t read this - it’s very fluffy.

wc: 3.6k

--- You’re screwed, you think, as a light flickers on just outside of your room. It illuminates the carpet underneath your doorway with a warm orange tint.

And though it shouldn’t make your heart jump into your throat, it does.

You’d promised, swore to Kuroo, that you’d be asleep by 2 am - and to him, even that was a stretch. But he should count himself lucky that you’d even agreed to his demands at all.

After all, he is well-versed in the world of night owls.

Kenma, though maybe not your kindred spirit, shares at least a couple of qualities with you. Kuroo likes refer to these “qualities” as crimes.

One of these crimes (and quite possibly Kuroo’s least favorite) is your god-awful sleep schedule. And you’re a repeated offender.

There was only so much nagging and bickering you could take before you’d cracked and told exactly him what he wanted to hear. In a flurry of words, you’d agreed to turn off your laptop, close up your textbooks and actually put your head to a pillow.

You also may have been bribed.

To sweeten this deal, Kuroo had promised to buy you pizza this upcoming Friday, given that you actually did get some rest.

But as you reluctantly lift your phone, the glass screen glowing a little too brightly, you realize that it’s already 5:30 am.

You grimace.

It’s Tuesday morning. Meaning that the repetitive beeping across the hall is Kuroo’s alarm.

Your lips press into a firm line. Most birds don’t even get up at such a godless hour.

You can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have a functional morning routine. Or a morning routine at all.

Leaning back in your plastic desk chair, you squeeze your eyes shut.

It stings.

You probably got so caught up staring at the blob-like words on your computer screen that, somewhere in the process, your body had forgotten how to blink.

And while the tension in your neck and shoulders is painful, it’s nothing in comparison to the festering guilt of not listening to your longtime best friend and now roommate (a suspiciously well-intentioned college boy who had somehow managed to win your heart over the course of this fall semester.)

Thinking back, working on your final English assignment at midnight wasn’t the brightest of ideas. It wasn’t even due for another week. But as due dates loomed, the impending fear of a bad grade had begun to burrow deeply within you.

If you could just pump the brakes on deadline anxiety, you wouldn’t feel so pressured to type incoherent sentences at odd and empty hours of the night.

And maybe Kuroo wouldn’t feel the need to coerce you into a firmer sleep schedule. Though you do find this caring habit of his to be inexplicably endearing.

Thus, the prickling feeling continues to infiltrate your restless mind and the brewing concoction of anxiety and guilt in your tummy makes you feel uneasy.

But before you can sneak into bed and tuck yourself inconspicuously under the covers, you hear a floorboard creak.

As if on instinct, you hold in a breath.

Kuroo isn’t one to forget about little promises. Of course, he’d want to know if you’d made good on your side of the deal.

Gently, you close your laptop and swivel your chair to face the door. You still your movements, keeping your body taut against the back of your chair.

More soft steps fall just outside of your room.

Your eyes can’t pick a place to land, so they choose to wander. And with a quick scan of your room, it doesn’t take you long to realize that your bedside lamp had been left on - an instant giveaway.

You begin planning for your funeral.

However, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t go out this way. You prepare yourself for death by interrogation or shame-induced coma.

Regrettably, neither options seem very interesting to you. If you ask politely, maybe your friends will engrave a portion of an epic poem into your gravestone just to make your passing seem more sophisticated. Yeah, that sounds nice and pretentious.

Okay, you might be overdramatizing things - Kuroo would never send you to your grave. But that doesn’t change the fact that your psyche likes to play tricks on you in the wee hours of the morning and that the eerie quality of the atmosphere somehow reminds you of a cemetery.

As you sort through who-gets-what on your will, there’s a not so sudden knock on your door. The soft tap makes your heart skip for two reasons:

The first being that you still haven’t gotten used to the fluttering in your chest from him being present all the time. Developing a crush on him (and suspecting feeling on his side) had made you a little jumpier over the past few months.

And the second had to do with the fact that you were actually going to have to talk to him about this. To apologize for being a bold-faced liar. It wasn’t clear to you whether you’d be teased or reprimanded. And honestly? You’re not sure which option would feel worse.

So you take a breath and steel yourself.

“Y/n?” A gravelly voice sounds from outside your room.

It’s tainted with sleep. You shiver.

There’s a preemptive sigh, “C’mon y/n, your light is on. I know you’re awake.”

You’ve been caught, so there’s no point in prolonging it.

“...You can come in.” You reply meekly, clenching and unclenching your fists.

The door cracks open.

That soft orange hall light floods into your room and directly into your eyes. With a squint, you try to fully visualize Kuroo. He’s positioned himself so that he’s leaning in your doorway with his arms crossed.

Before coming to grips with the situation, you scan the boy up and down. Amusingly, you realize that he has to duck his head just to fit underneath the door header - he really is tall. You have to wonder if he’ll ever stop growing.

Aside from his intensified bedhead (which doesn’t shock you) and the sleepiness in his eyes, he looks normal. But you must look positively spooked, because the moment he sees you, there’s a flicker of humor in his golden eyes… and an almost invisible smirk.

At least he isn’t angry. That fact alone allows you to let out the breath you’ve been holding in. Anger isn’t really a trait you’d ascribe to him anyway.

“It’s funny…” He wonders aloud, “I thought we’d agreed to something yesterday.” Kuroo brings a mocking hand to his chin in a thinking motion.

Your body naturally begins to shrink into your seat. You want to sigh, protest, explain yourself… anything to keep him from lecturing you. But, technically, you deserve this.

“I’m pretty sure you promised me you’d be in bed, asleep,” He emphasizes “by 2 am…”

“And” he adds, motioning evenly to your set up, “I highly doubt you’re up early just to get work done.”

You bite your lip while gripping and releasing the fabric of your sweatpants.

Kuroo isn’t a mind reader by any extent, but the body has a language of its own. Right now, your actions are murmuring signs of discomfort. And exhaustion, according to your dark circles.

Kuroo heaves out something between a sigh and a yawn before he takes another couple of steps into your room.

The sound of mattress springs and rustled bed sheets gets you to turn your head toward him, though you hesitate to meet his gaze.

He makes himself comfortable.

This is a familiar scene, Kuroo invading your space. Well, it’s less of an invasion and more of an unspoken agreement that the both of you can ‘come and go as you please’ in regards to bedrooms, granted that the “invader” knocks first.

Essentially, if Kuroo wanted company, he would find his way to you and plop himself on the edge of your bed. You would do likewise. The interaction could last 5 minutes or 3 hours depending on your mental stamina that day.

In a way, it mimicked your childhood - going over to Kenma’s and knocking relentlessly on his bedroom door until he finally let you and Kuroo tumble through the doorway together. The only difference now is in the way that you spend time together. Conversations become deeper a lot faster. Belly-laughs after a miserable day of classes are considered sacred. Study sessions are done shoulder to shoulder and with a myriad of disgusted faces when frustrated with a particularly tricky problem.

But this is different from your usual conversations. It’s sickeningly early, you haven’t slept a wink, and a tidal wave of stress from this entire semester is finally crashing into you.

“I’m sorry,” You start softly, fiddling with your fingers, “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about this expository essay I’ve been working on and my mind is totally numb. I’m so stressed out by all of these-”

“-Classes.” He finishes for you.

You swallow, bobbing your head softly in confirmation.

“I get it.”

And just by looking at him, you know he understands. For someone so laid back and put together, Kuroo’s eyes could speak a novel’s worth of emotion and information at any given moment.

“But you’ve already spent more than enough time on it.”

Have I really? Have I actually done enough? Because it feels like I’m failing. Like I can’t seem to finish what I’ve started. I can’t even complete this paper.

But at least Kuroo sounds resolute.

He’s stating a fact, not an opinion.

And he’s not trying to be unempathetic. He does get it, he really does.

But Kuroo also sees how hard you work already. And he knows all too well that there’s only so much work you can get done in one night. You’ve got enough on your plate even without your classes, so having the extra academic pressure is just the cherry on top.

“Mm,” you hum, “yeah, I guess you of all people would know.” You hunch over and rest your elbows on your thighs, using your hands to prop your head up.

He’d been there at your most and least productive moments. On days when you were cranking out a few thousand words and nights when you could only jot down a few sentences. Hell, Kuroo had even volunteered to help you edit and format it when the time came. What kind of person offers to do that before they’ve even been asked to?

It’s just another feature of his charm, you suppose.

But you still feel stuck. Like you’re a boat stranded in the middle of the ocean and you just can’t seem the muster up the strength to pull up the anchor. The anxiety lingers.

“...It just doesn’t feel like it’s ever enough, y’know?” You breathe out.

There it is. Finally out in the open.

And Kuroo hums thoughtfully to himself.

He’s been there.

Not knowing if the effort he put into his work was having any actual effect. Being unsure as to when he should stop taking responsibility for something. Putting work, classes, and people before himself.

It’s draining; a swirling spin-cycle of exhaustion.

But he’s also been learning that “enough” is subjective. So he decides to say just that.

“Enough is a pretty vague word, don’t you think?”

You blink.

Yeah, you suppose it is.

Hopefully this isn’t another one of his bizarre epiphanies - the kind that makes you think your brain is going to implode. Sometimes Kuroo could be a little too philosophical for his and your own good. But you humor him anyway.

Shifting in your seat, you give him a stiff nod.

Satisfied with your understanding, he proceeds with his thought.

“What I mean is that we probably have totally different definitions of enough...” he drawls on, “... and different standards too.”

“Okay...”

“What I mean is that-” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “-what’s ‘enough’ to you may not be ‘enough’ to me. And vice versa.”

Kuroo tilts his head back, brows furrowing in thought. He’s grasping for the right way to put it.

“Y/n, I think you’ve done enough. You’ve worked hard,” he points out, “and I don’t think I know anyone who deserves a break more than you do.”

That makes you pause. You lift your head up to catch his gaze - his eyes are already studying your expression. Something inside of you stops functioning because never have you seen such raw sincerity. Or maybe you have, but you’re only just now noticing it.

He gives you a gentle smile. It makes your chest ache.

“You mean it?” You half-whisper.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’ve known this for years now, but Kuroo truly has a way with words. They had the ability to pierce like a harpoon or stick sweetly to you like warm honey. Even with a few (thousand) shitty jokes littered throughout your conversations, it’s only natural to be awestruck by him. By his ability to make even the most awkward of situations a little more bearable. How he subliminally knows how to soothe and temper you. You think he would make a really great businessman - he’s quite persuasive; a real salesperson.

One part of you wants to apologize to him again. Another part wants to jump up and kiss him. To tear up and cry in his arms with relief. You chalk these potential reactions up to exhaustion and hormones… but you don’t write them off entirely.

Because suddenly being 3 feet apart feels like miles. And your bed is looking terribly comfortable.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask, but you’re already moving from your seat.

He gives you an indifferent shrug - though he feels anything but.

“It’s your bed.”

Oh, you’re well aware of that fact. You can already feel heat rising to your face.

You stand up slowly, raising your arms to the ceiling in one final attempt to stretch. Then softly, you place a knee to the mattress and wedge yourself on the rest of the way until you’re sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He shifts his torso so that it’s facing you.

And now that you’re finally eye to eye, you can breathe.

He may be your crush, but you feel strangely comfortable in his presence. You always have. It’s part of what makes Kuroo... well, Kuroo. He embodies security while still pushing you out of your comfort zone. And for that, you’re grateful.

You break the silence.

“I really am sorry,” you echo your earlier apology.

You undoubtedly are. And you’re not sure why it feels like such a heavy thing to say over something as menial as a good night’s sleep.

“Hey, hey,” He soothes, reaching a hand over to ruffle your hair, “it’s no big deal, alright?”

You send him a half-hearted glare but it immediately breaks into a soft smile. His hand lingers for a moment longer than it should before he draws it away. You miss the teasing touch.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain eye-contact, but even as you look away, you note that his eyes remain concentrated on you. You can’t tell if it’s you who has moved closer or if he has. Either way, those few inches of distance have narrowed by a decent margin.

“I honestly just wanted you to get some rest. You’ve had it rough and by the looks of it-” He scans your face like he’s trying to diagnose you with something.

“Hey, watch it-” You warn, narrowing your eyes.

You already know you look tired. Kuroo loves reminding you of that in his own little way.

He smirks playfully, continuing anyway.

“-You could really use the sleep.” Kuroo’s raspy voice trails off.

“But apparently even pizza isn’t a convincing enough strategy.” He gives you a lopsided grin.

You shake your head, “Oh no, no, the pizza was very convincing.”

He scoffs, “Was it, now?” Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, “Because you seem very awake to me.”

“Can’t we just blame this on the paper, please?” You sigh.

He furrows his brows in contemplation, “Hmm, no. I don’t think so. This is partially your fault.” A rather underwhelming response.

“A small part.”

“I’d say it's fifty-fifty.” He reasons with a raised eyebrow.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Okay, you can quit whatever-” You gesture to his expression, “this is.” He always managed to pull the strangest faces and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh.

He snorts, “Oh? I thought you liked-” Kuroo gestures to his own face, “whatever this is.”

His voice has a curious edge to it. Some might even call it flirtatious.

And you go quiet.

You can’t help but stare at him. His messy hair, his barely parted lips. The fact that Kuroo just woken up and somehow still looks this attractive to you is so annoying. So frustrating.

And words are failing you.

It was an innocent comment. He’s just messing with you like he usually does. Maybe this has all gone a little bit too far. You should probably just say good night (or good morning) and rest your eyes.

Yet you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the perfect segway into addressing your relationship.

At literally any other time of day, you might be more rational. You could reason with yourself that this is quite literally the weirdest time to bring up your feelings for him. But something in you needs to close the literal and figurative gap between you two. And, for some indecipherable reason, it has to happen right now.

Whatever the outcome, you trust that Kuroo will always be your safe place.

So you throw caution to the wind.

“Actually, Kuroo…” You begin, staring at your hands which are placed neatly on your lap. “I really do.”

His eyes snap to yours.

This time it’s Kuroo’s turn to go silent in contemplation. Taking in a steady breath becomes an act of labor.

“You… really do what?” He asks slowly, grasping for your intended meaning.

Your heart pounds.

“I really like you.” You clarify.

It isn’t at all eloquent, but it’s sincere. You’d once heard that honesty came easier late at night, but you had no idea that it applied to early mornings as well.

But you finally make sense of the words that just escaped your lips. Panic arises. In an attempt to hide, you bury your face in your hands. You wish you could put the words right back into your mouth.

“I-” You take a deep breath, “I think I spoke without thinking.” Is all you allow yourself to mumble.

You no longer trust yourself with words.

Your face, your whole body really, feels like it’s on fire. Humiliation begins to wash over you in red hot waves… but you startle when a pair of hands meet your wrists.

You lift your head.

His fingertips are warm and worn. Still decorated with calluses from his years of volleyball back in high school. You want to question why the world has withheld this touch from you for so long.

He lures your hands away from your face, grasping both of them gently. For a sensation so new, it was somehow strikingly familiar. A thumb is meditatively tracing small, slow circles in the middle of your palm.

You gawk in disbelief… and as you scan his face, you catch a hint of pink on his cheeks. You can’t say anything though - your own face feels like it’s just become 1000 degrees warmer.

“I kinda figured you might,” Kuroo breaks the tension rather… bluntly.

Of course he did, wait what?

“But the thing is…”

Is this some sort of rejection? Is he just letting you down gently? Is that why he’s holding your hands like they’re as fragile as fine china? Then why is he looking at you so sweetly, so tenderly-

“I wanted to be the one to say it first.”

You start planning your own funeral again.

However, this time, emotional whiplash will be your stated cause of death. At least it’s a more unconventional way to go out.

“I- uh,” you swallow, “w- what did you just say?” It comes out as a stammer.

You’re squeezing his hands a little too tightly. When you recognize your modest death grip around his fingers you loosen your hold.

Kuroo smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly.

It’s nothing like that cunning smirk that you find annoying, yet so adorable. It’s also not one of his full-scale grins. It’s far too simple and reassuring. You almost don’t trust it.

“Well, in short, I like you too,” He re-explains, searching your face for a reaction, “but... I’d hoped to tell you that over pizza on Friday.” Kuroo looks away.

If you weren’t already gaping over his personal confession, you would probably be laughing at this new side of Kuroo. He looks unmistakably bashful.

It takes you a second to recover, but you finally open your mouth to respond...

But you’re cut off by Kuroo, once again. His softened expression is long gone. And, much to your dismay, he’s suddenly shifting himself off of your bed.

“It’s just too bad you didn’t keep up your end of the bargain. I guess that means there’ll be no pizza… no movie… no me.” He slowly releases your hands, knitting his brows together to feign sorrow - it looks hilariously forced, but you’re too worried about the warmth leaving your fingertips to care.

He’s teasing you like you’re his best friend.

And that’s because you are.

So then why does it feel like something’s changed? Like he’s daring you to make the next move?

Before he can pull away and leave, you tug at his hand which draws his whole body toward you.

Your heartrate spikes through the roof. When’s the last time you’ve been this close to someone? To a guy? A guy who’s shown actual living, breathing interest in you.

And he’s in your face.

Close enough that his scent, his cologne, is drowning your senses. Close enough that his breath is fanning faintly against your cheek. Close enough that you know there’s only one thing left for you to do.

Before you can think to hesitate, your lips are brushing up against his.

Intuitively, he brings his hands to your face, closing any extra distance.

Kuroo’s thumb feathers over your cheekbone, stroking it tenderly. His lips apply very little pressure and it’s unbearably delicate, but it fills you with an indescribable warmth. His lips linger just long enough for you to detect the mint from his toothpaste - he can probably taste the cinnamon tea you’ve been sipping on over the past hour. As far as kisses go, it’s reserved, but perfect for this distinct moment.

Plus, you figure, this is just the first of many longer, more eager kisses - though you can’t imagine being more breathless than you already are right now.

But you can hardly get another taste of him before those warm hands on your cheeks are prying you away. He stares. You stare back. His eyes are brimming with something warm and full. You immediately choose to label it, “affection.”

And in a much lower voice, Kuroo murmurs, “Let’s save this for later.”

You scan his face, wondering if he’s actually serious. He gradually makes his way off of the bed and onto his feet and before you can protest, Kuroo is speaking again.

“You-”

He leans down and gingerly lifts your chin with his fingers. The gentleness of his touch almost makes you flinch, but you somehow manage to hold it in the road. Though now you’re really at a loss for words.

“-need to get some good rest.”

He places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You still feel it after he pulls away. After he closes the door. After you’ve laid you head down on your pillow in shock.

How does he expect you to fall asleep after all of that?

---

extra: this is dedicated to Izzy - our sleep schedules may be jacked up, but i’m pretty sure it’s a blessing in disguise if we’re taking our time zones into consideration. thanks for making me laugh & for not stealing my quarter of the braincell.

and to my precious friends and followers - thank you for being patient with me. it’s hard to post or even write at the moment, but i’m steadily pushing myself toward a better mindset. i appreciate your comments, likes, and the fact that y'all even bother to check out my works in the first place. i’m working on it.

also happy birthday, Tetsu. you’re a real star.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo

403 notes · View notes

castthy-nightedcolour · 3 years

Text

One-Shot: One Good Day (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the notes as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Aziraphale

Warnings and Tags: anxiety, depression, social Anxiety, implied S/H, swearing, aziraphale loves your soul, mysterious soft guardian angel breaks into your home, soft comfort

Summary: life hasn’t been going great for you. every single thing which could have gone wrong in the last week has gone wrong and you’re reaching breaking point. miraculously, something appears in your room to guide you to safety.

Word Count: 2459

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/76720253

You stumbled through your front door, the handle of your shopping bag snapping in half as your foot made it over the threshold. You watched blankly as the bottle of lemonade rolled down the hallway and the other groceries poured themselves all over the floor, rain water dripping from your hood down your face. As you slammed the door shut behind you, the smell of disinfectant rose up from the place where the groceries were sitting and you quickly realised that there’d been a leak.

Deep breath in.

The breath makes it halfway into your diaphragm before it stumbles into a sob.

Burning in your throat as you pull down your hood and hear the water shake off onto the floor.

One wrong thing in your life always managed to form into two wrong things, then before you knew it you were drowning in a cascade of completely wrong things. Everything in the past week had gradually been getting more difficult and you now felt that if you couldn’t even go to the corner shop without everything going horribly wrong, there wasn’t much point in leaving the house at all.

Work was hell; customers were rude, you were in constant pain from walking the shop floor and folding and re-folding items that people threw onto piles, and your manager seemed to hate you more with each passing day. Because you were always working, you felt incredibly isolated from any of your friends, and your unsociable free hours prevented you from messaging anyone in complete fear that you were taking up their time.

Everything just felt dull. A pressure behind the eyes, numb hands, dead legs, a complete inability to produce even one tear. You hadn’t felt this bad in a long time and you could feel yourself spiralling quickly towards catastrophe.

You stepped over the pile of groceries on the floor and edged towards your bedroom, completely ready to fall down backwards onto your bed and think yourself into a pain of solace. Water was still falling from your coat down onto your floor, leaving a trail behind you before slowly pooling together on the lino.

As you pushed your bedroom door open, you ran your right hand along your left arm, collecting freezing cold water on the tips of your fingers and in the palm of your hand. You took this hand to your face in an attempt to feel something on a face which felt like brick.

Not cold enough. Try harder.

A swift slap to your cheek had you letting out a small gasp.

Still not good enough.

You lunged towards the bed with the full intention of collapsing onto it and never getting up again. As you propelled yourself forwards, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, one with a gentle but commanding touch. Although you stopped dead in your tracks, you weren’t at all scared or concerned about this other presence in the room. There was absolutely no hint of threat at all. Slowly, you turned your head to look at the hand, glancing up the arm which was clad in a pale beige overcoat. A warm voice whispered from behind you,

‘Now, don’t tell me you were going to get into that lovely warm bed in this coat?’

There was no other way to describe the voice but hug-like, embracing the dull ache in you and injecting just a hint of warmth. You didn’t reply, but slowly turned fully to get a glance at whoever the man smelling vaguely of cinnamon was.

He is almost luminous.

One hand resting lightly on your shoulder with the other holding the rogue bottle of lemonade with support from his underarm.

You took one glance at the fluffy white blonde curls on his head and immediately branded him as something ethereal, the rosy pink cheeks and beaming smile were just more evidence for this. You shivered under his light grasp, partially because you were freezing and partially because you were very overwhelmed by the sight in front of you. If this was as you thought, a visit from an angel, then surely your life would never be the same.

Or maybe you’d died?

As if reading your mind, the glowing being jumped in to reassure you.

‘I know you may be wondering what’s happening here but fear not, I’m here with good intentions. In fact, they’re the only intentions I can possibly have.’

You zoned out slightly listening to his honey soaked voice, your eyes practically glazing over at the idea of whoever this radiant being was being present in your flat which had become a complete black hole over the past week. You struggled to form any kind of sentence to articulate this, but eventually came out with one word.

‘Y/N.’ You breathed, immediately feeling like an idiot for saying it. The angel didn’t hold the same opinion on this matter, though.

‘Well, that is a simply beautiful name. It’s an honour to be in your presence, Y/N.’ He spoke. You couldn’t quite fathom why he was being so nice to you and an ominous, inky black cloud inside you was attempting to convince you that this was all some joke.

Noticing fear creeping into your eyes, the angel tightened the grip on your shoulder in reassurance.

‘It’s okay, I promise. I’m Aziraphale , I’m here to look after you for as long as you need.’ The voice, like nectar, coated your very being in what felt like love.

The angel placed the lemonade on the floor and then very slowly pulled your coat off your shoulders, constantly looking at your face for any hint of discomfort. All you could do was stand there like a lemon, a look of disbelief plastered on your face as Aziraphale lifted the coat and threw it behind him, with it seemingly now miraculously dry. As you leaned to try and peek behind him, he looked concerningly at your shivering body and took a step towards you, running one of his hands down each of your arms.

You could suddenly feel heat radiating off him as you realised that all of your clothes were sopping wet, it wasn’t just your coat. The storm outside had hit just as you’d left to go the shop, which was just the icing on the cake of the perfectly played out horrible circumstances of the week.

As the hands were run down your arms, you noticed everything become dry and fluffy, like you were suddenly dressed in fleece, but they were definitely still your clothes.

Some kind of miracle?

The reassuring voice of Aziraphale returned to the room, echoing off every wall.

‘There, now I think that’s a lot better. Won’t you sit down, Y/N?’ He gestured towards your bed and immediately, you fell backwards onto it, following his instructions as though they were law. Sitting up, you peered up at him as he moved to sit down next to you, a comforting smile still on his face. The feeling of safety was so overwhelming for you, especially compared to the chaos swimming around your body only five minutes prior. Instinctually, you kicked off your shoes, curling your legs up to the bed and sitting cross legged, turning to face the angel. You weren’t sure how to make conversation with the ethereal, it wasn’t exactly a day to day occurrence, but you ran with the situation.

‘So… well… wow I guess. This is… well it’s…. oh my god sorry, oh GOD I shouldn’t be saying God should I, not around you. I couldn’t have done this more wrong, could I?’ As the words trickled out your mouth, the familiar sense of embarrassment began to worm its way back into your soul, overriding whatever comfort Aziraphale had placed there previously. You were slightly shocked to glance at his face and notice the smile still plastered on it.

‘Please, lovely Y/N, there’s no need to apologise. Say whatever you need to say, I’m here to listen. I’m all yours.’ He beamed.

Something still isn’t adding up. There isn’t a chance that someone would be this nice to you out of choice, this must be a joke.

With your thoughts beginning to spiral again, your breathing was working its way into something between a pant and one long, continuous breath. Aziraphale noticed this sudden change, and placed one hand on your back and began to very gently rub.

‘Shhhhh, it’s okay now. What’s going on here? What’s happened?’ His voice rang like a bell in your head. Your breathing came to a complete halt.

No one’s every asked you that before, have they?

The angel realised that your ribs were no longer rising and falling. All he had to do was say the words ‘please breathe’ before you took one big sigh. Glancing down at the floor, you weren’t really sure how to even answer him. Did you mention your manager? Or was he more bothered about the fact that you’d barely eaten for three days, and the only shopping that you had managed to get yourself was now doused in disinfectant? Maybe he’d be able to help with your missed messages and emails.

Then again, with 43 notifications looming over you, maybe not.

As you lifted your gaze, all of your debilitating troubles culminated into two words.

‘I’m fine!’ A false chipper tone rang through your response as the angel furrowed his brow.

‘Well, now, and please don’t think me rude here Y/N, but I think that may be just a teeny-weeny lie.’

You both sat staring at each other for a few seconds as you let that sit with you. Interestingly, you swore that you could see sunlight on his face despite the fact that it was absolutely pissing it down outside. Eventually, you worked up the courage to respond.

‘Well, yeah. A little bit maybe but on the whole, I’m okay! It’s just my manager is really onto me at the moment which means that I can’t really concentrate so I’m having to stay long hours at work…’

As you spoke, the chain of events spilled out your mouth in a fountain of truth. You got to the point where you couldn’t stop talking, laying out an entire map of problems for Aziraphale to navigate his way across. By the time you were talking about the build-up of notifications on your phone, tears were running down your cheeks, with Aziraphale swiftly reaching across to wipe them away. He watched on as you spoke, an almost pained look in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see a human soul so torn up, especially because of other humans.

With words falling out of you so easily, both you and the angel were a little taken aback when you stopped yourself mid-sentence.

‘I’ve been coming home and I’ve just been sitting here and thinking, and thinking before eventually-‘.

Aziraphale looked as though he expected you to carry on for about a second, until he grasped exactly what you were talking about. He couldn’t help but getting choked up at the idea of such a beautiful soul being driven to destroying the vessel which was carrying it, and this was all he needed to hear. With both force and care, he threw his arms around your shoulders, allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

‘I’m going to sort this all out for you, Y/N. I can’t bear to think of you being so unhappy when you deserve the world, and everything beyond it.’

Before you could even protest with any idea that he may have been exaggerating, you felt a whimper leave your body which felt like it had been sitting there for centuries. Being held, being listened to, being cared for was something so alien to you, so overwhelming.

As you sat still in the angel’s grasp, you could physically feel worries lifting off your shoulders. You wondered for a moment how this was even possible, before remembering that you were spilling your problems out to an angel.

—

Turns out, Aziraphale really did sort it all out for you. A cheeky little rat infestation in the local shopping centre meant that the shop where you worked was forced to close for a few days, plus your manager had been taken out by a freak case of a rare tropical virus so they weren’t going to be able to leave their house for a couple of weeks.

Your fridge was fully stocked, every surface in your house was shining and a glass of lemonade complete with ice and a little slice of lemon was sitting on the side waiting for you when you returned from a bath which had driven every ache from your body. The angel was leaning against the fridge, reading a copy of Frankenstein which you’d forgotten that you even owned. You stood in the doorway of your kitchen in a fluffy robe, feeling a smile sit on your face for the first time in a while. The angel suddenly noticed your presence and glanced up, beaming at you.

‘Enjoying that?’ You asked, pointing your head towards the book. He held it up.

‘Takes a while to get going, doesn’t it?’ He responded, a quizzical look on his face. You giggled at this, slowly walking over to take the glass of lemonade. The angel watched on as you took a sip from it, the bubbles rising to your nose and making you sneeze. As you put the glass down, you fully turned to him.

‘Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything you’ve done for me.’

‘Oh, we’re not done yet my dear. I’m here for you until the end. Unfortunately one good day won’t be enough,’ he walked closer to you and grabbed both of your hands.

‘But it’s a brilliant place to start.’ He finished. You beamed up at him, but still with some concern sitting on your face.

‘What about when my manager gets better? I’m really not sure I can ever face them again, I-‘ Before you could begin catastrophising, the angel gently placed one finger on your lips. He then squeezed the hand entwined with his.

‘As I said, I’m here for you until the end. There’s many miracles for you, dear Y/N. Let’s just get through today, okay? We can battle tomorrow when it arrives. For now, I think that it’s time my food expertise should come out and that you should take a seat while I prepare the best meal of your life. Now, let’s see…’ He moved away from you, beginning to rummage in each cupboard and your fridge for ingredients. Naturally, you seemed to drift towards your sofa, as if being led.

Must be a miracle. For an angel, he sure can tempt you.

#good omens #good omens fic #aziraphale x reader #reader insert #comfort fic #aziraphale loves your soul #guardian angel #gender neutral reader #good omens one shot #good omens x reader

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onechicago-upsteadrhekker · 3 years

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the trouble with wanting (is i want you) - part three

Friends!

It’s here! Finally! The last part to my version of Hailey’s time in New York!

I know it took a while me to post everything, but better late than never I guess! I hope this lives up to your expectations and I can’t wait to see what you think of it!

Huge shoutout to @anniesardors and @imjustwritingg for hearing and reading all the things and just being the biggest hype girls of all time!

Please enjoy this fluffy chapter before we get served a whole host of angst in the season finale tomorrow lol. Also, just a forewarning, it’s a long one... Like over 10,000 words so you’re welcome haha.

Tagging: @imjustwritingg, @anniesardors, @thetwit, @angelsjedi, @chichichicken, @carissalizz, @maya-asturias, @stephanie708, @cpd5777

Read on AO3

It was nearing eleven in the evening and Hailey didn’t think she’d ever been so exhausted from the events of the day. Being released from the hospital and Jay’s mandatory five laps around the floor of the hotel had taken its toll on her.

It was a good kind of exhausted though because today, she had fallen in love with Jay Halstead all over again.

With every gesture and smile and look he gave her she fell in love with him again and again. His strong, but gentle hands, his heart always so kind and his eyes filled with an affection that made her heart ache in the best way.

Even though her side was killing her, she felt so incredibly grateful to have him with her because the devotion he’s shown to her over the past few days, and especially today, made her once again realize that he truly was one of a kind.

And spending the day with just him, laughing and joking and asking each other silly questions almost made getting injured worth it.

She yawns through a giggle, her eyes shining bright as she listens to him wrap up a hilarious retelling of a time when he was on patrol. For one of her questions, she’d asked him for his craziest experience on the beat and he’d launched into a story about him and his old partner responding to a burglary call at two in the morning.

A man had claimed that he had been robbed and was missing five pounds of bacon but upon further investigation, it turned out the wife had been sneaking into the kitchen for a late-night snack.

“We did get some bacon out of it,” he laughs, looking up at her from where he was laid out at the end of the bed. “So, it wasn’t all bad.”

Shaking her head in amusement, she stifles another yawn with her hand and Jay gives her an affectionate smile and a pointed look, both of which she’s become quite familiar with by now.

“As much as I love this, I think it’s time for someone to go to bed.”

She arches an eyebrow, trying not to look as tired as she really felt. “So, I have a bedtime now?”

“When you’ve been shot and are taking some pretty heavy pain killers you do,” Jay smirks and she knows that not only is he right about her needing rest, but he is also getting payback for all of the times she had forced him to bed using the same argument.

He glances at his watch, the smirk growing, “Oh, and look at that. It’s time for another round of meds.”

Hailey gives him a look and scrunches up her nose, still not thrilled with the idea of taking them, but silently thankful that they should knock her out for a few hours. Shaking out a few pills into an open palm, Jay grabs a fresh bottle of water from the mini fridge and gives the items to her.

“Do you want a shower tonight?” He asks as she throws the pills back in one go and takes a gulp of water to swallow them down with.

Wiping at her lips with her shirt, she shakes her head. “I took one this morning before you got to the hospital, so I’m good.”

“Alright,” he nods, leaning down to pick an empty plastic bag that had floated to the floor. “Why don’t you get ready for bed then? I’ll clean up out here and then help you change your bandages.”

Hailey carefully climbs out of the spot she’s been sitting in for most of the day and pads over to the chest of drawers she had finally unpacked in when it was clear she would be staying in New York for more than two weeks. She pulls out an oversized police academy shirt and a pair of running shorts before turning to rifle through the small duffle that Jay had packed for her hospital stay for her toothbrush.

She makes her way into the bathroom and even though her back is to him, Hailey is still very much aware of every move Jay makes as he busies himself with tidying the room and washing their dishes.

It all seems so domesticated and easy, like something they’ve done a thousand times before, and yet it feels different than if they were in one of their apartments doing the same sort of thing after pizza and beers.

There was something about knowing Jay couldn’t just hop in his truck to go home if he felt like it or that she couldn’t hide away in her own bedroom for a few minutes when the overwhelming urge to kiss him comes over her and it makes her heart beat erratically inside her chest.

She rinses her mouth out and takes a deep breath to steady herself before leaving the bathroom now dressed in her pajamas.

Jay places the last dish away as she comes out, turning to look at her with another easy smile that makes her knees week. She thinks it should be illegal for someone to look that handsome doing such a mundane task, but then again, it’s Jay and she knows he looks good in anything and everything he does. She doesn’t even have to work with him every day to know that.

She sits on the edge of the bed and Jay makes his way over to her silently, gauze and medical tape in his hands. Lifting her oversized shirt, she keeps it from falling down with an arm crossed just below her breasts and she thinks for a moment that there should be some sort of initial awkwardness at being this close, that she should feel uncomfortable, but there isn’t, and she doesn’t.

Jay had been there when the nurses had first changed her bandages, had carefully studied their movements as they showed him what to do when she got home, but now that they were here, his hands touching her and just the two of them in a hotel room it was almost too much.

His fingers were gentle, but nimble as he carefully undid the bandages taped to her stitched side and Hailey couldn’t help thinking how his hands were more reassuring and comforting than even the nurses with all their experience and technique.

“Cop who scares you the most?” The sudden question almost makes Hailey jump, not expecting him to speak and she wonders if maybe the silence was getting to him too.

She blinks but doesn’t have to think too hard on this one. “Platt, for sure.”

“You?” She questions and she can hear the smile in his voice when he gives the same answer she had a second ago.

As his fingers continue working over her injury, she can’t help the way her heart rate quickens. Can’t stop the goosebumps from popping up all over her skin. If he notices the way she shivers just slightly, he doesn’t show it as he begins to apply the fresh gauze over her side.

“Did you always wanna be a cop? Before you met Platt, I mean,” he asks then. She hates the way it catches her off guard again, but also feels grateful for the distraction instead of thinking about his hands moving over her body.

“Um, no, actually. I was really into gymnastics when I was younger. I remember watching the Olympics with my brothers and just loving the way they all moved through the air. Did it for a couple years but didn’t stick with it. Obviously,” she says as he puts some slight pressure on her side to apply some medical tape over the gauze.

“I’m sorry. I know this part hurts,” he says immediately, his fingers stilling, and she shakes her head.

“It’s okay,” she breathes out through gritted teeth.

She takes another deep breath and feels him begin to move his hands over her side again a moment later. Instead of thinking about the discomfort and pain, she puts her focus back on the way his fingers feel on her skin. The way his hands have taken down some of the most hardened criminals of Chicago, but here he is, as gentle and as soft as can be with her. Like he always is.

His hands leave her side a moment later and then she hears him whisper from beside her. “All done.”

She nods and pulls down her shirt before slinking further into the bed and carefully lying on her uninjured side as comfortably as she could. She watches him as he cleans up the medical supplies and disposes of her dirty bandages before turning off the main light of the room.

There’s just the nightstand lamp on, now casting a softer glow throughout the room.

Hailey took another deep breath, trying to breathe as quietly as she could as she listened to Jay moving around the room on the other side of the bed. Her heart was starting to beat wildly again with anticipation as she waited for the inevitable dip of the bed when he was ready to turn in for the night.

She could hear his footsteps fall softly, the door to the bathroom closing shut as quietly as possible and she knows he’s trying hard not to disturb her. It didn’t matter though; she’s so hyper-aware of him, every noise he made echoed loudly in her ears.

If she were being honest, the thought of them sharing a bed had plagued her mind well before she’d been sent to New York and he’d hopped on a plane when she’d gotten hurt five weeks later. When it dawned on her that this meant that her bed-sharing fantasies had a high probability of coming true, her nights had been filled thinking about this moment more than she would ever admit.

Generally, she wasn’t an over thinker, but when it came to this, her mind had raced with the possibilities and each scenario had played out in her mind like a scene from a cringy rom-com.

The bathroom door opened, and her eyes flew shut. He moved silently over to the empty side of the bed and there was some rattling on the nightstand as he plugged his phone in and took his watch off. When it was quiet again, she waited for him to climb in beside her, but she could almost feel his hesitation.

She was about to tell him it was okay, and she didn’t mind sharing; that the bed was big enough for both of them, but then he climbed in next to her like it was just any other night. Like it was completely normal, and he’d been sleeping beside her for years.

It wasn’t a night of passionate frenzy and tangled limbs or awkward small talk over them sharing a bed.

It just was.

“Jay?”

He barely heard it, but it was enough for him to wake up.

Turning over quickly, he squinted, trying to see Hailey through the darkness, “Hailey?” He rasped groggily, “You okay?”

She sighed. Or tried to. He heard it catch in her throat before she drew in a quick little breath of pain and he knows that her insomnia is probably what woke her up, but it’s her ribs and side that’s keeping her from falling back asleep.

He tried to shuffle closer to her without jostling her too much, “You in pain?”

He was close enough now to see her facial expression. Her brows were furrowed like she was upset with herself as she muttered a ‘crap’, “I’m sorry, Jay. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Blinking, he shakes his head, becoming more alert as he props himself up on an elbow, “Hey, no, you didn’t wake me up.”

It’s a lie and they both know it, but he’ll say anything to make sure she knows that he really doesn’t care about the interruption.

“How long have you been awake?” He asked, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. It was three in the morning.

Hailey does some sort of half-shrug, still laying towards him on her uninjured side, “A few hours I guess.”

Jay frowns, “You could have woken me up a long time ago.”

She still looks a little frustrated at herself, her forehead creased in pain and he knows all too well how brutal the first night out of the hospital can be.

It’s painful, coming off hospital grade pain medication administered through an IV whenever it was needed, having to now rely on low-dosage pills to get through the night.

It’s certainly not a comfortable night, not by a long shot.

And when there aren’t any nurses to answer your every beck and call, you realize just how hard everything is to do by yourself when recovering from an injury.

But she’s not by herself and he’s ready to do anything he can to help her tonight even if it is three am because she was there for him his first night home after getting shot in the shoulder and every other night when an injury was serious enough to warrant a hospital visit since she’d become his partner.

She would sleep on his couch, waking him up in the night to give him another dose of medication even if he didn’t think he needed it and she was there to gently change his bandages with comforting hands and this last time, he could have sworn he’d felt her warm lips touch his forehead as he drifted off to sleep after she’d made him his mom’s soup recipe; it was his favorite and Hailey always made it for him when he got hurt or sick after she’d found out what the recipe meant to him.

But more than that, he cares about her and this is what partners do. They look out for one another.

He’s also quickly realizing how much it hurts to see the girl you’re in love with in pain.

He’s pushing the sheets off of him, already reaching for the bottle of pills sitting on his nightstand, “I should have been more diligent about you taking these pills every four hours.”

He’s a little frustrated with himself for not setting an alarm to give her a dose during the night because now her pain is so bad she can’t sleep. Something he knows she needs to heal quickly.

Hailey carefully rolls on her back, gently holding a hand to her incision and the bruises surrounding it, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Jay. It’s not your responsibility and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn yesterday.”

“Hey,” He sets the fresh water bottle he’d just grabbed from the fridge on the table next to the pills he’s shaken out before quickly climbing up on the bed to look at her closely.

He wants her to see how serious he is when he says this, “I will take care of you. Every time, any time, anywhere you need me. Even if you don’t think you need me, I will be there. Always, Hailey,” His eyes search hers, “You got me?”

She doesn’t say anything then or protest anymore, just nodding her head and accepting the out-stretched water and pills, quickly throwing them back before handing the bottle back to him.

They stare at each other for a few seconds too long before she blinks and he’s moving to put the half-empty water bottle back on the nightstand. He gets in the bed and waits till Hailey gingerly lowers herself back into the comfort of the mattress before he reaches out and flings the fallen covers over both of them.

He turns out the light he’d flipped on before rolling over to face her. There was a good foot between them, but he never wanted to gather her up in his arms more than he did in this moment, just quietly staring at her in the sliver of moonlight that was cast about the room.

She was breathing shallowly, her arms carefully folded in a comfortable position and her head resting peacefully on her pillow. Her blonde hair was spread out behind her and even though it was messy from sleeping, Jay didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so perfect.

He was staring at her and she was staring at him and even though neither of them had found the courage yet to admit that they fall asleep thinking about each other even when they aren’t together, they both silently knew.

They knew in the way they laughed together and in the way they sit quietly in the truck doing their job and in the way it felt right in this moment.

The world had never felt so right than in this moment, next to each other.

“Favorite memory?” It is whispered into the dark much like she’d said his name not even five minutes ago and if he hadn’t been listening to her quiet breaths, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

A smile instantly creeps across his face at the question, and he knows he should take a minute to think about the answer to such a difficult question because how can one pick out a single favorite memory among a lifetime of them in such a short amount of time?

But he doesn’t even need a second because the answer is right in front of him.

“This. Now. Anytime I’m with you,” He answers honestly, and it feels like the most direct thing that’s been said between them regarding the feelings they both so clearly have.

He can hear her breath hitch just slightly before she breaths out a chuckle, “That’s not an answer. You gotta pick a moment.”

“Says who?” He challenges with a raised eyebrow she can barely see through the dark.

Hailey gives him a cocky little smirk, “Says me. I’m the one playing your dumb game and I’m the one asking the question, so I should be allowed to make my own rules.”

“I’m sorry. What do you mean by ‘dumb game’? This is one of greatest games of all time,” He mused airily with a hint of fake indignation, “I mean just think of all the great stuff we’ve learned about each other. It’s truly an unmatched bonding experience.”

“Uh-huh,” She couldn’t help but laugh at his overrated words of praise watching as a grin takes over his face.

“Because learning that you used to steal from Will’s hidden candy stash when you were a kid really strengthened our relationship in a special way,” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, it’s not like there’s a lot of stuff you don’t know,” He defended with a pointed look at her.

She’s still grinning that wide smile that says she thinks he’s something else, but she’s so carefree with her sparkling eyes and cheeky dimples, his heart feels like it might burst from his chest at the sight.

He’s leaning on a bent elbow, propping his head up as he gets lost in her and his expression morphs into a soft smile as he thinks about what he just said.

“We’ve spent a lot of hours together, Upton,” His eyes crinkle with fondness and Hailey feels a happy warmth settle over her as she hums in agreement, thinking of all the time they’ve spent telling story after story or just sitting in absolute silence waiting for something to happen.

It’s easy being with him. Has been since the very beginning. Even when they were figuring each other out and dealing with a lot of emotional trauma, there was never any real awkwardness.

He’s comfortable and natural and she’s never had that with anyone. That’s how she knows they are good together and that’s what lets her know that they have the potential to make this last forever.

She almost gives voice to her thoughts. Here, in the dark of a hotel room as they lay in a bed together for the first time, only a few inches separating them, but then Jay slowly starts breathing out the answer to her question and she knows it’s not their time yet even though she desperately wants it to be.

“Remember a few months ago when we all went out to Molly’s after that flesh-eating bacteria debacle?”

Hailey nods. She remembers being overwhelmed at the feeling of being carefree after the stress and terror they had all been put through in the last seventy-two hours. She remembers being thankful that she was alive, but more than that, she remembers being so very relieved that Jay was okay.

She’d had nightmares for months after that where she didn’t make the shot in time, that Jay had infected himself and lost limbs or died because of it.

“And afterwards you wanted ice cream, but everyone else wanted to go home so me and you went to get some?”

She remembers that too.

She doesn’t know why, but she’d had an intense craving for the frozen treat that night and she remembers mentioning it to the team in passing, figuring that she would just stop for a carton from the store on her way home, but then Jay said he would take her and the next thing she knew, they were down at Navy Pier getting ice cream.

She remembers thinking that it felt dangerously like a date and that they were going to get caught for being out past their curfew like a couple of teenagers.

Hailey notices his gentle smile as he gets lost in the memory and she thinks she can just barely see a blush coloring his cheeks. She wonders if he also thought the outing felt a little like they were reckless high schoolers out on a late-night date.

“That’s it. That’s my favorite memory.”

She knew that’s where he was going with this, but she still feels a little shocked hearing it, “That’s your favorite memory?”

If she sounds a little dumbfounded, it’s because she is. She was expecting him to say something about a favorite trip or something with his mom, not some random night where the two of them got ice cream.

“Out of all your memories, that’s the one you’re choosing? What about one of your birthdays or some other special occasion?” She questions again, thinking surely there is something better than a crowded night out in Chicago.

There’s a bashful look on his face, but it doesn’t diminish the contented glimmer in his eyes as he simply nods, “You asked and that’s my answer. Or do you have rules for that too?”

Hailey rolls her eyes, adjusting her head on her pillow, “No. I was just wondering why out of all the nights, that’s the one you picked.”

She doesn’t really expect him to answer, but once again he shocks her when he moves his head just slightly closer to hers and he looks at her like she’s everything he’s ever needed.

“That whole night I remember watching you laugh. Really laugh for the first time in months,” He smiles to himself as he recalls the memory, staring off into the distance, “After everything that happened with Adam and Kelton and then the outbreak, things were finally starting to look up and we were all just so thankful to be out without any stress of a case hanging over our heads.”

Jay shifts his gaze back to hers, “And then we went to get ice cream and we just talked without worrying about our team or being split up or potentially dying from a deadly bacterial infection.”

He takes a breath, “I remember being so grateful and relieved that you were okay after being in isolation, that being with you outside of work, seeing you so happy made me realize how damn lucky I am to have you as not just my partner but as my best friend too.”

Hailey has to blink back tears, not expecting the sentimental response or that it would affect her this much. She reaches out and takes the hand he has laying on the mattress, “You’re my best friend too, Jay. I hope you know that.”

She thinks she sees his eyes flit down to her lips and she thinks that this might be it, that he was getting ready to kiss her, but then he doesn’t, and she tries not to be frustrated at being constantly on edge thinking that each moment is the one that would change her life.

“What about you?” He asks, still holding the hand she placed in his.

“My favorite memory?” She arches eyebrow and he nods as she rolls slightly onto her back, staring up at the ceiling to think before answering.

Like Jay, she doesn’t have to think long, “That time I got really sick with the flu and you came over to fix me your mom’s soup recipe.”

It is his turn to look skeptical of her response, echoing the words she’d said to him, “That’s your favorite memory?”

“Yeah,” She nods before turning her head to look at him, “Even though I felt so crappy, I remember thinking that that was the first time that anyone had taken time out of their day to take care of me like that.”

“Hailey….” Jay breathed out, squeezing her hand as a feeling of protectiveness swept over him, his heart aching to hear that that was the first time she’d ever felt cared for while being sick.

“You made me feel safe when I wasn’t feeling good and in a vulnerable position,” She looks at him fervently, “You make me feel safe, Jay. On the job, when I’m not feeling well, and I’ve never had that before.”

He has that same look from the bar when she’d told him about how her dad would hit her mom and how she’d wished someone would come put her father in his place like Jay did with Shane.

What she didn’t tell him then was that even though Jay wasn’t around when she was a little girl to save her, he had already saved her by just being the kind of man he was.

The man who was selfless in his actions and who was brave without need of recognition, who was patient with his words and slow to anger.

So different from her dad.

From any man she’d met really, especially being in a highly competitive male-dominated career.

Jay’s forehead is creased like it does when he is distressed, so Hailey smiles at him and tries to lighten the mood, “I know what you’re thinking, and it wasn’t all bad. My brothers tried to be there for me, and we had fun when we could.”

She smiles, a little melancholy thinking of the brothers that she’d roughhoused with when she was younger and feels that little pang of sadness when she remembers they are not nearly as close as they were when they were kids, but regardless she knows she wants to let Jay in, so she chuckles to herself and starts to offer some insight to the good parts of her childhood.

“We used to build pillow forts all the time,” Hailey snuggles down into the bed, grinning as she recalls the all the messes they made in their hidden sanctuary that was the attic.

That’s where they would go when they wanted to pretend that they had a normal childhood. No one ever went up there except for them and it was fairly soundproof, so they felt safe to have a little fun without their father hearing.

“We would take all of the pillows and sheets and blankets off of our beds and haul them up the ladder leading to our attic and then my brothers would hang the sheets from the rafters, and we would pile the pillows underneath so we had a soft place to lay.”

There is a soft smile playing at Jay’s lips now and she’s glad she is sharing this rare piece of childhood wonder with him.

She wonders if he is imagining a little girl with blonde pigtails and a wide smile and some part of her hopes that that little girl is not her, but another little girl that plays with her siblings and instead of blue eyes she has green with two parents who are laughing right alongside her.

“I would crawl under those blankets and pretend like it was my mansion and that my brothers were my servants,” Jay laughs at this and Hailey gives a rueful smile, “Most of the time they were happy to indulge and if my oldest brother was in a really good mood, he was usually persuaded into reading to us younger kids.”

Jay smirks, “Now why do I get the impression that you had all your brothers wrapped around your little finger?”

She smirks right back, “Well, it’s not my fault that I was just so dang cute.”

“No, no it’s not,” He says softly, his expression suddenly so open and vulnerable she can’t help but blush.

She yawns, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over her, and it effectively breaks any moment they were about to have as a smirk reappears on Jay’s face, “Looks like the meds are starting to kick in.”

Hailey noticed that the sharp, throbbing pain she’d woken up with had lessened to a dull ache and that her head was starting to feel fuzzy, so she knew he was right.

Yawning again, she let her eyes close, humming, “Tell me another story about you and Will.”

She hears him shift, and she knows he is settling into the pillows before his gentle voice overtakes her senses and she’s carried off with dreams of little Halstead boys with green eyes and red hair.[EF1]

She’s woken by a beam of sunlight shining straight into her eyes and the last thing she remembers is listening to Jay’s soothing voice as he told her about the time he fell out of his second-story bedroom window because Will had reversed all the locks in the house as a prank and he was trying to get out.

Apparently, the only thing that had saved him from breaking something was the shed that was under his window and Hailey remembered thinking as she drifted off to sleep that it truly was a wonder that Jay had lived this long between his childhood misadventures and his penchant for getting shot in adulthood.

Turning, she is half-expecting to find him asleep beside her, but he is not there, and the mattress is cold enough that she knows he’s been gone for a while. One look at the clock tells her he has because it’s ten AM and she’s never known the man to sleep past six.

True, she’s not well-acquainted with his sleeping schedule, but she knows enough about him to know that his time in the army instilled early morning habits. Even if he was injured and she was staying with him she would find him awake by at least seven.

Carefully stretching, Hailey is pleased to find herself in significantly less discomfort than she’s experienced over the past few days and she’s hopeful that she will be able to be more mobile than she was yesterday.

She slowly pushes herself upright and looks around for any sign of Jay. His wallet and watch are missing from the nightstand and the door to the bathroom is open, so she feels safe assuming that he has gone out somewhere.

Her stomach growls and she hopes he is getting them breakfast.

It is then that she notices all the chairs and tables have been pushed to the middle of room and there are sheets stretched out over them in a semblance of a fort. The pillows that they weren’t using were thrown underneath and she feels tears prick her eyes because of course, Jay would make her a pillow fort after learning what they meant to her.

Throwing back the covers, she gently swings her legs over the edge of the bed to stand up, rubbing her eyes as a grin makes its way onto her face. She wasn’t lying when she’d told him that pillow forts were something that brought back good memories of her brothers, but she has a feeling that they may be taking on a whole new meaning to her from now on.

Of Jay and hotel rooms and lazy mornings. And if things fall into place, sometime in the future they will mean living rooms and slow kisses and little feet.

Her gaze catches the book lying on her nightstand. Her eyes sparkle as she grabs it and makes her way over to the fort, carefully squatting down so she could crawl underneath the ‘roof’ made of white sheets held up by chairs and heavy objects.

Settling comfortably on her back in the midst of the pillows piled on the floor, Hailey opens her book to her last marked page and gets lost in the world of Farewell to Arms.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed before her ears prick up at the sound of the hotel door being opened. She listens as Jay swings it open, catching it before it slams back into the latch as he softly calls out her name.

Staying quiet, she hears the crinkle of bags being sat on the kitchen countertop, Jay calling out her name a second time before he’s silent again, his footfalls coming closer to her spot under his fort.

She watches as his legs appear in her line of vision, his head suddenly making an appearance a few seconds later when he swoops down.

Hailey grins, “Hi.”

Jay grins back in amusement, “Hi,” He squats down in front of her, still just outside the fort, “I take it you found my surprise?”

“Mmhm,” She hums, the sparkle in her eyes softening sincerely, “Thank you, Jay. And not just for this, but for everything you’ve done for me.”

He shakes his head, “Hailey,” He pauses and huffs out an incredulous chuckle, “you don’t ever have to thank me.”

Unexpected tears spring in her eyes as his words touch her in a way she can’t quite describe. She ducks her head and blinks rapidly, trying to dissipate them before clearing her throat and looking back at Jay.

She uses her head to gesture at the space beside her and arches an eyebrow, “You coming in or what?”

Jay laughs, rolling his eyes as he slips off his shoes and carefully maneuvers his tall frame under the sheet roof.

Laying down next to her, he notices the book laying loosely in Hailey’s hands. He nods to it, giving it a pointed glance before looking at her and smirking playfully, “You want me to read to you?”

This time, she rolls her eyes and lets her body sway to gently bump him, “You want to read Ernest Hemingway to me?”

Shrugging, he plucks the book out of her hands and flips through it, “You got anything else?”

“No,” She shakes her head, “It’s the only thing I brought.”

Jay sighs as he looks at the title ruefully, “A Farewell to Arms, Hailey. Really? This is like the most depressing book on the planet.”

Frowning, she gives him an affronted look, “This is one of my favorites!”

He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head in disbelief, “I will never understand it, but okay,” He opens the book again, thumbing through the pages trying to distinguish what part she’s at because almost all the pages are dog tagged from overuse, “Where are you at?”

She diverts her gaze quickly, scrunching up her nose sheepishly before giving him a wry look, “I just got to book five.”

Jay gives her a look that says ‘really’ and huffs out a sigh as he turns to the last section, “I mean the whole book is depressing, but this is arguably the worst part.”

“But it’s so good, Jay,” She insisted, settling her head down into the pillows waiting for him to start reading.

He shakes his head again but turns his gaze to the page and starts to read, his voice gentle and lilting. Hailey thinks she could listen to him read to her for a lifetime and never get tired of hearing him.

He reads about the Henrys living in their cabin and then about Catherine preparing for the baby. When he gets to the part where she goes into labor, Jay notices a melancholy look in Hailey’s eyes as she lays quietly listening next to him, playing with her loose hair as she looks up at the billowing, white sheet.

Then he gets to the part where the doctor wants to do a C-Section and Jay swears he hears Hailey sniffling when he gets to the part where the nurse tells Frederic that the baby was dead.

He is almost to the end now, and he is surprised to find himself choking up just slightly as he reads line after line of Frederic pleading with God to save his wife. Hailey is definitely tearing up at this point and when he reads the last couple of lines, she wipes away the tears and sighs as he closes the book, clearing his own throat.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes before Jay feels like he can speak after going through that emotional rollercoaster of an ending, “God, Hailey, how do you like this?”

She shrugs, turning her head towards him and he’s slightly surprised at how close they were. If he wanted, he could barely dip his head and be kissing her.

“It’s beautiful in a gut-wrenching kind of way,” Her eyes have this inquisitive look in them, and it reminds him of how she looks when she’s going over files, trying to piece together backgrounds for motives.

He can’t help but scoff at her response, “It’s devastating is what it is. I mean the poor guy survived the war just to have his wife and child die all in one day.”

He shudders, rapidly pushing the unbidden, very unwanted image of Hailey in the same situation. God, he couldn’t even imagine, and he and Hailey were just barely on the cusp of being together.

“But it’s life,” She offers softly, a knowing look on her face and this time the look in her eyes is of someone who has seen a lot of death and unfair endings, “We know all too well how cruel this world can be.”

Jay sighs in acknowledgement, letting his head drop as they both quietly think about Hailey’s loaded statement.

He puts the book out of the way and rolls onto his side so he’s fully facing her, “Life is cruel, but it can be really beautiful too. Even in the pain.”

Hailey is quiet for a moment as she watches him, contemplating his words before she cocks her head, a strange little smile on her face, “Who knew Jay Halstead could be such a philosopher.”

Jay can’t help chuckle, his eyes crinkling merrily as he teases, “Who knew Hailey Upton could be such a sentimentalist.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “I guess your game was good for something then. We are just partners; I guess we don’t know everything.”

She said it teasingly because they both know that they knew the things that mattered, but then Jay looks at her and she can’t quite make out the expression on his face.

“I guess so,” He murmurs back, their eyes locking, and Hailey can feel her smile fading from her face as Jay’s gaze darts to her lips.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

The air had shifted from light and playful into something of hopeful anticipation as they both held their breath because this was it. Somehow, she knew that this was the moment they both have been waiting for.

“Hailey,” The way he says it brings her back to flying bullets and quiet break rooms; to teary eyes and soft whispers when the threat of being spilt up was very real and too overwhelming to think about.

He’d said her name then just like he was saying it now, breathy and gentle and maybe even a little bit scared. And just maybe, Hailey thought, they had been on the edge of this for far longer than she’d even realized.

“You know, I think I have just one more question for you,” It was barely a whisper, his minty breath ghosting over her face.

Her own shallow breathing had nothing to do with her bruised ribs and stitched side but everything to do with the way his forehead was almost touching hers as they lay on their sides underneath the fort made from sheets and pillows.

The joking and the laughter and the bright sunlight of a hopeful day shining through the white sheets, surrounding her and she feels it in her bones that this is the monumental moment of their great love story—the start of a beautiful life bursting with love and tears and pain and joy and pillow forts and all the things that come with loving each other; of building a family together.

Her eyes were lidded as she looked into those brilliant green irises that she loved so much, and the feeling of warmth and affection and pure adoration washed over her as Jay’s gaze dropped to her lips before his eyes closed completely, slowly breathing her in.

Their lips were almost touching now as they lay in the quiet of a lazy afternoon of an ordinary Sunday afternoon and it was in the way it was just so natural, so comforting that made her feel like she’d just had a glass of warm milk and was now tucked up in bed.

But that tingling feeling she had low in her belly and rushing through her bones was so much better than she’d ever felt before and she knew it was much more than just an ordinary Sunday—it was an extraordinary Sunday.

“And what question would that be?” She was almost afraid to talk even at a whisper for fear of breaking the spell they were under, but the barely murmured question was filled with hope and love and affection, adding a deeper layer of warmth to the bubble they had created.

“Are we only just partners?” His nose skimmed hers as he moved his head slightly, his slightly open lips almost touching her cheek in the barest hints of a kiss.

Hailey hummed, letting out a soft little sigh as she gently ran her hands up Jay’s torso, stopping at his chest, her touch light and soft.

“Do only just partners fly all the way to New York?” It was a rhetorical question spoken in hushed tones as Jay gently nuzzled her neck before bringing his head back up to gaze at her, their lips once again mere millimeters apart. She swallowed faintly, “Because I think we both know that we aren’t just partners.”

His eyes held soft tenderness and fierce devotion, the quiet future she’d dreamed for them reflecting so clearly back at her. The pads of his fingertips touched her cheek so scarcely it almost tickled, “I’d follow you anywhere, Hailey. To New York, back to Chicago,” His gaze burned into hers and she knew he was getting ready to say the words she’d been hoping to hear for so long.

She felt the fingers of his other hand tangle with hers by their sides, “To the edge of the universe and everywhere in between. Wherever you are, I am, because you are the person I always want to come home to.”

She felt the promises land on her lips more than she heard them, his voice was so soft and quiet. And Hailey thought it was perhaps the most intimate she’d ever been with a person.

It was vulnerable and gentle and warm and just pure, unadulterated love, and she knew she would never be able to put this feeling or this moment into words, but she knows that this is where she belongs; next to him, in his arms, his heart beating under her palm.

She barely had time to whisper, “Oh Jay” before his lips were softly pressing against hers in an intentional kiss instead of fleeting brushes. It was unhurried and really quite innocent as far as kisses go, but she’d never felt more cherished than she did in that moment.

His lips just barely moved against hers, languidly filling her up as he kissed her in the way one would savor the taste of something new yet familiar.

A last first kiss.

Jay pulled back slightly, their lips still touching as he looked at her, his strong but gentle hand cupping one of her cheeks, “Because you are my home. The person I want to share it all with—the joy and the pain. The person I want to tell my secrets to. To whisper all the hopes and dreams and promises. And that’s why I love you.”

Maybe he’s crazy for telling her what he so deeply feels in his heart right away, but then he looks at her and he knows it isn’t. They were already closer than most couples ever are, and he thinks that’s what makes them so special—so different from any other relationship he’s ever had.

It isn’t crazy because it’s true and they are them.

He knows she’s already seen the truth in his eyes anyway.

When Jay walks into the hotel room later that day, arms laden with Greek takeout, he does he wanted to do last night and calls out a ‘honey, I’m home’ in a teasing manner.

Hailey smiles at him brightly, her eyes shining with the laughter that’s so clearly on her face, and he can’t help but drop a kiss on her dimpled cheek, marveling at the way tonight was so vastly different from the night before.

It was so easy now, to just drop a kiss to her cheek or her lips whenever he wanted, like he’d been doing it for years and yet, he still had that buzzy feeling of anticipation that he’d had this morning when he kissed her for the first time.

Something tells him that it’s going to always feel like that when kissing her no matter how many times he does it over the course of their lifetimes and that thought alone sends his heart racing and makes him think dangerous things like rings and vows and forevers.

He knows, he knows, it’s definitely way too early for those types of thoughts, but then again, that has never stopped him from imagining a future with her before. Before they were even together. But now they are, and it’s proving difficult to not think about the thing that he’s wanted for so long is realistically and finally within his grasp.

“What?” She’s cocking her head, her lips quirking up in a question and he realizes he’s been staring at her for the past couple of minutes.

Jay shakes his head, lips quirking up in a smile of his own, “Nothing.”

Hailey gives him an inquisitive look like she’s not entirely sure she believes him, but the grin on her face tells him she’s too happy to care. She turns back to where she is gingerly picking up the room, gathering their collective dirty laundry to throw in the washing machines downstairs and he is suddenly, once again struck with the thought of this is what he wants his future to look like.

“What are we gonna do for the next couple of days? I’m probably not up for traipsing all over New York, but we should do something other than stay in this hotel room.”

Her back is to him as she talks and continues to tidy the messy room, leaving the fort for now, but gathering up a few pillows that are laying on the floor to throw back on the bed.

“We’d both go crazy, especially considering I’m not allowed to do anything ‘physically active’ which is, not going to lie, kind of a bummer seeing as how I’ve waited for ages for you to make a move and we’re here totally alone with nothing to potentially interrupt us,” She rattles on casually like she’s talking about the weather and while he is also bummed at not being able to take that final step of being together totally and completely for another couple of weeks, he is thrilled that they have this time together to get to know each other as a couple.

There are more intimate things than just sex and those are the moments he is looking forward to. He wants to know what she finds romantic and how much she likes to cuddle and if she hogs the blankets at night or if her feet get cold.

Things that only a boyfriend would know.

He realizes she’s stopped talking and is looking at him again, this time with an eyebrow raised in exasperation, “Jay! Have you been listening to me at all?”

He blinks and shakes his head sheepishly, knowing she must have been waiting on an answer to a question he hadn’t heard.

Her eyes furrow inquisitively as she shakes her own head in slight amusement before turning back to her task, muttering something about how he was an idiot, but she loves him anyway.

“Hailey,” He blurts it out, like he’s desperate, like if he doesn’t say what he wants now then he’s afraid it’ll never happen. She looks back at him again, this time with a hint of concern on her face, but he’s just looking at her like a man in love and she’s his whole world.

“Let’s get married.”

“Well, look who it is! The elusive damsel and her brooding knight in shining armor,” Adam exclaimed, his arms flung out wide as Jay and Hailey made their way up the steps and into the bullpen.

Hailey glared at him, but the smile threatening to take over her face ruined the effect, “Ha ha, very funny. A girl goes away for a while and she’s suddenly elusive, she gets hurt and now she’s a damsel.”

She accepts the gentle hug that Adam was offering as Kevin and Kim crowded in behind them at the top of the steps, waiting for their turn to welcome her home.

“Hailey, you can’t ever leave again. Or if you do, you gotta take me with you because one more day alone with these children and I would’ve lost my mind,” Kim insists as she moves in for a hug of her own.

There was a chorus of affronted heys’ from Adam, Kevin and Jay as Hailey chuckled at the desperation in Kim’s voice.

“Also, clearly you need us watching your back because the second you go off without us, you get hurt,” The statement is meant to be funny and it gets the eye-roll it deserves, but Hailey knows this is Kim’s way of saying she’s glad she’s okay.

Hailey is sure had they been alone, Kim would have been more direct with her feelings of relief, but as women in the force, they had to be careful not to exude to much sentimentality even if they know their unit would never use it against them.

“We sure did miss you, girl,” Kevin tells her as he steps up for a hug of his own and she grins into the man’s broad chest when she hears Jay mutter a, “And what am I? Chopped liver?”

Adam starts to tease him, but whatever he was about to say is cut off by Kim’s loud gasp as she all but yanks Hailey’s hand which was still resting on Kevin’s back to her face.

“Oh my God,” The squeal that comes out of her mouth is one none of them had ever heard before as she pulls on Hailey’s arm, bringing her fingers to eyelevel as she narrowed in on something that hadn’t been there before.

“Did you get married?!”

That definitely got the other’s attention, Kevin and Adam’s heads’ immediately snapping over to look at Hailey’s left hand that Kim still had a hold of, “Holy crap, Hailey. You go away for like five weeks and you come back freaking married?”

Hailey tries retracting her hand, but Kim still has a tight hold on it, staring at the engagement and wedding band on her ring finger of her left hand. She opens her mouth to say something, but she doesn’t get very far before Kim’s talking again, “I’m sorry, but who the hell did you marry?”

There is a beat of silence before Adam curses under his breath, muttering a ‘no way’ as he practically leaps across desks to grab Jay’s left hand which was rifling through his duffel bag. Much like Kim did with Hailey, Adam brings Jay’s hand to his face, pulling him half-way across his desk and ignoring his protests.

“Holy no way,” Kim’s eyes were about as wide as saucers as they all glanced back and forth between the two partners.

“You two got freaking married?” Kim says again, her voice at an unnaturally high pitch.

Hailey can’t help but smirk at Kim’s expression as she sits down with her mouth slightly agape and has to suppress a laugh at Kevin and Adam’s matching dumbfounded expressions. She shares a secret look with Jay, the sparkle of laughter evident in his eyes.

She glances over their friends before shrugging and offering a simple, “Surprise!”

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Adam states as he slowly sinks into his desk chair, his face whiter than Hailey had ever seen it.

She knew their news would be a shock, but she didn’t think it warranted this strong of a reaction. Jay sends her another look that says the same thing and she knows he’s about to ask Adam if everything was okay when Kevin starts laughing.

“Oh man. Dude, what did we tell you?” He snorts, holding out an opened palm as Adam looks up at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t think it would actually happen and you told me nothing of the sort,” He defends, looking very uncertain, his eyebrows furrowed in distress.

Swallowing, Adam finally looks at them, flicking his eyes between her and Jay, “You told Trudy, didn’t you? Why would you do that?”

Jay shoots Hailey a look before slowly shaking his head, “No, Adam, we didn’t tell anyone.”

His face goes even whiter than it was before, and he sinks out of his chair to sit on the floor, burying his head in his hands.

Kim’s eyes widened and she looked at Adam warily, “Adam, what did you do?” Her eyes narrowed in alarmed suspension, “Don’t tell me you actually made that bet with Trudy.”

Adam was now lying flat on his back in the floor, his head moving back and forth in misery as he groaned, “I thought I had it in the bag. I mean, if Jay and Hailey didn’t tell her then how the hell did she come up with exactly what happened? That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

Kevin shook his head in slightly terrified admiration, “I don’t know, man. Trudy Platt is as mysterious as they come, and she has mad skills.”

Hailey’s eyebrows furrow as she watches Adam’s dramatics play out in front of her, “What bet? What are you guys talking about?”

Kim and Kevin share a look, ignoring Adam who was still moaning in disbelief on the floor behind his desk and at Kevin’s shrug, Kim looks back at Hailey and Jay.

“Well,” She draws it out like one who is coming clean about something they don’t particularly want to divulge, “We’ve had bets going for a while on when you two were going to get together because we all knew this was going to happen sooner or later and we decided the other day that it was going to be sooner rather than later because of the whole New York thing.”

“And somehow Trudy ended up pitching the idea of you guys eloping and I guess Adam was stupid enough to take the bet,” She purses her lips, “Not that any of us actually thought you were going to get married. Together, yes, but married?”

Kim trails off and Hailey’s eyebrows arch warily, “Wait a second. What do you mean ‘we all knew this was going to happen sooner or later’? Because to be completely honest, I didn’t even know if it was going to happen till a few days ago.”

“Girl,” Kevin shakes his head and uncrosses his arms to put his hands in his pockets, “You have no idea the amount of gossip you guys generate down in patrol. You two are like a freaking slow-burn romance novel,” At Kim’s odd look he hurries to add, “Not that I know anything about those. That’s just what Vanessa says and honestly, this whole thing was started by her so you can just go find her in whatever undercover operation Narcotics has her in and bring it up with her.”

There is a slightly uncomfortable pause as Hailey and Jay take in the information that they are already a source of gossip in the district, but it’s broken by another one of Adam’s distressed groans.

“Man,” Jay looks over at him, his eyebrows arching like he was finally fed up with his friends’ bemoaning, “What the hell kind of deal did you make with Trudy.”

Kim crosses her arms, also clearly unimpressed, “You know, I’d also like to know what has you rolling around like you’re in state mourning.”

“I didn’t think they were actually going to get married, or I would have never made the bet,” Adam insists again, running his hands over his face, “I owe her a months’ worth of drinks at Molly’s, and I have to do school crossings for the rest of the school year.”

Jay laughs, “Oh man,” He shakes his head in amusement, “You do realize it’s only February, right?”

Adam glared at him, “Oh shut up.”

Clambering to his feet in a huff of despair, he heads dejectedly towards the stairs, “I guess I’d better go settle up before Platt comes up here to rub it in my face.”

They watch him go, each trying to hold in snorts of laughter before he disappeared around the corner and Kevin turns back to where Hailey and Jay have taken up residence at Hailey’s desk.

“I still can’t believe you two are actually married,” He rubs his face briefly with an astonished huff of laughter, “Together, I could believe. In fact, I have money on it, but married? Like, what inspired you to skip the dating phase?”

Hailey and Jay share an amused look, her expression changing imperceptibly before Jay turns back to Kim and Kevin, “I guess we should probably come clean.”

They look a little confused for a moment before Kim creases her forehead skeptically, “Wait a second,” Her eyes widen in realization before she slowly starts to speak, “Are you telling us that was all a joke?”

“Well,” Hailey smirks, starting to remove the wedding and engagement bands on her finger as Jay did the same with the wedding band he was wearing, “The married part was a joke but the together part,” She looks at Jay and he gives her a soft smile full of warmth and love, “That’s for real.”

“Wait, seriously?” Kevin gave an impressed grin, chuckling, “So, Adam didn’t really lose that bet?”

Jay shrugged, grinning, “No, not technically,” He winks, “but we don’t need to tell him that.”

“I honestly can’t believe that turned out as well as it did,” Hailey shakes her head in disbelief, “We had no idea Adam had made that bet with Trudy. We just thought it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t because that was entertaining as hell and I for one am going to enjoy watching Adam carry out a bet he actually didn’t lose,” Kim flops down in her desk chair, powering up her computer as she laughs.

Kevin follows suit, laughing as they all turn to their computers to start the workday. They have to smother snickers when half an hour later, Adam trudges up the steps with a smug looking Trudy Platt following him, rattling off his new school crossing schedule.

“I can’t tell you how good it feels to be back,” Hailey sighs, leaning into Jay as they walk out of the district and into the roll-up, Jay’s arm slung around her shoulders.

He kisses the side of her head, “It feels good to have you back. I know I’ve said this before, but nothing was the same while you were gone. I hope everything will start to go back to normal now that you’re here with me.”

Hailey suddenly extracts herself out from under his arm and puts a good couple of inches distance in between them. Jay frowns, confused at her sudden coldness, “Hailey?”

“What?” She gives him an innocent look, a smile starting to tug at her lips, “You said you hope things go back to normal. This is normal for us.”

Jay gives her an unimpressed look, “Ha ha. Very funny. You know what I meant.”

She chuckles and lets Jay sling his arm over her shoulders again as they continue to walk over to where he parked the truck earlier.

“A new normal then,” He amends, “One where I get to kiss you and touch you and tell you how much I love you.”

Nestling her head into his shoulder, she looks up at him with a heartfelt smile, “Sounds good to me.”

They are at the truck now and Jay walks with her to the passenger’s side before stopping to turn and face her, his hands coming to rest on her upper arms. He takes a breath and Hailey’s eyebrows furrow at the almost nervous expression he is wearing, “I know that whole marriage thing today was a joke, but I meant what I said while we were in New York.”

Hailey remembers the initial shock she felt when Jay had blurted out that they should get married as they stood in their hotel room mere hours after their first kiss. He hurried to add that he meant sometime in the future, but he wanted to let her know how serious he was about this relationship even if it was way to early by most standards to be talking about marriage.

She’d listened to him ramble on uncharacteristically about how he loved her, that she was it for him and he just wanted her to know that. That one day in probably the near future he wanted to ask her for real and he hoped beyond all belief that she would say yes because he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her but even if she didn’t want to get married, he was okay with that. He just wanted to be with her on any terms.

After she got over the surprise of his statement, she found that she wasn’t frightened by how fast things seemed to be moving and if it had been anyone other than Jay, she knew deep in her bones that she would be running for the hills at even the hint of marriage.

But it was Jay and if she were being honest, she would’ve married him back in New York if he’d asked her to and she would marry him tomorrow if he dropped down on his knee right now to propose to her.

Jay swallowed and she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “You are it for me and someday, I’m going to ask you to marry me. I hope to God you say yes, but I want you to know that as long as I’m with you, my life is filled with purpose, so we don’t need to define anything with a piece of paper or anything. I just need you to know how serious I am about this.”

“Jay,” She interjects softly, placing a hand on his chest over his rapidly beating heart, “Today, tomorrow, ten years from now. If and whenever you ask me,” She smiles gently as she moves to cup his stubbled cheek, “My answer will always be yes.”

I hope the ending wasn’t too cringy, but I had to end it somewhere lol! As always, let me know what you thought!

Love you all and can’t wait to see you for my next project!

#upstead #upstead fic #chicago pd fanfic #hailey upton #jay halstead

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thefinalcinderella · 3 years

Text

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 8 - Winter Comes Again (Part 5)

Hakone finally starts in the next chapter, which is like, 80 pages long

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. Kamaboko is a type of fish cake and Odawara is well known for its high quality Kamaboko

2. Zouni is a type of soup that contains rice cakes and is usually eaten on New Year’s Day

Previous | Next

That night, Kiyose was planning to explain the Hakone Ekiden entries as well as hold a drinking party. After training and jogging, the residents gathered one after another in the twins’ room.

Kiyose had gone off somewhere after training. Nico-chan and Jouta were in charge of cooking; they were probably making something to serve as an accompaniment to the drinks. Thinking he should help, Kakeru was just about to leave the twins’ room and go down to the kitchen when his phone rang. It was his home phone number in Sendai.

His parents hadn’t contacted him once since he had moved to Tokyo. He had sent them a postcard with Chikusei-sou’s address, but that was it; just transferring the money for school fees and minimal living expenses into his bank account was enough for him. His parents had wanted him to go to university on a track recommendation because they had had high hopes for their son as a well-mannered track athlete.

When he pressed the button to answer the call, he heard the nostalgic voice of his mother say, “Kakeru?”

“Mm.”

“You were written up in a magazine, weren’t you? We told you so many times not to do anything that would make you stand out. Your father is very angry with you. Are you listening?”

“Mm, sorry.”

“Please put yourself in our shoes, living here. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing for the New Year’s holiday? Are you coming back?”

“No, I’m going to be in Hakone, so I don’t think I have time to come home.”

“Ah, yes,” his mother’s voice took on a distinct note of relief. “Okay, then. Take care.”

Clutching his now-silent phone, Kakeru stood in the middle of the stairs for a while. In a daze, he belatedly noticed Yuki’s presence at the door.

“Oh, sorry,” Yuki said. “I didn’t intend to eavesdrop.”

Yuki was holding a bag from a record store in Shimokitazawa. No matter how busy he got, he never lacked music in his life. “No problem,” Kakeru answered, and walked down the stairs to stand in the hallway with him.

“Was that a call from home?”

“Yes. They got angry at me for standing out.”

“You’re the man of the hour, after all,” Yuki laughed. If it was Yuki, he might be able to tell him—Yuki was so far the only one not happy about being interviewed. He wanted someone to hear out his painful feelings, so Kakeru deliberately confided in him as though it was no big deal.

“I don’t get along well with my parents.”

Yuki was silent for a minute.

“I see. It’s the same for me,” he said. “In my case, I guess you can call it being overprotective. My mom remarried. The guy’s not a bad person, and I have a little sister who’s a lot younger than me, and she’s pretty cute, I guess, but… It bothers me when I’m told 'we’re your new family now' and get fussed over a lot. To be honest, I don’t want to get too close to them.”

“How old is your little sister?”

“Five.”

“Eh, so she’s more than fifteen years younger than you, Yuki-senpai?”

“Yeah. My mom’s doing her best,” Yuki pushed his glasses up as though to say, Good grief. “It’s a given that family members would bother you. You have to not expect too much from them and keep a reasonable distance.”

Yuki walked towards his room—it seemed that he had given his advice. “Okay,” Kakeru answered, and then went to peek in the kitchen, which had been noisy with the sound of running water and pots falling from a short time ago. Then, Yuki returned to the hallway.

“That’s right, Kakeru,” he said. He beckoned him to a corner of the hallway. “When I was coming back, I saw Haiji at Seijo Station.”

Is he doing some shopping? Although it was a station where express trains stopped, Kakeru and the others didn’t go to Seijou that often. If anything, they usually went to Soshigaya-Okura Station, which had a folksy and mixed atmosphere.

“He went into an orthopedics clinic in front of Seijo Station.”

Kakeru jerked in surprise. There was an old scar on Kiyose’s right shin; even after the qualifiers, he had looked like he was having a hard time. Kakeru had completely forgotten about it in the commotion of training and interviews.

“I don’t know much about the injuries of track athletes.” Yuki knitted his brows. “But maybe Kiyose’s isn’t completely healed.”

In any sport, the best athletes all had some sort of injury, and track and field was no exception. Hard training and risk had always gone hand in hand with each other—the more you trained, the sharper and more delicate your body became.

“If he’s seeing a doctor, they’ll stop him if he gets too reckless, so that actually makes me relieved, but…”

“Would Haiji listen to the doctor? Especially at this time.”

That’s true, Kakeru thought. The fact that he had gone to the doctor meant that he must be feeling some kind of discomfort, maybe even distinct pain. Even if he requested a prescription to suppress the pain, Kakeru had a feeling that Kiyose would not listen to the doctor’s advice.

“I understand. I’ll ask Haiji-san later,” Kakeru assured Yuki.

Kiyose returned to Chikusei-sou before they knew it. Kakeru carefully twitched his nose around Kiyose to see if he could smell a poultice, but he couldn’t find any evidence.

“You’re a strange guy.”

That was all Kiyose said to him.

“There’s been a lot going on lately,” Kiyose said, looking around at everyone gathered in the twins’ room. “Well, don’t worry about it. We’ll get our answers through our running.”

“Haiji-san, you’re so cool!”

“’What do you want with our Kurahara?’”

The twins, who had already been drinking, made fun of him. Ever since the incident with the Shinjitsu Weekly reporter, the twins seemed to have recovered their trust in Kiyose.

“The month of November is finally coming to an end. There’s no time left until the Hakone Ekiden,” Kiyose continued, ignoring the twins. “From now on, taking care of your physical condition will be the most important thing; be careful not to get injured at the last minute.”

At the word “injured,” Kakeru couldn’t help but exchange a glance with Yuki.

“Kakeru, explain the entries for Hakone,” Kiyose said, and Kakeru shook off his worries for now. The gazes of the residents, sitting in a circle, were focused on him.

“The first step is to submit the names of up to sixteen people per team to the organizer on December 10,” Kakeru began to explain. “At this stage, who will run which leg will not be revealed. Next, on December 29, it will be the leg entry, where the sixteen runners will be narrowed down to fourteen, and ten of those people will declare which leg they are running. The remaining four will be treated as alternates. Changes in leg entries are allowed on the day of the Hakone Ekiden. The final runners will be announced before the start times of the outward and return trips. However, once a runner is removed from a leg, they cannot be entered into another leg.”

“I don’t get it. What does that mean?” Jouji asked.

Kakeru thought about it a little, then simplified it. “Suppose Rokudou’s Fujioka was entered into the second leg on December 29. This means that Fujioka cannot be assigned the fifth leg in the final entry change on the day of Hakone. If Fujioka isn’t feeling well on the first day, they have no choice but to put one of the four alternates in the second leg, and even if Fujioka recovers on the second day, he wouldn’t be allowed to run.”

“I see.” Musa nodded. “Conversely, if Fujioka-san is one of the four alternates, can we assume that Rokudou will change its entry on the day of Hakone?”

“That’s exactly right,” Kiyose said. “If there’s a strong competitor in the alternate slot, then they are either not feeling well or they plan on changing the entry of an important leg on the morning of the race as a secret weapon. After seeing the entries for each leg on the 29th, each university will consider its strategy and, trying to read their opponent’s mind, unfold a new strategy.”

“We can’t lose focus even right before the start, can we?” King seemed to feel pressured. “But we only have ten people, so that’s got nothing to do with us. We don’t have strategies or anything.”

“It’s true that we will be showing all our cards on the 29th.”

Feeling uneasy, Kakeru looked at Kiyose; Kansei had no alternates, and once they made their entries, it wouldn’t be possible to switch legs. He wanted to know what Kiyose thought about that.

“We’re not the only ones with a small lineup,” Kiyose said calmly. “Changing your entry on the day of the race can be a good or bad thing. After all, sometimes it won’t go well when you’re suddenly asked to run. In fact, there are many schools that have a policy of not changing the leg entries unless there is a serious problem. Knowing that there’s strategy regarding the entries, it’s better to know early on which leg you’re running so that you can prepare.”

“Haiji, have you already decided which legs we’re going to run?” Yuki asked.

“Yeah,” Kiyose said and straightened his posture. “Of course, if you have any objections, we can discuss it, but I think this is the best we can do for now.”

Kiyose took out a memo from his track pants and laid it out in the center of the circle. Everyone leaned in to take a look and let out cries of surprise.

Hakone Outward Journey (Day 1)

First Leg Otemachi to Tsurumi Prince

Second Leg Tsurumi to Totsuka Musa

Third Leg Totsuka to Hiratsuka Jouta

Fourth Leg Hiratsuka to Odawara Jouji

Fifth Leg Odawara to Hakone Shindou

Hakone Return Journey (Day 2)

Sixth Leg Hakone to Odawara Yuki

Seventh Leg Odawara to Hiratsuka Nico-chan

Eighth Leg Hiratsuka to Totsuka King

Ninth Leg Totsuka to Tsurumi Kakeru

Tenth Leg Tsurumi to Otemachi Kiyose

“Me in the second leg? I cannot do it.” Musa was trembling all over. “The second leg is the section for the aces, yes? Why is it not Kakeru then?”

“It’s pretty bold to put Prince-san in the first leg…” Jouji reservedly tilted his head.

Even Prince muttered, “What are you doing throwing the race from the start?”

Kakeru immediately understood what Kiyose was trying to do when he saw the lineup he had planned. Haiji-san is going to try to win the race in the second half. He’s seriously aiming for us to get seeded. No, if the race goes the way Haiji-san thinks it will, it won’t be about seeding—with these placements, we can aim for a much better ranking…!

They were such a weak club that they were in danger of not surviving next year. They were just a bunch of amateurs that had finally managed to crawl up this far, but Kiyose didn’t know the meaning of giving up; he was always looking upward, holding up dreams and goals, and firmly leading the residents of Chikusei-sou. Aiming for the heights of running. Aiming to reach the top of the Hakone Ekiden—the ultimate intermediary between individual and team competitions.

Seeing from the entry form how serious Kiyose was, Kakeru clenched his fists. If he hadn't, he would have gotten so excited that he would have ended up looking like an animal.

“Prince is the only one for the first leg,” Kiyose said gently. “Maybe it’s because you don't have any interest in the 3D world, but you’ve never been scared at the meets or qualifiers; you’re the most suitable person for the first leg, which has the most attention focused on it. You’re also tough enough to have kept up with the training until now even with your very slow times. I’m sure you’ll be able to hold your own in the race.”

He casually said something rude again, Kakeru thought, but Kiyose wasn’t lying about his expectations. Prince must have felt that as well, and a light came into his eyes.

“But in these past few years, the first leg has often been fast paced.” Yuki asked a question based on the data he had collected: “This time too, won’t each school choose a runner for the first leg based on speed?”

“There’s also a chance that it’ll develop at a slow pace in reaction to that. That’s a gamble,” Kiyose readily admitted. “But even if Prince gets separated from the others, he can still make up for it in the first leg. That’s why I chose a solid group of runners for the second to fourth legs, and there’s no one but Shindou who could do the fifth leg’s mountain climb, right? Musa and the twins should be able to steadily make it there.”

“It is too much for me to run in the ace’s leg.” Musa didn’t seem convinced.

“What do you think?” Kiyose turned to Kakeru. “Musa seems to want you to run the second leg.”

“No. I think Musa-san is the perfect fit for it,” Kakeru said with conviction. “Musa-san has been training while pushing aside all sorts of pressures. Even though he never did long-distance before, he can now run ten kilometers in the low 29-minute range. And Musa-san has always encouraged me.”

His effort and personality were second to none. Musa was an ace among aces.

“You are giving me too much credit, Kakeru,” Musa said, embarrassed. But it was unanimously decided that he would run the second leg.

There were no objections to the twins running the third and fourth legs, and they were very enthusiastic about it.

“The third leg is a road that runs along the sea. The scenery’s really nice,” said Jouta.

“Can we buy some kamaboko (1) in Odawara?” said Jouji.

The fifth leg was good with Shindou, but the problem was the sixth leg, which was Yuki’s mountain descent.

“Why am I doing the sixth leg?” Yuki asked Kiyose, looking for an explanation.

“On the trial run the other day, your posture was very stable. Normally, when people run down a steep slope like that, they’d be bent forward,” Kiyose glanced at Yuki’s legs, which were in a cross-legged position. “Also…you have thick legs.”

“What?”

“No, it was a compliment. Anyways, if your legs and loins aren’t solid, the sixth leg is out of the question.”

“It’s like sturdiness is my only good point. You say that, but what would you do if I get hurt?”

“It’s fine, isn’t it? You already passed the bar. You won’t have any opportunities to do serious track and field after graduation.”

“Oi oi, that’s irresponsible and cruel…” Nico-chan said, but Yuki was surprisingly calm and said, “You have a point,” accepting Kiyose’s words. If it made sense, he would swallow any cool-headed opinion. It was a method of persuasion that perfectly grasped Yuki’s character, and Kakeru was once again in awe of Kiyose’s ability to manipulate people.

“About Nico-chan-senpai in the seventh leg and King in the eighth leg,” Kiyose continued, “I think that when you get to this part of the route, the runners will start to break up, and there will be times when you’re running by yourself. You won’t be able to see the runners from the other teams in front or behind you. Even in situations like those, both of you will be able to run at your own pace without panicking or becoming careless. The battle to get seeded will intensify, so this is an unassuming but important section.”

“Are we planning on getting seeded?” Jouji nervously asked.

“Of course,” Kiyose decisively stated. “Now, for the last two legs, I entered Kakeru into the ninth leg, which is also called the ace leg of the return trip. As for the anchor, the tenth leg, I’ll be the one responsible for it, as I was the one who said we’re going to the Hakone Ekiden and got you guys involved.”

Kiyose only gave a brief explanation for himself and Kakeru. However, Kakeru thoroughly sensed Kiyose’s feelings for the Hakone Ekiden, and he also knew what kind of running they would have to show in the ninth and tenth legs.

Kakeru looked at Kiyose. Kiyose was silent, then nodded at him.

“That’s all. Are there any questions or thoughts?”

No one raised their hand. Pulled along by Kiyose’s conviction, everyone was finally thinking about the Hakone Ekiden as something concrete, and their fighting spirit was rising.

“Okay. Until the announcement of the entries for the legs on the 29th, what I told you is of course confidential. I want each of you to do your own image training and study the leg you’ll be running.”

Kiyose picked up his cup full of alcohol and said, Let’s drink. “With this team, it’ll definitely turn out well. Twins.”

Jouta and Jouji looked up when they were called.

“I’ll show you the top. No, we’re going to experience it together. Look forward to it.”

Kiyose smiled like a fearless king.

After the drinking party had reached its climax, Kakeru quietly approached Kiyose.

“Haiji-san, your legs aren’t doing well, are they?”

“Why do you ask?” Kiyose gently countered and poured himself another drink. Kakeru was at a loss for words—there was no way Kiyose was going to complain, however doubts swirled in Kakeru’s chest.

Haiji-san told Yuki-senpai, “You won’t have any opportunities to do serious track and field after graduation.” Isn’t he really talking about himself? Isn’t he going into this Hakone Ekiden with the resolve that he’s not going to be able to run anymore?

He was scared just thinking about it. Not being able to run was the same as dying for Kakeru. He believed it was the same for Kiyose. And yet, he…

“There’s nothing like what you’re worried about.” Kiyose smiled and spoke, “Come on, you drink too.”

Kakeru couldn’t say anything and drank the alcohol Kiyose served him in one go, full of anxiety. Kiyose was wearing that padded kimono jacket with the frayed cuffs. Soon, Kakeru would have spent all four seasons with the residents of Chikusei-sou.

Kakeru recalled the night he met Kiyose for the first time—the night when everything started.

A strange feeling like nostalgia and longing sprouted in his chest.

---

The residents of Chikusei-sou continued to train wholeheartedly even into December and had a quiet New Year’s Eve together in their rundown apartment.

On New Year’s Eve, they went to a nearby shrine to ring the temple bell, and on New Year’s Day, they ate zouni made by Kiyose. (2)

The tension was building minute by minute, but even that felt good. It was because he wasn’t alone; in Chikusei-sou, Kakeru could feel the presence of the people he had been training and living with.

He wasn’t alone—until he started running.

He had comrades who were always, always, waiting for him to start running, to finish running and to come home.

The ekiden was that sort of sport.

---

At last, it was January 2.

The Hakone Ekiden began.

It was the end of the year-long battle the ten of them had been engaged in. At the same time, it was the beginning of the first and last fierce battle of the ten, which would be handed down as long as there was a Hakone Ekiden.

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#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations #run with the wind

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hajimewhore · 3 years

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Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 1.8k words ➷Humor, awkwardness, lots of swearing, more d*ck talk but mild mild nothing goes on, just very uncomfy, the secondhand embarrassment is real in there (like every part honestly) ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, ✈Part 4, Part 5

“Uh, this… isn’t what it looks like?”

Come’s your kneejerk response to Tooru’s exaggeratedly disgusted expression, you can tell he’s about 0.2 seconds away from throwing a fit.

“I went out of my way to wait for you, because I’m that good of a friend, you’re welcome. But you were taking so long, I figured I’d come in and drag you guys out. So. can someone please explain,” he shoots you (Hajime in his perception) a hard look, “What the hell is this?!”

Tooru is flushed in the face, and though his stellar performance and comical gestures were entertaining, you balk a bit at his outburst.

It’s a bit intense, and you feel a nervous sweat down your back. You can seldom say you’ve been on the receiving end of Tooru’s anger, and your struggling to come up with the right words to save face.

“I can explain?”

And what you came up with turned out to be excruciatingly underwhelming, and the baffled look Hajime sends you tells you that he also found your response pathetic.

Being in Hajime’s body with your hands clutched at his skirt, pulling away as if the garment was crafted using hot coals the second Tooru made an entrance, You’ll admit... it looked highly incriminating, and you’re going have some painful explaining to do.

“Well it looks like you’ve got your dirty hands on my bestfriend,” Tooru opts to refer to your actual self as his bestfriend, “What, Iwa-chan, can’t get any action? Trying to cop a feel before school? I didn’t think you were like that!”

He finishes the first segment of his rant with a huff. Under normal circumstances, you’d be appreciative of the rank up on his bestfriend list. Currently though, Tooru is getting under your skin, and as young man, you’re a little offended that he’s talking to you like that.

Tooru takes two strides (curse his long legs) across the threshold of your house, eyes narrowing in on you.

You glances to Hajime to ease the situation, he’s the only one that can say anything to help alleviate the situation.

Tooru follows your gaze, eyeing skeptically for an explanation. Hajime clears his throat, and you think you just might be saved. He’s always been quick to resolve altercations, whether its verbally or physically.

“....Hajime wanted me to wear my skirt shorter, but I said it was against school dress code.”

Hajime states as a matter of fact, and you gasp, what the fuck Hajime, but Tooru’s absolutely scandalized gasp overshadows your own.

“You asshole, that’s not—”

Tooru is quick to interrupt you,

“You absolute heathen Iwa-chan! Who knew you’d turn out to be such a dog!”

Tooru snags your collar with a tight fist, and you instinctively wrap your hand around his.

Uh... you’re not gonna have to fight Tooru, are you? It’s Hajime’s body, so you’d gladly let him get bruised up as retribution for that comment, but you’re not too keen on getting punched in the face by Tooru protecting your own dignity.

“It’s not like that!”

You scramble for a way to dig yourself out of this one. Tooru’s locked his glare on you, exuding pressure.

“Then what is it like Iwa-chan?”

You glance from Tooru’s scowl to see Hajime’s smug expression behind him, your brow ticks at the sight of it.

‘That little...’

Weren’t you just saying last night how excellent of an actress you were? Time to put that to the test.

You forcefully remove Tooru’s fist from your collar, adjusting your tie. Tooru allows you to gather yourself for a moment, scorn still etched across his features.

Averting your eyes to the side with a serious, contemplative gaze, you muster all the dramatics you can to pull off your next line. Internally, you think smugly that you must appear picture perfect for a drama noir film. If only it were raining too, that would set the atmosphere ideally. But an actress must work with what she’s got.

Tooru seems decently invested in your dramatics, and Hajime is looking at you with contempt, as if he drank sour milk. Now that a pregnant pause has settled in and you’ve garnered the crowd’s interest, you sigh, long and wistfully,

“She never wears her skirt like that... I thought she might be struggling with her self confidence, so I was just trying to make her feel comfortable with herself. I’m such a brute though, I guess I got carried away.”

You cast your gaze sheepishly to Tooru, rapping your knuckles lightly against the top of your head to emphasize your point.

Tooru blinks at the explanation, takes in the information, considers the evidence in his mind.

His eyes begin to water, as expected, tears brimming at his long lashes as he spins around to pull Hajime (AKA you) into a bone crushing hug. He’s got a suffocating grip on him, all the while crying about ‘Hajime’s’ reasoning.

“I didn’t even notice! Forgive your stupid bestfriend, I should’ve said something too! How did I miss that?!” his dramatics always seem to up yours, Tooru is currently stealing best-in-show from you, “Waaaah, I’m sorry, you’re perfect the way you are!”

He cries into what he thinks is your shoulder, no doubt using the fabric to wipe his face, much to Hajime’s disdain. Meanwhile, Hajime is glaring hard and venomously at you for that bullshit display.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

He mouths, and you stick your tongue out, giving him the cheekiest expression he’d never want to see on his own face.

“Whew, alright,” Tooru straightens, clearing his throat and flicking his last tear off with the swipe of a hand, “Now we really have to go. Hike that skirt up and let’s get on with our day.”

He’s back to picture perfect Oikawa Tooru, no evidence of his outburst to be seen (asides from the wet spot on Hajime’s shoulder).

You try to grunt in agreement as casual and Hajime-like as you can.

For the sake of getting to school on time without any further incidents, Hajime pulls the uniform skirt up a tad higher, vowing to lower it when you fucking nuisances are out of the picture.

Your final class is almost over, and you’re feeling.... extremely uncomfortable.

Not because the school day went bad, no, you found it easy to converse with his classmates and teachers. Notetaking was relatively simple, you’re learning the same material as Hajime anyways.

You’re physically uncomfortable, and the pressure of your bladder about to burst is driving you crazy.

‘I can’t take it any more!’

You shoot your hand up, and your teacher gives you an odd look before you excuse yourself to the restroom.

You head to the furthest end of the building, the women’s restroom is generally vacant so the men’s should be the same, yeah? And you definitely don’t want to be caught in the women’s, despite how empty it could possibly be. So with a heavy sense of shame, you waddle into the men’s room.

If someone’s in there, it’ll be fine. Just be in, and out. No big deal.

Oh.

Oh fuck no.

“Iwaizumi, hey.”

Matsukawa fucking Issei glances up to the door you just waltzed through. Matsukawa Issei, middle for the Seijou men’s team, tall and messy haired flirt, the same Matsukawa Issei that helps you with your blocks and techniques, friend of Tooru and Hajime... and he’s staring straight at you with a casual nod of his head.

You try to return it as casually as possible, despite your bones and every being shaking in you.

‘Fuck, I forgot men I actually know use the men’s room.’

“...Mattsu–” nope not Mattsun (so much for being casual, you almost fucked up the way Hajime refers to Matsukawa), “–kawa.”

He raises an eyebrow for the briefest second, before returning his attention to the urinal, unzipping his pants. Un. Zipping. His. Pants.

He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on the slip up, already entering conversation about how your day is, to which you give short response to, trying not to shuffle your feet to the urinal. You really don’t want him to catch on to your discomfort.

You heavily contemplate just going into a stall, but you think that might be weird for guys to do. Now that you think about it, isn’t it weird to piss in the urinal directly next to the other guy? If you chose one spaced out would he get offended? Goddamnit, you never learned men’s room etiquette. Screw this whole situation, and screw Matsukawa Issei for needing to relieve himself at this exact time.

Well, it’s too late now, you’re already standing at the one directly next to Mattsun. You can’t exactly take your sweet time picking another urinal and shuffling about while Mattsun is here engaging you in conversation about his fucking math class.

If it was weird to choose the spot beside him, Mattsun doesn’t say anything about it, going about his business.

Thankfully, if you could even be thankful for a situation like this, you’re so overwhelmed by Mattsun’s unexpected presence that it’s keeping your mind off the having-Hajime’s-dick thing. The discomfort is still there, but you have to pee so badly, you’re not too bothered by it at the moment. You’re also intently focusing on not blushing, willing the blood flow to your cheeks to cooperate with you for once.

Simultaneously, you’re concentrating on not looking at Matsukawa fucking Issei’s junk. You’re getting good at multitasking.

But apparently, not good enough. Your willpower wasn’t as strong as you thought, and your focus slips for a moment as you gaze down and–was someone going to tell you that Matsukawa fucking Issei was HUNG?

“Is there something wrong with my dick?”

You shoot your eyes back up to Mattsun, who’s tilting his head with a thick brow raised.

‘Hajime, if you hear about this, I am so sorry.’

“Nope, it’s perfectly fine,” you respond curtly, before coming to the realization that Hajime probably wouldn’t like you telling his friends that their dicks are ‘perfectly fine’, “I mean, no. It’s seriously ugly.”

You cringe at your save, if you could call it that, and Mattsun (finally) zips up. He casts a momentarily offended look at you.

“I think you mean ‘seriously huge’.”

He laughs deeply, heading to the sink. You completely agree with that sentiment, and you’re glad he knows he’s well endowed, but it’s best to keep those thoughts to yourself.

You follow suit, laughing as sarcastically as you can without letting your voice crack.

“Whatever, man.”

You proceed to have awkward sink talk with Mattsun, and upon exiting the restroom you thank the gods when you see his class is the opposite way to yours.

“See you at practice.”

He waves, and when Mattsun is out of sight, you sigh in immense relief.

Just how many dicks are you going to see before you swap back? You sob internally, returning to your class.

But that does bring up a point, Men’s Volleyball Practice.

You’re marginally grateful for that encounter with Mattsun, because now you’re acutely aware of the locker room changing time before and after practice.

You bury your face in your arms, taking note to sprint like hell and get to practice early. You’ll be damned if you have to spend any amount of time struggling to avoid eye contact with your friends’ abs, as well as Hajime’s other teammates'.

A/N: AHAHA the CHAOS. Anyways, we all know Matsukawa got that horsec*ck. Thanks for tuning in for this week’s episode of y/n’s awkward panic. Iwaizumi Is So Done.

taglist: @cybergovl @thatoneoddgirl8 @keijikunn

Masterlist, Part 5

#haikyuu!!#hq!!#haikyuu fic #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader

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blogsanscontext · 3 years

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A Closer Look at: Momoe Sawaki’s character arc; by a nonbinary (trans) viewer.

CW: Major spoilers for Wonder Egg Priority + mentions and discussion of sexual assault, transphobia, lesbophobia, self-harm; please proceed with caution.

Wonder Egg Priority came as a relatively pleasant surprise for me; I heard about it some time after the first few episodes aired, but I never actively went out of my way to ever try to watch it myself until, that is, a few days ago. I must say, I’m glad to have taken the initiative to experience such anime on my own.

With a stunning animation to accompany the heavy subjects this work touches on, I quickly fell in love with it; all the characters feel very grounded in reality, with their struggles (even someone like Neiru’s, who is a literal genius and CEO of her own company) feeling relatable in one way or another. Episode 7 became my favorite due to this very thing, Rika’s problems were things that not only have I seen in other works before, but that I know exist because of the stories told in the news every so often. It only helped, in my opinion, that they gave a character with her background such a hopeful ending.

That being said, Wonder Egg is not a perfect anime, and though I didn’t expect it to be in the first place, I do think talking about why some of the ways it handles a specific character of the main cast are problematic are worth the time. When I mentioned that “all the characters feel very grounded in reality”, I actually only meant three of them, a.k.a.: Ai, Rika and Neiru. The reason Momoe is not included in this group is what I will be discussing in the next paragraphs.

This anime lets you know, right off the bat, that it will not stray away from heavy subjects throughout the duration of its runtime; the show deals with suicidal idealization (and actual suicide as well as its aftermath; in fact, “female suicide” is at the very core of the show and is what essentially moves it forward), self-harm, sexual assault, same-sex relationships, transphobia, and being a gender noncomforming person in a society that punishes you for not adhering to the roles it has imposed on you since childhood. The last points are the ones I took issue with, however, and though they are mostly the show’s fault, they also took it upon themselves to make Momoe be at the center of all three.

See, when we are first introduced to Momoe, we can guess by context that she is a girl, however, the other characters aren’t aware of this fact yet, and so they seemingly go out of their way to call her a boy, which makes her deeply uncomfortable, and this (ie. her reaction to be treated or perceived as a boy) is a running theme throughout her arc. This, in itself, isn’t really the worst creative direction to take with a character, it’s a story that has been told time and time again, but there is a problem with the way Wonder Egg Priority specifically deals with it: Momoe is cisgender, and so far, there hasn’t been a sign of this changing whatsoever, so she will most likely remain cis until the show ends. Normally, a story about a gender noncomforming cis person wouldn’t be seen as anything out of the extraordinary, as I’ve mentioned before, but it seems that they wanted to… “innovate”, so to say, with her character. And it’s this innovation, in my opinion, that which makes Momoe’s struggles miss the mark for me.

Momoe is perceived, almost ridiculously so, as a boy by whoever even so much as stumbles upon her; her followers on Instagram most likely worship her because they’re under the impression that she’s a bishounen, and yet the show goes out of its way to deal with just how uncomfortable this makes her. This is the issue I take with her and her arc: the show has a keen awareness of AFAB people’s issues, and treats them with the respect they deserve (which is not to say some jokes at their expense aren’t made, but in general this tone is kept throughout the duration of the story), and yet the tone-deaf manner in which they deal with her issues feels… disappointing, to say the least.

Momoe’s struggles, though they are valid on their own, are not a societal issue, no matter how one may look at them; if she were a trans person (either a trans girl, boy, or nonbinary), the strong emphasis on her discomfort at being misgendered would have made so much more sense. The reason why ‘switching around’ the stereotype of a tomboy falls flat on its face is that there is no real pressure from society to present feminine, it’s what they want you to, or more accurately, force you to do if you’re perceived as being assigned female at birth; however, this is not where my issues with Momoe’s arc and character end.

At first, I imagined a variety of (albeit vague, still reasonable) reasons as to why this show couldn’t have just made Momoe be trans, and semi-understanding of this decision; that was, of course, until I watched the actual episode mostly focused on her struggles, and that’s when I got slightly mad. Being honest, I still think it was a good episode, and it definitely made Momoe seem way more sympathetic than any of her past appearances, but it also perfectly highlighted my problem with her, and subsequently, the show itself: using queer people’s actual, realistic, problems in order to push her, a cisgender character, forward.

The thing with Wonder Egg Priority is that I love how, despite all these girls literally risking their lives to save a specific person, they still seem to have conflicting feelings about them (ie. Rika’s mocking of Chiemi, Ai’s frustration towards Koito, etc.) but I also take issue with this when it comes to Momoe specifically; Haruka is very much intended to be seen as gay, yet when push comes to shove, we are supposed to be taking Momoe’s side in this conflict. We, the audience, see these events from her point of view, and are therefore made to feel, in one way or another, uncomfortable with Haruka’s attraction for her. Yes, Momoe has worked hard to bring her back to life, but the fact that she’s cis and heterosexual stands; this isn’t just exclusive to Haruka, however, but every egg she’s had to save in order to get her friend back. All of them express a clear attraction for Momoe, “despite her being a girl”, and it’s just very easy to read these attitudes as wlw-phobic, extremely so.

My biggest issue though lies within the very existence of Kaoru’s character, the trans boy she has to protect in the episode mainly focused on her; while he is an endearing and sympathetic character, and I like that despite him presenting ‘majorly female’, Momoe never misgenders him. The thing is: he’s made out to be almost a “parallel” of her own gender-related issues, and this is just a very tone-deaf statement to make; trans people fighting not to be misgendered, fighting to be called their chosen name (something Momoe, while being cis, can just freely enjoy) - trans people’s pain is very much real, which the show is aware of, but Momoe’s is very much an individual’s problem rather than the way society actually works, which Wonder Egg is seemingly unaware of, for whatever reason.

Before I arrive at my last point on why this comparison doesn’t work, I would like to quickly point out the fact that most, if not all, the eggs the girls have had to save until this point were specifically meant to be girls, in one way or another. Therefore, taking this into account, Kaoru makes me feel… a lot of things, the more time I spend thinking about it; the show acknowledges he’s a boy, though not cis of course, but still very much a boy, yet also places him in this very much ‘female’ space; no matter how I looked at it, I could find explanations both for an opinion in favor of this decision (the way a lot of trans men’s problems are defined by our patriarchal society seeing them as women) as well as some for an opinion against this decision (the fact that it could be read as the show ultimately deciding he’s ‘female-aligned’, etc.) and though I won’t be discussing this decision in-depth, I still possess that it’s an event worth examining from different lenses.

Now, onto the actual element that got me heated about Kaoru serving as a parallel to Momoe’s struggles: Kaoru was not only sexually assaulted by a man who’s always thought of him as a ‘pretty, delicate girl’, his death directly relates to the fact that he was abused and then impregnated by this man for not living up to his gross ideal of what a man and a woman are; contrast this to Momoe, who pretty much gets the treatment Kaoru would love to have: she’s pretty much right off the bat seen as a guy, she’s fawned over by women because of this fact as well, they literally call her ‘Momotaro’, etc. Taking all of this into account, it’s simply impossible for me to be okay with a comparison that ultimately decides a cisgender person’s discomfort is, in any sort of way, on equal grounds as a (might I remind you, dead) trans person’s basic human rights.

All in all, though her episode made me take a bigger liking to her character, it also served to almost perfectly highlight the very problem of her existence, as well as the “struggles” she’s intended to represent; I don’t hate Momoe in any sort of way, and though I know there must be someone somewhere who relates to her, I also think that they could’ve done something way more meaningful with her had they just made some changes that made her more realistic (as in, make her at least be LGBT rather than just cis and heterosexual); I will be patiently waiting for the finale, and who knows? Maybe something does change about her in the end, that would be even more of a pleasant surprise.

#wonder egg priority #meta #momoe sawaki

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kotoplasm · 3 years

Text

𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲:. 𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗯𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗯𝗼𝗸𝘂𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂

synposis. boxer!bokuto wants to spend the holidays with you after promising you that he'd make it memorable, which you hadn't expected would end becoming so ironical.

warnings::..; fluff (as usual).

bokuto was watching as your hands worked on the thin sliver of vermillion, tapered ends pricking the soft flesh wrapped around his wrist.

you've been at it for a five minutes now, sat on his lap on the sofa, leaving his eyes to wander from the mantlepiece to a picture frame then to you again.

it was odd. he asked you again, "what are you doing?" but you never answered with a comprehensible answer. instead you either nodded, mumbled something incoherent or remained silent.

was it payback for yesterday?

he hadn't replied to your message after finishing his match so instead of coming home to your voice, he was met with your sleeping figure on the couch, the tv replaying the highlights of his fight with his recent opponent (you couldn't pronounce the name).

frankly he was glad that you weren't awake. the medics on sight hadn't been able to stitch him up properly like usual as his main objective was to get back to you as soon as possible as he knew you would've been worried.

"it's just a scratch don't worry about it," he told you with a grin that he knew was due to the adrenaline from the wound. applying a little pressure to it caused him to let out a slur of hisses and curses to which you frowned, now glaring at him.

"it's just a little scratch?"

"it'll heal in a few days."

"you said that last time, and that bruise is still on your back kou."

"but it's faded!" and then he shows you, lifting his sleeve up to reveal the bruise that was still indeed there, now shifting between pink and red.

you didn't speak properly for the rest of the day, only speaking briefly during meal times and during the night.

when morning came you were already gone, leaving a note on the fridge briefly mentioning how you left home early to study the cranium somewhere in the library.

guess she's still mad at me huh....?

he feels a final tug and you're done, tying a final loop to finish.

"are you finally ready to tell me what it is that you've tied on my wrist?" he murmurs. it's a slur of words but it's loud enough for you to understand. "maybe what's on your mind as well?"

the stitches were still there, poking in and out of his skin. was it painful? of course it was. or else he wouldn't wince everytime he stretched that particular muscle or when you hugged him a little too tightly.

"i used to watch my mum tie something similar around my dad's wrist. in her culture, it symbolises safety or rather reinforces it whenever he left the country," you mutter into his shoulder, slightly adjusting your arms around his neck.

he knew where you were going with the answer. afterall, you've already tried to convince him to change his career choice. you never were quite content with the idea of watching your boyfriend's jaw turning slack after a clean right hook or watching his body lurch forward after a hefty punch.

"we've had this conversation so many times y/n. nothing is going to happen to me. i can promise you that much," he tries reassuring you but his words fall short when he feels something wet against his clothing.

"you don't know what will happen."

"kou it's dangerous."

"and it always will be. but i can handle the pain!"

you shoot up immediately, glaring at him. almost instantly, you press his abdonem, watching as his face contorts into one of discomfort, pain, irritance.

"what if the marks you get become much worse than this one? what if you'll have to get surgery?!"

"y/n it wo—"

"but it could! kou if you didn't get up after that last match you had, what do you think would have happened? i can't even watch your matches properly because i'm too busy worrying whether you're going to come through that door without any fatal inflictions or not!"

"i mean i get it. it's your dream. and i want to support you. but if you didn't get up that last time, i-i don't know what i would've done. i honestly wouldn't."

you're shaking. he grabs your hands, spreading the tips of your fingers across his calloused palms.

"you know what i'm working towards," he says. you nod.

"i can just get another job. i'm already managing everything else." he shakes his head.

"no. you're in your final year of college and you're graduating in a few months. not to mention exams. having to balance another job is going to be nothing but counterproductive.... did i use that word correctly?"

"...yes..." you fail to stop the small smile gracing your features. "you did."

"i just want to get to a point where i can be home more and finally find a better appartment to rent, away from that landlord who doesn't know what privacy or personal space is."

"i know but," you drag on the last syllables of the sentence. "that still doesn't stray from the fact that you'll get hurt."

"don't forget about this!" and he draws your attention to the ribbon on his wrist, tied by yours truly. "as long as i have this, i'll always find my way back to you, regardless of whatever shape i'll be in."

"do you really believe in that?"

your foreheads connect, breaths entangled and lips just merely a few millimetres away.

"well your father's still in that old couch of his so what's the harm in believing?"

a small kiss goes a long way as he's leaning forward to connect them, taking in your sweet scent. his thumb massages circles into your cheeks, pulling you closer as minutes pass.

he never truly appreciates just how much he loves having you in his arms, skin to skin contact giving him a sense of security and domesticity.

bokuto wonders how long he'll have to wait. you were both pretty young, too young in fact to get married (that's what you told him when he asked you what your answer would be if he got down on one knee and proposed at that instant.

"so it's not a no?" he asks.

"it's a, 'i'll say yes when we get a little older and you're much more certain on the idea of marriage,' bokuto koutarou."

the kiss falls short when you pull away slowly, lips still savouring the taste in a fixed pucker.

"you'll be back before christmas won't you?"

"if there aren't any surprise matches then i think so. even if there are, i'll just refuse and tell them that i need to spend some time with my s/o for the holidays."

"you don't have t—"

"no i want to. i want to spend christmas with you, right on this couch, doing the festive stuff that couples do. i'm not going to let my dreams get in the way of something that i cherish just as much."

when he sees that you've cheered up a little, he finally crawls away from your lap, fixing himself up to embark on his journey to the west. the train would arrive at the station in just a few minutes if there were no delays.

he's grabbing his suitcase and just about in the corridor up until he's facing you, wrapped in one of the blankets that were usually lying around on the couches.

he just wanted to be in your arms one more time as soon as possible.

"i'll text you when i get on the train." you nod. "and i'll call you before the match." you nod again. "and if the landlord comes around again, tell him that he should pass anything through me. i don't like the idea of that guy being so close to you during checkups and—"

"okay kou! just get going before you're late!" you're laughing now, eyes strained with fatigue. another kiss is shared, just a quick one involving bokuto pressing your cheeks together to peck them one last time.

"you'll get some sleep as well won't you?"

"yeah i'll try." which wasn't going to happen of course. you couldn't rest without knowing the outcomes of his matches. "i love you."

"i love you too." a grin wider than most was the last thing you remember seeing before he disappeared, leaving you to watch the tv one last time, basking in the emptiness that came with living with a boxer partner.

it got lonely sometimes. but you remember the red ribbon and how it's served its function for the generations that have passed.

the tv rumbles after an hour. a couple of pillows are stacked to supply comfort; a few blankets are wrapped around your body for heat.

the announcer introduces his opponent, another light heavyweight with hair that spiked up precariously. kou appears soon after, his silver and black tips falling over his eyes.

before the match starts, he looks straight into the camera to raise his left hand, the ribbon you tied making an appearance. the camera zooms into it. you laugh.

the look he gives wasn't to any of his viewers or the headlines would have said something. he's telling you that he'll be fine. to trust that he will.

so you do. the pillow in your arms is clutched tighter as the match starts. you're on edge but you try and calm your nerves. he was a reigning champion afterall.

you had faith in him as he did in you.

and sometimes that was enough to put your mind at ease.

(+) 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

(+) 𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗼𝘄 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲

#🎁 madness #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios #myworks #bokuto scenario #bokuto headcanon #bokuto x you #bokuto hq #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto koutarou hcs #koutarou bokuto #bokuto koutaro #bokuto koutarou

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e-vasong · 4 years

Note

Not sure if youre taking the whumptober asks but can I request #6 with five? 👀 Also sorry new to Tumblr so not sure if I'm doing this right lol love your writings btw!! ❤

Oh!! YES I LIKE THIS ONE. It is not October, but I’m not so much “participating” in Whumptober as I am just using it to kick myself into gear with writing.

I may kinda suck at filling prompts, even when I ask for them, but when I do...it takes a really long time because this was supposed to be 1000 words max and is actually like. almost 3000 words of shameless whump. WHOOPS. Most of this is under a cut, because it’s long and...well, whumpy.

TW: Torture, electrocution

No. 6: Please... “Get it Out” | No More | “Stop, please.”

“Hm,” Agent Finch laid the bloody pliers back on the metal tray with a clatter. “You’re as resilient as I remember, Number Five.” He sneered the words, hands tightening into fists at his sides.

Five supposed that Finch meant for that to be a threat, but he just couldn’t bring himself to take it seriously.

“Go ahead and hit me, Finch,” he gave the man an affable smile. “If you really throw your back into it, it might even hurt.”

The provocation worked. Finch did hit him, then. Right across the face. The force of the blow snapped Five’s head off to the side, slamming his skull into the metal back of the chair. The steel reverberated, the noise echoing painfully in Five’s ears. It did hurt, in a distant sort of way, but Five had found that being punched was always more jarring than it was painful. Not to mention the fact that it was just bad technique. After all, if you really rung someone’s bell...

Well, in an interrogation, where the goal was to disorient your target and trick them into giving you vital information, a concussion could be useful. But it was a poor tool for torture because it made it easier to zone out, to forget about the pain. And if Finch were any good at his job, he’d know that.

Five sighed. “Ouch,” he said, voice droll. He worked his jaw experimentally. Everything seemed like it was still in its proper place, though the movement tugged painfully on the bruise that had already started to blossom across his left cheek.

“You can’t fucking run, Five,” Finch said. There was a new speck of blood on his chin, bright against his salt-and-pepper stubble. “I know you. I’d say we have a good half hour before you can jump again; probably longer, with you in pain like this--” Five couldn’t repress the laugh that bubbled up in his chest at that. “Which is plenty of time for me to make you regret ever crossing--oh for fuck’s sake! What are you laughing about?”

“Oh,” Five rolled his eyes. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. You’re doing great.”

“What?” Finch’s hand returned to the metal tray, grabbing the pliers again. “Not enough pain for you? Fine. Another fingernail, then.”

Boring, Five thought. A sadistic appetite with no real vision or talent to follow it through, that was Finch’s problem. He watched with disinterest as Finch pressed the pliers against his left ring finger, readying himself to breathe through the inevitable pulse of pain that was coming.

“No!” The shout came with a clatter of chains and cuffs as Diego jerked against his bonds. Five jumped, and Finch did too, pliers slipping from his hand and hitting the ground with a clang. Huh. They’d both forgotten, somehow, that Diego was here too.

“You sick son of a bitch,” Diego bit out, the dramatic fucker. Five’s annoyance was practically a living creature inside of him. Diego’s hero complex was both entirely predictable and deeply unwelcome, since Five had this very much under control, not that Diego much seemed to care.

“Shut up!” Five and Finch snapped at the same time, voices overlapping as they spoke.

There was a brief lapse in conversation, the room falling silent as they both processed what had just happened. Finch whipped around to glare at Five, and Five glared sullenly back. He wasn’t about to be the one to break eye contact, but it was more annoying than he’d admit to accidentally end up on the same wavelength as his oldest and most incompetent acquaintance from the Commission.

“Why?” Diego said, responding only to Finch. “Because you’re some twisted fuck that gets off on torturing children?”

Diego could be dangerously intelligent when he wanted to be, but he was a bad actor under pressure. And this was a stupid, blatantly obvious attempt at provocation, even by Diego’s standards.

So of course Finch turned back towards Diego, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Diego,” Five said, a warning in his voice.

“You know full well that your brother isn’t as young as he looks,” Finch said, talking over Five. His voice was calm, but he was moving closer towards Diego as he spoke, successfully baited.

“Oh, sorry,” Diego said, yanking on his chains again defiantly. They rattled against the ceiling pipe above Diego’s head and Diego winced. The struggling was likely doing no favors for the discomfort of his position. “I guess that makes torturing him alright, then.”

“Your brother,” Finch said, “was supposed to be my backup on a job once. Instead, he shot me in the back and left me for dead.”

Diego, to his credit, looked utterly unfazed by Finch’s unfavorable and one-sided description of their former partnership, even though it was, essentially, accurate.

“Your back? Really?" He jerked his chin in Finch’s direction. “Damn, I’d have guessed he hit you in the face. Maybe he should have. Can’t get any worse than this.”

Finch punched him, which seemed to be his default reaction to everything that upset him, the neanderthal. His fist collided with a sickening crack, and Diego went limp. Five stiffened in his chair. For all that he’d critiqued Finch’s technique, the man was still a burly six feet, almost all of it muscle. A poorly-gauged blow--and Five did not trust Finch to gauge anything well--could do more grievous damage than Finch may have intended.

“Diego?” Five called. If Finch killed one of his siblngs, Five wouldn’t much care whether it was an accident or not.

There was a heart-stopping moment where Diego didn’t respond. He just hung there, limp and unmoving. Five’s breath caught in his throat.

Then a shudder passed through him, and Diego’s head lifted slightly. “”M fine,” he muttered, though he was clearly too disoriented to raise his head all the way. His eyelashes were fluttering as he fought for consciousness, and a bit of bloody spittle dripped from his mouth to the ground.

“Five’s right,” Diego said. He was slurring his words. That was bad. “That barely even hurt.”

But Finch didn’t respond to the jab this time, not the way that that he did when Five had resorted to the same taunt. Instead, he stopped to look at Five.

“Did you...?” Finch tilted his head to the side, looking thoroughly bewildered. And then his face split into a wide, almost hysterical grin. “My, my,” Finch said, and Five went stiff.

Finch’s smile was smug, like the cat that caught the canary, which was a disorienting turn of events. Five was used to being the cat, not the songbird, and he rather liked it that way.

“What?” Five said, terse.

“You almost sounded...God, what’s the word?” Finch said. “Oh, I know! Concerned.”

“About him?” Five scoffed. “In his wildest dreams.”

But it was too little, too late. Finch’s lips twisted upwards in a vicious grin.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “After all this time. You know, we used to gossip about you in the break room. Wonder if Five, the best assassin the Commission had ever seen and the Handler’s favorite little pet, had a weakness we could exploit. We never did figure it out. Who would have realized...” Finch turned back towards Diego and grabbed him by the jaw, tilting Diego’s head upwards as if to get a better look at him. “That it was something so...sentimental.”

Finch laughed. “I mean,” he continued, “we had some really crazy bets going. But this is just-it’s just--oh, don’t scowl at me, I’m trying to give you a compliment. I guess I really didn’t see this coming from you of all people. I didn’t even realize you had emotions. Other than, you know, anger and irritation. Those I knew about.”

Five opened his mouth. Finch hushed him. “Don’t lie to me, Five,” he said. “You should have heard yourself just now. That was the most scared you’ve been all night. You have a soft spot! All this time, I’ve been hitting the wrong target. You should have said something earlier.”

Five grit his teeth furiously. “Leave it, Finch.”

“No,” said Finch simply. He walked back towards Five, and Five knew better than to think that Finch was coming back for him. Instead, Finch gathered up a handful of cables, loose electrical wires sticking out of the rubber on one end, plugged into a large metal device on the other, and winked.

“Enough,” Five said, lowly. “Finch. Finch!”

“’S fine,” Diego spat. “I can take it, Five.”

No. Five struggled, but it was fruitless. Finch palmed some sort of button on the device, and the air around them filled with an electric hum. Finch strode idly back towards where Diego was strung up--the device was by Five’s side, presumably because Finch had meant to use it on him, but the cables ran long enough that Finch reached Diego without needing to pull them taut.

“Finch!” Five tugged sharply at the leather straps that kept his arms bound to the chair. No luck.

“Hm,” Finch was in front of Diego again. “Let’s try it out.” And then he reached out and pressed the exposed wires to a patch of exposed skin on Diego’s collarbone.

Diego tensed. Five could see the muscles in his neck clenching as he grit his teeth. He didn’t scream. He likely couldn’t, paralyzed by agony, but the anguished groan he made in the back of his throat spoke volumes.

Five twisted fruitlessly in his bonds. He heard something in his right hand crack, the thumb popping out of place. He wouldn’t be surprised, from the feel of it, if a few bones had broken too. But even so, the leather was simply too tight.

He couldn’t get free.

Finch held it for a moment, then pulled the cable away. Diego sagged, panting heavily. A few more tremors went through him, aftershocks as his body processed the pain.

“That all you got?” Diego slurred.

“No,” Finch said. “It isn’t.” But before he proceeded, he turned his attention back towards Five. “You see? All this over a couple dead civilians?” he asked. “You realize that I’m going to kill your brother, right? Was it really worth it?”

“Stop,” Five’s voice cracked. He pulled at his bonds again, paying particular attention to his now-broken hand. If he could just force it, he could get free. In his old body, he might have been able to do it--sure, it hurt, but pain was nothing in the face of the panic coursing through him. But in this body, he just wasn’t strong enough. “Please. Finch!”

“Wow.” That did seem to give Finch pause. He clicked his tongue, sizing Five up thoughtfully. “You know, the begging is a nice touch. It’s really making this whole experience a lot more enjoyable for me.”

Then he pressed the wires to Diego’s throat again. Diego twisted in agony, and Five knew that Finch wasn’t going to let up this time.

Diego was going to die. Five yanked against the leather straps again as he jerked forward, overtaken by instinct. It couldn’t end like this. He couldn’t let it.

And then he was free. With a flash of blue light, he stumbled out of a jump right behind Finch. Finch dropped the cable immediately, even before he turned around, likely recognizing the distinctive sound of Five’s warping. The live wire sparked on the ground.

Five didn’t bother with grabbing a weapon. Finch twisted around, and Five punched him in the face with his good hand. Finch staggered, though he caught himself on a nearby pillar of concrete before he could fall. But Five was behind him before he could regain his balance. He got an arm around Finch’s neck, braced his mangled hand against Finch’s jaw, and twisted hard.

Five felt the bone break under his hands, just beneath the brainstem. Even pained and concussed, his technique was perfect. Finch collapsed to the ground, dead before he even hit the floor, and Five had just enough wherewithal left in him to angle the corpse so it fell on top of the live cable’s exposed wires.

“H-holy shit, Five,” Diego said. Five’s heart twisted slightly at the sound. Lapsing back into his stutter like he was, Diego sounded so like the young, childish version of himself that Five had left behind all those years ago.

“One sec,” Five said slowly, lifting a finger to silence his brother. It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying, which was...a bad sign. The world had started swimming strangely around him, and adrenaline could only keep him upright for so long. But he needed to get them out of there.

He stumbled his way over towards the machine that the cable was hooked up to, hitting the button so that it shut off. Then he found the lever connected the chains that were keeping Diego strung up and pushed it down. The mechanism released, and Diego stumbled to the floor, hitting his hands and knees with a pained groan.

“Motherfucker,” Diego said, rolling his shoulders. He was still shuddering from the electric shock.

“I’ve got you,” Five said, trying to keep his voice steady. He made his way back over to Diego. The notion of collapsing beside him was tempting, but Five resisted the urge. “Come on, we gotta...we gotta go.”

“How-how’d you j-jump?” Diego asked. “I th-thought you were at your lim...your limit.”

“I was,” Five said. “Adrenaline. Hell of a drug.”

“What?” Diego arched an eyebrow. “D-dude, you like one-one of those moms that lifts a car when they see their kid is trap--” Diego had to stop and close his eyes for a moment. “Trapped?” he finished, more smoothly this time.

“No,” Five snapped. “That’s stupid. And it’s called hysterical strength.”

“Whatever,” Diego rolled his eyes, in a manner that clearly suggested that he didn’t believe Five but was too tired to push the matter any further. “Just d-don’t collapse on me, al...alright?”

“I don’t plan on it,” Five said wryly. And then his world listed off to the side. “Oh.”

He doubled over and threw up a mouthful of blood and bile.

“Shit,” Diego said, scrambling forward to steady Five as he sank to his knees.

“Shit,” Five echoed, and passed out.

***

He woke up in a hospital bed, a monitor of some sort beeping monotonously in the background.

Five sat bolt upright the moment his location registered. What the hell?

He wasn’t hooked up to much. There was just the IV sticking out of the back of his left hand, which was an unusual change of pace. Five turned and reached over to rip the IV out, only to see that his right hand was bandaged. Heavily.

Shit. He’d use his teeth then.

Five had just lifted his hand to his mouth when a bleary voice murmured: “Five...?”

He recognized that voice. Five blinked and looked up.

“Diego?” he asked. The burning panic in his chest extinguished, leaving only embarrassment in its wake.

This was clearly just...a normal hospital. Diego looked exhaustedly back at him from where he sat half-slumped in an uncomfortable-looking chair that had obviously been requisitioned from elsewhere and dragged over to Five’s bedside. He had an expression on his face like he wasn’t quite sure whether Five was losing his mind or not.

“What are you doing?” Diego said slowly.

Five hesitated a moment longer, then lowered his hand back down to his side. “What happened?” he countered, pretending like Diego hadn’t spoken.

Diego narrowed his eyes, but thankfully let Five’s evasiveness pass without comment. “Some Commission asshole kidnapped us. Spent some time making mincemeat out of us--mostly you--and then you warped so hard that you tore your stomach lining.”

Five did remember that, now that Diego mentioned it. Well, not the stomach lining bit, but that was presumably the explanation for the bloody vomit.

“Huh,” Five said. “Didn’t know I could do that.”

“Don’t fucking do it again,” Diego commanded, with all the presumptuousness of a child who thought they could get away with bossing around their elders.

“How long has it been?” Five turned narrowed eyes to Diego. “You should be in bed. You need to be monitored for cardiac arrhythmia.”

“It’s not--don’t worry about--”

“I fucking knew you were here,” hissed Ben from the doorway. Diego jumped.

“Ben,” Five said, relieved. Finally, someone with common sense. “Get this idiot out of here.”

Ben froze like a deer in the headlights, startled. His head jerked up to look at Five, and the irritation and concern clouding his expression evaporated as he broke into a relieved grin.

“You’re awake,” he said, soft and pleased. He stepped fully into the room.

“You can’t be serious,” Five said as Ben plopped down on the foot of the bed, gently pulling Five into a quick, tight embrace. “Both of you are ridiculous.”

“Oh,” Diego mocked. “How dare we be concerned.”

Five rolled his eyes and spread his hands slightly, gesturing to the hospital room around them. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” Diego said. “You look fantastic. Really, uh, in the peak of health right now, huh? Gonna go get up and run a marathon?”

Ben let out a little snort of amusement, and Five glared at them both, utterly betrayed.

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Five couldn’t ever remember being as relentlessly young and foolish as his brothers--or ever needing this much minding, for that matter. At the skeptical noise Diego made in the back of his throat, Five tilted his head to the side and said, archly, “Which one of us is still in bed and which one snuck away from medical attention, Diego?”

“Ah, fair point,” Ben turned to Diego, still smiling.

“Oh yeah?” Diego said, sensing that the tide was turning against him and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “And what were you doing when you were trying to rip your IV out with your teeth, again?”

Five straightened his back. “Diego,” he hissed, but it was too late.

Ben frowned, an expression full of worry and brotherly disappointment. “Five!” he said, clearly dismayed. Five wilted slightly. Was this how Klaus felt all the time? “Why would you do that?”

Five cast a sidelong glance at Diego. “I was just disoriented,” he said. “That’s all. And I’m better now, so it’s hardly worth getting riled up over.” It probably wouldn’t have taken him long to realize that he was just in a regular hospital once he made it out to the hallway.

Once he had...he probably would have gone stumbling off to look for Diego, Five could admit that much to himself. But he certainly didn’t need to tell his brothers that. No one could prove that he was lying.

“Just,” Five waved them both off. “Take Diego back to bed.”

“For fuck’s sake, Five,” Diego said. “I’m just worried.” Then, as if sensing that Five was not his best bet, he turned mournful eyes towards Ben. “Just a little longer, Ben. Then you can rat me out to the damn nurses.”

Ben’s lips twisted thoughtfully as he glanced between them. “A couple minutes,” he finally conceded with a sigh. “It’s not like you won’t just break out again anyways.”

“Ha!” Diego said, too loudly. Five winced, the noise aggravating the pulsing headache that Five hadn’t even realized he had. “...Whoops.”

Five glared.

“Sorry,” Diego’s voice was closer to a whisper now. He reached out, lacing a hand with Five’s and squeezing it apologetically.

“It’s fine,” Five said, ignoring the feeling of warmth that bloomed in his chest. “I’m not made of glass.”

“I’ll leave if you really want,” Diego offered. “We can let you get some rest.”

If he wanted. Ha. Five couldn’t pretend that getting some peace and quiet didn’t have an appeal, but...in it’s own sort of way, it was comforting to have family in the room. Irrefutable evidence that they were still living and breathing, so real that even all his years of knowing they were dead couldn’t override it. But Diego did need to go back to his hospital room; Five wouldn’t be the one to pull him from the care he needed. He refused. But for now...

Five sighed. “Fine,” he said, and squeezed Diego’s hand back. “Just for a few minutes.”

#the umbrella academy #tua #my writing #lONG #contemplating posting this on AO3 but. am uncertain.#also lmfao. me? recycling one-line villains from my unfinished TUA long fic #ITS MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK #anyways this is messy sorry about that #also i dont have a speech impediment! i did a little research but pls let me know if you see something about diego's stutter that can be #./should be better!

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