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youarejesting · 3 years

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Hope in the sheets.7

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 4.4k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: mentions a sex tape, mentions a birth tape

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“Ah! Ah! Ah!” This videotape felt dirty, Hoseok wasn’t sure why, but he was sweaty, his heart raced, as he tried to look anywhere but at the screen. The woman on the video kept making noises and heaven forbid he look between her legs. Was it warm in here or was it just him?

“As you can see the birth canal opens up wide to let the babies head come down and out and the shoulder here is the widest part, so you have to be careful to listen to your body otherwise you may tear, so here we go these are the final pushes and then the baby will slip out—”

“Hoseok, Hoseok wake up!” You called alarmed, Hoseok opened his eyes to see you and the birth class instructor standing over him.

“Don’t worry love, there is always one in every class who faints” The woman handed over some ice, “Put this behind his neck it will help slow his heart rate, nerves sometimes get the better of the soon to be dads”

Sitting up Hoseok sat up a little embarrassed, “sorry, I didn’t mean to faint”

“No, Hobi, it’s okay I feel nauseous as hell after that video too. That looks scary as hell I don’t think I can do it” you whined. “This class traumatized me more than it helped, and what do we get a couple of cookies and some watered down juice.

“You are so strong and I think you can do it?” Hoseok tried to reassure you and you scoffed.

“If you're so confident you push the baby out.” Hoseok paled again swaying on the spot and you laid him back down. “You are properly scared aren’t you?”

“I am horrified,” he laughed, “I am a big chicken”

“Honestly, I am scared too but I don’t get a choice Hobi, this baby is inside me and it has to get out somehow." you shiver after confessing the fear that had been building in the back of your mind. “If I wasn’t afraid of surgery I would install the old side door”

The gesture of a flat hand across your stomach made Hoseok smile sadly. He took your hands in his.

“I’m sorry that you have been dreading this. I will try to be someone who can eliminate your fears, little darling momma” he kissed your head. The instructor called everyone back to the mats and began explaining how to wash a baby and how to hold a baby for the first time.

It was a fun class but you were happy to get home and rest, biding Hoseok good night. He went quickly to his house where Jimin was sitting waiting for him with a hanging clothes bag.

“What were you so busy doing that I had to pick up your dry cleaning?”

“Y/n’s birthing class” Hoseok's face turned grave as he adopted a serious tone. “Jimin, don’t ever go to a birthing class. I don’t think I can unsee what I saw.”

“Haha, I’m not that silly, I know where babies come from. I am glad I am a man who likes men, so I will never step foot in a birthing class unless you pay me a large fortune. I mean I could watch someone give birth for money."

Hoseok shivered, making Jimin laugh at his expense. “You look pale, so let's change the subject. I bought Yoongi's old van. He sold it for some new equipment. That means I can get rid of the junk van I was driving before.”

“Can I have your old van?” Hoseok jumped on the opportunity.

“Uh sure, but I think it’s more money than it’s worth, you can have it for free because it needs new everything.” He shrugged “I was just going to make it scrapped metal”

“Yeah I can fix it up, I got some money lying around.” Hoseok yawned, “anyway thank you so much for getting my suit. I have my first day of work tomorrow, so I should go to bed early”

“Alright, but tomorrow night celebratory drinks for your first day?” Jimin clutched his shoulder.

“Of course,” Hoseok laughed, waving goodbye and carrying the suit to his apartment.

“Hey man, how was your day?” Jimin shouted from his newly acquired van from Yoongi. “Get in, we can celebrate tonight”

Jimin drove Hoseok home under strict orders to grab a nice change of clothes so the two could get ready at his house and go out celebrating Hoseok’s new job. Hoseok took the stairs two at a time leading to his apartment, his hand brushing past your old door. He missed you. He missed having you at his work, at his home, at his leisure. You two were inseparable and yet torn apart by the stages of life.

Hoseok had assumed you both would be single and somewhere in your mid-thirties you would just get married to one another for convenience. He grabbed some clothes and found the blacklight outfit you had bought for him, he pushed it aside trying to move on for just a moment.

Instead, he grabbed a classic black button-up and a pair of black dress pants. He placed the items in a bag and headed back down to Jimin waiting excitedly in the driver's seat. He drove them across town singing along to the radio and pulled into the driveway of a beautiful home. Jimin was a sugar baby and so he accumulated a lot of money with ease.

Jimin picked up the package by his doorstep curiously and read the name, his face broke out into a smile. Opening the box he found a beautiful pair of earrings. Hoseok paused, knowing Jimin had been talking about these types of earrings for a long time, but these ones looked handmade and a little cheap, not from a brand-name store like most of Jimin’s other clients would buy.

“They are so cute,” Jimin smiled, lifting the note, reading it aloud. “I don’t have money, so I don’t ask for much, it would just be a waste of your time. Even with this, I still want you to know that I think you are really sweet the way you always help others and never forget to share compliments to those who catch your eye. I will never forget how kind and funny, you are especially at work. The way you run your fingers through your hair unconsciously, how you pout when you think, the way you can glide across the dance floor with drinks without spilling anything. You disappear behind the bar with the cutest laugh and I am completely in love with you.”

“You have an admirer,” Hoseok looked over his shoulder at the letter before asking, “I wonder who it is?”

“I am not sure who it could be?” Jimin frowned, taking the box into a spare room filled with gifts. “They seem really nice”

Once the letter was placed carefully in the room, Jimin stepped out and decided to get dressed for the night. He paused in the doorway walking back and taking the earrings. “Even though they are cheap I think I should at least wear them.”

The two got changed and Jimin posed, “take a picture of me looking over my shoulder, so I can post a picture of the earrings on my Insta”

Hoseok picked up his phone and stepped behind Jimin, ready to take the picture of Jimin’s bare shoulder, earring, and side profile. He stopped when his phone came up with the stupid storage message.

Storage full!

You can free up space on this phone by managing your storage in settings.

“I can’t take a picture,” Hoseok sighed. “My phone storage is full”

“It’s okay, I should put on a bit of makeup to make the picture really pretty. While I do that, use my computer to plug it in and delete stuff. You can save the rest onto a USB, which you will find in the top draw. The USBs should be empty.

Hoseok watched Jimin stroll into the bathroom and thought he might as well take care of this storage issue on the phone. Plugging the device in, Hoseok began going through and deleting memes and stupid screenshots he no longer needed. He went through saving many photos of you, and videos the two of you shared together.

That's when he came across the picture of the two of you dressed in your black light outfits. Both of you looking happy together in the mirror. Hoseok saved the photo to the USB. The next was a blurry picture on the dance floor, he didn’t need that.

Deleting a range of blurred photos, Hoseok kept swiping through them until he came across a video of you and Hoseok walking home. He heard you giggling and unconsciously smiled. He honestly was so in love with you.

There were a few more blurred videos and then there was a video of you two laying in Hoseok’s bed. His heart started to race as he watched you lean down and kiss him in the video. Hoseok couldn’t remember any of this.

The next video was of you removing your dress but it continued, sometimes the phone was just left on the bed face down, at other points, it was lifted and Hoseok heard himself talking as he pointed the camera at you underneath him. “I love you.” He had filmed you while you two were having sex, “I love being inside of you too.”

Hoseok felt a little guilty, while you two were drunk he took a video of you both, not only that but he felt as if he took advantage of you. The next video was taken from behind and Hoseok felt ashamed of himself for the stirring in his pants.

“Are you watching porn?” Jimin laughed from the next room, confused as Hoseok switched to the next video. The two of you were cuddling on your side, Hoseok being the big spoon.

Hoseok's face fell. What had he just watched? His head was reeling with so many thoughts that he couldn’t process them fast enough. He understood that it was you in the video, and you were with him. It was that night. Were you his dream girl? “I slept with Y/n?” He blurted and like being hit with a truck he came to a shocking revelation. Hoseok shot to his feet and spoke out loud hoping it would help him make sense of the situation, “Am I, I think, I might be the father?”

“Oh, Finally!” Jimin shouted, his voice carrying into the office. “I have been waiting for you to figure it all out”

“What do you mean?” Hoseok said his stomach was feeling sick, he didn’t know if he wanted to vomit or cry. The betrayal setting in, “How did you know? DID SHE KNOW?”

Jimin stepped into the room, his lips pressed together in a thin line, with a look of pity on his face confirming Hoseok's suspicion. Hoseok got up, his eyes flashing around the room in a panic. He pushed past Jimin and grabbed the old set of keys from the countertop. Hoseok escaped and drove fast. He didn’t have a destination in mind but after a few minutes of driving he ended up at a park by Han River.

Shutting off the engine, Hoseok let his hands fall from the wheel, his head resting back against the seat, letting out a loud guttural shout. He let the tears fall freely as his sobs racked his body, every breath catching in his throat as if he was choking.

Hoseok wanted to scream, he wanted answers. They all knew. You knew. He thought he was your best friend, someone he trusted with all his secrets, and yet you kept something this big from him. The sick feeling in his stomach grew as did his anger and frustration with the situation.

How long were you going to keep this from him? When the baby was born? When the child was eighteen? Never? He had a right to know but all he wanted to know was why.

He left the vehicle, his phone ringing with your number but he turned it off. He walked to the nearest bar somewhere dark and quiet and he drank until he couldn’t see his hands.

“Hey mate you have to go, come on get up.” The bartender said, nudging him with an exaggerated sigh, “Mate can I call someone to come get you?”

“No one, my best friend is a liar, she is pregnant and didn’t even tell me it is my child,” Hoseok mumbled into the table. The bartender sighed again reaching into his pocket, “Who do you want me to call mate?”

“No need to call, I will go,” he said, pulling out his keys only to have them snatched from his hand. Hoseok turned to see Yoongi grabbing Hoseok’s things and thanking the bartender. “What do you want?”

“I got a distressed call from Y/n she is hysterical, I have checked in every bar and searched the nearby streets for Jimin’s old van. Yoongi threw the keys to Jimin who was waiting by the abandoned van and Yoongi scooped Hoseok inside.

Hoseok woke as Yoongi turned the key in the ignition they were headed for his home, but Hoseok had other plans. “You knew didn’t you?” Hoseok growled, “Take me to her."

“Not in this state?” Yoongi said definitely. “You are going to sober up, and then tomorrow you can speak with her.”

“You take me there right now, or I will get out of this car and go there myself!” Hoseok demanded, attempting to remove his seatbelt.

“Alright, alright sit down, I will take you to see her, but if you raise your voice at her I will knock you out and drag you back to your apartment." Yoongi turned to Hoseok with a menacing glare. "Do you understand?”

He nodded needing answers and he wasn't going to stop until you gave them to him. They pulled up outside your home and as he walked to the door he felt as if his legs were weak, ready to give way. He knocked with shaking hands.

He didn’t have to wait long for you to pull open the door eyes pink and swollen from your own tears.

"Hobi, I-"

"Please don’t talk, you had your chance. This whole time, and you didn’t… You didn’t tell me, little darling.” His voice cracked as he held up a hand to stop you, “it’s my turn to talk, you can listen to me.”

He watched you wipe the tears away, he wanted to comfort you, you were his closest friend. He loved you so much and couldn’t bear to see you upset. “You knew we had sex, you knew what we did and you hid that from me, you fell pregnant and you hid that from me?”

“I told you when I lost my virginity, I told you when I scratched my dad’s car, I told you when I took money from my fathers wallet, or when I stole your homework. I told you when I was moving from home, I told you everything good and bad.” Hoseok pulled out the phone and played the video, the sounds of you two together filling the air. “But you couldn’t tell me, your best friend, that we did this? That I might be the father of this baby?”

“Hobi, I wanted to tell you I was-” Your tears were relentless and it looked like the weight of the world was crushing you with guilt. You looked lost, he knew there must be so much you wanted to say and explain but the words escaped you. All you could think to do was apologize, like some sort of animatronic doll with one function.

“Wanted to tell me isn’t telling me,” he frowned. “Say it, is this baby mine?”

“Yes, you are the father?” You whimpered, holding your stomach. Hoseok didn’t feel better. He didn’t feel better confronting you or getting the truth. He didn’t feel better watching you cry. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You are all I have Hobi, and I love you.”

“I thought I loved you too. I thought I really truly loved you, that even though I wasn’t the father, I would step in if I could. It turns out the woman I fell in love with is nothing but a liar.” Hoseok turned away unable to see your face contort in pain from the words he was saying, “I am disappointed in you. You said you wanted to grow up, but this is so immature”

Demanding to leave, Yoongi took Hoseok and headed to the van once more, hoping that the two of you could rebuild your relationship. It was painfully obvious that you both were painfully in love, so much so, that it was breaking your hearts more to fight with one another, than over whatever the fight was about.

You had spent the rest of the night crying until pure exhaustion took over your body and you fell asleep. No matter how many times you texted or called you got no response. You had left almost fifteen voicemails before you became too hysterical to speak. You were emotional and trying your hardest not to break down long enough for you to think things through.

It took four days and sitting in the bottom of the shower for ten minutes before you came to a decision. Even before Hoseok knew he was the father, you had planned to do it on your own. You weren't weak and you knew for certain that you would be okay. You had planned to raise this child as a single mother, you had hoped to tell Hoseok before all this happened, but you had planned for it just in case something like this did happen.

You could do this without Hoseok, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt, that you weren't mourning the relationship you had lost. You picked yourself up and put on a brave face crying only when you were alone as you single-handedly funded Ben and Jerry's company with the amount of ice cream you consumed.

You arrived at the next prenatal appointment. You watched all the couples cooing at their bellies and the little sonogram photos, as you sat alone quietly rubbing your belly and thinking how much you loved this child.

It strengthened your bond between you and your baby. You were working hard at your job, not ready to go on maternity leave as you didn’t know how financially stable you would be. You also worried because, without the distractions of work, you realized how alone you truly were and how much you missed Hoseok.

You wanted nothing more than to go back in time and take it all back. You wanted to get the courage and tell him. You would give anything to wake up beside him the morning after and just let yourselves deal with the aftermath.

Your mother's words echoed in your head, only able to be drowned out by the sound of your baby's heartbeat through the doppler, as the ultrasound technician measured your sweet little baby girl.

She had done no wrong and deserved only good things. It was on your way home from the scan that you decided to enter the baby boutique. You knew you were filling a Hoseok shaped void in your chest but you didn’t care, purchasing clothes, socks and shoes, and a tiny beanie all in mint green, white, or grey. At the checkout, you saw a small personal travel doppler for eighty dollars. It wasn’t as strong or as reliable as the one at the clinic but you bought it anyway.

It was the first thing you did when you got home, you put the gel on your stomach and pressed the doppler to your tummy, and listened to the tiny heartbeat and the swishing of the umbilical cord. The tears didn’t stop and that heartbeat in your belly was the mantra to which you swore to live your new life.

You were no longer living for yourself, you were living for your daughter, whom you loved so dearly. You stopped looking for Hoseok through the seventh and moved into the eighth month of your pregnancy feeling semi-okay.

Called by the marketing director to meet with the client, you followed him with documents, “Why did you pick me?” you asked

“You are the only one fit for this job,” He said, which made you feel odd, surely the pregnant lady wasn’t the first choice. However, you obeyed his orders, grabbed your coat, and followed to the restaurant where you were met with an unbelievable sight.

There was Hoseok standing by a beautiful woman dressed in a suit. Not only was it a punch to the chest, but it also left you self-conscious, resembling a chocolate egg. The way your body was so rotund did not do wonders for one's self-esteem.

Hoseok didn’t notice you until you stepped up to the table, your director announcing your arrival and greeting the young woman with a kiss on each cheek. “This is my hardest working assistant Miss Y/n,” The director said and you wondered again why he had chosen you to accompany him to the meeting.

“Well let’s get to business” the client smiled. You sat at the table and they brought out menus. “I will have the salmon en papillote, with a nice chardonnay.”

“I will have the same,” the marketing director said, attempting to look cool but you weren’t so sure.

“We will have the Steak au Poivre, I will take medium rare and she will have hers well done. What is in the side salad?” Hoseok asked and you looked up over the menu shocked by his audacity.

“We use a mesclun mix for its various colors and textures, with Lebanese cucumbers and avocado for a fresh and creamy taste and a drizzle of classic french vinaigrette” the waiter smiled politely.

“Skip the salads and instead vegetables would be preferable for both.” Hoseok closed the menu and looked up, the waiter looked at you for confirmation and you nodded handing over the menu.

“Have you two met before?” The client asked curiously and Hoseok shook his head, “It’s just you ordered for her?”

“She is pregnant so the best meat option is beef well cooked, and the salad would most likely make her sick due to the acidity in the vinaigrette.” Hoseok continued, “the vegetables, though plain, will be easier to handle and will benefit her better than a salad. It is something I learned in a birthing class once”

“Yeah, and you haven’t been back since.” You scoffed, drinking your water trying to calm yourself so you didn’t explode with anger.

“I didn’t think I had to, seeing as I am not the father of any children.” He said dryly back and you stood up throwing the napkin at him, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t care if he didn’t like you and refused to acknowledge your presence ever again, but saying that about your child was not okay.

“You take that back, Hoseok." You almost shouted but restrained yourself due to the setting, Hoseok didn’t appear to move and you tilted your head back and took a shaky breath. “I am sorry, it seems I am feeling ill, allow me to leave first”

You stepped out the door and headed down the road trying to find a cab when a hand grabbed your arm. Disappointed when it turned out to be the marketing director. “I rescheduled our meeting, I am sorry, you had to deal with something like this, it must be stressful being so pregnant”

He touched your belly and you were a little uncomfortable. This man was a little too interested in your pregnancy. At first, you thought he was just a nice boss who was looking out for you, but it was clear he had some strange thoughts running through his mind.

When he said he would drive you home, you told him you had an appointment. Even then he was determined to take you to the appointment, but you waved down a cab and jumped in quickly. You arrived at Jin and Tonic for a much-needed appointment.

“I want a drink” you sighed and Seokjin gave you water and you looked up seriously. I want an actual drink Jin, I am going through the worst year of my life.”

“Worse than the time you tried to become a volunteer at a homeless center, where some weird lady cut chunks out of your hair, so you had to shave it off?"

"Then you got into a fight with Hoseok because he drew an arrow on your head while you were sleeping and everyone called you Aang,” Jimin added as he shed his small jacket, showing off a pretty choker chain necklace with a rose pendant. “Cause you said that was the worst year of your life.”

“This is worse,” you said. “At least I was the one angry at Hobi and I forgave him quickly, now he is angry at me and even denied being the father of our baby. That’s not even the worst of it. My boss has some sort of pregnancy fetish and keeps trying to touch my belly and I am not here for it”

“Pregnancy fetish?”

“It’s not sexy, I am swollen from the neck down, I couldn’t see my feet this morning. I just hope I wore the same shoes. My bladder is so squished I am peeing all the time, I am hormonal and sweaty, and I can’t fit into my favorite pajamas.” The hysterical sobbing was muffled by the bar and it made Jimin giggle behind his hand. He walked around to give you a hug and Jin presented you with an ice cream sundae in an effort to cheer you up.

“Dance with me, pretty lady,” Yoongi said, finishing his drink and taking your hand. He led you to the dance floor where you were slow dancing like you used to. “You are still as pretty as always. Okay, you may not feel beautiful right now due to all those things, but I promise that you are.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You tried to get close enough to hug Yoongi but your belly prevented you from doing so, he stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around you slipping his hands under your belly and swaying. He was trying to take some of the weight to relieve some pressure on your back. “You are amazing,”

“I am, aren't I.” He laughed, swaying you softly.

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remuswriting · 4 years

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interviews; o. tooru

Summary: Oikawa leaves a terrible first impression on Y/N, Seijoh’s newspaper editor, when the volleyball team gets to be featured in the paper.

Pairing: Tooru Oikawa x Male! Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 5,043

Notes: I have worked on a newspaper and had to do so many interviews, and Oikawa’s magazine interview annoys me. I wonder if it was him or the interviewers, which is what created this. Two things; my journalism writing is rusty and I’m not the best at writing Oikawa, sorry.

The Newspaper Club was a club that many people avoided because of its dictator editor L/N Y/N. This didn’t stop anyone from reading it, because all the stories were actually really well done and extremely interesting, and the editor had changed the formatting into a magazine style. Since L/N had become editor, the magazine expanded into different categories and had weekly polls to see what people wanted to see more of and what they wanted to see less of.

“Everyone wants to see an article about the boys’ volleyball team, L/N,” Sakura, a first year who wrote for lifestyle, said as she brought the polls up to the editor. He sighed and his face fell into his hands.

“I’ll have to interview that brat Oikawa,” the editor groaned, and the first year didn’t understand why that was a problem because it was Oikawa Tooru. “He is the worst at interviews. Or maybe those who have interviewed him don’t understand how to actually ask questions.”

Masaru, the head of the editorial section of the paper, walked over to move Sakura farther from the h/c haired boy. The ginger girl got the cue and walked back over to her desk to start working on some articles. The brunette boy next to his friend wanted to complain with his friend, because in a journalism perspective; Oikawa was annoying to deal with.

“What if I just interview Iwaizumi?” Y/N asked as he looked up at the other, eyes glimmering at the new idea before he dropped his face again. “But Oikawa would just complain that he isn’t getting any attention.”

“L/N you could always just have someone else write the story,” Masaru said, only for the h/c boy to scream into his own hands, which made all of the club members look over at the two.

“I’m the sportswriter; it has to be me. Also, I’m the only one who understands volleyball shit in here.”

“Oh yeah, your older brother played volleyball, right?” Masaru asked, and the club members went back to what they were doing when they noticed that their editor wasn’t going to have a breakdown.

The h/c haired boy placed the right side of his face to the side of the desk, looking up at the other with his pretty e/c eyes. Aobajohsai’s newspaper editor was pretty and if he wasn’t so aggressive and so in your face, more people would see how pretty he was. Masaru had to see it too much, and sometimes it was hard to talk to his friend when he looked cute.

“I’ll talk to their coach tomorrow to go to their practice to take photos and interview Oikawa, as well as some of the other members,” Y/N said, and Masaru realized it had been quiet between them for a few minutes. He also realized the editor didn’t answer his question. “So, you’ll have to hold down the fort here, even though everyone works independently.”

“Okay.” He hand ran through L/N’s hair to calm him if he needed to be calmed anymore. “Get to work now, Mr. Editor. We’re all carrying your slack.”

“You really piss me off sometimes.”

*****

Although the boys’ volleyball coach agreed to Y/N doing things for the magazine, he was faced with how he was supposed to do all of this. He had done the majority of the other sports clubs, but this one had Oikawa Toru, aka the guy who had been in magazines before, which made him have so many fangirls. If the h/c haired boy even barely messed up on this, then all those girls would come after him ready to kill.

L/N walked to the gym with his bag full of things he needed when doing articles and interviews. Masaru had once said he looked ridiculous, but Masaru rarely did interviews so Y/N never took anything he said to heart. The squeaky shoes in the gym rang out to where the editor could hear them clear as day practicing. Or about to practice.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t watched on their matches, whether it was practice or official. Y/N really did love volleyball, but not in the way to join a team or actually learn how to do anything in it. The h/c haired boy just enjoyed watching it and how sometimes he could even feel the adrenaline radiating off the court.

“N/N-chan is here!” Oikawa called out, and the editor wanted to strangle the other for the stupid nickname. Their coach looked over at the third year writer and stood up from where he was seated.

“Okay, everyone,” the coach said, all players immediately looking over to him. “L/N is going to interview Oikawa and maybe a couple others but everyone else is to practicing while he does so.”

“I’ll also be taking some photos while you practice,” Y/N said, making the boys look over to him now. “It’ll be like I’m not here. Tomorrow I’ll be taking what’ll look like professional pictures of you all. You’ll be wearing your uniforms and it shouldn’t take maybe 20 to 30 minutes.”

“What’s this for?” Kindaichi asked, and the h/c haired boy smiled slightly.

“You guys get to be in the magazine this issue. You only have to deal with me for two days, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Everyone nodded before they went off to practice, leaving Oikawa and L/N alone for the interview. The brunette setter smirked at the other, obviously trying to be flirty and the other just stared at him confused before he pulled his bag out in front of him.

He grabbed his notebook, pen, and tape recorder. A lot of members of the newspaper club usually used their phones, but the editor hated using up storage on his device. He usually put photos on there that the magazine occasionally used but took most photos on the club’s camera.

“Is it okay if I record this?” Y/N asked as he looked up at the other, who was only looking him over.

“Of course, you can record anything we ever do, baby,” Oikawa said, and Y/N forced a smile instead of punching the other. It was just an interview.

“Great, now we need to get somewhere I can sit, so I can write easier. We don’t want to mess up anything in the team’s article.”

“You’re free to sit on my lap.”

Y/N closed his eyes as he bit into his, wanting to scream. All he wanted to do was write this article and the boy in front of him was ready to make it far too difficult for him to do so. So, he chanted in his head that it was just an interview and it would be over soon.

“No thank you.” He sat in the floor and placed the recorder next to him and motioned for the other to sit on the floor with him. “It won’t pick up your voice that well, sit down.” The setter sat in the floor annoyed and sighed. “Okay, let’s get started; what got you into volleyball?”

Oikawa looked like he was actually thinking of an answer, which gave the editor some hope that all of those interviews he had previously done had been full of stupid questions. Sadly, that wasn’t the case.

“Sports uniforms attract cute guys like you,” he said, and Y/N gave him another forced smile.

“We’ll come back to that question when you can think of something better than that.” He placed a star next to the first question, so he’d remember that answer was garbage. “Why did you pick Aobajohsai?”

“It’s close to home, and it also has you,” Oikawa responded as he placed his hands on the floor and leaned back on them.

Another star next the question.

“What’s your favorite part of volleyball?”

“It led me to meet you,” the setter responded and the editor slammed his notebook into the ground in between them.

“Are you serious?” Y/N asked, annoyance in his voice, and the setter nodded. “Is this interview a fucking joke to you? I’m taking time out my day that I could be editing articles that people actually worked on, and your responses are this? Maybe Iwaizumi-san would be a better person to interview for this and say we only wanted to focus on vice-captain instead of both of you.”

Oikawa looked at the other a little freaked out. He had never spoken to the other but he had always found him incredibly attractive and had seen how compassionate he had been towards others. Maybe the rumor of L/N being a dictator was right, even if the third year hadn’t believed it until now.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa mumbled before speaking up. “I’m used to questions like what I want in a girl and my favorite color.”

“Okay, just please actually try to answer these,” Y/N said before he let out a deep breath. “What got you into volleyball?”

“I went and saw an exhibition match between Argentina and Japan in Sendai with Iwaizumi when I was in elementary school,” Oikawa started, and Y/N was trying to write and fully comprehend what he was saying at the same time. “When Argentina put Blanco in, he just made everything work, you know? He brought balance back to the team.”

“Blanco is a really good player,” Y/N said with a smile, and the setter looked at him confused. Most people didn’t know who he was talking about usually. “Do you want to bring balance to your team? Make everything work?”

Oikawa smiled slightly at the thought of being like the man who inspired him.

“Yeah, I really do.” He lifted a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Setters are the ones who can restore balance to their teams if they do everything right, and I hope I’m doing that for our team.”

“I think you are,” Y/N said with a smile. “Now, that kind of goes into this question, but if you weren’t a setter; what position would you play?”

“I’d love to be a libero, they’re pretty badass, but I don’t think I’d be good at it.” He paused for a moment, and the interviewer knew he wasn’t done speaking yet. “Probably a middle blocker, because I have the height and I’ve already done it before.”

“Liberos are badass. My older brother is a libero, and he’s a badass.” It was obvious Oikawa wanted to ask who his brother was, because that meant L/N was probably really into volleyball. “I think that’s all I’ll ask you. I know there were other questions, but I don’t want to write about everyone’s answers to the same questions.”

Oikawa watched as the other turned off the recorder and it put in his bag along with his notebook and pen. He didn’t want this to be over, because he knew Y/N would go back to not acknowledging the setter’s existence.

“Let’s go on a date,” the brunette blurted and the other looked down at him confused. “We go on a date and then start dating.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said as his expression became even more confused. “I’m just not interested, especially in someone who tried to wreck the first part of an interview.”

Oikawa stared at him and wasn’t sure on what to do. No one ever really rejected him because he was used to being the one who always got confessions. The h/c haired boy standing above him wasn’t going to give him a confession though, and that slightly broke the setter’s heart.

“Just think about it.”

Y/N offered a hand to pull the other up and Oikawa took it, hoping maybe physical contact would make the editor want to be with him, and the two were so close. L/N took a step back before he smirked slightly.

“I’m most likely not going to think about it, but you could grab Iwaizumi for me when we go back to where everyone is practicing,” he said with such a sweet voice that Oikawa wanted to bang his head into a wall.

That sweet voice was only ever reserved to those who the editor wanted to deck in the face. If any of his club members were there, they’d try everything they could to get Oikawa out of the situation. Instead, if the setter said one more thing to piss the h/c haired boy off, then he’d probably lose it.

“Okay,” the third year captain said and the other smiled at him. “You sure you want to interview him?”

“Yes, I would’ve preferred to have interviewed him first.”

Silence fell over them as they walked to practice, and Oikawa kept looking over at the other, who was now on his phone. Masaru had texted to ask if the editor had killed anyone yet and Y/N had to admit that he thought about it multiple times.

“When you’re ready for that date, just tell me,” Oikawa said before he went to someone else, and Y/N wondered if he should’ve killed him. Would’ve made all of this so much easier.

Y/N’s fake smile dropped to show his irritation. When the wing spiker approached him, he could see that Iwaizumi looked amused. The editor raised an eyebrow at him, which made the dark haired third year chuckle.

“So, you rejected Shittykawa?”

“Yeah, is there a problem?”

“Not at all; it’s actually pretty funny.”

*****

The next day when Y/N entered the gym to get the team to take photos in the photography room, where everything was set up. Iwaizumi was the one to greet him as well as the two first years, who looked fairly nervous. The h/c haired boy thought it was ridiculous for them to be nervous, because photos weren’t hard.

“Where is everyone?” Y/N asked as he looked down at his watch, he had scheduled this to be before their practice. He didn’t want to take up too much of their practice time.

“In the club room. Oikawa is trying to make them look pretty,” Kindaichi said, and the third year editor laughed into his hand. The three in front of him looked at him a little shocked because he actually looked cute unlike yesterday when he looked annoyed yesterday.

“Can you take me to the club room, because I don’t want to cut into your practice time too much,” Y/N said with a soft smile that made Iwaizumi feel on edge.

He nodded and took the editor to the club room. He feared the boy was going to freak out, because Oikawa had said the h/c third year had snapped at him during his interview. The ace opened the door to reveal Oikawa messing with someone’s hair, and he looked over at his shoulder to see e/c eyes staring into his soul.

“Hey, we really need to get going with these photos,” Y/N said, no anger in his voice. He wasn’t upset, because it seemed that Oikawa just wanted everyone to look good in their photos. “I understand trying to look nice, but it would be good to fix hair and everything in the photography room.”

“Oh, okay,” Oikawa said as he stepped away from Yahaba, whose hair definitely did look better. “We can finish when we get to the place.”

“Thank you, Oikawa-san,” Y/N said before turning around to walk away from the club room to go back to the two first years the third years had left behind.

“Who was that?” Watari asked with a shocked expression. “He wasn’t like that at all yesterday.”

“He wants to make sure we don’t miss too much practice, because he promised coach he’d be quick,” Iwaizumi said as he looked over at Oikawa, who looked lovesick. “What’s with the stupid expression on his face?”

“Mr. Editor didn’t yell at him,” Hanamaki said as he laughed slightly. “He doesn’t know how to function.”

“I mean, he’s kind of hot when he’s angry,” Matsukawa said as he put his jersey on. Oikawa looked over at him and pointed a finger at him.

“Don’t you dare try to take him away from me,” Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi started laughing.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself dumbass. Let’s get to going,” Iwaizumi said, and everyone left the club room before Oikawa and Iwaizumi. “Stop pouting. You didn’t give a great first impression, which is normal for you. Try making up for it.”

*****

Y/N wasn’t skilled with a camera like he was with photoshop. Thankfully the photography club knew that and helped him set up the backdrop and put the camera to the correct settings. The only part they couldn’t help him with was positioning and poses. It wasn’t that it was exactly hard, but he was the head editor and graphic design person for a reason.

“We will do individual shots, and if we have time, then we can also do some other shots as well,” he said once everyone was in the room. “I also need you guys to cooperate, because this isn’t my strong suit.”

“Then why do you do it?” Kindaichi asked, getting hit upside the head by Kunimi. “I’m just curious.”

“I edit all the graphics, and I struggle to explain how I want the photos because I don’t know what I’ll be doing until I have the photos,” Y/N explained. “Also, that’s a valid question to ask, so there’s no reason to hit anyone.”

Kunimi looked down at the ground, embarrassed, and the h/c editor shook his head with a small smile. Sure, this wasn’t his area of expertise, but he spent so much time in this room that it felt like a home. He felt like he could be more himself here than when he was in the gym.

“We’ll have Oikawa go first, you brought a volleyball, right?” He asked, and Yahaba handed the brunette a ball. “Okay, you’re going to stand on the black piece of tape. I’ll have you do a couple poses.”

The brunette nodded and the editor looked through the viewfinder, figuring out how close or far he needed to be away from the captain. It didn’t help that the setter was 6’ while the editor was not. He fixed the zoom and took a step back.

“Okay, we’ll do a couple basic volleyball poses,” Y/N said with a laugh. “My brother’s favorite is holding it with two hands around your abdomen.”

The mention of Y/N’s brother made Oikawa want to ask who it was. There seemed to be a smile reserved for the mention of the older L/N, and the brunette wanted to know all about him. Instead of asking anything, he posed the way the other wanted him to.

“Give me a smile,” Y/N said as he had his camera up to his eye. “We don’t want you to look like you hate everyone.”

“I just have to think about you to smile,” Oikawa said, and the editor gritted his teeth as he took the photo and looked at it.

“Stay in that position, but now smirk. The smile may have been a tad too much.”

“My attraction to you isn’t too much,” the captain said, and all of his teammates felt embarrassed for him.

“I’m going to make a rule that you have to shut up or else I will butcher only your photo,” Y/N said as he continued to take photos. “Now, hold the volleyball out in front of you with one hand.”

Oikawa remained quiet, upset because he was just trying to be himself but he got so nervous around the h/c haired third year. It was hard to think of things he said to his friends when a cute boy stood in front of him that he really wanted attention from.

“Thank you, Oikawa-san,” he said before he looked over at everyone else. “We’ll go in numerical order, so number two; you’re up.”

Iwaizumi hit Oikawa upside the head, which L/N acted like he didn’t see. He didn’t hate the captain; there was no valid reason to. Y/N had to admit the brunette was slightly amusing to be around, but he made things much harder than they needed to be. Maybe he just hated being inconvenienced. That was most likely it.

*****

Two days later the article was done and the third year stopped by the volleyball gym with a couple copies of the magazine. It was something they always did if someone was in the issue, because it seemed polite to give them a copy in person. The team was about to start practice, which was what the editor had hoped for. A couple of the players stopped to look over at him with the magazines in his hands.

“Hey, I thought I’d drop these off for you guys,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I think your graphic turned out pretty badass, also thought your parents may want a copy.”

“Thank you, L/N,” Iwaizumi said before Oikawa entered the gym to see the h/c haired boy with the magazines, and a smile broke out on the captain’s face.

“L/N, you have the magazines!” Oikawa nearly squealed, which made the editor chuckle.

“Yes, you get to read your interview and see your face as many times as possible,” the editor said with a smile, and Kunimi looked at the third year curiously.

“You seem happier than usual,” the first year said slowly. “Did something happen?”

“I got a call from my brother earlier; we don’t get to talk much. Just be glad that happened before I got here, because I was in a pretty shit mood before that.”

The mention of his brother made Oikawa look over at the editor, who had a smile on his face. He also wasn’t in his uniform but a blue t-shirt and black jeans, which looked strange on the h/c haired third year.

“Okay, I’ve got to go. I have to stop by other places to discuss next issue,” Y/N said before he put the rest of magazines on the floor. “Have a good practice!”

Once the editor left, Kindaichi grabbed one of the magazines and flipped to the volleyball section and his expression changed into one of amazement. He had never looked at one of their magazines before, because there was never anything for him to read but L/N’s sports section looked cool.

“The article is so long!” Kindaichi exclaimed, and Iwaizumi took the copy that Oikawa had picked up to look at it.

“He put all of our scores from the last tournament as well as our interviews,” Iwaizumi said as he flipped to the next page. “I wonder how hard it was to find all of this.”

“He probably goes to the games. He’s mentioned his brother is in volleyball a couple times,” Hanamaki said as he looked at the graphic. “Mr. Editor made me look good unlike he did Shittykawa.”

“Hey! Don’t call me that!” Oikawa said with a pout. “It’s so mean.”

“Wow, he made Oikawa seem like a decent person,” Matsukawa said before he clearing his throat.

Oikawa Tooru is this year’s captain for the volleyball team, and he is going beyond the responsibilities of what a captain should be. It is obvious he motivates his team to be the best they can be just as they motivate him back. His passion for the sport is so strong that anyone is able to feel it if around him for long enough, especially when it becomes to why he loves being a setter.

“I went and saw an exhibition match between Argentina and Japan in Sendai with Iwaizumi when I was in elementary school,” Oikawa said. “When Argentina put Blanco in, he just made everything work, you know? He brought balance back to the team.”

He wants to bring balance to Seijoh’s team just like Blanco did for Argentina’s team. It is obvious that he does bring balance to his team when watching them in matches. In June, Seijoh’s boys’ volleyball team made it to the finals, but ended up losing to Shiratorizawa. No matter the end result, Oikawa showed that he is a phenomenal setter and captain.

“Wow, I didn’t know you actually cared about us,” Hanamaki joked, and the brunette ignored it as Oikawa continued to read the article.

“I didn’t think he’d write about me so highly,” he said, and Iwaizumi hit him upside the head.

“He’s the editor, of course he’s going to write about you highly,” the ace said as he rolled his eyes. “Did you think this was a joke to him? He didn’t get pissed at you for no reason.”

Oikawa stared at the article, unsure on what to do. Sure, he hadn’t fully meant to be an asshole or a nuisance, but he also hadn’t expected the article to highlight him so well. He gave him bullshit answers in the beginning, but he imagine he would’ve been able to make the article perfect either way.

“I’m an asshole,” he mumbled, and the other third years laughed.

“You sure are,” Hanamaki confirmed.

*****

Oikawa searched for the editor the next day to find the h/c haired boy on rooftop, staring at his phone. He had headphones in and the brunette noticed the other was watching a volleyball match on his phone.

“Fuck, they could’ve blocked that if they just fixed their stance,” Y/N mumbled, which the captain found slightly adorable. “Good thing he was able to receive it.”

Tooru slowly sat down to be next to the other, who looked over at him before he handed him a headphone. The brunette took it, noticing the other had paused the video, and put it in his ear.

“This is the UPCN San Juan vs Lomas Volleybal,” Y/N said before he played the video again, and Tooru stared at the phone, confused as to why the other was watching international matches.

Once he started watching, he noticed how the libero brought balance to the team. He was crazy, receiving everything that came his way and things he had to run after. It took a moment, but the captain realized that was L/N Yuki, the libero that was causing all the rage in Argentina and Japan.

“Holy shit, Yuki is your brother,” Oikawa said, and the other boy looked over at him and nodded.

“Thought you would’ve figured that out before now, but yeah he is,” Y/N said with a smile. “He actually came here for school, which is why I decided to come here.”

“Do you know how cool it is that he’s your brother? I heard the national team wants him,” Tooru said with bright eyes. “He can receive anything. He could probably even receive Ushiwaka’s spike.”

Y/N looked at the paused video before looking back up at him. He realized that the dumbass brunette in front of him didn’t have people’s skills until he got excited or really knew the person. The editor would like to say he was the same, but he was only comfortable with his family and Masaru. With everyone else he was an asshole.

“I remember when he was in Panasonic Panthers and there was that setter on Osaka Blazer Sakai that was obsessed with setter dumps that didn’t get one successful one because of Yuki,” Oikawa rambled. “I remember wanting to be a libero just to piss off setters, but then I thought that I could be a setter that pisses off liberos with my setter dumps.”

“Let’s go on a date,” Y/N said, not ashamed of cutting the other off, because Oikawa’s mouth had been opened to talk. “Tell me all about your favorite volleyball moments on a date.”

“Are you being serious?” Tooru asked, and the h/c haired boy nodded.

“I’ve realized you have no people skills outside of trying to be charming,” he said, which made Oikawa look like he had been stabbed. “You’re passionate about volleyball though, and I imagine your people skills will get better the longer we know each other.”

“So, you’re really going to go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said as he raised an eyebrow. “You’re making me reconsider though.”

“No!” Oikawa exclaimed as he waved his hands around. “Don’t do that!”

“Okay, stop asking me if we’re really going on a date,” L/N said before he clicked out of the video and handing his phone to the brunette to put in his information. “I’ll text you and we’ll figure out when our date will be.”

Oikawa put his number in, nerves eating at him. He wasn’t used to people like Y/N liking him, because they typically didn’t. He knew he could be a lot and not everyone was interested in that, but the editor seemed to not mind too much.

“Stop being so nervous, Oikawa,” Y/N said with a laugh. “I should be the nervous one because your fangirls may find out and want to kill me.”

“I doubt they’d kill me.”

“Whatever you say, captain, but I’m pretty sure they would.” Y/N put his hand out with an impatient expression. “Can we continue watching the game, because you know we’re not really supposed to have our phones.”

“Yeah, of course,” Tooru said, and he noticed it was an old game. “When is this from?”

“Yesterday,” Y/N said as he put his earbud in and looked over at the setter, his e/c eyes glimmering. “UPCN San Juan won, but I didn’t get to see it because it was so late here when it was on.”

“You spoiled the ending!” Oikawa exclaimed and the h/c haired boy laughed, forehead pressing into the other’s shoulder.

“We can’t watch the entire hour and a half right now,” Y/N said as he gave the brunette the other earbud. “You also have practice later.”

“I don’t,” Tooru said immediately. “We don’t have practice on Monday, so we can watch it later together.”

Y/N smiled at him before he took the earbud from Oikawa and looking down at the black screen on his phone. Blush covered his cheeks, but not enough to where the captain would be able to tell, which was a good thing. He looked up at Tooru with a bigger smile.

“Let’s watch UPCN San Juan kick ass later, okay?”

Oikawa let out a breath that had gotten caught in his throat from the other’s smile before he smile and nodded.

“Let’s do it.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu fic #oikawa torū #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x male reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru x male reader

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jemelle · 3 years

Text

codes to a heart

derek morgan x penelope garcia

rated t // 2.2k words // one-shot

summary: Things to avoid when creating a phone password: 1. A common set of numbers. 2. Personal information that’s easily searchable. 3. The birthday of the co-worker you’ve been in love with for almost as long as you’ve known him.

(Penelope has never been one to follow advice.)

a/n: i do not pretend to remember anything about early 2010s technology, nor did i bother to research it. unbeta’d- comments and concrit welcome!

my masterlist

read this story on ao3!

Penelope’s phone password is Derek’s birthday. She knows that it’s unsafe, is more than happy to lecture the other agents on proper cybersecurity (iLoveHenry is very cute, JJ, but it’s not exactly secure), but she just can’t seem to force herself to change it. Every time she goes to unlock her phone, she smiles, the four numbers a constant reminder of everything that Derek is to her.

The first time Derek asks what her password is, she panics. She’d been the one to hand him the phone, wanting to show him a picture of a cute dog she’d seen on her way to work that morning. But too much time must have passed since she last tapped the screen, because the next thing she knows he’s waving the black screen in front of her.

“What’s the code?” he asks, and Penelope freezes, wondering if he’ll recognize it as soon as he hears the numbers, if he’ll understand why.

“Give it to me,” she says, holding out her hand. In response, Derek holds it above his head, out of her reach. If she didn’t love him so much, Penelope might almost be mad.

“What are you worried about, babygirl?” His tone is teasing, and Penelope doesn’t want to imagine what his reaction might be if he really knew. “Afraid I’ll find something… incriminating?”

“Just give it to me, please?” Penelope watches smugly as her puppy dog face wins him over, just as it does every time. She punches in the code, then hands it back to him, panic receding as Derek begins to coo over the photo.

The two of them are on their way to Rossi’s, and they’re running late. Penelope’s driving, because Derek’s car may have broken down, but she’s damned if she’ll let anyone else drive Esther.

“Tell Rossi we’ll be there in ten minutes,” she says, not taking her eyes off the road. The others have teased her for being such a cautious driver, but she can’t help it, not when she sees danger around every corner.

“Okay,” he responds.

Penelope continues driving. Beside her, she can hear Derek rummaging around, sounding increasingly irritated. When they pull up to a red light, she turns to him. Derek’s searching the footwell, but he looks up immediately, as if he can feel her gaze.

“I must have left my phone at home,” he says. Derek had called her half an hour ago, asking if she could take him to the party. Penelope had jumped at the opportunity, even though it meant going out of her way.

“You can use mine. It’s in my bag.” Her purse is in the backseat, slightly out of reach. Derek twists around to reach it, forearm grazing hers. At his touch, Penelope’s insides seem to grow tiny, fluttering wings. She shushes them firmly.

The light turns green and she presses down on the gas, sending the car into motion once more. A moment later, Derek finally finds her phone. He grabs it triumphantly before sitting back in his seat.

Penelope is a stickler for the speed limit, which is possibly the only thing that saves the both of them when Derek says: “What’s your code?”

She jolts, hitting the accelerator a little too hard. Terror rises in her throat as the resulting force presses them against their seats. Penelope makes herself ease onto the brake and take deep breaths until she can feel her heart settling.

“You okay?” Derek asks when they’ve returned to the previous speed. Penelope nods mutely.

Her heart starts up again as she remembers what he needs. She could wait for another red light, but they’re in the suburbs now, so stoplights are few and far between. She could pull over, but that seems like a gross overreaction. Penelope is a fully-grown woman. She refuses to be humbled by a crush, even if it is a crush on the best man she’s ever known.

Penelope gives him the passcode a single digit at a time. She’s almost sure he’ll know by the end, every moment taking her close to the point of no return. As she says the last number, Penelope braces for impact, not knowing what awaits her on the other side.

In the end, Derek says nothing, and she’s too scared to ask if he missed it or if he’s just trying to let her down easy.

Spencer, on the other hand, definitely takes notice. They’re in the bullpen, Spencer sitting on his desk while Penelope spins absentmindedly in his chair. He watches over his shoulder as she unlocks her phone, eyes narrowing in thought. She’s just tapped the final number when he opens his mouth:

“Isn’t that Mor–” Penelope claps a hand over his mouth to keep him from revealing her secret to the entire bullpen. Damn his stupidly perceptive brain.

He’s still speaking, words muffled by her hand. Before Emily, JJ, or, god forbid, Derek can notice, Penelope takes her hand away, shooting him a warning glare. Wisely, he shuts up, at least until they’re both alone.

When the whole team breaks for lunch, Penelope drags Spencer into the nearest storage closet, ignoring his protestations.

“I love you dearly,” she whispers. “But if you say anything about this…”

It’s not really a threat so much as it is a plea. If Spencer says anything, she’ll lose whatever dignity she still has. Penelope isn’t stupid: she’s heard what the office gossip mill has to to say about her and Derek. She’s pretty sure there’s even a pool on if and when they’ll get together.

If this gets out, people with much less intelligence than Spencer will be able to figure out this attraction is unrequited. Her friendship with Derek, once sweet, will become pathetic. She doesn’t even allow herself to think about what Derek would say.

Spencer holds his hands up in surrender. “Your secret is safe with me.”

The fact that she didn’t even have to explain why it matters to her is one of the many, many reasons she adores Spencer Reid. As long as she cares, he cares.

On his way out of the closet, Spencer turns back to her. “He loves you, you know that?”

Of course she does. But, despite the strength of Derek’s love, he doesn’t love her the way she does, deeply and recklessly and without regard for the safety of her soul’s inner reaches.

It’s Penelope’s birthday, and the team has thrown her a party in the conference room. As the birthday girl, she isn’t supposed to lift a single finger, so Penelope sits in the chair of honor while the others cater to her every whim.

Earlier, JJ had slid a plastic tiara into her hair, telling Penelope she was queen for the day. Penelope couldn’t resist beaming at that, an extra bounce enfusing her step. She thinks she might make wearing one a regular habit.

Penelope’s chair, positioned as centrally as it can be, given the circular table, is decorated with a multitude of sparkly ribbons. Spencer is sitting to one side of her, but today Penelope only has eyes for Derek, who sits on her other side.

It’s magnetic, the way he moves. As she watches, Derek laughs at something Emily says, eyes crinkling and head tilting up to expose the long column of his neck. At this rate, Penelope is going to drop dead before it’s time to eat cake.

She makes it to the cake phase of the party, though not without a great deal of effort. Derek, for his part, is determined to make it as difficult as possible. As JJ brings the cake out, he rests his hand on her arm. It’s the kind of casual touch they do all the time, but today it feels like a brush of fire.

The team sings to her, voices clashing as they try to harmonize in six different keys. When they’re done, she blows out her candle, making the same wish she always does. Let the people I love stay safe.

She looks at Derek when she’s finished, and there’s something in his gaze that makes her unable to look away. His eyes are full of love, the kind she wants to last forever. When he turns away to say something to Hotch, she makes a second, selfish wish. Let him love me the way I do.

The party has mostly finished by now. Emily’s begrudgingly peeling streamers down from the ceiling, having been informed by Hotch that they constitute a serious fire hazard. Derek and Penelope are standing in the corner, reluctant to return to work.

Emily exits the room, and Penelope knows they should too. The crimes don’t stop when they take a break, no matter how much she wishes they did. Penelope adjusts her tiara, steeling herself to go back to invading the lives of perfect strangers.

Derek walks her back to her office, arm around her shoulders. She leans into him, his presence an always-welcome comfort. When they reach her office, he lets go of her. She pushes open the door, turning back to look at him.

“You should probably go,” she says, and he nods. Standing there before her, he looks so earnest, so gorgeous, like everything she’s ever wanted. In her mind’s eye, she sees a million futures with him, a million timelines where he loves her back. And it’s her birthday and she’s tired of wanting, so Penelope lets herself think for a moment that those futures might be possible.

She opens her mouth to say goodbye and that glimmer of hope intervenes.

What she means to say is I love you, the same words she’s uttered a million times to him. What comes out instead is: “I’m in love with you.”

Holy mother of all Freudian slips. She tries desperately to figure out what to say, but her mind goes blank. Her first instinct is to take it back, but her throat burns at the thought of having to pretend she doesn’t really love him.

A small part of her is relieved that it’s out in the open, but the rest of her wants to lock herself in her office for several days. Why did she have to go and fall in love with him in the first place? Why wasn’t she satisfied with what they had?

She swallows dryly, but doesn't say anything, watching Derek for his reaction. He’s staring at her, expression inscrutable. Penelope flushes, counting down the seconds until she’ll have to execute plan barricade-self-in-office. There’s only five seconds left on the clock when Derek makes his move.

“Penelope, I want to show you something.” Derek holds out his phone and she takes it, confused. Is he going to pretend that nothing happened? That’s somehow worse than anything he could say.

She turns on his phone, only to be met by the lock screen.

“What’s your password?” she asks, because she should probably say something at some point. She doesn’t quite register what she’s said until he responds.

“What do you think it is?” he says, infinitely gentle.

Oh. Penelope slowly types in her own birthday, not quite daring to believe that might be what he means. Sure enough, his phone unlocks, opening to reveal his background, a terrible selfie they had taken together.

With some difficulty, Penelope manages to compose herself. She swallows hard. “What… what was it you wanted to show me?”

He takes the phone back from her, holding it in front of her face. “This, Penelope. Don’t pretend you don’t know what it means.”

Penelope lets out an entirely undignified squeak. Here it is, the thing she’s always wanted. Proof that Derek loves her back romantically. Every plan she had for this moment, every grand gesture, flees her head completely, heading for the next galaxy over at warp speed. She reacts instinctively, stepping closer to him until only a few inches separate them. The point of no return is receding rapidly in the distance.

Derek puts his hand under her chin, tilting her face up. Penelope thinks there might be tears in her eyes, tries to blink them away before he can see them.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and she restrains herself from screaming ‘YES’ at the top of her lungs.

She whispers her agreement instead, almost reverently.

He kisses her, lightly, and Penelope swears she can feel actual stars forming in her eyes. It’s everything she’s ever dreamed of, only her dreams could never measure up to reality, the way Derek pulls back slightly, running his thumb along her bottom lip before kissing her again.

This time, they break away only when air becomes a necessity. Penelope rests her head on his chest, delighting in the knowledge that if there are more more journeys to make, more challenges to conquer, she won’t be alone. Truth be told, she’s never been alone as long as she had him.

Above her, Derek lets out a startled, “Hey!”

Penelope looks up, following his gaze to where Emily is standing, holding up her own phone, streamers dangling from her other hand. When she notices them watching her, Emily gives them a wave.

“Sorry!” she says, not sounding sorry at all. “I need proof for the pool.”

Usually, Penelope would march over and make Emily delete those photos, but today, she couldn’t care less. Instead, she leans up to Derek, grin so broad it could split her face in two, and pulls him in for another kiss.

taglist: @elleroodles, @lizziechase, @blakes-dictionxry

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #penelope garcia #morcia #*mine #*fic

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ziracona · 3 years

Text

[The Kid -- (FGO AU) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, ?]

Not surprisingly, Ritsuka doesn’t have a lot of information on the building, but she’s got more than I expect, and some pretty solid-sounding educated guesses. Mostly, I’m just worried about my end. That we might not have enough firepower to push through a bunch of mages, especially if I can’t start getting more mana from her. If I fail, and go down in there, I’m getting resummoned to living hell, and she’s probably dead. That’s about the last thing I want, so I need a good plan before going in. Lucky for me, reckless but effective underdog plans are kind of my thing.

Snacking on her rice porridge, I try and work through that while absorbing information. …Figure the first thing I should do is see if there are other servants already summoned in there. I should be able to sense that, once I’m a little less dead. If there are, freeing them would add a lot to our fighting forces—wait, no, they’ll probably be about dead, and she can’t heal them because she doesn’t know how. And she can’t anchor more than one probably, since she’s doing it totally solo. So, they’d just die and vanish... Though, she did say…

“Hey,” I say, interrupting a breakdown of personnel she knows of in R&D. She’s actually really good at this planning stuff too—drawn me a little chart and everything. Her profiles might not be the most photo-realistic, but damn if they aren’t still effective in their own way at conveying what people look like—I’ve seen some of these mages, and I can pick them out from her little doodles on sight. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a few things I want to ask—one I meant to ask a while ago; they know you did this?”

Ritsuka looks surprised, then nods, chagrined. “Yeah. I mean, probably. I was able to cause a really good distraction, but there was no way to block the cameras, and I had to use my own card and get recognized to make it in the front at all, so, they do or they will really soon. That’s why I came here, instead of my apartment,” she adds, gesturing to the motel, “I tried to pick a list of hotels and motels I wouldn’t pick from usually, and then I chose one randomly from that list, and paid in cash. I hope that’s enough to make me harder to find.”

I don’t know if it will be myself, but I’m impressed she thought that far ahead. Maybe she has a knack for life on the lamb herself. Not a bad little escape plan.

“I’m kind of worried about Mom and Dad,” she adds quietly, glancing at her hands, “I haven’t talked to them at all, because I thought it would put them in danger, but what if it does anyway?”

Oh. I watch her, and the pain and fear there she’s trying to be brave about. She…isn’t just nice, and good, and a bleeding heart; she’s sacrificed a lot personally to help me.

“Won’t happen,” I promise firmly, “We’ll take care of things before that.”

“You sure?” she asks worriedly, trying to stop her eyes from getting misty.

I nod. “Promise. They won’t go there first. They’ll be lookin’ for me, and worried about me comin back right now. Then they’ll try to locate you. Family is more useful if they can just tap the phones and see if you contact—probably won’t even risk spooking them for a while. We got some time.”

That reassures her, and she looks a lot better. Returns my nod.

“…Wait, when you said ‘distraction’ a minute ago,” I say, that little detail clicking late.

“Oh,” she says, “Yeah. Well. I needed the power to go out in the building, and people to not be guarding you so I could get in. I couldn’t bypass doors or alarms, because I don’t know magic or tech stuff, so I had to make sure the whole building was on emergency protocol to make it easy for staff to evacuate to get in there at all. I couldn’t do that any fancy trick way, so, I looked up how to make a bomb and blew up a storage wing on the second floor I knew was empty.”

Holy shit.

“I-I checked the building schematics and asked several people you had to pay online to make sure it wasn’t a big part of the structural integrity!” she defends anxiously, misreading my response, “I made sure I wasn’t gonna knock down the building or kill somebody!”

“No—I’m impressed!” I say, lighting up, “That’s genius!”

“Really?” she asks.

“Hell yeah!!” I say, “Smart to not pick ground floor either. Means they know the threat came from inside the building—it’ll throw ‘em into a panic. And taking out the power? –You taught yourself how to make a bomb?”

“It actually wasn’t that hard,” she says, flushing, “…kind of scary how easy, actually. I had to get components from all different places, and pay in cash so my bank wouldn’t get suspicious, but. It was easier than I thought.”

Damn, she does have a knack. A strong one.

“You’d’ve made a damn fine outlaw,” I say.

For a second she seems to be unsure if that’s meant as a compliment or an insult, and then she hesitantly grins back. “Yeah? Huh. I’m not used to people thinking I’m good at stuff.”

From the far-away look on her face I don’t think she really meant to say that out loud, so I grin and answer before she has a chance to realize it. “Guess you never found something that interested you before.”

She glances at me and nods. “So, what else did you want to ask about?”

“Oh—your circuits. You said you possess a lot of mana?” I ask, “You find out any more about that while doing research there?”

“I did,” she says, passing me my eighth chocolate and unwrapping one for herself and munching on it, “Basically, they told me I’m super weird, and it’s like my body is tapped into a family lineage crest with more magic than it knows what to do with. But I don’t even have a mage crest!”

Not totally sure what that means, but I nod like I do because I get most of it from context.

“So, they say it’s like if I had a connection to a big like, whole lake full of mana. Waaaay more than even mages from good bloodlines have. But my circuits aren’t designed to access it all.”

“So you can’t get at it?” I ask.

“Well, this is gonna sound stupid, but it was the version that made the most sense to me,” she replies, “One of the assistants told me it was like if you had a whole lake of mana, but you could only get any of it out with a garden hose. It’s all there, but it’s just…not designed to be used all at once. They don’t think I could probably ever throw it all into one big spell attack, even with years of training. But, I’d have the most amazing mage stamina they ever saw. They said in a Holy Grail war I might be ridiculously weak at offering any combat support, but I could support all seven servants at the same time on my own if I tried, and then some!” She flashes me a big grin, very proud of that.

Interesting. “So. It’s not tirin you out?” I ask, “Our contract?”

She shakes her head. “I can barely tell. I can’t tell at all energy-wise. I just can feel there’s a connection there, kind of like an invisible thread.”

“Wow. You know most mages can barely support a servant outside a situation with extra support like the grail offers during a war, right?” I ask her.

She blinks at me. “For real?”

I nod. “I hear it’s exhausting.”

She stares at the far wall, then extends her arms and looks at them in wonder.

“You think you could support another?”

Ritsuka glances back from her hands. “Another servant—spirit?” she corrects. It’s cute—girl keeps refusing to call us that even though I do it so automatically. I nod. She nods back. “Yeah, easy.”

“How many you think you could do at once?” I ask.

“Uhm. …I don’t know. Twelve?” she guesses. Holy shit that’s a lot. “Probably more. But definitely at least that many if they all feel like this does. Why?”

I glance down at the little hand-drawn map sitting on the bed. “Because if they already got more servants in there, and we pick ‘em up as we go, a lot of our problems with this plan go away.”

“But, I can’t really support any of them,” she says worriedly, “I’m barely giving you enough to heal you slowly. None of you will be able to use much magic to fight.”

“True,” I reply, “But one of us can do a hell of a lot even without access to a noble phantasm. And more importantly, they won’t know how limited we are. That’s an edge.”

She thinks that over. “…Yeah. I. I guess it is…It’d throw them off, and make them feel overwhelmed and probably get them to panic.”

I nod. “Only problem is healing one of us enough we can get going.”

“Oh yeah,” she says, hopeful expression falling.

“I know you don’t know that kind of spell, but if there’s somewhere we could get stuff to do it for us—some mages use Mystic Codes or enchanted objects, right? I don’t guess you know of any—”

She’s shaking her head. “I’m sorry,” she says miserably, “I don’t even know where in Ur-shanabi something like that might be stored.”

Damn. I was really hoping. …

“I’m sorry I’m useless,” she says quietly, looking down at her hands and the seals there.

“You aren’t,” I reassure her, “I’m just as useless at magecraft as you—more. You’d have been better off with a caster. They’d actually know how to help. But we’ll figure somethin’ out.”

She’s still looking at her hand. Straightens up a little and turns it to inspect, then looks over at me. “Could I heal one of you with a command spell?”

“Yeah, I think,” I say, “But only twice, before being out of ‘em for good.” Mages all consider the last one one you don’t use, anyway. It’s the safeguard—the threat you keep so if your spirit turns on you, you can put us down. The loaded gun. I don’t bring that up though, because she probably knows, and as long as I’m up, she ain’t gonna need it, even if one of the others decides to cause her trouble.

“Right, and there might be more than two in there,” she says unhappily, lowering her hand.

I’m thinking back hard as I watch her, running over everything I’ve ever heard from a mage or a caster about how any of this works. I want to help. I want this to work, but I also want to repay what little I can. I wish Geronimo was here…

“…I know there’s supposed to be ways to fix the problem you’re havin’,” I offer after a second, wishing I knew more and had more to offer, “Someone who knows magic should be able to teach you to use it better, and that’d fix the problem, but I can’t do that. …What you need is someone who can. … You got any idea how to summon one of us? I could help you find a leyline, and-”

She’s shaking her head again. “I don’t know how at all. And it’s not something I can just look up. …I could try, but. I don’t have any artifacts, or practice, or knowledge, and it would probably just be dangerous and I’d draw attention to myself.”

I think hard. “We could try.”

“How? We don’t even have a source of power? You need a lot of mana at once to try and summon a heroic spirit without something like a grail present. I saw a little part of the summon circle at Ur-shanabi once and it was HUGE. I’ve never even felt so much magic in one place—”

“Wait, all you need is a big burst of mana?” I ask, suddenly excited.

“What? Uh—yeah, but I mean big. Way big! Big like I couldn’t do—”

“—But I could!” I insist.

She stares at me. “But…how? You can’t use a noble phantasm without disappearing, because I’m bad at supplying mana.”

“No, no other spirit could use their phantasm like this. Me? I can,” I say proudly, a slow smile starting.

“What?” says Ritsuka, “How? That’s impossible—what do you mean?”

“You know, I’m starting to think this whole thing bein’ you and me was for a reason,” I say instead of answering outright, snagging another little chocolate from the tray and giving her a smile as I do, “See, I don’t really have a noble phantasm, actually.”

“Wait, what??”

“Well, I do, but only kinda,” I explain, “It’s not an object or a chant, it’s the act of me firin’ my colt a specific way, so, it’s a noble phantasm technically, but it’s technically also just a skill, and it’s more technically a skill than a phantasm.” I am so god damn proud of myself right now—the look on her face is amazing. This feels great! “Not having a traditional one ain’t always the best thing, because it means mine is a real split-second kinda deal, but it’s damn powerful for that split second. And since my phantasm is more just a part of me than a specific act or item, it costs way less mana than any other noble phantasm I ever seen—or know of.”

“Wait for real?” she asks, gaping at me as her eyes light up.

I nod. “Sure is. I think with a little more rest, I could pull it off once without exhausting my core. If you can set up a circle, you can use the quick burst of mana from it to try and summon someone else. We’ll have to practice, because it’s a split second and you’ll have to call to the throne exactly when I use it, but I think we could do it.”

“Whoa.” She says. Her eyes are shining and I see the faint trace of a smile starting to form as she looks over and meets my gaze. “That…could work. I mean—I don’t know how to summon a spirit properly, but I know in theory how it works. Do you think that’s enough? You really think we could do it?”

“Well, I don’t see a reason not to try,” I say.

“But—how will I be sure I’ll get someone who can help?” she asks.

“Well, any numbers help, and any spirit’s gonna be pretty interested in this not happening to them, so I think anybody you summon would help us. It’s more complicated than that, though. Being summoned….it works multiple ways. Most of the time, you got no choice, except if you go willingly or unwillingly—you go either way. But occasionally they’re set up so the mage and the spirit both have to agree. I’ve never been on the mage end of a summons, but on our side you can usually sense the intent of a call. Occasionally we even get to choose if we want to answer. Since you and I ain’t gonna have anything close to the power to drag a spirit from the throne, it’ll be one of those, which is great, because it means if anybody shows up, they’ll have come because they heard you and wanted to come help. Just be honest and specific in what you need, and who you are. I think you’ll get lucky. I’m pretty sure if I heard someone like you asking for help plain and simple and I could do it, I’d take the pact.”

“Really?” she asks like it means something big to her.

“Yeah,” I say, and I mean it.

She smiles at me. “Okay. Great! I guess we have nothing to lose. I’ll try to set something up, and you just focus on feeling better and getting that energy back.”

“Will do,” I agree with a smile, watching her hop up and snag all her notes and diagrams and start trying to organize them. “You’ve done a lot too, though,” I add, “Make sure to get yourself some rest as well.”

The gal glances over and returns my smile. “I will. Thanks. But I’m okay—I took an accidental power nap on the floor, so I’ve got like eight more hours in me.” She proudly makes a muscle. “You want some tea before going back to sleep?”

“Sure,” I say, bemused as she vanishes back down the little hall.

This has all gone some kind of way, but, I’m surprisingly…Hopeful.

I remember the coin then, and that feeling bottoms out. Please don’t have been summoned yet, I pray, feeling a little sick.

I want so bad to think he’s not here yet, but I got a bad feeling. Did I sense him, when I was in Ur-shanabi, and I just can’t remember because I was so weak, or am I just paranoid and afraid? I don’t know. God, I hope at least he hasn’t been there anything close to as long as me. I hope he hasn’t been summoned at all. I should be trying to guess at the others, but there’s just way too many of us could be most of them. Clay pot means older ages spirit, letter means…well, recent enough for paper to survive, and shuriken means one from the east, but the earring could be anybody, and I can’t focus on it anyway. Why did it have to be somebody I know? And like? I’m trying to remember for sure how he died.

…I’m…I’m pretty sure he was bled to death slowly by a nun that was supposed to help him.

Why did we all have to die so terribly? I don’t like to think of him like that, but in my head it’s all I can see now. That terrible workshop, with its cold metal and saturated mana in the air that makes you sick with the taste of every breath, people walking by all the time to look at you like an animal in a cage. …Bolted down to the floor and cut up everywhere, half-awake in a massive puddle of his own blood. I don’t want to see that; I don’t want it to happen; I don’t want it to happen to him. He’s been through enough shit—he’s my friend.

But I got a bad feeling.

Please don’t be here, Robin. Please, God, don’t let them have picked him to summon yet.

A really bad feeling…

#fate go AU #fate series #fate go #fate grand order #fanfic #fate fic #fgo #fate AU #fate Billy the Kid #Ritsuka Fujimaru #billy the kid #writing #The Kid #The Kid (fic)#I love that Billy’s phantasm is ranked higher in damage than an A+ Phantasm but because it’s so tied to his skill instead of deeds it costs #only about the mana of an E rank phantasm short king is right

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szopenhauer · 4 years

Text

Are you more positive or a debbie downer? Debbie Downer should be my name lol

What would you love to drink right now? I’m drinking water rn, second mug in a row, my belly is going to explode

Is that an alcoholic drink or not? it’s not this kind of water :P

Oh good. What would you love to eat right now? I’m not hungry...

How many meals do you eat a day? depends

Do you brush your tongue with your tooth brush? sometimes

What are you favorite type of jeans? I’d say skinny even tho I don’t wear jeans anymore ^^”

Do you eat your nails? wait what swallow? ewww I don’t even bite them :o

Do you enjoy making or taking surveys? taking them more

Name something that is blue that you like Sadness from Inside out

Name something pink that you like PYNK music video by Janelle Monae? XD

If you could have one more pet, what? meh

If you could sleep next to a tame wild animal what? woah

Would you rather have an owl or a snake? both are cool

What would you name it? Bowl for owl and for snake either Ksysio or Wonsz żmieja?

Do you eat the ice in your drink? no

Have you ever been addicted to cigarettes? I had one cigarette in my whole life but I still keep a package in my room :x

Which do you use more? Facebook or Instagram? fb, I don’t care for insta

Do you watch beauty videos on You Tube? nah

Do you like Star Wars? love

What kind of surveys do you like the most? interesting, not just YES or NO questions, I want to go deeper

Have you ever dropped something down the garbage disposal on accident? omg luckily not

What CD would you never buy for yourself? anything Justin Bieber for sure

Is sex a must in your life? absolutely not

Would you rather be cute and ugly or hot and stupid? cute and ugly? lmfao ok

Are you evil in any way? everyone is, more or less

Would you rather be a clown or a garbage man? can’t decide :D

Would you rather be a rockstar or a librarian? librarian but rock star ain’t that bad of a choice ;)

WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE? again? I just got this question on ask today and that really made me anxious

Did you and your mum ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? sigh... Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? yep but not to my room as I’m super ashamed of it, it’s not what I really want, it’s more like a storage room for mine and my mom’s things, I wish I could move and out and do what I want instead of cleaning this mess just to have it ruined days after, not that I have money now to fix things the way I imagine my bedroom to be someday :( Have you had a good day today or was yesterday better? yesterday was better but today I got a T-shirt so that was a good moment Do you have any plans for the upcoming weekend? hospital

Could you date someone very attractive, but who thought they were better than everyone else? blergh, r u kidding me?... Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? constantly Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? not because of me but someone somewhere definitely has that name on them for another reason How would you feel if you got the person you liked? I'm in a relationship Is there anyone who likes you? it seems If the last person you kissed saw you kissing someone else, would they be mad? of course What’s the first thing you heard this morning? you mean a sound (doorbell) or words (I don’t remember)? If you fell pregnant to the last person you kissed, what would you think? not possible Are you young or old? young, at least according to my ID and being childish Are there always other fish in the sea? there are but maybe I don’t want them and/or they don’t want to be catched etc. What can your tongue do? pfft Do chickens have feelings? sorta Do you think the body is the most beautiful thing that was ever made? ... So how are you feeling today? not good enough Where is your sister right now? don’t know nor care What do you smell like? it’s so hot, I smell like sweat and I can’t stand it but I can’t shower all day long What colour is your mum’s hair? grey When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings? last week Do you like fire? as an element of magic in fantasy movies Does your mum vacuum early in the morning while you’re asleep? she’s noisy in different ways Does wearing glasses really make people look smart? that’s a lame stereotype Do your band-aids have cartoons on them? they’re useless but one time I bought Moomin ones because I’ve been walking through the store and they fallen right under my feet and there was nobody around nor the shelf/aisle that they could come from so it was weird and I love Moomins so I took them home (I paid) and they’re probably stored somewhere Have you ever kissed someone you shouldn’t have? what do you mean? Who’s the funniest drunk person you know? my gf apparently - in a cute way - that’s surprising for a teetotalist like me What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up this morning? my tee came! When was the last time you saw your father? he just left for work and I was waving to him through the window which is our tradition What if your partner went through your cellphone? I have nothing to hide Has anyone ever been with you while you were throwing up? my parents and sister

Robert Downey Jr. — Bet you have a crush on him. he’s handsome but I’d prefer to be him instead of having a crush on sex I’m not attracted to

What would you do if you were to get stuck on a ski lift overnight? ... freeze? and pee myself Have you ever received an anonymous gift? one time when we were really poor that we couldn’t afford food someone left a package under our door, knocked and ran, bless this person whoever knew we have hard times :* What kind of laugh do you have? many kinds that happen randomly Will you have a Valentine next year? I have a bigger chance than any other year before Macaroon or a cupcake? cupcake Did you kiss or hug anyone today? hug my mom and my dad too Are you currently waiting on someone to do something for you/to you? kinda Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? I’m not in an abusive relationship but I know those who are as it’s common and it’s really sad that ppl think only beating makes relationship toxic Are you planning on going anywhere with someone, some time today? I’ll stay home Do you find your school to be loaded with hot guys or not so much? I remember E.W. once said that we have a lot of elves around because LOTR movie had very ugly ones as we did in high school, I tried to find that pic someone posted back in the day but I failed, it was from the council from what I remember

Is there anyone you are currently trying to get out of trouble? Why? mostly I just keep my eye on my father and my mother all the time because of covid (and not only because of it) if that counts Are you plotting anything at the moment? another chapter of the book? Have you ever wanted your significant other to get rid of a friend? because they were evil to them, it wasn’t about ME If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? she moved out :3

Do you have a therapist? no longer Have you ever gotten a good grade in math class? yeah, in middle school I was getting awesome grades in math class What do you think of the last person you texted? we’re dating Have you ever gotten a bloody nose from snorting cocaine? I’ve never done cocaine wtf

Do you post pictures were you look good but your friends look bad? I ask them first Are you friends with any of your exes? me and one of my exes are together Are you a whiskey person? I’m a no alcohol person

Has anyone ever made fun of your taste in music? tiny bit, wasn’t that bad

Have you ever overflown a bathtub? I have not Have you ever thrown food at a stranger in a movie theater? not in a movie theater Are you somewhat of a perfectionist? somewhat Do you like sour candy? by Lady Gaga not eat Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? but I don’t drive Is there ever a time that you enjoy cold showers? brrrr no way Are you good at painting nails? am not but it doesn’t matter Are you good at filling silence in awkward situations? doubt it What word should you really probably remove from your vocabulary? kurwa Do you rip out the page if you make a mistake writing, or cross it out? cross it out, if I ripped the page then there would be nothing left Do you use a full length mirror daily? we don’t own one Can you walk in heels, or do you feel awkward in them? I think they don’t match my style and they’re uncomfy in a long term Mac or PC? PC Will you tell someone if there’s something in their teeth? sorry but probably not Do you ever actually make your bed? when I have guests Do you make an effort to eat healthy? yup The last time you kissed someone, what color of shirt were they wearing? black, that’s easy What’s something you want to purchase next time you’re at the mall? food If you had to choose between a million dollars or to be able to change a regret? money because one regret won’t help me and even might make things worse Are you taller than your mom? almost 10 cm What would you do if your best friend told you they were moving today? my gf - break up my dad - try to stop him or move out with him You’re locked in a room with the person you last kissed, problems? no problems Do you have any ‘naughty’ photos on your phone? 0 Could you handle living with a male roommate? my dad, no one else What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? waking up Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? who said we aren’t texting? Do you think you’ll actually live a happy life with somebody? don’t feed my paranoia Connection between you and the last person who messaged you? love Where is your biological father right now? bus/job already Who else is in the room with you? I’m alone Water with ice or no ice? no ice Are you wrapped in a blanket? too hot for that

Has anyone done anything nice for you today? I’m thankful for all those nice things people do for me - big or small The last time you hung out with your sibling(s), what did you do? took a walk

Do you usually bring or buy a lunch for school? bring

The last time you had sex, was it in their bed or yours? their

How old were you when you figured out you were definitely straight, or bi, or whatever? middle school was the beginning

Do you fit in at work or in school? I was always an outcast

Have you ever looked in the mirror and thought, “Oh God, Ew.”? 99% of time

Have you ever cried at a real wedding? nope

Is there someone you need to forgive? *annoyed sound*

What’s your brother(s) / sister(s) names? personal

Suppose you saw your crush/bf/gf kissing another girl/guy, what would you do? why tho

What is your favorite color for bridesmaid dresses? whatever bridesmaid wanna wear besides white

Do you have a secret crush right now? it’s no secret

Do you know anyone who doesn’t want to have kids? me

Would you rather visit Tokyo or Paris? dunno

Do you think you would like living in New York or Chicago? Why or why not? too overcrowded/loud etc.

Name 3 celebrities who are the same height as you. Lady Gaga, Ellen Page, Reese Witherspoon

Are you happy with your height? I’d like to be taller, not too much tho

Do you have big or small hands? small

Have you been baptized? I have been

Have you ever been abused in any way? sadly

Do you like unicorns? they’re fine

Is there one book you have read over and over again because it’s so good? if so, which is it? I don’t reread books

Do you play games on your phone a lot? recently I became obsessed with LOVE ISLAND game

Have you ever had to put out a kitchen fire? my mom took care of it but it wasn’t a big deal tbh

Have you ever been kidnapped? wut

Do you have anything glow in the dark in your room? stars

Do you wear a scarf, if so, what does it look like? not rn

Is there a video or computer game that you can get lost in for hours? mhm but not too long

Do you get breadsticks with your pizza? breadsticks and pizza? it’s like bread with bread - no thx

Did you ever have a waterbed? I hate those

What toy from your childhood do you miss? rubber toys?

Did you sleep in late today? yes

When was the last time you were disappointed? this day

Do you like listening to love songs? I like a variety of music which includes love songs

In your group of friends, are you the smart one, athletic one, etc.? funny mom friend... ok, fine, a dad because my puns are daddy jokes

Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? no but they said bad things about me behind my back

Did you ever watch the show Full House? with my sister What was the last thing that scared you? how I feel physically Do the librarians at your library know you by name? they do

What ten people would you most likely bring on a roadtrip? 10 ppl?! shoot me...

Is there anything you’re really stressed out about right now? health issues

What was the last thing that made you cry? I’m about to cry...

What are the last three songs you listened to? Crystal Castles - Suffocation frnkiero andthe cellabration - neverenders Major Lazer - Be Together (Feat. Wild Belle)

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lightanddarklove · 4 years

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Prickling Doubt and Burnout

5032 Words | Rating: Teen [description of an injury and swearing, self-esteem/ self-doubt and mental health issues]

I wrote this trying to get some pain out of my system but I didn’t get to write as much as I would have liked before the hiatus ended. If the new episodes don’t make me feel like I am treading the same ground as cannon, I have more ideas to continue this.

The only thing that I didn’t notice, a minor detail that I got wrong, is that they no longer have a closet under the stairs with the repaired house. So where are they storing their cleaning supplies? I kind of doubt they’re in Steven’s closet upstairs, so if anyone could tell me where their pantry or something is I will fix that bit.

Also, Steven swears, but not out loud, so I haven’t let Steven say fuck yet >:)c

Steven doesn’t feel like he can talk to Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl about his problems, so he finds another way to distract himself until he can find the right words to say. Unfortunately for him, cleaning the greenhouse doesn’t come without more hurt.

Takes place right after Prickly Pair. Steven-centric & Cannon compliant through that episode. Hurt/ Comfort but the ratio’s about 80/20%.

“I think I’ve said enough.” Steven’s voice was low and he ducked his head as he turned to walk back to his room. The concerned gazes of the Crystal Gems followed him, but they didn’t press. He spoke once more over his shoulder as he climbed the stairs, not turning to face them. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused… again.” With two more steps, he walked through the doorway and out of sight.

He waited a moment in his room, staring at the cactus flower in his hand and repeatedly turned it gently between two fingers. He almost expected one of the gems to follow him to his room and insist he talk to them, but there was nothing. He sighed and looked around the room. With the exception of the open balcony door, floor and bed littered in cactus spines and comforter not on his bed, there was little out of place.

He took one more step and was reminded with a sting of pain of the needles still embedded in his chest, legs, arms and face. He paused and carefully put down the flower near the tv. Grabbing the comforter and folding it over, he placed it on the floor. He quickly retrieved a pair of tweezers and a mirror from the area above his bed. With a grunt of discomfort he sat down on the comforter to remove the needles pricking his skin. He started with left hand palm, and plucked them out one by one. Each spine stung slightly and he quietly hissed through his teeth as he pulled them out. He willed himself not to anger as he worked.

It’s not worth it, he thought. Cactus Steven had caused enough damage, I don’t need the rage of Pink Steven too. He worked his way from his palm to his arm, focusing on his breathing and the morning light outside. Hopefully Cactus Steven will find some place he can belong. It would be nice if at least one of us could. He shook his head as he pulled a needle from his sensitive triceps’ area. Thinking that way isn’t helping. I messed things up here, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t still have a place here, right? He swiped a tear away from his eye with his now un-prickly left hand. He knew that tear wasn’t just from the cactus spines, but he couldn’t do any damage control like this. It sucks feeling like I can’t do anything right, but I have to try. I’m not going to run away from all my problems like she did. I can clean up my own mess.

Plucking a spine from his left shoulder he dropped it in the pile with the others and switched his tweezers to his left hand. I’ll wait to heal myself until all of these plant materials are cleaned up. I can’t risk bringing another plant to life and causing more damage. These spines are nothing compared to getting head-butted in the face or the toxic injector fluid on my arm. The faces of an angry Jasper and Spinel came to mind as he thought of old injuries, but he tried to shake the thoughts away. The burn on his arm had long healed but that patch of skin still had discoloration from the injury. His eyes were drawn to the burn as he removed more needles. Tiny drops of blood marred his skin further from the cactus gashes, but very few actively dripped, as most of the pricks only went skin deep. I’m sturdier than most people, he thought bitterly. I can handle it. He quickly wiped at the lightly bleeding cuts to prevent them from dripping into his comforter and instead rubbed it into his ruined T-shirt. No salvaging this, it’s too full of holes. Might as well use it as a rag.

Once he had reached the end of his shoulder, he picked up the mirror from the floor and began tweezing the spines on his face. He bit his lip as he plucked each needle from his cheeks, taking care not to let out an audible cry that could be heard downstairs. No need to worry them, he mused. He took a closer look at his reflection, swiping away the few blood drops that rested on his face and noticed a dark spot beginning to form above his eyelid. That must have been from when Cactus Steven bounced my shield back at my eye. I deserved that. He pulled more needles from the area around his brow, biting back tears. I was as so stupid to think that fighting him was the answer. The house is smashed and the gems got hurt because of me. I should have been better to him. When will I learn how to not be so impulsive?

With a few more tweezes he moved downward, plucking spines from his chest. He stopped after a moment and tried to remove his shirt, hoping to get all of them from his torso and waist in one pull, but as he tugged the sharp needles didn’t want to free themselves from his skin and simply tugged at his injuries. He huffed in disappointment and continued his slow methodical plucking. This hurts, but it could have been worse. Get over yourself. Don’t need to make a big deal of it. He moved further down to his abdomen, biting his lip as he pulled from the tender area around his gem.

Before long, he was free of spines, front to back. He stood and bubbled the pile of spines before floating the plant matter over to his trash and popping the bubble, causing the pile to fall into it with a quiet scraping noise. The room still had many needles littering the floor and Steven moved to go back downstairs to get the vacuum.

On the main floor, the gems were all trying to address the still spraying sink in various ways. Garnet was on her back, laying on the floor where the sink used to be, wrench in hand. She was trying to tighten a bolt to stop the flow of water and finding it slick and difficult. Pearl had a mop and bucket she was pushing across the floor, trying to clean its soaked surface. Amethyst had a funnel plugged into the sink hole and a hose in her other hand, which emptied into a large plastic storage container on the floor. Pearl and Amethyst looked up as Steven moved across the room but Garnet continued her efforts.

“I’m cleaning up the cactus needles upstairs,” Steven said, unable to keep their gaze. He moved to the cupboard beneath the stairs, carefully stepping over the broken debris of the coffee table. He retrieved the vacuum and moved to leave.

“Steven,” Pearl called. “Once we get the sink issue under control, we can help you with the dome, if you’d like.”

“Or just in general,” Amethyst added. “Did you feel like talking about it?”

“Don’t trouble yourself. I can handle it,” Steven replied, turning up the stairs. Amethyst looked away sadly.

“Got it,” Garnet said, tightening the bot into place and stopping the spray of water. “Steven, hold on.” He stopped on the landing and turned to face them. “The oven likely will need replacement parts, as water spray got everywhere. You’re not going to want to use the microwave either, so when you get hungry, I’ll have foods that don’t require preparation set in a bag by the stairs.”

“Thanks,” he answered and turned back to his room.

The spines littered the floor and bed when he came back upstairs, vacuum in tow. He turned over everything that had been on the floor and plugged in the vacuum. He flipped its switch and began to methodically work his way across his floor. He quietly cursed himself whenever he accidentally stepped on a spine the vacuum didn’t pick up. He tried to focus on the task at hand, working his way from the stairs toward the opposite side of the room.

After a bit, he noticed his phone light up from his position standing on the bed. He glanced up, continuing to work the vacuum over the needle covered mattress with one hand. He reached out and unlocked his phone, noticing a notification from Connie. That brought a small but genuine smile to his face. He remembered that she had a presentation today and he should wish her good luck in his reply.

Upon opening his messages, he saw a smiling selfie. She had taken the photo from an upper angle, flattering her young features. Her short hair looked neatly styled in a bob, as was typical, but there was a trace of mascara and blush, which was uncommon for her. She wore an azure blue button-up sweater half closed over a grey and white horizontal striped shirt, with a navy knee-high tapered skirt and black leggings, and dark grey ankle boots. She looked like she was putting her best foot forward for her presentation and his smile grew, gazing fondly. Her caption read: “Getting ready for the day. How bout you?”

He paused to admire her. He hadn’t smiled this much since before Cactus Steven started spouting back his dark thoughts, not really. All of his smiles for the gems the night before were placating smiles, not actually because he was happy, and when talking to them in the midst of his fight with his mutated plant, they were entirely false. However, the simple act of a picture sent just for him made him light up.

He replied, “Doing some cleaning. I haven’t gotten changed yet. I’m not presentable yet, haha, but you look,” he paused. Beautiful? Gorgeous? No, too much. Cute? Yes, but also she’s matured so much, she might not like that. Perfect? No, way too much. Terrific? That sounds stilted. How about… “Fantastic. Good luck on your presentation today, I believe in you!” After looking over his text again, he added heart and star emojis to the end and hit send. He slipped his phone into his sweatpants pocket and continued to work on vacuuming the top-sheet of his bed to rid it of cactus spines. He worked his way from foot of the bed forward, noting that the pillow was untouched by the needles. He finished his way across the bed, hopped down and placed the vacuum on the ground, shutting it off. A new ping on his phone took his attention.

“You could have just rolled out of bed and you’d look good,” came Connie’s reply.

Hah, not today, he thought ruefully. I don’t want her to see me like this. Another message popped up before he could come up with a response.

“What made you catch the cleaning bug so early?”

How do I say what happened without making her worry? He thought. I can’t distract her from her presentation. “Well, I woke up early and…” He paused. Cactus Steven broke a lot of stuff, but I definitely don’t want to tell her that. “-there was a bit of a mishap in the greenhouse. Just doing a bit of work to put everything back in its place.”

He slipped the phone in his pocket and pulled the top sheet off the bed, looking it over. There were minor tears in a few spots, but it didn’t look too damaged. Maybe dad knows someone who can fix it. Steven considered. I don’t want to ask Pearl, she’s already helping fix the mess downstairs. He wadded the sheet into a ball and tossed it next to his hamper.

He took the folded over comforter in his left hand and walked to the balcony door, opening it with his right. The morning air was cool on his arms and chest through the holes in the shirt. Taking the comforter in both hands he walked to the balcony’s edge. He tried to enjoy the view of the beach as he shook the comforter out over the deck. The cactus needles shed from the comforter with a few good shakes. Most of them fell to the beach below but a few littered the wood beneath his feet.

He took a few careful steps back, avoiding the spines and walking back into his room, comforter draped over his arms. He closed the door behind him and fished a spare sheet from the bottom drawer of his dresser. He quickly made his bed and looked around his room. With the exception of the wadded sheet by his hamper and the trash bin brimming with cactus spines everything looked in order.

He walked to his shoes stowed in the corner and slipped them on. Before turning around, a new ping brought his attention back to his phone. He promptly pulled it from his pocket and opened his texts. “Is everything ok?” Connie’s text read.

Steven chewed his lip as he considered how to put her mind at ease. Now you’ve made her worry. Way to go, he thought bitterly. He set the phone down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe if I just show her the greenhouse and don’t tell her about the damage to the house it won’t distract her too much. If I tell her nothing that will definitely make her worry more. I can’t show her how I look though, especially not with this shirt.

In one swift motion he tugged his shirt off, wincing slightly as it pulled against his marred skin, and tossed the shirt by the hamper. He grabbed a fresh black and yellow star tee from the dresser and more carefully slipped it on, trying not to aggravate his injuries. He turned back to the corner of the room by his bed where he left his apron hanging on and slipped it over his outfit, tying it firmly. He scooped up his phone and ran his other hand through his hair as he walked back to the balcony, opening the door with his elbow.

Feeling through his curls he found a few lingering cactus needles and opened his phone to his camera app look himself over. He walked the short few steps to the greenhouse and plucked the remaining needles from his hair, tossing them over the balcony’s edge before making his way to the ruined wall of the dome. He activated the door and soundlessly stepped inside. The bruise that was forming over his right eyelid was somewhat noticeable but the slight cuts from the needles were less so. With a quick adjustment of his filters, it was unlikely anyone would notice them at all in a photo. If he didn’t include the broken glass in his picture to Connie, it wouldn’t look like there was much damage at all. Its fine, just angle yourself so she doesn’t see the hole in the dome. No reason to get her worked up when she’s got her presentation today. But that bruise, if I put a bandage over it, she’ll surely notice. How do I avoid making her worry more?

He thought back to their recent conversation when she had been having a rough week of cramps. She had sent him a dramatic selfie: forearm draped across her brow, mouth open in a seemingly pained sigh, head tilted back and eyes closed. She had included the whole of her upper body in the shot, loose t-shirt flipped up slightly, exposed waist showing several inches of toned midriff, hot water bottle pressed into her aggravated side, and sweatpants hung low and tucked over the water bottle. At the time, he remembered blushing over seeing more of her abdomen then had previously had the privilege of, muscles firm from years of sword training and tennis. Connie didn’t wear crop tops, so this felt like a secret between the two of them.

But now, he recalled the pose, and if he adjusted it slightly so his forearm was over the injured eye, there would be no reason to call it into question. He would be playing back to a recent memory shared for his Jam Bud, not looking hurt and forlorn. It would be easy to downplay as not serious, so he could convince her to focus on her school day. She shouldn’t have to worry about me, he thought firmly. He found the right position, had the filters just right to avoid drawing attention to any red marks along the arms or face, and imitated the expression a precisely as he could. He snapped the picture and looked it over. “My poor greenhouse,” he captioned, adding a few emoji that matched his overly-dramatic expression. With a tap the picture was sent. He added after, “everything’s alright now, just a mess I’ve gotta clean up.”

He glanced around the dishevelment, now that his task of easing Connie’s mind was complete. A few broken pots and upturned dirt as well as broken branches strewn the floor. Bluebell Connie had been tipped over from her rightful place on the stool where she sat, but other than a small bit of dirt having spilled out the flower was undamaged. He flipped the stool with his foot and scooped the overturned dirt back into the pot before setting the Bluebell upright with his unoccupied hand. He turned and scooped up a few broken branches lying and tossed them into his compost pile about before he noticed another pot flipped over. The flower itself looked like it may need a splint to keep it from wilting, but more concerning was that the pot it was in had cracked and a few broken pieces lay on the floor.

Steven was walking toward the broken pot when heard another ping and looked down to the phone. “What happened to the place?” Connie replied. He continued walking toward the broken pot but his focus was on the message to Connie.

“I’ll tell you later.” He answered, typing with his right hand and reaching forward with his left. “I’ve got it under control-“ he had the next sentence half typed before he was able to send. His balance was thrown off as he stumbled over a branch he neglected to pick up earlier and the phone tumbled out of his hand, forgotten as he moved to brace himself. Happy thoughts couldn’t come to mind quick enough to slow his fall. The hand that had been reaching for the broken shard of terra cotta met it with staggering pain as the broken pot pressed into his palm several inches deep. He let out a sound between a strangled cry and a shuddering gasp.

No, no, no, fuck. He thought as he fumbled to his knees, trying not to focus on the throbbing feeling through his palm. Why can’t I do anything right?

He drew his injured hand to his chest and sprang back to his feet with the force of his free hand. His breaths came in hard, pained pants as he saw the blood begin to stain his apron. The sight had him fighting a gag. With an empty stomach, he knew if the nauseating feeling overtook his focus he would just be caught up dry-heaving and unable to stop the searing in his hand. Get out of here, he thought, who knows that the fuck bleeding on these plants would do. He forced himself to walk quickly out of the greenhouse and back to his room, trying to keep the blood running from his palm from ending up anywhere but the apron already splattered red. Adrenaline had his heart thudding loudly in his chest and he fought back panicked instincts through his pain.

After opening the bedroom door he immediately noticed the stained and torn sleep shirt on the floor and grabbed it. By pressing a knee onto it on his bed, he cleanly ripped off a large chunk with his unhurt hand and pressed it into the wound to slow the bleeding. He hissed through his teeth in pain but was able to use his fingers of his left hand enough despite the hurt to keep the scrapped shirt in place. He bubbled his injured arm just past the wrist to keep himself from bleeding further onto anywhere else. He used the rest of the damaged shirt to shred into strips, using the same method of leverage with his knee, and draped them over his elbow before walking swiftly back to the porch’s back end.

Please don’t let them see this, he thought, please don’t let them hear me, please don’t have them bother me. This sucks enough, I don’t want them to make me feel like more of an idiot. I don’t want to feel more pathetic. After making his way to a part of the porch that couldn’t be seen through windows, he bubbled all of himself before releasing the one on the wrist of his hurt hand, pulling the rag to tamp the bleeding from between his fingers and set it across his left wrist. He turned the palm up to assess the damage and he felt his stomach turn with discomfort. The shard of the flower pot cut into his hand with at least a three inch long gash, and at its deepest point cut into thick muscle at the top of his palm. Dirt smeared across the broken flowerpot, meaning he wouldn’t be able to heal it immediately without risking infection, as he had suspected. He took a deep breath and bubbled his head as to avoid drawing attention if he cried out. This is going to hurt, just get it over with. He thought. He grasped the terra cotta piece with his right hand, and hesitated. Here goes nothing.

Steven bit his lip and yanked on the broken piece from his hand. He wasn’t able to suppress a shout but with the two layers of bubble his voice would not be easily heard from inside the house. With a shuddering breath, he bubbled the shard of broken pot and sent it to a corner of his room before pressing the from his wrist rag into the cut and closing his fist. Stars, that hurts. He grabbed one of the strips from across his elbow, held one end between his fingers and took the other end in his teeth. With a quick motion he released his fist and wrapped the shirt strips around the wound, tying it off with his unharmed hand. He repeated the processes several times until he was sure the makeshift bandage would hold but not leak. Once finished, he rushed from outside the porch back into his room. He tossed the unused shredded shirt strips onto his bed, pulled off his apron, leaving it discarded on the floor and made his way down the stairs.

The gems each had their own task that they were working on to begin the work of restoring the kitchen and living area but quickly their eyes were drawn to him as he came down. Amethyst was carrying a large coffee table under one arm from her room in the temple. Garnet was taking food from the soaked cabinets and setting them on the far counter, or in a trash bin if they were ruined. Pearl was walking those food items onto what appeared to be a restaurant-grade set of metal shelving placed close to the temple door. Upon looking over to Steven they all had various expressions of distress and Steven avoided their eyes.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, don’t worry about me,” Steven urged guiltily, as he moved down the stairs.

Amethyst dropped the coffee table with a thud, narrowly missing her foot. Garnet sucked in an audible breath before quietly letting it out through her nose. Pearl dropped the box of rice in one hand with a thump and squeezed hard on the can in her other hand of vegetable soup until it popped, contents squelching through tight fingers and splattering to the floor.

Amethyst was the first to break the quiet. “Dude, your hand!” her voice pitched up and cracked as she said the last word, rushing to the foot of the stairs as Steven moved down and hurried toward the bathroom. He avoided her concerned gaze.

“I got it,” he replied.

“Oh, oh, Steven,” Pearl called from the kitchen, voice thick with uneasiness. She moved toward him with quick, purposeful strides. “That looks serious, let me help you-“ Steven turned his head over his shoulder but did not stop moving toward the bathroom.

“Pearl, I can handle this, you don’t need to see this. It’s gross.” He responded sternly. She stopped, but her arm reached out and her eyes watered without reaching their tipping point.

“I’m pretty sure she’s seen worse,” Amethyst interjected with a disdainful tone.

“Don’t worry bout it,” Steven said, opening the bathroom door with his unhurt hand. Pearl looked back to Garnet who stayed by the kitchen counter, her usual impassive expression looking tight and strained.

“Steven,” Amethyst called uneasily as Steven moved into the bathroom doorway. “You know when I lost my memory last spring, you said ‘I’ll be right by your side no matter what?’ That goes both ways, man. I can help. We can talk about this if you let me…”

“I can take care of this, Amethyst. Trust me,” he replied. She let out a slight huff as he closed the bathroom door.

“Well if you sound like you’ve collapsed in there I’m breaking down that door.” She snapped. “Don’t test me.” Steven turned toward the sink and ran the faucet, trying not to consider Amethyst’s warning.

��Garnet,” Pearl said in a hushed and anxious tone, “are you sure he’ll be alright? Those bandages he had were covered in blood.”

Steven yanked them off and ran his hand beneath the warm water, feeling the sting to his wound. His frame trembled slightly but his feet held beneath him. He tried to ignore their conversation, but unfortunately, his hearing was vigilantly trained and the running water wasn’t enough to drown it out.

“This injury will not require outside intervention, Pearl,” Garnet replied quietly. “It won’t do any good to press him further.”

He got a squirt of liquid soap and began washing the gash in his hand and area around it, seeing the soapy water stained red.

“This wasn’t the worse possible outcome,” Garnet continued as Steven cleaned the injury. “He could have gotten a piece of planter stuck in his face.” He tried not to think about that as he worked.

Still running the water over the hurt left hand, Steven opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out hydrogen peroxide and gauze, which rarely were needed but he was glad they had. He rinsed both hands to clear he blood off his right and shut the water off. He unscrewed the cap of the disinfectant and poured a small amount over the still bleeding gash, hissing through his teeth.

“Garnet, how did this happen? What can we do to help him?” Pearl ask.

Steven pressed the gauze to the cut and moved to sit on the lip of the tub. He brought his right hand to his mouth and licked along his fingers before pulling the gauze back with his pinky and thumb, and slid it across the injury, watching his healing spit sparkle and close the cut.

No reason to have to taste blood when I can just use my other hand to get the spit on it, he mused.

“I see lots of ways Steven could answer if we ask,” Garnet answered, “but I don’t know which is the truth. He’s hiding things again.”

Steven swallowed as he watched the muscles in his palm form anew. The deepest part of the injury, a dark spot about half an inch long, still looked an angry orange-red, but the edges went from pink to white in a new scar. He sighed and stood, looking himself over in the mirror.

“Is there anything we can do to?” Pearl said, tone hushed and fretful.

Steven glided his fingers back over his mouth and slicked them with his saliva. He took the spit and applied it to his face and arms, watching the marks from the cactus spines disappear.

“It’s better to leave it be, Pearl,” Garnet replied. “Trying to get answers out of him is only going to push him away.”

Steven lifted his shirt and rubbed a bit more saliva to the area around his gem, where the skin was tender. Getting anything accomplished today will be harder if I’m constantly flinching from the pain around my waist. I can deal with the rest of it later, he thought. He straightened his shirt before moving toward the bathroom door, sparing one last glance in the mirror. At least I look presentable. He exited the room, tossing the bloody gauze in the trash.

Garnet was still busying herself with the food sorting. Amethyst shoved the debris of the old table from the couch nook with her foot and moved the new one in place. Pearl brought the mop back out to clean up the soup splattered on the floor.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” Steven called, walking back to his room.

“We’ll be here.” Amethyst answered.

Steven retreated to his room but realized he didn’t have his phone, so he made a beeline for the dome one more time. He scooped it up from the floor and looked it over, grateful it was undamaged. Glancing around, he counted his luck that there were no drips of blood on the floor.

Moving back to his room, he saw the few responses to his last text to Connie. “I hope everything’s ok.” The first message read. “Don’t leave me in the dark.” The second one said, a few minutes later, followed by a frowny face. “I have to get to class now, but get back to me when you can, ok?”

Steven sighed, and sent a reply. “Sorry. Hope you did well on the presentation.” He laid back down on the bed, setting the phone on his nightstand and decided it would be best to rest before trying to do anything else.

#Steven Universe #steven universe spoilers #Steven Universe: Future #Prickly Pair #SU Fanfic #Fanfiction #my writing #self-doubt #self-esteem issues #tw: blood #tw: swearing #depressive thoughts #Steven POV #some connverse pining #the two newest eps were v healing tbh #Non-Betad

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slbp-secret-cupid · 5 years

Text

Notes: I'm a fan of a band called Wagakki Band, which uses modern and traditional instruments and mostly play j-rock. That's what partly inspired me to write this since I love how they sound.

Also, to my Cupid recipient, @michverse, I hope that you like it ^^ Happy SLBP Valentine’s Day - @otome0heart

PEEBLES IN THE WAY

“Did you have fun, Miss?”

The young woman turned around to see her personal maid, Matsuko, close the sliding door of her room with a big smile on her face and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and she felt a light blush cover her cheeks.

“Yes, I did” she replied while she gave her her coat and bag.

It had been much more than just 'fun'. The concert had been amazing, the music and the singing reaching to every single heart in the hall, which answered with as much passion as the musicians gave.

“And I suppose your fiancé's performance was great...”

She side-glanced at Matsuko, feeling her face even hotter, and the young maid could not help a chuckle.

“Of course, it was” she muttered, starting to unbutton her clothes.

“You don't have to feel embarrassed for having such a gorgeous and talented fiancé, Miss. I'd be really proud to show him off.”

She took off the dress and put it on top of the chest of drawers on her left. Then, she put her arms through the sleeves of her sleeping yukata, which Matsuko held for her.

“I know, and I am” she tied a sash around her waist. “It's just that... things are complicated...”

She turned to look at the maid with a small wistful smile.

“I know, Miss, I know...”

She sighed. Yes, the situation could not be more difficult. Not only was he a famous wadaiko player but also, her family was not making things easy for them. She breathed deeply and then, went to the other side of the room, opening the sliding door which led outside.

“Is everyone sleeping?”

“Yes. Your aunt turned off her lights as soon as she heard you arrive home.”

“Good” he smile widened, showing her satisfaction. “I'll be back in fifteen minutes. Take out the bedding and then, retire for the night. Thanks for waiting for me.”

“It was a pleasure, Miss” the woman bowed her head. “Goodnight.”

She made her way across the garden with only the moonlight as her guide. She had taken that stone path which guided to the far end of the enclosure so many times that she did not need any lights to illuminate her way. There, she stopped in front of a small old storage room which nobody used now for its distance from the main house and its decayed state. She unlocked it with a key she always wore around her neck and entered, holding the door in a way to avoid the hinges making any noise. Once in the safety of the one-room house, she sighed, relieved. In the darkness, she touched the wooden wall, where she knew there would be a candle and a box of matches, and lit it. The tiny flame lit a clean space that she had tidied with the help of her brother Yahiko and Matsuko, slowly and taking turns to avoid suspicions, except for when most of the family was away, when the three of them could work there for some hours. There, she kept the things that made her happy which had been forbidden by her relatives because they did not suit someone of her status.

Status. She snorted as she entered the room, the tatami creacking softly under her bare feet. That was all that mattered to them. Yahiko's status as the heir of the restaurant chain their parents had founded. He own status as the heiress to be married to make connections.

Little by little, they had stripped her of hobbies, friends and feelings to mold her into the perfect wife for a rich man. And she had complied. Or at least, she had made them believe it. She still kept in touch with some of her dearest friends and she had gathered whatever precious memories she had been able to save in that little room.

She walked to the center of the room, illuminating one of her favourite dolls, trophies she had won in sports competitions during school and a few romance novels and manga that still made her heart flutter each time she reread them.

She left the candle on top of a low cupboard and rummaged in the folds of her sleeping robe, taking out the ticket of the concert. A soft smile drew across her lips. What her relatives had never suspected was that they had given her the person that her heart had wanted the most for so long. When they had told her that they had already decided on a husband for her, she had tried to rebel. Even Yahiko, her brother, had. However, when she had discovered the identity of her fiancé, she had had no more reasons to protest.

She put the ticket on top of the cupboard, next to a photo frame, smoothing it carefully and then, straightened, staring at the poster in front of her. Almost unconsciously, she lifted a hand and, delicately, traced the features of the man in it. She had become a fan of his group when they had started their music career, years ago, and little by little, she had fallen more and more for him without realising that what she felt was not only admiration but love, until they had been introduced to each other. In that moment, her heart had flooded with a million feelings, filling each single corner of her being, and deep inside her, she had simply known that she had given him her heart.

With a low purr rumbling in his throat, Takeda Shingen turned in his bed, seeking a few minutes more of sleep under the warmth of the covers. He put his arm around the pillow, burying his face in it, slightly frustrated because his much needed rest had been disturbed and the last threads of unconsciousness which fogged his mind were disappearing. Slowly, he opened his amber eyes, wondering what had made him wake up. The thick dark curtains were tightly closed, not letting the sunlight enter the room and he had made sure his mobile phone was muted so nobody could disturb him.

He lifted his head, looking around through heavy lidded eyes and then, something at the back of his mind told him the reason. He looked at the space beside him on the bed and sighed, letting himself fall on the mattress again.

After a concert, he always brought someone home, one of those friends who, as him, looked for a way to relieve themselves without any strings attached, someone who would disappear in the morning with not so much as a 'till next time' and did not ask for something in return.

However, all that had ended when he had got engaged. He sighed. As much as his needs were still the same, he now had a serious committed relationship and he planned to be faithful. He could not help a small snort as he laid on his back, his eyes staring at the white ceiling. He did not know from whom he had inherited such righteous feelings, since his father was not precisely the perfect example of faithfulness. Or maybe it was precisely that which had shaped him in that way. Seeing his mother suffer in silence the none discreet affairs of her husband had probably made him promise himself not to make the woman he chose and loved feel the same humiliation. Well, he had not exactly chosen her but that marriage was the price he had to pay for his freedom, the condition his father had stated to let him continue in the music world while contributing to the family’s prestige, and he was willing to pay it. Beside, his fiancée was a pretty girl and he knew that, if he made an effort to get to know her, he could end up liking her. He sighed. The only thing that irked him quite a lot was her shyness and her seemingly docile character. She talked when told to, and did as told too. She was modest and proper. He pictured her in his mind, her long brown hair tied in a low bun at the nape of her neck, her white skin and her pink lips, the perfectly fit kimonos she had always worn when he had visited her and... He furrowed his brows for a moment, trying to remember any other detail about her. And it was then that he realised he did not even know what colour her eyes were.

The screen of his mobile phone turned on, distracting him from his musings and, turning slightly, he picked it up from the top of his bedside table. As every morning, Kansuke, his assistant and best friend, had sent him the planning for the day. Fortunately, he did not have many engagements, an interview for a magazine with the rest of the band in a few hours and in the afternoon, a visit to his fiancée's household to have tea. He half closed his eyes, already dreading it. It was not that he did not want to see her, but they were never alone. Her family had guarded her closely since the first time he had stepped in the house, and they had not allowed even a short walk in their gardens in full view of all of them. However, he did not see anything bad in wanting to take up with her for a few minutes and he hoped that, as the wedding approached, they let him get closer to her. He had the right to do so.

But, as he had expected, once again, the situation was the same.

When he had arrived, he had been guided by a servant to the usual room where they received him. Her fiancée and her relatives were already there, waiting, and as soon as he had entered the room, the ritual had begun. The first time he had gone to that house, he had been surprised at the formality and ceremony he found, and had felt stupid, following every step after his parents and the rest of the people of the room, who seemed to know what to do. Now, his actions were almost mechanic. He had sat formally and bowed deeply in answer to their formal greetings. Then, he had answered courteous questions asked by the elders related to his family's health and, taking his place next to her brother, he had watched as her aunt performed once again the tea ceremony. Fortunately, those only lasted around an hour. It was not that he did not like them; he loved the ritual and how each action was performed with detail, following a specific procedure. However, instead of the quiet and relaxed atmosphere he had experienced in them during his life, there, the feeling was oppressive and he felt watched, judged by every single one of his actions.

Now, as he bowed formally at the end of the ceremony, not feeling thankful in the slightest, he stole a glance to his right. The young woman who was going to be his wife was sitting straighter than he had ever seen someone do it, with her head slightly bowed, as every single time before. He had to suppress a frustrated sigh and he straightened, looking ahead again. One more day that he could not talk to her. At that rate, they would be married without him knowing her favourite colour.

“I hope you forgive my rudeness” her aunt turned to him with a slight bow after all the utensils had been collected. “But I have a previous appointment in a few minutes, so I feel myself in the difficult position of shortening your visit.”

Definitely, she was a damned witch.

“Of course” he bowed his head too, briefly. “Please, rest assured that I'm not an- disgruntled at all” the old woman smiled satisfied. “However, I would like to request something of you before I go.”

It was obvious that nobody expected that, because the silence hung in the room a bit too longer than it had been desirable.

“Yes?” he had to suppress a smirk hearing her slightly displeased tone.

“I'd like to request your permission to take my fiancée out next Sunday.”

The silence was even heavier/thicker this time as he waited for an answer.

“Well, the engagement has already made official so I don't see any inconvenience for her to attend any event that your family organises...”

It was his turn to furrow his brows.

“It's neither a family gathering or a social event” he breathed deeply and lifted his chin proudly. “I would like to get to know her better so I had thought of us having lunch together.”

He side glanced at her, only to see her turn her head quickly, just in time to see her expression, a mixture of surprise and horror. Yahiko was looking at both of them alternatively, his eyes wide.

The elderly woman's hardened features and her tightly pressed mouth followed by a sharp intake of breath told him immediately he had stepped on a landmine.

“I'm going to be frank with you” she started, and her voice was cold like ice. “Even though I'm old and traditional, I am well aware of what young people nowadays consider “get to know better”, as I am of your reputation. I can't believe you're asking such a thing, expecting us to agree. No, I will not allow you to tarnish the immaculate reputation of this household. You will have time to 'get to know her' once the marriage ceremony takes place” she squared her shoulders. “I expect you to reflect upon your behaviour before your next visit. And now,” she bowed curtly and then, lifted herself up. “If you please...”

Shingen tightened his jaw until he felt pain and took a moment to stand up. In any other occasion, he would not have let her humiliate him like that, but the last thing he wanted to hear was his father berating him for offending them and risking the engagement. Dying to get out of that room, of that house, he did not look at anyone. He held his head high, proudly, before leaving the place.

How could things have gone so wrong?

The young woman had listened to the exchange between her fiancé and her aunt terrified. It seemed that she still had the power to destroy her happiness if she wanted to. Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen him bear stoically the old woman's harsh words, and though his eyes reflected the hardness of precious stones, she had seen his wounded pride in them too. That was something that her aunt knew how to do really well, being one of her victims herself. She attacked someone's vulnerable points until rendering them speechless and backing them against the wall, and she knew why he was willing to marry her and that he could not risk his chance.

She had sprung to her feet as soon as she had done it, at the same time as everybody except for him. As if challenging the old woman, he had stood up slowly, a second later than the rest, towering them all, his eyes never leaving her aunt's.

She had felt so useless at that moment, thinking that the engagement had ended, that he would walk out of her life that very moment leaving her broken forever without knowing it. And then, she would probably be betrothed to another without a second thought. A sudden wave of nausea at the idea overcame her and in that moment, she knew that she had to do something.

When she had come out of the room, trying to remain calm and at the same time to think fast about what to do, she had seen Matsuko, her expressive eyes worried. Then, it came to her mind what to do. If she could not speak to him or send him a message, as she had been denied his phone number, she could write him a note. She looked at her relatives, gathered around the main entrance, around him who was with his back to them, probably putting on his shoes, and with a quick gesture, she asked the maid for paper and pen. She looked around and then, a dawning expression lighted her face, as she brought her hand to her obi and extracted what seemed a supermarket receipt. She took them quickly, scribbling something just before her aunt's voice, calling her name, sounded in the hall. With a few short steps, she arrived at the line of people waiting. However, just before she could stop herself, she treaded on the step and lost her balance.

His hand was fast, holding her arm and steadying her before she crashed against him. His fingers were strong but strangely gentle in their grasp, and for a moment, she forgot everything around her as she perceived the sensuous, though faint, smell of his perfume and the slight warmth that was starting to seep through the layers of her sleeve. His eyes were even more beautiful than she had imagined, reflecting his surprise at the situation and a faint curiosity. After all, it was the first time they had truly looked at each other.

Her aunt's authoritative voice broke through her daydreaming and she jumped, snatching her arm from his hand and taking her place in the row of relatives, bowing to him when the old woman bid her farewell to him. Through her eyelashes, she saw him take a last reflexive look at her before disappearing through the sliding door.

A low murmur filled the hall when the five people next to her started to move to other parts of the house, and she could feel Yahiko's concerned gaze on her. She walked past him, her fingers brushing his softly, as a way to calm him.

“Clumsy child” her aunt's voice carried a disdaining tone, and she bowed her head in a submissive gesture. “I expect you to behave properly next time.”

She nodded, her eyes not leaving the floor. However, instead of embarrassment, all that filled her heart was the hope of him reading her note.

Shingen closed the door of his car with more force than necessary. How he hated them... If it was not for the advantages that the wedding would bring him, he would never go back.

He reclined his head back, letting it rest briefly against the seat, his lids fluttering close for a moment, trying to calm himself. As soon as they were married, he would take her out of that house and, if possible, they would only return to give their New Year greetings.

With a sigh, he grabbed the seatbelt with one hand while searching for his car keys in the pocket of his jacket with the other. However, there was something else in his pocket. Slightly confused, he took it out. It was the receipt of a convenience store, something he was sure he had never put in there. He turned it around and his sight fell on some hasty strokes written with a pencil.

I'm sorry.

Without realising it, a soft smile drew across his lips, knowing instinctively who the author of that note was. So, the fall had not been an accident, as she had made all of them believe. His smile widened, turning into a smirk. It seemed that the delicate submissive pretty flower he was supposed to marry was not so obedient.

A desperate knock on the window took him out of his thoughts abruptly and he saw a boy look at left and right quickly, a frantic expression marring his features. He lowered the glass.

“Yahiko... right?”

He nodded once.

“I have to show you something” his tone was urgent. “Park at the back of the house and wait for me there.”

Before he could reply, the boy started running and soon disappeared around the corner of the enormous stone wall that surrounded the compound. Shingen blinked a few times, a bit perplexed, but his interest had been picked between the note and the boy's promise so, he started the car, drove for a few minutes to avoid suspicions and then, turned around a street to go back to the house.

As he had promised, by the time he arrived, Yahiko was waiting for him next to a small wooden door. Without a word, he motioned him inside and guided him carefully, without barely making a noise, through a bamboo garden before finding themselves in front of a small deteriorated wooden storage house. Then, the young man turned to him, his face serious and his eyes shining with resolve.

“You see, I'm doing this for my sister's sake...” he straightened his shoulders. “So before I take you inside, I have to know... What do you think about her?”

He was left speechless for a moment and then, even though he tried to stifle it, a hearty laugh left his lips.

“What's so funny?” Yahiko crossed his arms and furrowed his brows.

“Nothing, kid but, do you realise that you're asking for an explanation to a guy who is more than twice your age, height and built? Who could lay you flat on the ground in this same moment?”

The boy did not change his attitude, neither seemed intimidated by him, and Shingen felt satisfied with that. He bent over, putting his hands on his knees so he could look at him eye to eye.

“I'm going to be sincere with you. She is my freedom to do what I like the most, if I marry her, I can continue my music career without my father meddling in my business and that's what I desire the most” the light in the boy's dark brown pupils wavered but Shingen knew that he had done right. “She's pretty and, though her docile character was not very appealing to me, it seems that there's more to her than that.”

Yahiko swallowed hard and breathed deeply. It had been hard to hear his reasons, but he also knew that his sister was aware of his feelings even though she had barely talked to him, and that she loved what he did, so he just nodded.

“Thank you” he bowed, and was slightly surprised when he saw Shingen return the gesture. “As I promised you, I'm going to show you something...” he took out a key from his pocket. “It's my sister's dearest treasure.”

The feeling of curiosity sparkled even brighter inside him as the lock slid back smoothly, a sign that, despite the run-down state of the whole building, it was used frequently. Yahiko opened the door carefully, stopping when the hinges squeaked.

“I think that's enough space for you to slip past...” he said, taking a look at his broad shoulders and muscled body.

His jacket brushed the frame with a whishing sound and he was almost sure that the fabric had been damaged in some way. Then, he found himself in a dark room, the scarce sunlight that entered through the crack only showing him a step and part of a light brown tatami mat just before the door closed quickly behind him. He heard some rustling of clothes beside him and a switch turned on, the beam of a flashlight crossing the room.

“My big sister always uses a candle because she usually comes at night and she wants to avoid anyone knowing that this place is being used. But now it's daylight and there's a lot of commotion in the house so I don't think the flashlight will be seen. And we have to be quick, so it's more convenient.”

The boy, who had been taking off his shoes while speaking, stepped in the room with a dull sound, turning to him with a small smile, the light dancing around the place with each of his movements. He followed him, looking around. By what he could grasp, it seemed that the place served its purpose of storing things but curiously, everything was tidy and clean. Also, there were pictures on the walls and objects carefully set on top of the shelves, as if they were there to be admired and cherished. His fingers brushed the flower patterned skirt of a western doll which was smiling widely at him and his eyes fell on the titles printed on the spines of a few books.

“Before our parents died in the plane crash” Yahiko's voice was subdued, and he approached him, his eyes still darting around, trying to absorb as much information as possible. “My sister was a normal teenager who read cheesy romance novels and went to the cinema with her friends. Even though our family was prestigious, mum and dad wanted us to grow up as ordinary children and enjoy life while we could. I remember that she was cheerful and kind and that I loved her bright smile.”

He smiled bitterly.

“However, when our relatives took us in, that ended. I was still a little boy so they mostly left me alone. However, she was already fifteen years old and they decided that she was old enough to start being trained as a wife and disposed of all her things” his gaze had wandered around, but then, it returned to the man in front of him. “What you see here is what we could save: a doll, a few books, her medals and trophies from the track and field competitions she participated in, photos...” he paused for a moment. “She was forced to leave all that behind. They tried to tame her and make her the perfect wife for a renown family and, after seeing that rebelling didn't bring her any good, she complied.”

There were some photos on the wall, and Shingen walked to them to see them better in the semi-darkness. The beam of light followed him and, lit them over his shoulder. There, different pictures of teenagers smiled back at him, and in all of them, an all too familiar girl he could barely relate to the demure lady he was engaged to stood out on her own.

“However, she's strong like my mother and she has managed to keep at least part of her spirit. Sometimes, she escapes from here with the help of her best friend, the only one our relatives approved from her past, and meet old acquaintances or do things that she's not allowed anymore.”

While listening to the story, Shingen had kept on wandering the room, finding small objects that were surely attached to a memory. Fleetingly, he thought that, once they were married, maybe he could get her to tell him about them. Lifting the lid of a box, he saw a small pile of Cds and, curious, he took one to see what type of tastes his fiancé had in music. His eyes widened in astonishment.

“I bet you didn't imagine she was a fan of your band...”

He lifted his head to look at the young boy. He was with his back to him, pointing the flashlight to a poster in front of him, one Shingen knew too well. It had been the promotional image of their first national tour. He walked to him, staring at the picture too. It was a bit flashier than he remembered, and he could not help a small smile seeing that he still had his hair short at that time. However, there was another one next to that and he pushed the light with his fingertips to take a better look at it. It was a recent one and he was alone in there. It had been taken at one of the concerts and on it, he was with his back to the watcher, his profile outlined by the spotlights and his hair braided in small plaits on the sides of his head and then tied up in a high ponytail as he played one of the enormous waidaiko around him.

“She had admired you for a long time, and she barely could believe it when they told her that you were her betrothed” Yahiko's voice had turned slightly amused. “I'd never seen her more bewildered than at that moment. However, she had to make an effort to recover so our aunt wouldn't suspect something. But her hands were trembling under the sleeves of her kimono.”

He turned to the man.

“Now you know a bit more about her” a smile made its way across his lips. “It's what you wanted, right?” Shingen could only nod absently, still looking at the posters in front of him, trying to reconcile all the information in his mind. “Now, let's go. Somebody could come looking for me at any moment and it would be bad if they caught us. Especially for her.”

He nodded once again, more firmly this time, and it was then that something caught his attention.

Yahiko took some steps towards the entrance and turned to see if he was following him. However, he was still in the same place, looking at something in his hand. He pointed the light to him.

“Your sister... was at last night concert...”

Yahiko chuckled. “Of course! I told you she escapes the house sometimes, didn't I?

After coming out of the building and making their way carefully to the wooden door in the fence, Yahiko rummaged in the the folds of his kimono.

“Before I forget, here's her phone number and mail”

“I already have those...” Shingen paused for a moment and glanced at the boy, feeling a bit troubled. “Though to tell you the truth, I've never used them.”

Yahiko moved his head.

“Those are my aunt's, she had to make sure you had as little contact with her as possible. However, she doesn't know she has a private one that only the close friends who they think she has cut ties with have. Maybe she'll take some time to answer, since she can't check it often but you can talk to her without them knowing about it.”

He took the paper and looked at it reflexively.

“Why are you doing all this? Am I not supposed to be the bad guy who's marrying her for his own benefit?”

The boy looked at him seriously, putting a hand on his waist.

“My big sister is my only true family and I want her to be happy. And I know her only way to that is getting out of this house. To tell you the truth, I hated you so much when you came for the first time. But I've watching you this whole time and you seemed interested in her as a person. And that became clear today. Beside, you didn't freak out when you saw all this and realised that she's admired you for a long time. Any other would've thought she was a creep. That made me trust you.”

For a moment, the memory of her panicked eyes, of a beautiful shade of brown, and the rushed apology on the supermarket ticket, appeared in his mind and he could not help a soft smile. Then, he lifted his hand and tousled Yahiko's hair softly. The teenager's eyes stared directly at his, a sudden wave of uncertainty shining briefly in them.

“You'll free her, right?”

Shingen smiled widely, feeling strangely proud of that boy he barely knew but who already felt like a little brother to him.

“Leave it to me, kid.”

It was late at night when the young woman got up from bed and crossed her room. Silently, she pulled at the lowest drawer of the chest where she kept her clothes, taking it out completely, and she introduced her arm in the space. She closed her fingers around the thin device hidden there, a smartphone Umeko, her best friend, had bought for her. She extracted it from the fabric bag she had made to protect it and she switched it on.

Umeko had sent her some photos of the concert and she smiled upon seeing them, a few butterflies coming to life in her stomach when she saw one of Shingen that Umeko had edited with some hearts and sparkles, and the text “Your Husband” at the bottom.

Silly, she typed on the screen, feeling the blush that dusted her cheeks even hotter.

Also, she had notifications from communities about the band, where the fans were going overboard about their performance, and other less innocent things.

The phone vibrated when she was about to turn it off and she opened a new mail that she had received, even though she did not recognise the address at that moment. She became stunned upon reading the greeting, her heart thundering in her chest painfully, so loud that she feared for a moment somebody else could hear it.

She breathed deeply through her mouth as her fingertips brushed the screen, her pupils absorbing his words as if they were trying to engrave them in her mind.

He had read her note and she did not have to apologise for anything.

Something broke inside her and she felt weak with relief, her limbs suddenly heavy.

But he insisted on having that date he had asked for...

She bit her trembling lower lip, letting her hands fall on her lap as they held the device tightly, and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain her calmness.

A part of her was dying to say yes. Until that afternoon, she had been convinced that he had no interest in her and that he thought their engagement was a bother. That he had a lover... But the tone of his voice and the solemnity of his expression had told her of his serious commitment. And that he wanted to know more about her said that he wished to look at her as a person and not just as his freedom to live his life as he pleased.

However, a small voice at the back of her mind told her that she would embarrass herself in front of him. Up to that moment, she had been partly relieved that she had barely had to talk during his visits, as she was sure she would get flustered and stutter so much that she would be scolded in front of him.

Her fingertips hovered over the keyboard. She breathed deeply and pressed her lips in a thin line. However, she could not go on like that forever. There would be a time where she would have to break that barrier. She could not become his wife without being able to look at him directly or talk to him. And she had the feeling that if she refused, things would become awkward between them and starting a life in common under such circumstances would only damage their relationship. She needed to be brave, however nerve wracking the experience would be.

In that moment, a creak was heard in the corridor and she jumped. Quickly, she put the smartphone in her sleeve, put the drawer in its place and ran trying not to make any noise. She covered herself just in time for the door to slide a bit. She buried her face in the pillow to calm her breathing. She had discovered a few months before that her relatives sometimes watched her at night, especially when they had any suspicion about her actions. And that day events had shaken them deeply. She felt the urge to snort. As if a fiancé asking for a date with his betrothed would be something so scandalous.

After she felt calmer, she sighed and turned to the other side. She had mastered the art of feigning sleep to its finest after so many times staying up surfing the internet or chatting with her old friends until the early hours.

The minutes ticked away in the antique clock of her room until she finally heard the sliding door close again and light steps walk off until they faded in the corridor. She breathed relieved and, after listening attentively for some more time, she rummaged in her sleeve to extract the phone.

Her eyes read his messages again and then, swallowing hard, she started to type.

They had agreed to meet the following Saturday instead of the Sunday he had requested at first, to avoid suspicions, and upon telling her their plans, her best friend Umeko had readily offered her help. And that day, as he had told her, he was waiting for her at the entrance of a park situated in one of the wards in Kyoto further from her house, where her relatives would not probably find them.

For a moment, she contemplated him as he checked his mobile phone. He was leaning against one of the pillars that formed the gate, obviously dressed as not to attract too much attention though she could see that even wearing dark blue jeans, boots, a dark grey sweatshirt with an orange motive on the chest under the black gilet and a woolen hat which covered his blazing-red hair, some people turned their heads to him, admiration clearly showing in their eyes.

“He's even more gorgeous when up close” Umeko's voice contained a mixture of amusement and admiration, and then, she felt a soft push on the shoulder. “Come on, go and show them that he's taken.”

She turned to her friend, a grateful smile dancing in her lips.

“Thank you very much, Umeko...”

The girl nodded and then winked at her.

“Enjoy your date, and send me a text when you want me to pick you up.”

She made an affirmative sound and then, opened the door of the car.

Umeko observed her as she made her way to her future husband, and how he lifted his face when he sensed her near and smiled. Maybe it was not the smile of someone in love but at least, it was the gesture of a sincerely contented man who appreciated what he was seeing. She smiled satisfied as she used her turn signal and, giving them a last glance, joined the traffic to leave them in their own world.

“I'm glad to see you again” he replied to her formal bow and greeting. “And with not so many witnesses around us.”

She nodded briefly and swallowed hard, not really trusting her voice. Her heartbeat was almost deafening and she was sure that if there was not so much traffic and people walking and chatting around them, he could have heard it clearly.

“Did you have any problems to come today? Did your family said something, or were suspicious?”

“N-No...”

She frowned and berated herself when the first stutter left her lips. It was as if his mere presence rendered her unable to think or move coherently. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to even her breath. He was someone she had never dreamt of being near of, a man who had meant the world to her since she was a teenager. However, he was also a human being, like her, and the person she would share her life with. She had to gather her thoughts and courage, and start treating him, not just as her idol, but as her future husband.

“Are you feeling okay?”

His concerned voice brought her back to reality and she realised that her fear of embarrassing herself in front of him was becoming a reality.

“I'm sorry...”

Shingen looked at her slightly confused, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at her face.

“I'm making a fool of myself...” she lifted her hand and with the back, she touched the burning skin of her cheeks. “I'm really nervous today...”

A tender smile drew across his lips, realising that what for him was something pleasant and quite common like a tryst, for her, it probably was a nerve wracking situation between breaking even more rules imposed to her than just merely escaping to see a concert and being with someone she admired deeply. He recalled her brother's words about his band and himself in the warehouse, and understood that he could not behave as always with his past lovers or friends with benefits. He would have to break her walls one by one, forcefully and at the same time, gently.

“You don't have to apologise” she side-glanced at him. “Just forget about all that, at least for a few minutes” she furrowed her brows in a delicate frown, wondering what he had meant by 'all that' but he continued. “I just want you to enjoy today and, as I told your aunt, to get to know you a bit better” he let out a little sigh. “We're going to get married and I don't even know what your favourite colour is.”

'Even though you probably know everything about me...' the afterthought that flashed in his mind after his own words

She watched him for a few seconds and then, a small, wistful smile appeared on her face.

“You're right” she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly. “I should probably relax a bit and appreciate what Umeko and you are doing for me. It's just...” she paused, giving some thinking to her next words. “I think I'm not used to unwind anymore...”

He observed her for a moment, having a slight suspicion about that pause she had made, but did not say anything about it. Up to that moment, she had not mentioned a thing about him being a famous musician and, even though it intrigued him, especially since he knew how she felt about him, he decided it was not the time to bring up the topic, seeing her finally at ease in his company.

“Okay” he said putting one of his hands on his hip. “Did you think of anywhere you'd like to go?”

“Not really...” her cheeks became a bit warm when he smiled, but she swallowed, reflexively clenching her fingers into fists to suppress the anxious feeling that was, once again, arising in her chest, focusing her thoughts on her words. “You told me that you wanted to take me somewhere special so I didn't really give it too much thought. I'm really fine with any type of food.”

His smile widened.

“I wasn't talking about any restaurants, but about another place I think you'll appreciate much more.”

For a moment, a flash of mischief played in his amber pupils and her aunt's words when she had refused his request of a date with her sounded in her mind. However, she shook her head lightly, refusing to think that had been his purpose since the beginning. She had decided to trust him when she had accepted to go out with him, and that was what she was going to do.

“There's a taxi stop at a short walk from here” he extended his hand to her. “Let's go?”

She stared at it for a moment and then, she pressed her mouth in a thin line, her fingers closing tightly around the handle of her small bag. A single word left her lips and Shingen stared at her curiously.

“That's my favourite colour.”

His smile was wide and sincere, and she found herself answering it with one of her own while she extended her arm put her fingers in his palm. His slightly calloused skin was warm and she felt a pleasant tingle when he took hold of hers, tugging so she would follow him.

They walked at a leisure step, Shingen asking her simple questions about her hobbies and tastes and answering some of hers. From time to time, she glanced around, especially when she felt someone staring at them. She chuckled silently and that drew his attention.

“What's so funny?”

She shook her head.

“Nothing really... I was just thinking that no matter how you disguise yourself, you attract people's attention.”

He grinned at the amused edge of her words and how she had lowered her guard against her own thoughts.

“I know it's not the best one but at least, it conceals my special traits” he brushed the red bangs which sticked out of his woolen hat. “It'll be too much of a bother if they recognised me right away, when all I want is to enjoy this day with you” he watched satisfied as her expression became somewhat disconcerted. “And,” he added. “how do you know that they're not looking at you” he gave her a side smile. “That kimono really suits you.”

A wave of shyness washed over her. It was true that, after thinking and considering clothes for far longer that she had ever done, she had finally opted for her favourite kimono, a tsukesage in shades of purple with a seasonal motive in the hem, the upper part of the back and the sleeves, and as Umeko used to say, it was obvious in every one of her gestures and expressions that she loved to wear it.

However, she had never faced such an open flirting, not even in the only relationship she had had in all her life. Her boyfriend in high school had been easy-going and fun, but he had always felt a bit awkward when they had been in a situation that could lead to a romantic outcome. He had never behaved in any remotely similar way to how Shingen was doing. And she did not know well how to react.

Before she could think of a right way to answer his comment, he stopped, pointing to the row of taxis next to them.

“Come on, let's be quick or we'll be late.”

Instead of a place where they could have more privacy, the taxi stopped at the entrance of a large venue. As she got out of the vehicle, looking at the building with open curiosity, Shingen started rummaging in the bag he carried. He, then extracted two passes.

“Keep this with you all the time” he said giving her one with the logo of his band. “Though... I don't know if the clip will damage your kimono...”

“Don't worry” she replied, taking it from him and observing the little clamp for a moment before securing it in one of the inner wraps of her obi. “The fabric is not very delicate and in case it leaves a mark, nobody will see it there.”

He opened his gilet and hanged it from the belt of his jeans.

“Now we're ready” he took her hand again, pulling her towards the entrance.

“But, where are we going?” she tried to remember if the band had any event that morning, in whose case, he could not have been there with her.

His only response was an enigmatic smile over his shoulder.

They entered the building through a glass automatic sliding door, being greeted by a security guard and some of the venue workers and finally, he stopped just in front of a double door with a small window at the top. He turned and his grin was even wider than before. She inhaled deeply, trying to regain her breath after trying to match his long strides across the hall.

“I talked to our manager so you could watch our rehearsal for tomorrow night's concert” her eyes opened, pure bewilderment flashing in them, regarding him, and her lower lip hung slightly open, feeling unable to react. “After all,” he lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “You're my most precious fan.”

His words sounded deeply inside her and her chin trembled a bit. It was impossible that he knew her secret, she had been extremely careful not to let a single word about him or his band, or her deep admiration for him out, and it was impossible that with such a short time together he could have figured it out.

“Ho... do you know that...?”

“A little bird who loves you dearly showed me a very special room where my lovely fiancee keeps her treasures...”

She was mortified. He had learnt all her deepest secrets without her realising and now she was sure he would definitely feel uncomfortable with her. However, at that moment, her racing mind registered two facts. He had already known by the time they had met, and also, he had just called her 'lovely'...

“Don't look so troubled” he bent over her a bit to take a better look at her face. “He did it because he adores you so don't be too hard on him when you return home.”

She blinked slowly.

“Yahiko...?”

He nodded and was about to add something else when a stingy voice interrupted them.

“Could you cut out the flirting so we can start the rehearsal?” both of them turned , finding a blond man watching them with a disgusted expression.

Shingen gave him a side- looped smile and then, glanced at her, who was still recovering her composure.

“I bet you didn't expect our little angel to have such a sharp tongue. He's always so polite and smiles complacently to the public, but it's better not to be on the wrong side in one of his bad days.”

“So?” he crossed his arms on his chest and glanced at her for a moment with apparent disinterest. “Who's the wrench?” there were murmurs approaching, and behind Ieyasu, a few figures appeared after turning a corner, chatting among them. “It seems that you forgot that outsiders are forbidden after the mayhem with Hideyoshi and his messy double-dating game.”

That comment gained the irated glare of one of the other men who had just stopped by them.

“Don't you dare talk about Hideyoshi like that!”

They both got into an argument immediately and the others groaned, except for a light-built man with short light brown hair, who just smiled.

“And before you ask,” Shingen murmured in a clearly amused tone. “Yes, they're always like that.”

She stared worriedly at them for a few more seconds and then tilted her head upwards.

“Is it really okay for me to be here?”

But before he could answer, a blond man with an almost ethereal presence, turned to them and peered at her with slightly closed eyelids and a pleasant smile.

“And who is this charming lady, little tiger? An acquaintance?”

“She's my fiancée” his expression softened as he glanced at her, watching her cheeks dusted with a soft colour and her fingers grasp the handle of her bag even tighter, as she introduced herself to them.

Silence hung for a long moment in the hall and then, all of them started to talk at the same time, alternating incredulous remarks, the loudest ones from a man with dark hair and a pink T-shirt, with some congratulations and skeptical looks. All those ended when another man entered the scene and put some order. After a new introduction, the man ushered them all inside, indicating the musicians to take their places on the stage and her, a seat in the third row.

Shingen took out his gilet and sweatshirt, under which he wore a dark orange sleeveless T-shirt, leaving all that on the seat next to her. Before straightening and going with his mates, a slow smile drew across his lips and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction, a small spark of untamed passion flickering in them.

“I hope you have the time of your life.”

It was difficult to recognise the meek girl he had met a few weeks ago in the exultant young woman who walked beside him at the moment. Shingen watched her almost fascinated. It was as if every cell of her body was alive and everything, her steps, her posture, her long hair swaying in the gentle breeze, radiated light.

“So,” he said, lifting his brows slightly and pursing his lips momentarily. “I assume that you liked my surprise.”

She turned to him, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“It was one of the most beautiful things someone has ever done for me” she stopped, facing him and bowing. “Thank you very much, I'll never forget it.”

“Come on,” he said putting a hand in his hip. “Don't be so formal now.”

“But it was something amazing, like a dream coming true. I've heard a whole performance, I've talked with you all and you even invited them to our wedding...” she covered part of her face, trying to hide her embarrassment. “I won't be able to return such an unbelievable gift, even if I had three lives...”

Shingen laughed, watching each and every one of the small changes in her expression. Something inside him wondered how many more layers and expressions she had, and if he would be able to uncover them all.

“You don't have to give anything. I knew it would mean so much to you and it was something really easy to achieve.”

But she was not listening to him.

“Hey...” he insisted.

“I know!” her little outburst startled him. “I'll cook for you.”

He lifted an elegant brow, looking doubtfully at her.

“Do you know how to cook?”

She frowned, her eyes flashing with an offended gleam.

“”What do you take me for?” she crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her chin defiantly. “My father was convinced that you can't manage a food emporium without knowing it in depth. He was a great cook and he taught me well” her eyes misted a bit. “He had started to let Yahiko into the kitchen when... he passed away.”

It still hurt. Even though years had passed, she still missed them dearly and in each step of her life, she wondered what they would do in her place, and if they would have been proud of her. Now that her wedding approached, she wished they would be there to see her become a bride.

Shingen watched the change in her with concern, though he could understand it. His parents were still alive but he had missed the warmth of a true family and she had had it but lost it under tragic circumstances. However, it was easier to live without it not having experienced it than having done it and then being deprived of it.

He touched her back softly, attracting her attention back to him, and offered her a small smile.

“Alright, if you're so convinced, I'd love to try your food.”

She breathed deeply and then returned his smile, nodding.

“Though I have to warn you that my fridge is almost empty. I barely eat at home and when I return at night, I either grab something to eat at the convenience store or buy some take-out.”

She frowned.

“That's not healthy at all” he shrugged lightly and she sighed, a small sound vibrating in her throat. “Okay, I'll make you something really nutritive to give you strength for tomorrow's concert, so first, we have to stop by a supermarket.”

Once they arrived at his flat, he took out his keys from his jeans pocket.

“Welcome to your future home, milady” he said half jokingly opening the door for her to see a spacious hall.

She doubted for a moment, suddenly becoming fully conscious of the place where she was about to enter, and a sense of trepidation overwhelmed her. Shingen gazed at her, expectant at first and uneasy later, as if he was suddenly aware of her feelings. His smile faltered.

“If you're having second thoughts about this, we can still go to eat somewhere. There are some good restaurants in this area that can take us without a reservation” he made a motion to take the shopping bag she was carrying. “Give that to me. I'll put everything in the fridge and Kansuke can sort it out later.”

She shook her head, lifting her eyes to him. Her pupils still showed a hint of insecurity but her expression was serene.

“I'm fine.”

And then, she stepped into the house.

She took off her sandals, putting them correctly out of habit, and then, glanced at him, waiting for him to show her the way. The flat was a luxurious one room duplex with a spacious living room with enormous windows from where they could overwatch great part of the city. On their left, there was a completely equipped open plan kitchen with breakfast bar and beyond, a staircase led to the bedroom. Under the second floor, a half opened Japanese sliding door let her get a glimpse of a large bathroom with an ample vintage bath in the centre.

Shingen watched satisfied as she looked around filled with curiosity, her previous apprehension seemingly vanished.

“This way” he guided her to the kitchen and, after leaving their bags on the breakfast bar, both of them searched through all the cupboards and drawers to find the kitchenware she would need.

“Is there anything you can't eat?” she asked once everything had been placed in an orderly way.

He shook his head and then, leant his weight on the counter beside her.

“Are you sure you don't need any help?”

“Do you know how to cook?” she answered with a question of her own, and then pursed her lips seeing him deny it again. “Then, it's better if I do it alone” she gathered her sleeves. “Do you have anything that could be useful to tie them?”

“Maybe.”

Shingen returned with a male obi tha he had folded in three.

“But I didn't-” she was interrupted when he started to fasten them expertly.

“I don't keep ribbons or anything like that here, so this must do” he saw her open her mouth to reply but was faster. “And if it worries you so much, it's an old one, and made of synthetic fabric, so it's easy to take care of it.”

She sighed, resigned.

“And now, since I only would be in the way, I'll disappear from here and make myself decent.”

And turning around, he took the set of clothes he had left on the breakfast bar and made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving her dumbfounded and with the thought of having her fiancé taking a bath just a few metres away from her.

“This is delicious” Shingen picked up a few more vegetables with his chopsticks and ate them almost greedily, enjoying every single bit.

“I'm glad” she could not help the proud smile as she watched him, picking up a piece of meat from her own plate. He had come out of the bathroom just in time for the food to be served. They were sitting at the dining table he had near the enormous windows that faced the city, the sky a light shade of blue with only a few clouds floating in the distance.

He had changed into another pair of jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt and his red hair, long and luxuriant, fell down his back except for a lock which fell across his shoulder and chest.

He seemed to notice how her eyes returned to it once and again and he smiled, letting his chopsticks on the rest and propping an elbow on the table, his cheek leaning on his hand, some of his tresses following the movement and hanging like a curtain behind his shoulder, the light spreading its reflection on it.

“Anything interesting you care to share with me?”

His smile was flirtatious again, like that morning and a small voice inside her warned her against him. The situation was completely different and now they were alone in his own territory. And he was like a tiger, as Kenshin had called him, elegant, fascinating, tempting and dangerous.

She turned her attention to her own food and took her time to answer, searching for a convincing reason.

“I feel envious” she finally said, setting for the most inofensive reply she had been able to come up in such a short time. “You have really beautiful hair while mine” she took one of her locks, “ is just... normal.”

Before she could drop it, he got a hold of it and slided it down between his fingers, twisting the end loosely in his index.

“It's soft like silk...”

The warning filled her mind again but before she could act on it, he let it fall from his grasp and resumed his meal.

“I hope you can come back to cook for me again soon... It's been long since I had such a satisfying meal like this.”

The young woman smiled, feeling disconcerted at the sudden change in his behaviour and not really trusting her voice at that moment, quickly eating something to fill her silence.

Some minutes later, they finished the main course and she went back to the kitchen to bring tea and some dessert. Shingen widened his eyes in surprise and delight as she put a small plate with a few pieces of kinako mochi in front of him.

“I can't believe you managed to make this feast and my favourite sweets in such a short amount of time.”

“A good cook knows how to organise themselves and their time” she replied sitting down again.

He did not waste a second to try it, and she felt pleased to see his expression of joy. Way before she finished hers, he had eaten everything, not leaving even the smallest piece.

After finishing the tea and, as she showed sign to stand up, he beat her to it and picked up the tableware.

“I can do this” he said with a small smile. “Even I know how a dishwasher works” she laughed softly. “Have some rest while you can.”

He finished tidying everything up quickly, not wanting to waste the minutes they could still be together, but when he returned to the table, he did not find her resting. Instead, she was looking through the window at the city that extended beyond, the outline of the old buildings and pagodas giving the skyline the appearance of a city from a time long gone. Her fingers were barely touching the glass and it was obvious that her mind was far from there. Frowning slightly, wondering what had absorbed her mind so deeply, he stood by her, studying her profile, her long hair falling freely from the hairpin that gathered the top half of her tresses at her nape and the sparkles that the sunlight brought to her eyes.

When he realised it, he had lifted his hand to touch her, but before he could lower it down, she turned her head to him, staring into his eyes, serene and relaxed.

“What were you thinking?” his voice was barely a murmur, low and quiet.

Her cheeks covered in a beautiful shade of pink, but her eyes never wavered.

“That I'll get to see this view and live this life every day once I become your wife.”

Shingen swallowed hard because he knew he was about to give a step forward and he felt slightly uneasy that she would not follow, because a marriage to him was not just a quiet moment and a gold ring and after hours of relishing in the company of each other, sharing what both loved, there was another way of getting to know each other that he wanted to try up to where she let him. His fingertips caressed her warm skin and, maybe reading in his pupils his intention, she smiled softly.

He bent forward slowly to give her time to step back, to stop him, but she did not and he was the one who, stopped just a breath away from her face.

“Have you been kissed before?”

Her cheeks burnt at his question, her eyes searching his questioningly.

“O-Only once... A long time ago...”

He blinked slowly, his golden pupils never truly leaving hers, as he brushed her lower lip with the tip of his thumb in a deliberate caress. Her eyelids fluttered closed and Shingen dropped his finger, replacing it with his mouth, reminding himself to be gentle in that first chaste kiss. Her mouth tasted like the dessert they had eaten a few minutes ago and he felt compelled to try it again. He had barely separated from her when he returned, pressing more urgently against her, his teeth gracing the plump flesh of her mouth. Their breaths mingled as they parted for just a fleeting moment, seeking each other again, his tongue delving between her lips to entice her to follow him without reserves. A small sound left her throat, her fingers grasping the sleeves of his T-shirt when she felt her legs shake and Shingen's arms held her tighter against him. She was almost out of breath, her chest burning when he finally released her, his mouth brushing her cheek, dropping feathered kisses along it.

“You're so adorable... so endearing...”

He nuzzled at her jaw whispering her name and venturing lower. His lips locked on her throat, his teeth gracing her skin. Her heart thundered in her chest, abruptly taking her out of the pleasurable bliss she had been drowning in, and her eyes widened, her hands pushing at his chest.

“No, please...” she begged. “I can't have any... marks...”

He stilled, his mouth leaving her neck. However, he did not move. Instead, she felt the tip of his tongue trace slowly, almost lazily, a small pattern on her skin, making her shiver. Then, he pecked the same spot and lifted his head to look at her. His pupils were darken than before, almost golden like the sunset, a wave of desire still lingering in them. She lowered her head, feeling strangely awkward.

“I'm sorry...”

He cupped her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks softly.

“Don't” he kissed her once again, briefly. “I just got impatient...”

Shingen leant his forehead against hers as her fingers covered the back of one of his hands.

“If it's a must, we'll wait until our wedding night” a mischievous smirk drew across his lips. “But I warn you that after so much restraining, I won't be letting you sleep at all, so be ready.”

He laughed heartily when she pouted a bit, her cheeks as red as ripped apples, and then, he drew her closer in a loving embrace. Her fingers grasped the back of his T-shirt and she buried her face in his chest.

“I promise you that I'll do whatever in my hand to make you happy.”

“And I'll try my best to become a woman you can fall in love with.”

He kissed the top of her head.

“You're fine as you are now. Your sweet side is charming, as well as the fire and the strength that lie behind it. In your own way, you're a great woman and I'm starting to like her much more than I had imagined at first.”

Her only response was to tighten her hold around him and he thought that they would really be happy, despite the peebles that life had and would be putting in their way. After all, he had a admirable woman beside him, one that he felt he had already started to love.

#slbp #2019SLBPCupidExchange #slbp shingen #michverse #otome0heart #fanfic

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steviemae · 6 years

Text

babysitter // sp - pt.11

babysitter masterlist.

author’s note: just wanted to say first, that i gave y/n’s father a last name instead of putting y/l/n. to clarify, Tessa and y/n’s father are half siblings so to make things easier, Tessa will have y/l/n and Taylor is the last name of the readers father. in the wattpad story, i gave the character a name instead of using a reader insert but kept it a reader insert for tumblr bc that’s what a lot of you wanted. so to make things less confusing, i wanted to let you know before you started reading! enjoy (:

During lunch you were able to sneak away from Sweet Pea and meet Betty in the Blue and Gold. She was already there when you walked in, nose stuck in her laptop as she scrolled through whatever she had looked up.

“Oh good, you’re here. Okay, so i started with your mom. I found absolutely nothing on her. No obituary, no public records from being arrested. It’s like she never existed.” she said. You looked over her shoulder as she scrolled.

“What about my dad?” You asked bringing a chair over to sit next to her.

“He was a Serpent, that’s for sure. He also has a pretty hefty track record. No drugs or theft though. All fights he’s been in and gotten arrested for; the usual Serpent track record. This is interesting though, the death date on his obituary isn’t the date you told me.” She pointed at the date on the paper. A completely different date than what you have set in your brain as the anniversary of your parent’s death. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.

“I can’t find anything that states how either of them died. But i think i might know who we can ask. Meet me at the Register after your detention is over.” You gave her a nod and gathered everything up when you heard the bell signal that lunch was over. Shoving the files into your bag as you walked into the hallway you bumped into someone. You looked up to apologize, “Oh sorry, Principal Weatherbee.”

“Ms. y/l/n. You skipped detention yesterday. Might i ask why?” He gave you a stern look.

“I - um - my aunt called me. Someone destroyed my car.” You technically weren’t lying. Someone did in fact destroy your car. You pulled out your phone to show him pictures, “i’ll stay late tomorrow to make up for it. I just needed to go get my car taken care of.” You explained.

“If you show up for detention today, i’ll let it slide. I know things have been difficult for you lately and i hope it has nothing to do with those thugs you’ve been running around with. I don’t mind cutting you some slack seeing as you’ve never been in my office for anything worth reprimanding. Don’t make the same mistake twice, Ms. y/l/n.” and with that he walked away.

In detention you pulled out your laptop to finish your digging that you and Betty started at lunch. You deciding to look up Johnathan and see what dirt you could find. Scrolling through the endless reports of violence from the many fights he’s been arrested for, you decided that you probably weren’t going to find much. You looked up your mother again in hopes of finding something, but came up short. Betty was right, it’s like she wasn’t even real.

“Ms. y/l/n? What are you doing in detention?” you looked up and saw Mr. Anderson. He was an older gentleman and taught English here. Turns out he’s also the one who monitors detention.

“I punched Reggie Mantle in the mouth.” You said nonchalantly.

“I’m sure he deserved it. Get out of here. I’ll tell Principal Weatherbee you finished out your time in detention. Just don’t let me catch you in here again, young lady.” He said. Wow, being an honor roll student who never gets in trouble is really paying off.

Sweet Pea had text you earlier telling you to call him when your detention was over and he’d come get you. You told him not to worry about it, that Betty and her mom asked you to help with the Register so they were picking you up. He was annoyed but said he’d be at the Wyrm. You opened the door to the Register and the bell dinged making Betty look up from whatever she was looking at on the desk.

“You’re here earlier than expected.”

“Thank god for Mr. Anderson.” you said jokingly making prayer hands and raising them to the sky while laughing.

“Alright, we have to make a pit stop at the bank before we go to the morgue.”

“The morgue? Betty why are we going where they keep dead people?”

“Because where there are dead people, there are autopsy reports. And finding your dad’s autopsy report will tell us where and how he died. Same for your mom.” She said like it was obvious. You let out a long drawn out oh finally catching onto what she was saying, “But why do we need to stop at the bank?” You asked confused.

“If we want him to give us information we need money. It’ll keep him quiet.” She explained.

“Lead the way, Penny Brown.” You said making Betty look at you with a confused looked.

“Penny Brown? The blonde with pigtails from the Inspector Gadget show? I was going to say Nancy Drew, but that’s who Veronica jokes you are all the time and i wanted to be different.” You said sheepishly.

“Out the door,” she said shooing you but letting out a slight laugh at your stupid analogy.

“Small bills, right?” Betty asked handing over the envelope. He took the envelope checking that it was all there and nodding.

“What can i help you girls with?” he asked.

“We need to look in your records for anything in the year 2006.” Betty answered. The old man motioned for you to follow him and walked you into a storage room with filing cabinets lining the walls and a small desk sitting in the middle. Anything from 2000-now is in this cabinet. Happy snooping.” He said walking out of the room leaving you two to look through everything.

“Well that was easy.” you mumbled. Yout walked over to the file cabinet he said was the one you would need, “Of course the old man wouldn’t have anything organized.” you said rolling your eyes. You flicked through the top drawer while Betty sat on the floor and flicked through the bottom.

“This might take a while.” Betty said closing the drawer she went through.

“Do think the date on the obituary is wrong?” Betty asked.

“I’m not sure. Neither one of them were buried, Tess told me they wanted to be cremated. Johnny said the gang got together and had some kind of ash spreading memorial for the both of them. I only have what Johnny and Tess told me to go by.”

“We could always search the cemetery. Maybe they were buried. They’ve lied to you this long about how and when they died, who’s to say they didn’t lie about burying them too.” Better stated. You pondered for a second realizing that she was right.

“Wait, what’s your dad’s full name again?” She asked.

“Johnathan Daniel Taylor.”

“Never trust a man with three first names.” She said pulling out a file.

“Johnny’s named after him and with all these lies, that statement couldn't be any more true. Did you find it?” She gave you a nod walking over to the desk.

“He was beaten and stabbed pretty badly. He bled out before the ambulance got there. It says that his Serpent tattoo was sliced off.” She paused and looked at you.

“What?” You asked moving closer to look at the file. Betty flipped through the photos and you stopped her, something catching your eye.

“I don’t know. A ‘Q’ maybe.” She said staring at the letter carved into your father’s arm.

“Take pictures of all of this so we can print it out at my house. I’m going to look for my moms again. It has to be in here somewhere.”

“Did she even take your dad’s last name when they got married?”

“I just assumed she did. To be honest, i never saw any wedding pictures.”

“Do you have any idea what her maiden name might’ve been?” Betty asked. You shook your head no, closing the drawer with a loud slam.

“Why can’t we find anything on her for fucks sake.”

“I don’t know, y/n. i wish i could find something to ease your stress.” She walked over to you and hugged you as your angry tears started to fall.

“Maybe i can use all of what we found on my dad as leverage to get information about my mom. I can’t just go in and ask someone at the Wyrm what her last name was. They’d tell Johnny.” you pulled away from Betty and wiped your face, “let’s to go.” You thanked the old man as you walked out to Betty’s car.

“There’s no way you have connections at the Sheriff’s station do you?” You asked Betty hopefully.

“None. We could ask Keller if he has any info but that would risk Kev finding out. We could go talk to Veronica. Her dad is friends with Sheriff Minetta.” She said.

“I’m not sure i want to get mixed up with the Lodge’s. I love Ronnie, but asking her dad to do this will result in me owing him a favor and i don’t want to owe that man anything.” You said. Betty nodded understandingly.

“Can you take me to the Wyrm? My car is still in the shop and i told Sweet Pea i’d be there when i finished helping you and your mom.”

Honestly without a friend like Betty, you probably wouldn’t have found out half as much as you did today. She was god’s gift to solving mysteries. When the two of you walked into the Wyrm, the gang was in the middle of a meeting. Jughead and Sweet Pea’s eyes met yours and they rushed over to you.

“Both of you need to get home now.” Jughead said.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” Betty asked concerned.

“Fangs is getting out and they’re rioting. I can’t let anything happen to you but i need to make sure Fangs doesn’t get ripped to pieces. For the love of god, princess, go home and stay there.” Pea pleaded. You cupped his cheek to calm his nerves. He was terrified that something was going to happen to his best friend and with you running around town, he didn’t want to worry about something happening to you,“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll stay at y/n’s until everything clears up.” Betty told Jug, looking at you to see if that was okay.

“I can meet you at y/n’s house.” Jughead asked, “Keep each other safe.” You and Betty nodded and hugged your significant other’s. Pea gave you a loving kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead and telling you to be safe.

Betty drove through southside and everything seemed fine. Normal. But the second you guys crossed over to the northside, it was pure chaos. Trash cans on fire. People running amuck, angrily waving picket signs around.

“Oh my god.” You whispered looking over at Betty who shared the same shocked and slightly scared expression. Betty cautiously drove through the crowds of people trying to safely get the two of you to your house. When she pulled into your driveway the both of you booked it to your front door.

“Baby? Is that you?” Tessa yelled through the house sounding a little scared herself.

“Yeah, it’s me and Betty!” you called back walking into the living room to find her watching the news to keep updated on everything that’s happening. She rushed to you and hugged you tightly, “Thank god. I was hoping you weren’t going to the station to get Fangs. I know he’s your friend but your safety means more to me.” She said.

“I’m fine. I’m not leaving the rest of the night. Jughead’s coming to pick up Betty later and Sweets will be here soon too.” You told her. You lead Betty upstairs to your room and pulled out everything you had from today. You handed Betty your laptop so she could pull up all the photos she took on her phone using icloud and print them out.

“How are we going to get into the police station to find the reports for that night?” She asked and you sat on your bed looking through everything.

“I don’t know. I’d say with how distracted the police are, right now would be a good time but that would risk us getting caught by Juggie and Sweet Pea. If either of them found out, they’d tell Johnny and this whole thing would be over. Do you think we could get hospital records too? Surely there has to be some report from the ambulance. Maybe someone at the hospital can give me information on my mom since we can’t find anything.”

“We can always go there tomorrow. I doubt with everything going on there going to have school.” You’re phone started ringing catching both yours and Betty’s attention. Reaching for your bag, you grabbed your phone out, “It’s Archie.” Sliding your thumb across the screen to answer the phone, “Hello?”

“y/n. You have to get to the school now. Sweet Pea is on a rampage. He’s trashing the whole place.” His voice was rushed and urgent.

“What happened, Archie?”

“Fangs was shot. Sweet Pea and the other Serpents think it was Reggie, but i promise it wasn’t. Mrs. Klump shot him and she’s at the station now. Just get here and calm him down before he does something even more stupid.” He hung up.

“Pea is trashing the school. Fangs got shot. It was Mrs. Klump but the Serpents think it was Reggie. We have to go.” You guys rushed to put everything away and hide it in your closet so your aunt wouldn’t find it before running down the stairs. You ran past your aunt ignoring her calls for you not to leave, that it was too dangerous.

Betty drove to the school as fast as she could trying not to hit all of the angry idiots running through the streets. When she pulled up the front of the school you hopped out, “Go home. I’ll be with Sweet Pea so i’ll be fine. Text me when you get home.”

“Same to you.” with that she drove off. You turned and ran into the school. It wasn’t hard to find Sweet Pea. Him and other Serpents were in the main hallway trashing everything.

“Sweet Pea!” You yelled seeing him walk down the steps slashing the canvas painting of the school that hung on the wall.

“Get the hell out of here, y/n.” he growled.

“I’m not going anywhere until you calm down and come with me.” You demanded.

“Serpents! Stop!” you heard Archie yell.

“Great” you mumbled to yourself knowing this was only going to fire Sweet Pea up even more.

“Well, fellas, looks like we found some bulldog’s to put down.” he pushed past you and walked to the middle of the hallway meeting Archie, Moose and Kevin halfway. Sweet Pea’s voice didn’t sound like him. It was like a whole other person took over and it scared you a little.

“Sweet Pea, i swear, Reggie didn’t shoot Fangs.” Archie reasoned.

“Bull. i saw Mantle with a gun!” Sweet Pea spat.

“Then you also saw me tackle him before he got a shot off! It was Midge’s mom! She’s down at the station.” Archie tried so hard to reason with Sweet Pea. To get not only him, but you out of the school and home.

“Yeah and Fangs is still clinging to life!” Sweet Pea yelled making you jump slightly, “And whether it was Reggie or Mrs. Klump who pulled the trigger, a Northsider put him there.” He walked over to a trash can and grabbed it, “You took our friend, our land. You’ll take everything if we give you the chance. So now you get to watch as we burn your school to the ground.” He dumped the trash onto the floor and chucked the trash can into the trophy case, right where you were standing, making the glass shatter all over the place. You jumped out of the way letting out a scream. Sweet Pea looked at you, his face softening realizing he almost hit you, “y/n, i’m so sorry, i-” he was cut off by Principal Weatherbee slamming the doors opened, “What the hell do you boys think you’re doing to my school.” before anyone could say anything you ran out of the school, ignoring Sweet Pea who was running after you.

“y/n, stop. Please.” he begged. No matter how angry he was at the world right now, he pushed it aside knowing that he fucked up and let it get too far. He almost hurt you and fixing that was more important.

“y/n, god dammit. Stop running.” he finally caught up to you and grabbed your arm tightly but not so tight that he hurt you. He spun you around to face him.

“Look at me, please.” his voice was full of regret and hurt and his eyes filled with sorrow. You shook your head. You wanted to be angry at him and if you looked into his deep amber eyes, you weren’t going to be able to stay mad at him.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were standing there. I wouldn’t have done that had i known you moved from the stairs.”

“You were too pissed to pay any attention.” You snapped at him. The conversation was cut short when Jughead showed up, wrangling all of the young Serpents to the Wyrm.

“I can’t just sit here!” Sweet Pea yelled.

“You don’t have a choice, Sweet Pea, you’re staying put.” Jughead said slamming him into the wall behind him. You sat at the bar, far away from the angry Serpents that surrounded one of the pool tables.

“You said it yourself, the Ghoulies are back! We have to deal with them.” He spat.

“As soon as my dad gets back-”

“Oh, so you’re not our leader all of a sudden. Oh no, that’s right, you’re just the guy who got Fangs shot!”

“Watch it.” Jughead spat at your boyfriend.

“And now Fangs might die! And the Ghoulies are out for our blood because of a drag race you started.” Sweet Pea continued shoving Jughead’s chest.

“An hour. That’s all i’m asking for Sweet Pea.” Jughead negotiated, “In the meantime, why don’t you go make sure your girl is okay. The Ghoulies and the black hood are after her too y’know.” Sweet Pea ignored Jughead as he turned and punched the wall he was shoved up against just moments ago and walked to the back of the bar. Far from where you sat with Toni.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked placing her hand on the hand that was sat in your lap. Your other playing with your straw. You nodded your head, “Yeah, just shook up, i guess.” you told her, shrugging your shoulders.

“What happened?”

“Sweets threw a trash can at my head without realizing i was standing there. And with all this stuff going on right now, i just don’t know what to do.” She nodded giving your hand a squeeze.

“Can you take me home? I’d ask Pea but he’s thinking with his anger right now and i don’t want to deal with all that.” Toni told you to wait at your seat while she went to get her jacket and keys from behind the bar. When she came back the two of you left, going unnoticed.

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