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strayen-fx · 4 years

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Doubtless

》 Lee Minho x Reader

》 Angst, Fluffy end

》 Pangs of jealousy could still hit an established relationship, or where Minho is a choreographer and Y/N can't help but feel jealous because of a certain idol Minho is teaching.

》 Wordcount: 2.5k

》 Warnings: mention of overwork, insecurity

》 a/n: I'm back, hi! hihi

°°°

Being in a relationship with Minho hasn't been the easiest thing, but for you, it has been the bestest decision you have ever made.

You were college sweethearts, both of you meeting at an audition for the school's official dance group. After graduating, Minho decided to join a famous dance studio as one of its choreographers while you chose to focus on your professional field.

Adulting didn't come easy, as the two of you were bombarded with busy schedules for almost every week on end. It hasn't been the easiest thing, but after some time, the both of you have learned to adjust and manage your time. You have also decided to move in together, because 1.) you wanted to spend as much of your free time with each other as possible, and 2.) let's be honest, rent is expensive af.

Despite that, it was still difficult for you to spend quality time together because of Minho's hectic and jam-packed sched. Even in weekends, he would be busy coming up with dance moves for the kpop groups assigned to him. Hence, you usually make up to this by visiting him in the studio and bringing him your homecooked meals. You would bring a portion for you as well so you could eat with him. This is something that he adored so much, it eventually became a regular routine for weekends.

That Saturday was no exception. Wearing your favorite casual clothes plus Minho's purple hoodie, you drove to the dance studio with packed lunch for the both of you. You greeted the other dancers you met in the building, and there you met Momo, another buddy in your college dance group.

"Y/nnieeee!!!" Momo said, approaching you into a tight hug. "I've missed you!"

You returned the hug and giggled. "We only met like last week though?"

"That is forever ago. You should just work with us here so I could always hang out with you," Momo complained.

"Once I get fired in my current job, I'll be sure to send you my resume."

"Should I use my connections to get you fired, then?"

You talked with Momo for a while, until she remembered that she left her students unsupervised and she was only supposed to get some water.

"Minho is in Studio E," Momo said. "He's assigned to teach a rookie girl group, my forte, while I'm assigned to a dorky and loud boy group. Where's justice in that?" She sighed deeply. "Anyway. I'll get going. Let's grab coffee some time!"

You waved and watched as Momo begrudgingly trudged towards Studio A. You laughed a bit to yourself before heading to the opposite direction.

When you peered through the door of Studio E, you noticed at least six ladies sitting on the floor, talking and fanning themselves. You knocked twice before opening the door. Few of the girls looked up and bowed awkwardly. They probably thought you were just a staff bringing Minho some food.

The man in question, however, failed to notice you. He was busy giving a one-on-one lesson to another girl, them being the only ones standing. It probably shouldn't have irked you so much, seeing that Minho is a choreographer and it is, indeed, his job to teach idols their choreography. However, being a dancer yourself and watching them there for a solid minute, you know that the girl was just goofing around and pretending not to understand the moves. She even laughed and slapped Minho's chest jokingly as if they were close friends. You couldn't see your boyfriend's reaction from where you stood, but what you witnessed was enough to dampen your mood.

You fake-coughed, causing Minho to finally notice you. His eyes lit up, and that was almost enough to rebrighten your mood. Almost, for you could still see the girl he was teaching earlier, with her eyebrows shot up like she was annoyed for the interference.

Minho jogged to where you stood and you gave him a quick peck on the lips. This took him by surprise--you weren't usually the type of person to show skinship when there are strangers around. This made Minho smile, though, thinking that you just missed him too much.

"Lunch break, everyone," Minho told the girls. He then took your hand and led you out of the room towards the staff's pantry.

When you got there, Minho excitedly opened the lunch you prepared, asking you about your day as he did so. You tried to act normal--afterall, you have no reason to be jealous, right? Plus, this is Minho you're talking about. You've known each other for years, he's not gonna dump you for an idol he just met.

Right?

"Baby?"

Your head shot up, realizing that Minho was talking to you. "Yeah?"

He chuckled. "What's wrong? Stunned by my visuals yet again?"

You rolled your eyes, used to his teasing antics. "Just tired, I guess. Eat your meal before it gets cold."

His gaze softened. He reached for your hand, squeezing it a bit. "I told you, you could take some rest during weekends. You don't have to force yourself to drive all the way here to bring me lunch. You took overtime last night, I'm sure you've been busy in the office."

You smiled at him, reaching out to squish his cheeks. "And I told you, bringing you lunch would never be tiring for me if it means that I could spend time with this lovely face."

Minho grinned. "I'm irresistible, I know."

You playfully pinched his cheek. "Just eat, you handsome creature."

You watch Minho as he ate, admiring how he looked food-deprived by the way he gobbled his meal. For the nth time in your long relationship, you wondered how you got so lucky to have someone like him. At the same time, you wondered how long you would be this lucky--wondered how long you would be able to watch him up close like this. You wondered: did you really deserve him? And what will happen if he realizes that, no, he doesn't want you after all?

"Uhh.. Min?"

"Ggnnmm?" he grumbled in a mouthful of food.

You stifled your laughter, finding the moment too cute to be destroyed by your depressing thoughts. "Have I ever told you that you look like a cat when you eat like that?"

°°°

It has been days since you visited Minho's studio. He was still teaching the girls you saw last weekend, due to the fact that "the choreo was too complicated" and a certain someone named Ahra was "finding certain parts difficult and needed to be trained personally by a professional choreographer." So of course, Minho can't say no. You visited once during the week, dropping off a change of clothes Minho forgot to bring, and you saw the girl again laughing and talking with Minho comfortably. Minho didn't seem annoyed. If anything, you felt like he was enjoying her company.

It was Friday when Minho came home and told you that he had to come with the girls to Gwangju where they would hold the music fest the following week.

"But why, though?" you asked Minho, genuinely confused. "You are a choreographer, not a manager."

"I know," Minho said. He looked tired, and part of you was feeling bad for questioning him like this. But you just can't help yourself--not after seeing that Ahra's body language towards your boyfriend. "But baby, their company pleaded for me to come with them to guide the group. They're rookies. They need as much help as they can."

A part of you understood. You wanted this relationship to be rational and matured. You promised to understand each other's line of work. So you just nodded, trying your best not to show your sadness... disappointment? Jealousy? All of the above?

°°°

Weekend came. You told Minho you were going to hangout with Momo for lunch. It was one reason, but the other main reason was that you didn't want to see Ahra flirting with your man right in front of you.

Momo chose a Japanese restaurant for your weekend hangout, saying she missed the dishes she had back home. Right after you've placed your order, your friend made a show of placing her elbows on the table with her chin on her fingers, looking straight into your eyes. "Now spill the tea."

You chuckled. "What?"

"While I know that you value our friendship more than most of everything else, I know that you won't ditch Minho for a simple lunch opportunity. Now spill."

"Uhh... maybe I'm making time with you because you're gonna be away for three days in Gwangju?"

"Oh, that music fest? I'm not coming with them though," she said, casually sipping water. "I have whipped my group into magnificent perfection, they don't need me to tag along. Plus, what would I do there? Chaperone their asses on the bus? Teach them the choreo while they're sightseeing? Please."

You sighed. Yeah, it doesn't make sense for an outsourced choreographer to tag along an idol group. They have their own trainors. And the trip was for three days to allow the idols some time for broadcasted sightseeing. They won't have time for heavy dance practices.

"But Minho is coming with the group assigned to him," you mentioned.

Momo almost choked on her mineral water. "What? Why? And why haven't I heard of this?"

Oh.

You shrugged. "Maybe my boyfriend is onto something--someone--else."

Momo's gaze softened. "Y/n..."

"I mean, the way that Ahra flirted with him? I wouldn't be surprised."

"C'mon y/nnie, do you really think Min would cheat on you? After, what, your five-year relationship?"

"When faced with a beautiful idol, why not?" Your eyes were starting to get watery. You weren't much of an emotional person, but right at that moment, you just wanted to bawl your eyes out. "I mean, Ahra is beautiful, right? You've seen her. Tall, flawless, gorgeous. And talented, too. I've searched about her group, and turns out she's the main vocal." You pointed at yourself. "And what do we have here?"

"YA! Don't you ever look down on yourself like that!" Momo said, slapping the table. "Have you forgotten that you're the main dancer of our dance group? That you were scouted by the leading agencies and you turned them all down? That if you decided not to focus on your academics, you would have been one of the leading dancers in the whole country? Y/N!"

"But--"

"I'M NOT YET DONE. And even without considering those, do you really think Minho is only looking at a person's outward appearance? Do you really think that, y/n?"

"No..." you whispered. "Momo, I understand now, please tone your voice down a little."

Momo discreetly looked around and noticed a few people staring. She sighed, composed herself, and spoke in a calmer voice, "Do you remember when Minho courted you? He was so shy, he can't even look you in the eyes without turning beet red. Literally the entire dance group had to help him express his feelings for you."

You smiled at the memory, remembering a slightly younger Minho flushing red while holding out a bunch of flowers.

"And even months prior to that. He was so dense, his hyungs in the group literally had to smack his head for him to realize that he likes you, even when the entire campus could already notice his heart-shaped eyes whenever he's with you." Momo sighed. "My point is, do you really think a guy like Minho could cheat on you?"

You reminisced about all those years you have been together. Minho is a sweet, understanding person. He sees beauty in everything around him. He sees beauty in you even when you yourself couldn't see it. He was there through the happy and ugly times, and he never once let go of your hand. He has been patient with you through everything. He is the best man you have ever met.

Momo sighed again for the umpteenth time that day. "The biggest flaw on him though is that he's way, waaaay too dense. Remember that one time before you got together, a girl was obviously making a move on him and he didn't even know until the girl walked out calling him a jerk."

You laughed at that. "He's flirty at times but he's too numb when he's on the receiving end."

The two of you laughed at that.

°°°

Later that day, Momo texted you. She checked in with the studio staff and apparently, Minho tagging along to the music fest was a special request by the higher ups of the girls' agencies, and it was a sort of rushed request. You thanked her for the information, mentally punching yourself for ever doubting Minho like that.

The following day was Minho's trip to Gwangju. You couldn't drive him to the station due to an urgent meeting, so you just gave him a hasty farewell kiss on the lips while he was preparing his breakfast. He just smiled up at you without saying a word. That small gesture made your heart clench, feeling guilty for doubting him and not spending time with him the day prior. You made a mental note to welcome him properly upon his return.

But for now, you have to survive those three incoming days alone in your apartment.

The whole day, you couldn't concentrate at work. You kept on worrying if Minho had arrived safely in his destination, if he had eaten enough, if he was warm and hydrated enough. When you asked him all these through text, he only replied with a short "don't worry too much 💝" You didn't know what to feel about it. He certainly felt that something was off, you thought. He was probably mad at me.

When you got home, a plastic of takeout on one hand and a heavy burden on your chest, you were prepared to be welcomed by the saddening darkness and silence of the night. But instead, what welcomed you was a candle-lit dining table filled with all your favorite food, complete with wine plus smooth music.

Minho stepped out from your shared room, a bouquet of roses in hand, smiling shyly while scratching his neck.

"This isn't really my thing..." he whispered.

Meanwhile you stood there, frozen in place, your jaw slack. "W-why... Min... but you're supposed to be...?"

Minho laughed. "I asked Felix to take my place. He gladly accepted." He walked closer to you, handing you the roses. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice if my one and only jealous baby has been acting weirdly?"

Your eyes widened. You dropped your gaze to the floor, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Minho stepped closer, caging you in a hug. "I'm the one who should be sorry for making you feel like that. I should never allow you to feel like you're lacking in any way. I should never give you a reason to doubt my love for you."

"But there was no reason. I was just reaching when I assumed you--"

"Sshh." Minho tightened the hug and kissed the top of your head. The two of you stayed like that for a while, swaying gently with the soft music.

"I love you, y/n. Longer than forever, I'm yours."

"I love you, too, Minho. I will love you longer than forever."

°°°

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wrienne · 3 years

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My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 10: His Ring

Namjoon and Seokjin’s eyes widened, though you got no reaction from Yoongi. He was like an ominous presence, sitting at an angle you could only watch him through your peripheral view as you stared down at your hands.

“How?” asked Namjoon. “And how do you know that?”

“Yes, isn’t amnesia both incurable and irreversible?” wondered Hoseok. "That's what the doctor told us."

“Starting with that...”

While explaining what you and Kim Sejin had spoken about that morning and the battle plan you had organized all day during school, all six of them were quiet. You finished with, “...I figured I could grab some of his clothes as well as hear your ideas about my plan.”

“It sounds like some kind of movie plot,” said Seokjin dubiously.

“Exactly what I told your manager,” you said and smiled half-heartedly. “But this is the only option we have. I, for one, refuse to let Jungkook lose all that he’s fought for. What all of you have fought for.”

“Even if it’s a slight chance, there’s still a possibility,” said Namjoon in agreement.

“What would you have us do, then?” asked Jimin.

“If you could write down a list, just as I have,” you said as you showed them your scribbles, “I’d have something more recent to go on from. I have never been very close to him, especially since his debut, so your input would help tremendously.”

“Why help him then?” Taehyung regarded you warily. His hard expression had gradually morphed into one of focus and attentiveness, but now you saw it teetering. Would he flare up again? “What do you have to gain?”

“Would you stop it?” Hoseok gave Taehyung a harsh glare, which made Namjoon and Seokjin look curiously at him. Hoseok pointed at Taehyung. “This one almost lost it downstairs, blaming Jungkook’s accident on (Y/N). Taehyung, you coming at her doesn’t exactly help the situation.”

“Hyung,” said Taehyung coolly. “Everyone with half a brain understands that she and Jungkook parted on unfriendly terms. Have you ever heard him curse like that - especially to a girl who is supposed to be a ‘family friend’? And he wouldn’t speak to anyone at all until Sejin-manager had taken us to the bar. She made him drink and run out on the street.”

“He’s halfway right,” said Seokjin as he scrutinized you. “I’ve never seen our Jungkook that mad.”

“Exactly,” said Taehyung triumphantly. “So you better tell us the truth: what do you have to gain from Jungkook?”

“Nothing,” you said earnestly, then fumbled as you tried to structure the rest of your reply. Technically, you had absolutely nothing to gain from Jeon Jungkook’s potential recovery and reascent to the music industry’s top. Meanwhile, it would take you more than three months of hard work and utter, genuine dedication to even have a shot at getting him to Japan. It could all just prove to be a waste of time. Minutes, hours, days, weeks better spent on you and yourself. Not to mention, that bastard had been unfaithful to you for who knows how long, in addition to having treated you sometimes like air, sometimes like dirt and sometimes like you were his worst enemy in the world.

But still. Still. You couldn’t abandon Jeon Jungkook in his time of need.

“It doesn’t make sense,” said Taehyung and crossed his arms over his chest. “Jungkook told me you disliked each other, and that you couldn’t stand him. So why?”

“I just…”

You grasped after the right words. Your mind was muddled, however, so you had no choice but to simply follow the second voice-in-command: your heart.

“If you were me,” you began carefully, “would you have allowed the son of your parents’ best friend to forget his childhood dream? I’ve known Jungkook all of my life - we’ve grown up together, spent every holiday with one another and celebrated everything from birth, life and death side by side. He was horrible most of the time, I’ll say that, but he was there for me when others weren’t. You might believe my family fortunes and good name generated friends wherever I went, but no. It didn’t. I’ve been on my own pretty much all my life.”

You hadn’t meant for the conversation to suddenly turn so personal, but there you sat, pouring your heart out to six strangers. Perhaps that’s what made therapy so popular. People listening to other people’s problems.

You took a deep breath. “When my grandparents died, Jungkook was the first one to each of their funerals. When I was about ten or so and fell down a cliff during a hike with our parents and broke my collarbone, Jungkook was the one who found me and dragged me back to camp. He practically saved my life. Now, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t have been able to look myself in the mirror if I just left him the way he is now, especially when I have a chance to help.”

No matter his betrayal.

“I have no clue what Jungkook told you about me, but I would never premeditate hurting or upsetting or exploiting him in any way.” You cleared your throat, grimacing as your windpipe had tightened with every word you said. “Now yesterday was the first time I saw you guys on stage. And though I possess no particular experience in show business or even an ounce of musical talent, I saw--no, felt that he belonged up there. Still - and I haven't told you all - would you have left him if you were me? Abandoned him for old grudges?”

You hadn’t noticed how hard you were clutching your hands together. Not until you felt the odd, ticklish sensation signifying a lack of blood and circulation did you realize that your knuckles and fingers had whitened. You loosened up and caught Taehyung’s eyes.

“No,” he said, immediately casting down his focus. “I guess not.”

“What we spoke of is private,” you said quietly, feeling your chest constrict in pain at the memory. “It is something I can never disclose. But the conversation wasn’t of a threatening or hostile nature, and if I knew he would run out drunkenly on a street because of my decision, I would have never made it. I would never, ever wish Jungkook harmed.”

No one spoke. Taehyung didn’t raise his gaze.

You sniffled. Hoseok quickly came back from the hallway with some tissues and handed you them. You wiped your eyes and were relieved to find the tissue only slightly damp. You weren’t bawling, at least, though the mere presence of tears made you frown - you didn’t exactly have something to cry for. You weren’t somber or filled with grief at the memory of your grandparents' funerals. However, you were extremely tired and weary after last night’s escapade to the hospital. And your conversation with your parents hadn’t exactly done much to brighten up your mood.

You almost chuckled. You were used to calling Jungkook stupid, but who was the bigger fool, really?

Considering how the next three months would progress, it was ironic, it truly was.

“What should we do?” asked Hoseok finally, breaking the silence.

“Let’s split up into groups,” said Namjoon after said someone’s stomach grumbled. “Jin-hyung and I will get to cooking since it’s our turn anyway. The rest of you can start with a list each.”

“What are we even supposed to write?” Jimin scratched the back of his head.

“It might be a bit personal,” you told him, “but it probably has to be in order for it to be memorable. Just write down anything you might have done with Jungkook that you feel affected your relationship in any major way.”

“Write down anything that you imagine Jungkook might have remembered up until the accident,” added Namjoon and slowly stood. “Like the time we went bungee jumping or traveled to Northern Europe.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you said.

“And you’re going to do what with this information?” wondered Seokjin, standing also. “Isn’t it better if we just meet up with him and tell him all of this? Try to remind him while face-to-face?”

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t say he’s scared of you. But he doesn’t trust anyone and might straight-up refuse to listen to any of you. And even if some of you manage to convince him to hear you out, what if it turns out he doesn’t remember? That might make you frustrated at him or just left feeling needlessly hurt. Furthermore, I don’t want to stress him out any more than he already is. Imagine, it must be like waking up from a five or so year long dreamless sleep for him and suddenly he’s overwhelmed with the eager input from six or so people telling him he knows them the way he did.”

“Okay,” said Jimin with a nod. “Who has some pen and paper?”

“I do,” said Hoseok, then disappeared into one of the rooms. He came out with a notebook and tore out a page for everyone except you, Seokjin and Namjoon, then returned with an equal number of pens.

Namjoon and Seokjin headed into the kitchen while Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok eventually started discussing what would count as a “memorable memory”. Yoongi quietly pondered his sheet of paper, his dark gaze fixed upon the clean slate while he tapped his pen against the table surface.

He briefly found your eyes but said nothing.

Swallowing hard, you carefully unzipped your jacket and hung it over your chair as well as placed your duffel bag underneath your chair. Feeling uncomfortable just sitting there, you rose while putting up your hair with a hair tie and poked your head into the kitchen.

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

Seokjin was instructing Namjoon when he stopped and looked at you over the latter’s shoulder. “No, we’ll be alright. You can just sit with the others.”

You wouldn’t have minded just sitting and watching them if not for Yoongi’s watchful eyes. But since you couldn’t exactly say that, you smiled sheepishly. “I’m sort of not used being around so many guys.”

“No male cousins or siblings?”

“None.” Your smile fell a bit. “It’s a small family.”

“How long are you staying?” asked Namjoon. He had begun washing vegetables in the sink.

“Oh, not very long,” you said quickly. “I wouldn’t want to intrude for any longer than dinner. And I told Jungkook I’d be back at six.”

Seokjin and Namjoon looked at each other hesitantly. The latter shrugged, and Seokjin found your gaze again.

“Would you mind setting the table, then?” he asked.

About half an hour later, all seven of you were busy eating homemade tteokbokki and bought gimbap. They asked you about you and Jungkook, how long you had known each other, what school you went to, and so on. The lists had been compiled into one master list, courtesy of Namjoon, who had wanted to organize all of their ideas into relevant categories, like years, members and places. You hadn’t even been aware of how hungry you had been until then and ate quicker than everyone else. Or well, almost.

“It’s almost six o’clock,” said Min Yoongi as he stood. “Come, (Y/N). Someone’s got to show her to Jungkook’s things and Namjoon is still eating,” he explained at everyone’s confused frown.

“Oh, I had almost forgotten.”

You rose and began carrying your dishes to the kitchen when Jimin stopped you. “Let it be,” he said. “I’ll take care of it. You better get back to Jungkook.”

“Thank you,” you said, then looked at everyone seated at the table. For once, Taehyung didn’t look at you with poorly disguised fury. “Thank you for the food, and for your help. I really appreciate it, and I know Jungkook would as well.”

“We’ll finish the last of the master list meanwhile,” said Hoseok as you bent to pick up your duffel bag. “Try to steal some of Namjoon’s stuff. He has way too many clothes that fall underneath the ‘hobo’ category.”

“It’s ‘boho’ I tell you,” mumbled Namjoon as he covered his mouth with his hand. “It’s a popular fashion style overseas.”

“That might be, but you make it ‘hobo’.”

Namjoon sighed as the others laughed.

You smiled at Hoseok, who returned the gesture, then turned anxiously toward Yoongi. He gestured for you to come and you followed him into the same room Namjoon and Seokjin had exited from. The bedroom was small, with only barely enough space for two single beds, a wardrobe, a tall mirror and a desk with a lamp, but surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the apartment.

Yoongi closed the door shut after you, then led you to the swelling wardrobe, which almost reached from the floor to the ceiling. He opened the wardrobe doors and pointed in a general area of blacks, jeans and whites. There was a surplus of beanies, mouth masks and brand underwear as well.

“That half is Jungkook’s,” said Yoongi as he opened the wardrobe doors and pointed in a general area. “Though some of his clothes might be in the washing machine or drying.”

“I think he can manage with this,” you said as you began placing one item after another into your duffel bag.

You didn’t know exactly how much you needed to grab, but when you considered the bleak possibility that Jungkook might not ever return to the apartment again, you decided to take everything of his at least in the wardrobe. While initially conscientious - you knew how prim Jungkook could be with his things - you took it slow, placing clothes like Tetris. Then, realizing it would take hours, you just shoveled as much as you could into the bag.

You tried to ignore the pair of slim dark eyes silently watching your every move.

“Is there anything else of his in here?” you asked Yoongi when you were finished. The duffel bag actually looked like a body bag now, but would still have some room left over for a phone charger or a headset or so.

“He has a laptop and some gadgets he carries in a small bag.”

It didn’t take you long to find the computer and you carefully placed it inside a computer bag marked “JK”. You found chargers, a mouse and a headset inside the bag first, though, which you poured into the duffel bag instead. When you were finished, however, and started toward the door, Yoongi stopped you.

You frowned and tried not to sound frightened, but felt your heartbeats surge into a gallop. “Hey, what--”

And you stopped so abruptly you almost choked on your words. You had wondered where Jungkook’s engagement band was, ever since you saw its obviously vacant place on his finger the evening before. But now you knew.

Held between his index finger and thumb, Min Yoongi raised the promise ring your parents had given Jungkook, its circular, golden shape familiar to you. His expression didn't change, nor did his voice.

“At which point of the dinner were you going to tell us about your and Jungkook’s engagement?”

#MCAF #wrienne #ao3 #bts fanfiction #bts x reader

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hiddlestonsbabygirl · 4 years

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Care For Me (Steve Rogers au) SugarDaddy!Steve

•prologue•

An alternative universe where Steve isn’t an Avenger, but rather a CEO of one of the biggest companies in the US. His best friend and business partner Bucky secretly made him an account in an online dating site for sugar daddies and sugar babies, setting Steve up on a date with the only suitable sugar baby he thought was best for his best friend among the million others in his inbox.

It’s you. You’re the sugar baby.

Or,

Where reader is a med student who is badly in need of financial support and resorted to desperate measures by signing up to an online dating site with a little help from reader’s best friend, Nat.

•••

You ran up the staircase, not bothering to apologize as you bumped into strangers along the way. Your heart hammered against your chest as sweat outlined your forehead, thoughts running through your mind as you wondered what could have happened to your apartment. You just got a call from your good neighbor Mrs. Sally that the landlord stormed into your hallway followed by two men in white muttering angry words as he unlocked your door with his duplicate key. You knew instantly why he was there. You were getting kicked out of your own apartment since you weren’t able to pay for your rent in six months. The landlord had warned you beforehand to pay sooner, but it was getting harder and harder each day. You were already broke, all your savings spent on your medical school. You didn’t want to stop your studies—you were already on your third year and ever since you graduated college your goal was straight; finish med school, pass the licensure exams and become a doctor. You couldn’t even last a week on your countless part-time jobs because of your coming in late due to knee-deep work you have to face every single day in school.

Your financial status was making it hard for you to finish your goal. Very hard.

You reached your floor, and, as expected, all your things were outside your door in boxes. Your heart sank as you stared at the mess, your clothes and books thrown aggressively into the containers as if they meant nothing but pieces of trash.

You rushed inside and your landlord was standing by your small kitchen, barking orders at his two men, without even noticing that you entered.

“Please, sir,” you cried as you neared him. “Please give me one more chance. I’ll pay by the end of the month, I promise!”

He scowled at you. “I’ve given you too many chances, (Y/N). You’re too much.”

He turned his back at you and proceeded to march into your bedroom, calling out one of his men to follow him inside.

“No!” You yelled angrily this time. You couldn’t believe him. You may haven’t paid your debt owed to this man but that didn’t give him the right to intrude into your privacy.

You ran past them and stood in front of them before they could get any closer to the door, your cheeks flushed and eyes filled with angry tears.

“You can’t just walk into someone’s bedroom and take everything away!” You cried. “I can pack up myself! I don’t need your filthy hands on my belongings!”

Your landlord looked furious. “Then throw your damn things out of my apartment in the next hour or I’ll fucking rip this room apart by myself!”

You flinched at the loudness and anger of his voice before he turned around and left without another word, his men following close behind. Once you heard the main door slam shut you bawled your eyes out, sinking to the floor as you struggled to think of places where you could find refuge without having to pay. All you had in your wallet was a 20-dollar bill, and you didn’t have any extra cash in your bank account. You considered searching for very cheap rooms in the vicinity without having to ride because riding meant paying. But you couldn’t walk on the streets while struggling to hold boxes of your things. They were even too many for only two small hands.

You sobbed. At this point you felt so hopeless already. You almost convinced yourself that you were going to throw your unnecessary things away and sleep on the streets, while asking for spare change. You’d have to give up your med school since you couldn’t shoulder all the expenses anymore and just look for a job where it pays just enough for food and shelter. You didn’t have a family anymore to back you up. Your addictive mother left you for a stranger, and your father’s been gone even before you were born. You didn’t have any siblings, nor uncles or aunts or extended family members where you could go to for help. You had no one. It was only you.

You wiped away your tears, swallowing your pride as you took out your old, worn-out phone from your pocket and dialed your best friend’s number.

Natasha.

She’s been your best friend since high school, and you both shared the same passion in life. You both wanted to become a doctor. You both have so much in common, and you both agree to almost everything. You’ve been there for each other through the ups and downs, and Natasha has helped you through your own struggles financially. But asking for this big favor from her was just too much for you. You didn’t want to add a burden to your best friend—med school is already hard enough as it is.

But you were already desperate. You didn’t have any more options. This was the only one.

“Hello?”

You felt a sudden wave of relief hearing a voice so soothing in the midst of the chaos. “Nat, hi.”

“(Y/N), have you been crying? What happened??”

You hiccuped. “I-I’m fine, Nat. C-Could you come over? I k-kind of need your help.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

As promised, a knock came from your door and you stood up to open it, revealing a worried Natasha standing over your disarrayed valuables.

You couldn’t help yourself. Fresh tears welled up in your eyes as she pulled you in for a tight hug and you sobbed into her shoulder.

“We’ll pack up your things and go to my house. You’re staying there for as long as you like. My home is always open for you, (Y/N). And you know that.”

...

“So? How did it go with Katherine?” Bucky spoke up as he stabbed his medium-rare meat with his fork, clearly playing with his food rather than eating it. It was lunch break and Bucky and Steve were in their usual go-to for lunch, Redbird.

“Despite the fact that we called it a night early? It was okay.” Steve replied with a scoff, bringing a spoonful of rice to his mouth and watched as Bucky gave his best friend a deadpanned look.

“And you were the one who ended things early, not her, right?”

Steve nodded. He was slowly getting tired of Bucky setting him up with several women, whom he doesn’t even take interest in. He always has the need to pair Steve with someone because “you always look so bleak and somber,” as Bucky would put it.

“Buck, I really appreciate you doing these stuff for me, being my wingman and all, but I really don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” He retorted. “Then why do you always look so depressed? You can’t fucking tell me your wealth and fame is making you distressed. That’s some absurd bullshit right there.”

“Language.” Steve glared at him. He always hated when people cussed. For him it was indecent and dirty.

Except, of course, cussing in bed. He can only tolerate profanity under the sheets. But not often, though. That would be too much to listen to.

“Seriously??”

“And yes, James. Wealth and fame does not automatically make you happy and unproblematic. Do you know how many rich and famous people died because they took their own life? Because they hide their problems. The only image the public sees is the happy and successful façade they show.”

Silence. Steve was almost convinced he had won over their little argument.

“That shit deep, man.” Bucky only chuckled to which his best friend exhaled an exasperated sigh. Steve couldn’t even bother to point out that Bucky said a bad language word again.

“But you’ve got friends. Your family loves and supports you, you make time for sports and leisure...what could possibly make you so sad??”

Steve breathed out. “I told you, I’m not depressed, I’m not sad. I just don’t feel like dating as of the moment.”

“Will you feel like dating again tomorrow?”

“Haha, very funny.”

Bucky only stared at his best friend as he took a sip of his drink, studying him with confusion and amusement. Very formal man, always has a steely look on his face, very dominant demeanor, couldn’t even stand hearing curse words! What could his best friend possibly like in a woman?? Were his calculations wrong? Did he expect differently? Was he looking at it in a wrong angle?

Is Steve gay??

“Barnes, quit staring at me like that. You’re making me uncomfortable.” Steve brought him back to his senses.

And then it hit him.

“Hey, Steve, I think I need to go.” Bucky announced as he stood up and gathered his phone and wallet lying around on the table.

“Oh? Why the sudden hurry?” The blond-haired man asked as his eyes watched his best friend suddenly look distracted.

“It’s nothing. I just forgot to feed my pet dragon.” He then proceeded to pace towards the exit, leaving Steve confused and asked himself how he was acquainted with a weird and funny man like James Buchanan Barnes.

Little did Steve know that his best friend was up to a very stupid but brilliant idea. He knew he was going to get in trouble if Steve found out about it, but it was worth a shot. And his plan involved an online dating site and younger girls.

........................... ........................... ...........................

A/N: New series! Yay!!! Tags are also open, just hit me up! Next part coming soon ❤️

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Note

I’ve been sitting here for an hour bawling my eyes out reading ur fics. They’re just that goooddd. Can u write something about Sirius? The potters are alive and Sirius “babysits” 2-3 yr old Harry just to pickup some girl he has a crush on or something? I would lovvveee thattt

well, as a basis for writing this I used my niece, who is 3 years old and has been used by me, to try to get the attention of a boy I like... Poor girl unfortunately, I was not as lucky as Sirius

I hope you like it, and thank you anon <3

----

‘’Padfoot if my son comes back with a scratch…’’

‘’.. Prongs, do you think I’m taking your son to the lions ’den? Please. I am a responsible godfather.’’

That's what he said.

He had, in fact, assured this to a James who was a little too nervous about letting Sirius take care of little Harry and taking him out of the house for a fun outing.

He pushed Harry's cart into Diagon Alley, talking to the talking boy, who told and recounted the last time Remus came over and gave him a teddy bear, and about when James turned into Deer and took him to stroll through the forest at the end of the street.

Of course, his dialect was very difficult to follow, but he was getting better at understanding his words.

‘’Well, Harry, let’s hope she’s there.’’ He said, trying not to look too anxious when he heard the childish laughter and adult voices around him. ''I met her at the Ministry… can you believe she fought a wizard almost twice her size, because he said one of the kids around was ugly?'' Harry was looking at him curiously, big green eyes blinking towards him. ‘’At least we don’t have that concern for you boy, you’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. You are a magnet for beautiful girls.’’

‘‘I’m not a boy, I’m Harry.’’ His godson countered, looking indignant at that nickname.

‘’Yes, you are Harry.’‘ Sirius chuckled. ‘’Now, I need you to behave, we don’t want to make a bad impression, right?’’ Harry denied. ‘’And I think that goes for both of us.’’

''Pad…'' And then, he spoke again and again, talking about the book Lily had read to him, mixing with the subject of the Muggle film that Sirius had taken him to watch (almost two months ago! Child memory never seemed to fail) and ending by talking about what he wanted to get for Christmas.

When they arrived at the specific store, Sirius thought about turning around and pretending never to have been there, not just because it was packed with people, but because the woman he had spoken to last week at the Ministry, helping her to get to the right floor, was kissing with another man, in a corner of the store. Nothing too vulgar or anything, but still, a kiss.

Great, all that, for absolutely nothing!

"Pad, will you buy that one for me?" Harry pointed to the dinosaur stacked on one of the shelves, and if it were any other day, he would come in and buy it, but now, stuck on the floor, looking at that scene a little paralyzed, he just muttered a yes, not knowing what to do.

But also, what did he think doing that? That idea would never work.

And it wasn't even Harry's fault, he really was the most beautiful boy Sirius had ever seen, and even looking at the kids running around the store, Harry was the most beautiful, but he couldn't do all the work, and Sirius knew that women should have very high standards.

She wasn't afraid of a guy who - possibly - he would be a little afraid of.

Sighing, he finally moved, taking Harry out of that children's paradise, promising to buy what he wanted later, heading for the Leaky Cauldron without much willpower, blaming himself for having promised two stupid hours for Lily and James to be free of the son.

He should have said they had half an hour, and that was it. Sirius slept in the same room as James for 7 years, and they lived together for 1 ½ years, he knew that his friend could be quick when he wanted to, and Lily never came in a bad mood. Besides, it had been a long time since he heard that Harry had been away from them for more than ten minutes, the boy had been having trouble sleeping alone, so even at night, he was there.

‘‘It’s you and me, mate.’’ Sirius toasted his glass of pumpkin juice (he was a responsible godfather, after all) with what Harry had in his hands, sitting in the child seat next to him.

‘’Will you accept one more person?’’ The female voice sounded behind him, startling him at first, but as soon as he saw who it was, Sirius laughed nasally and rolled his eyes.

‘’Learning to be polite, Jones.’’ Hestia smiled, winking at Harry before looking serious and looking towards Sirius.

‘’You arouse my worst side.. So .. shouldn’t Harry be in a childish place?’’

''And what's the problem here?'' Sirius watched her, curly hair in a high tail, some curls falling under her shoulders (which Harry seemed to love, since he took one without blinking), his brown eyes looking even more dark in the yellowish light, and the cheeks in a pink tone that looked very beautiful on her. Hestia was very beautiful, even though she was sometimes too smart even for her own good. It was what Lily always said.

‘’It’s a little hostile. Does James know that his precious boy is here?’’ She said, lightly squeezing the tip of Harry’s nose and making him laugh, making faces at him.

‘’No, but he must be busy with Lily.’’

‘’Oh, are you doing a good deed then? Ready to be a godfather a second time?’’ Hestia laughed, finally looking at him, not looking as threatening as she did when Sirius liked her in the third year. But in his defense, in the third year, almost all the girls looked threatening.

‘‘I don’t think they want that yet, little Prongs has been a lot of work.’’ The two looked at Harry, who was enjoying some toys that Hestia had conjured up, talking to them and looking absorbed in everything around him. He would be like that for at least ten minutes, but it seemed enough, they could still go for a walk in the park and maybe Sirius would transform and take his godson for a walk...

‘’Huh… so.. Are you going to do anything with the mini Potter?’’

He shrugged, drinking the juice and sighing, still a little shaken by the previous events.

''Walk. Maybe we'll go to the park.’’ Hestia nodded, looking around and shaking hands nervously, the way she did whenever she was thinking too much.

''Wanna go out? Today? Harry can come along’’

‘’Asking me out, Jones?’’ Sirius's eyes widened, a little surprised. ''You’re sick?''

‘‘Don’t be stupid, I just saw you with Harry and thought it would be cool, but if you don’t want to..’’ Before she could get up completely, Sirius squeezed her hand, holding her in place.

‘’Be less dramatic, Jones.’’ He looked at her, suddenly feeling a little stupid, like in his third year, when he started seeing girls. Hestia, in particular. ‘’Sit down, and drink with us. We can leave after that.’’

Yeah, maybe Harry really was a magnet for beautiful women, he thought, already forgetting the Ministry stranger.

#jily lives #Sirius Black #hestia jones #Harry Potter #James Potter #Lily Evans #sirius x hestia #sirius!godfather

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

Welcome Home - Part Four

todoroki shouto x mom!reader

warnings: vomit tw, fluff

word count: 3,062

a/n: so we back and better than evah with domestics for shouto and kaito!!!!! got some requests to do this, and finally after having this done since like august. its finally posted!!!!!! enjoy anons!!!! also can totally be read as a stand alone, but ill link the other parts too.

Part One Part Two Part Three

It was safe to say you were in pain.

It was currently week twenty of your second pregnancy. To say the least you are always exhausted, in pain, hormonal, sad, angry, elated, and swollen. Even at week twenty, you were not at all showing. It had helped you continue to be an active Pro-Hero until week fifteen. It was now nearing the holidays. Statistic speaking most villain activity spiked around that time. So when you almost fainted on the job, Shouto forced you into maternity leave.

With Kaito still being four and requiring you to be around, you couldn’t go back and teach at U.A.! So you were able to stay at home restless, unattended to, and alone.

You were now in your second trimester of pregnancy and you still had yet to tell Kaito. Hell! You still hadn’t seen the doctor outside of the pregnancy confirmation! As of lately, the paparazzi were interfering with your personal lives. You weren’t public with this pregnancy secret yet.

To be rather honest, it scared you to tell Kaito. The absolute thought of telling your sweet baby boy made you too nervous. It was to the point you were shivering and sweating thinking about it. You weren’t sure how he was going to react to this news. He would be turning five in a few weeks too. The night you had told Shouto you are pregnant again you promised something. You promised Shouto that the two of you would break the news before his birthday. But your fears were getting to you.

The last thing you wanted was for Kaito to feel that you were going to abandon him! He had bawled so much on the first day of preschool because he thought you and Shouto were leaving him! Yes, he is older than that first day of school, but he was still a mama’s boy! Even at five, Kaito demanded and loved the attention he got from the both of you! Babies were time and energy-consuming. Kaito already had less time with both of you working. Even with the above-average energy and stamina you and Shouto had, you were sure tire every day.

So there you sat at home. You were crying as you thought about your redheaded baby as you tried cleaning. The other sound besides your sobs was the TV. You were currently watching a LIVE interview with Pro-Hero Shouto.

Shouto was out on another island of Japan right now. He was finishing a national tour that his PR team made him go on. Given that your pregnancy was still unknown he agreed, as you two said no one could know until Kaito knew. But as you scrubbed the living room table, you wailed looking at Shouto. Your husband was looking way too attractive with his newest hero costume. On top of everything, this pregnancy was making you horny. And you couldn’t even do anything about it without Shouto there! Well, you could, but you ached so much! Most nights you almost always fell asleep the moment when your head hit the pillows. At least when Shouto wasn’t home that's what happened. Stupid baby hormones.

You turned your attention back to the TV screen. The interview so far had been about a recent villain attack Shouto had put down in world-record speeds. Shouto had captured twenty villains in two seconds because they froze when they saw him. None of which having an effective quirk to counter the ice trapping their bodies. After a commercial break, and a promise of learning more about the personal life of Shouto, they were back! You were curious about what was going to happen. Shouto, after all, was still missing a few situational cues even at the age of twenty-eight.

“So, Shouto!” The TV hostess chirped, pushing the wisps of her hair that fell out of her bun out of her face. “You and another amazing Pro-Hero: Y/h/n make a fantastic duo out there fighting villains! You two have amazing chemistry out on the field.”

You couldn’t help the laughs that escape your lips at that statement. Oh, if only Pro-Hero Shouto was the same as Provisional Licensed Shouto in dealing with the media. He would have been so confused with that statement. You watched Shouto’s composed face melt from his media face into one you recognize as one he uses when you talk to him. “Yes, Y/h/n is, in fact, a wonderful hero, and she is amazing to work with no matter the task.”

“I bet it helps she’s your wife, too, huh?” The hostess blushes as she giggles and shouts of approval and joy echo with the live audience.

Shouto chuckles as he nods his head, “It does help, yes.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. You and Shouto were one of the first top-ranked Pro-Heroes to get married. The both of you had been the Number One Hero at some point within your so far ten-year career. It also seemed that no matter how many years of marriage went by. Or how many times the media mentioned it, everyone still giggled about your romance. As if you both were in denial.

“And of course, your beautiful baby, Kaito-kun!”

The screen behind them presents the single photo you and Shouto had shared of Kaito. It was the first day of school for him. Kaito was wearing the navy blue uniform of the school. The shorts ironed, crisped, and clean. The white-collar of his shirt peaked out over the blue blazer of his school. The crest printed over the right pocket. Kaito’s blazing red hair had a styled back into a 'comb-over'. It was fancy for school! But Kaito had insisted he wanted it stylized “like papa” as it was Shouto’s go-to for any fancy event.

Kaito's smile was large and wide. His eyes squinted because of the large grin. Despite the amount of excitement and enthusiasm in the picture, he clutched onto your leg. You remembered the tight grip he had on you. Because while he loved taking pictures, he was nervous about starting pre-school. You had been wearing a nice, modest outfit of yours in celebration of his new year. Stylized and with makeup on. You had a hand on Kaito, while the other held onto Shouto. A smile on your face.

Shouto was also dressed up in a navy blue suit. Kaito begged him to wear it in case he was the only one in a navy blue uniform.

Kaito didn’t quite understand that everyone was going to be wearing the same uniform. Still, Shouto had dressed up the way Kaito demanded to ease his anxiety. Kaito believed no one could make fun of him if the Pro-Hero Shouto–his papa–dressed up that way! Shouto’s hair styled exactly like Kaito, and a gentle smile on his face. His arm wrapped around you as well. His other hand resting on top of your hand resting on top of Kaito’s shoulder.

Of course, after the photo was taken, you and Shouto walked Kaito to the classroom. Kaito bawled for quite a long time, and you cried with him too. Shouto had to hug you that entire morning because you had been so sad. When you and Shouto went to pick him up later that day Kaito was ecstatic to tell you about his day. Many of his classmates were in awe over who his parents were and so it helped him to create friends.

“What a beautiful family, I'm serious. I’m jealous!” The hostess sighed as there was another round of vocal agreement from the crowd.

“Yeah, Kaito and Y/n make me happier,” Shouto says softly as he continues looking at the photo of the three of you. “They are my world.”

The audience and you make an awing noise, but your tears crack your voice.

“Speaking of family,” The hostess slyly states, a cunning twinkle in her eye. “Can you give us any insight on why Y/h/n retired from the scene for a while? Don’t think we haven’t noticed her not appearing with you for the past few weeks!”

Shouto chuckles as he shifts in his seat, “Is she pregnant again?” The hostess questions, and your heart rate increases, and as Shouto’s mouth opens to lie, your alarm goes off. Cursing under your breath, you run to your phone, it was time to pick up Kaito from school.

“Mama! GueSS WHAT!” Kaito shrieked as he threw himself into your arms, and you groaned as his knee hit up against your sore stomach.

“Let me see, did your best friend finally get his quirk?”

“Well, he did it’s super cool, he can make food appear whenever he wants! I had so many chicken nuggets!” Kaito exclaims as you press a kiss to his temple, his once styled hair resembled close to a rats nest on his head. Oh, those Todoroki men just could never keep their hair tidy. “But that’s not it, silly mama!”

You hummed in thought. Kaito's waiting for your response as he waves goodbye to his fellow friends and strangers. “Did you find your missing sock? The one you weren’t wearing when I came to pick you up yesterday?” You asked tickling Kaito’s stomach.

“Well… I lied, I well... I accidentally burned it when I was showing off my quirk to my friend.” Kaito meekly stated and you laughed, he had already told you that yesterday. It seemed that he had already forgotten.

“Okay, well your mama is out of guesses, what happened today?” You asked as Kaito placed his head on your shoulder, his fingers playing with your hair.

“Midoriya-chan had a baby brother.” Kaito sighed as he placed your hair against his face, and you looked down at Kaito who stared back at yours. His y/e/c piercing through you, but he had no idea that he was. “Which means that Midoriya-ojii-san can’t come to babysit me anymore!”

You nod your head as you sighed. Typical Kaito forgetting that he had found that out a few weeks ago! You and Shouto had taken Kaito to the hospital to meet Midoriya's new baby too. You and all your female friends had by coincidence gotten pregnant around the same time. It seemed that it was still happening even now.

“We met baby Midoriya last week, remember?” You prod softly as you let Kaito down as he bounded up the door, “Didn’t you say you wanted to be a big brother to him?”

“I want to be a big brother!” Kaito agreed, his head nodding as you unlocked the door, “But only so that the baby can eat my asparagus!”

Laughter overtakes you, and quickly you began to cry as you locked the door behind you. After settling down you instruct Kaito to finish his homework as he was ready to do anything but that.

Later that night, you and Kaito sat at the table eating dinner while singing along to the songs on the radio. Kaito sighed rubbing his face, “Mama, when’s papa coming back? He’s been gone for so long! I miss him...”

Your face fell in the overwhelming love you had for your child and his love for his father. “I miss your papa, too. He’s supposed to be back tomorrow, baby. Remember he called us last night and told you?”

“Yeah, but he could’ve been lying! Like when he tells you he’s doing nothing when me and him get cookies! Okay, but don’t tell him I miss him!” Kaito grinned as he shoved white rice into his mouth.

“Why wouldn’t I tell your papa that?!” You gasp looking at Kaito with squinted eyes, he was such a brat sometimes.

“Easy! I wouldn’t want papa to be sad, and then make you mad because papa loves me more than he loves you!”

You roll your eyes at your red-headed child and sighed. “I can do that, as long as you promise not to tell your papa that he’s no longer my favorite!”

“HAHAHA PAPA ISN’T YOUR FAVORITE—hey, wait, maMA!!”

The sounds of Kaito and you shouting and laughing audible from down the street. The night seems to only begin as you and your son play fought around the dining room.

But it came to a quick end when you had to stop Kaito who was trying to climb up your leg. Your body felt completely nauseous, and the gag in your throat told you that you were about to throw up. So you ran to the bathroom, Kaito’s worried screams following after you.

Bile and vomit rose up your throat as your retched into the toilet. The bitter acid burning your mouth as you threw up for a solid minute. You felt like your body was on fire as you sank to the floor unable to stop your sobs.

“Are you okay, mama?! Please tell me you're okay, mama!” Kaito shook your shoulder, and you could hear the tears in his voice as you rose back up to throw up again.

“Kaito-chan, move please.” The smooth voice of your husband calls and you look up to see Shouto in the doorway, still donning his costume.

“Papa, mama is th-throwing up!” Kaito sobbed as Shouto stepped over to you. Placing his left hand on your back, and his right hand on your neck, your body felt better as soon as his quirk activates.

Your sobs slowly stopped. You felt your sickness ease while Shouto is careful while massaging your body. Kaito is now plugged by your side, his cheeks wet with tears, and you rub your fingers into his scalp. Your free hand moves to touch your beginning to swell belly as you looked up at Shouto. Your head nodding, and a nonverbal agreement came between the two of you. You were sure you had vomit in the corner of your mouth, but Shouto leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. It's an encouraging kiss, and you feel at ease. After flushing the toilet for you, Shouto sat down on the bathroom floor, handing you a cup of water that you swallow down in thanks.

The entire Todoroki family finally accounted for.

“I’m okay, baby,” You whisper, continuing to stroke Kaito's head, “I’m okay.”

“What’s wrong with you, mama?” Kaito asks, his eyes red and puffy as he stared into your face. His tiny hands coming to press themselves up against your cheeks. “You’re not dying, are you!?”

You watch as Shouto comes and places a hand on Kaito’s head, ruffling his hair softly. “We actually have a secret we need to tell you,” Shouto says as Kaito whips his head to stare at his father. “You have to promise to keep our little secret though.”

Kaito blinks a few times. He is unsure of what this secret could be, but he nods his head as he squirms in your arms until he’s sitting in your lap. “I can... I can do that.”

“You know how I asked you if you wanted to be a big brother earlier?” You say nuzzling Kaito’s soft hair with your nose. You feel Kaito’s head nod, he was still oblivious to what's coming.

“Your mama is pregnant, Kaito.” Shouto continues as the two of you study Kaito, who turns his attention towards you. His confusion on the word pregnant swimming in his eyes.

“You’re going to be a big brother, Kaito-chan.” You whisper, tears forming in your eyes.

Kaito stands up from your lap and sits on his knees, staring at your belly. You watch as your breath hitches as he gets rather close to your belly, and places his small hand on you. “Hi, little brother, or little sister, my name is Todoroki Kaito! I’m your big brother! I don’t really know what you do? Did my mama eat you? If so, I will tell her to poop you out because that’s mean of her! I’m mama AND papa’s favorite though, so don’t be jealous when you find out they love me more! Oh! Also! I have a lot of toys you can play with!”

You stared up at Shouto with tears flowing down your face. Your facial expressions changing from glee to utmost sadness. But your eyes gaze lovingly at your husband who also wipes a tear away as your son talks to your belly. You grabbed Shouto’s hands bringing him closer to you.

You kissed him gently, over and over.

“Welcome home, Shoucchan.” You sniffle as he continued pressing small pecks to your mouth.

“Papa is kissing mama, it’s pretty gross!! Papa takes all the kisses away from mama, and all the leftovers are for me, so don’t be sad if you don’t get any! We’ll just have to kick papa out of mama's kiss list!”

A snort escapes Shouto’s as he leans back rolling his eyes, “Damn kid,” He whispers and you laugh full of mirth.

“You know what, Kaito-chan?” You say as your son tears his one-sided conversation from your belly.

“What, mama?”

“Your papa does lie a lot, look he’s back today!”

there’s going to be one more part for this little unintentional series, but i think after that it may be time to retire kaito and co. only because i don’t want to bore you all. i hope you guys liked it! please comment and like if you did ;)

bonus!

“Alright, y/n-sama, and Todoroki-sama, and Kaito-chan! Let’s have a look at the baby!” The doctor smiles as she places the gel on your belly. A gasp escaping your lips from the coldness and sudden pressure of the ultrasound on your stomach.

“So my mama didn’t eat my baby? Are you sure?!” Kaito asks again as he holds onto your hand peering at your relatively small belly still. “She doesn’t look fat enough to have done that!”

“Kaito!” You and Shouto exclaim, staring at your son who decides to laugh as he plays with you hair.

“How many weeks are you again?” Your doctor asked, confusion coming across her face.

“Twenty-two.” You say glancing her way, you were nervous, why was that a major concern.

“Well, if you would like to look, here’s your first babies head.” The doctor states. Her finger pointing at a fuzzy circle. You were never good at seeing the baby through an ultrasound picture.

Wait did she say—

“First?!” Kaito says a horrified gasp on his face, “MY MAMA ATE TWO BABIES?!”

“Congrats Todoroki-san’s, you’re having twins! One girl and one boy!”

You looked over at Shouto who seemed just as shocked as you. “Oh my god…”

Tears flow out your eyes and you see the same for Shouto as he comes down to give you the gentlest of kisses.

“Papa, mama ate my baby brother and sister and you’re kissing her?! You must reaaallllyyyy love her!”

“I do really love your mama, Kaito-chan, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! BUT she ate my baby brother and baby sister. That's CRAZY!"

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha writing blog #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha todoroki #bnha imagines #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha todoroki #mha scenarios #bnha scenarios #mha imagine #bnha domestics #todoroki fluff #dad!shouto

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decayedflower · 4 years

Text

Stranger I

⋆ gif is mine

Pairing: Yang Hongwon x Reader

Genre: Underground rapper!Hongwon, Barista!Reader | angst, fluff

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Don’t get attached. This was his number one rule. Attachment means getting hurt. Attachment means vulnerability. You are the only person you can trust. So how could she so easily sneak past and break the walls he had worked so hard to build around his heart when all she is, is a stranger?

Warnings: some cussing, underage drinking, mentions of sex

A/N: Please note that there will probably be more mentions of mature content in the future. Do also keep in mind that this is all fictional, and Hongwon is a grown ass man so if you cannot come to terms with that then this fic is not for you!

You stood at the foot of the apartment; your hand still in its grip on the knob. A pair of glossy red high heels sit prettily at the entrance; right next to your boyfriend’s white Nike Air Jordan 1’s.

There was no way right? Surely this wasn’t what you thought it was.

You hesitantly walk into the apartment, careful not to make any noise. There is no one in the kitchen or in the living room. Your heart booms loudly in your chest. It’s 6pm. Why is he even home? He’s usually out of work by 8pm so it’s a bit early for him to be home…Maybe his sister came over?

Relax, Y/N. Stop overreacting.

Oh but wrong you are and overreacting you are not. As you draw closer, you notice the bedroom door has been left ajar. His naked back is to you, his body caging a girl beneath him, her long curly hair sticking to her face. The bedsheets cover them, but you don’t need to imagine what is going on underneath them. His back muscles flex as he pounds into her. For a moment you’re frozen, all you can see and hear is the way she screams out in pleasure, her nails clawing into his back. You back away, not wanting to see anymore than you have, but finding yourself unable to look away. And then, because the universe hates you, the floorboards creak underneath you.

The girl snaps her eyes open to you and gasps, holding onto your boyfriend to cover herself, “oh my god!”

“What?” Jaewon eyes widen when he turns back and sees you standing through the crack of the door. Your legs hit the back of the couch before you snap out of it and decide to make a run for it.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You hastily grab your bag off the floor, tripping over your own feet, wanting nothing more than to get the fuck out of there. You hear a voice ask faintly in the background, “you know her?” You squeeze your eyes and try to block them out, not wanting to hear his answer. You’re about to leave when you turn to see Jaewon shirtless and buckling his pants in a hurry to get to you. “Y/N, wait—”

And then you’re gone.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were upset.” Hoon says, filling your glass for the fourth time now. You chuckle humorlessly, “Oh yeah? No shit?” You chug half of your drink, Hoon’s stare piercing through the side of your head. “Alright easy now, tiger. What’s got you getting all shitfaced within 10 minutes of you getting here? I’m on the clock you know, I can’t exactly babysit right now.”

“I’m not a baby,” you huff. “And I’m not even drunk yet you asshole.”

“Uh huh,” he rests his cheek on his hand, staring at you expectantly. “You can’t fool me kid, I’ve known you since you were just a little brat. No one goes and gets drunk all alone at this time of night for the shits and giggles.”

You’re huff quietly, stubbornly trying to pretend nothing is wrong but alas, you were never a good liar. “He cheated on me,” you say, your grip on the glass tightening. “What?”

“He cheated on me, Hoon. Jaewon cheated on me,” you finally look at him, tears starting to prick your eyes. Honestly, you were shocked you had lasted this long without crying your eyes out. When you left the apartment you still hadn’t fully processed what you had seen. But now that you sat here in front of Hoon, reality was sitting heavy on your heart.

You have plenty more drinks after that, drunkenly relaying all the details to your friend, coming to terms for the first time that night that your boyfriend of 2 years cheated on you. Eventually, after trying to soothe and calm you down but to no avail, Hoon decides to call your roommate. He loves you and really wishes he could comfort you, but he had already spent quite some time talking to you and his boss was starting to give him stank faces. Also, he was pretty sure anyone within a 5 mile radius had overheard your emotional breakdown with how loud you were being. You’d thank him later.

“Please come get her. My boss will chew my ass out if I don’t get back to work soon. Plus I’ve got her snot all over my shirt and it’s kind of fuckin’ disgusting.”

“Shit, it’s that bad? I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“A-A-And then h-he—aghhhhhhunghh,” you bawl into Hyeri’s coat as she struggles to help you out of the passenger seat of her car. Hyeri loves you. She really does. But she was two seconds away from leaving your ass on the sidewalk with how difficult you were being. “HE SAID HE LUHEED MEE!! HE’S UH LIAR!!!”

“Okay okay, I know honey. He’s a fucking asshole but you need to stop yelling before someone calls the cops on us for a kidnapping, okay?”

You sniff loudly and nod your head at her. “I swear I’m going fucking kill him. Don’t you worry, sweetie he’s not going to get away with this.”

After much tripping and fumbling she manages to haul you to your shared apartment. She sits you on the couch and hands you a water bottle. “I need you to drink this okay? All of it.”

You pout, “don’t wanna.”

“Y/N,” she warns.

“…”

She glares at you, her stare unwavering.

“Fine,” you grab the bottle from her and chug it.

“Thank you,” she smiles at you. “Let’s get you to bed. We can talk about it tomorrow when you’re feeling better okay?”

And you do. The following day you tell her in detail how you walked in on his two timing. You’re embarrassed, to say the least. Embarrassed that you didn’t notice anything was wrong. Embarrassed that you allowed yourself to be made a fool out of. In truth, if someone had asked if you thought Jaewon would ever cheat on you, you would have wholeheartedly said no. Your relationship with Jaewon was perfect. Or at least you had thought it was. He was such a loving boyfriend, a guy who never failed to make sure you felt treasured. He worshipped you body, took you out on nice dates, always told you how pretty you are. You thought he was the perfect guy, but had you just been so blind to the attention he gave you that you didn’t notice when his eyes strayed?

How skilled was he at this game that you had not even dared to think he would cheat on you? For two years he had you wrapped around his finger. You were an idiot for letting him play you like that.

The weekend drags on with you cooped up in your bedroom for the entirety of it. Luckily you had the weekend off to cry to your heart’s content with a tub of ice cream in your lap. You were thankful for Hyeri, always there to comfort you and feed you your favorite foods. Of course she had her own colorful words to say about your ex boyfriend, swearing she’d cut his balls off herself the next time they crossed paths.

Speaking of balls, he sure had a pair on him. (figuratively, not literally, he wasn’t that impressive) He was actually trying to apologize through text.

Jae ♥♥♥: can we talk please? [7:58 PM]

Jae ♥♥♥: i wasn’t in my right mind please believe me [9:58 PM]

Jae ♥♥♥: just let me explain [8:02 PM]

Jae ♥♥♥: baby please [8:17 PM]

You leave his ass on read.

Jae ♥♥♥: Talk to me [11:37 PM]

Jae ♥♥♥: I know you’re reading these [11:45 PM]

Jae ♥♥♥: Y/N? Baby please. [11:57 PM]

Hyeri sits at the foot of your bed, painting her toenails. “He won’t stop texting me.” You watch your phone as texts come in one after another, tears long dried on your cheeks. She snaps her head up, nail polish brush between her fingers in the air, “don’t you fucking dare.”

You sigh, “what if—”

“Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re even considering forgiving him.”

“Oh god no! I just…it’s hard. He’s a fucking pig for cheating on me…but my heart can’t help it. I spent two years of my life with him, Hyeri. He’s the longest relationship I’ve had. This probably sounds stupid, but I really thought he was the one.” You sniff and roll over on your bed, sinking deep into your pillows.

“It’s not stupid, honey. Anyone else in your shoes would feel the same way. But you don’t deserve that shit. Any guy stupid enough to even stray their eyes from someone as goregous and smart as you for their girlfriend, has some real fuckin’ issues. But he did what he did, and let me tell you sweetheart, that shit will not be flying with me. He’d better hope we don’t even get within a 10 mile radius of each other cause so help me those will be his last living moments.”

You grunt a response.

“Stop pouting. If I didn’t have wet toes right now, I’d be engulfing you in a koala hug but just wait til these bad boys dry.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The beginning of your shift at the cafe goes by quickly. It’s a monday so the early morning rush keeps you busy for a while. After the rush of people in need of their daily dose of caffeine before work and school, only a couple of patrons remain in the shop. The small break allows you to clear up tables and replace empty bottles and containers on the shelves while it’s slow.

Jaewon continued to bombard your phone with texts over the weekend in hopes that you would give in and talk things over with him. You wanted to block him, but a small part of you also enjoyed the little power you had over him when you read his desperate messages only to leave him with silence. You have seen plenty of shitty relationships where people stay even when they get cheated on but you’re smart enough to recognize a toxic relationship when you see one. Forgiving someone after they are unfaithful just seems impossible to you. If they cheat once, they could certainly do it again. Call you a dumb bitch for not seeing the signs earlier but you’re not stupid enough to do that to yourself.

You chastise yourself for letting your thoughts wander to him again and finish wiping down the last table. The ding of the bell at the front entrance signals the entrance of a new customer, and you call out instinctively, “Welcome! I’ll be there in just a moment!” Let me catch my breath for a second, will you universe? You grumble inwardly. You quickly grab the rag you were using and make your way to the kitchen. You toss it into a bin in the back and greet them at the front counter.

“Good morning,” you say in your best work voice, only briefly acknowledging the customer’s presence, “What can I get for you today?”

To be honest you only half-assedly spoke, contrary to the sickly sweet voice you were using. You were hoping to quickly get through this order so you could go back to moping quietly at the back of the cafe. You keep your gaze on the register’s screen, ready to punch in whatever drink this guy wanted.

“Mornin.”

The deep timbre of his voice slightly startles you and you try to not make it obvious in the way you snap your eyes up to get a peek at him. You instantly regret it. His dark hair hides beneath a black beanie, small curls peeking out from the back of it. He’s dressed casually in a dark gray hoodie and loose black cargo pants, but he somehow makes it look like it belongs on a magazine cover. Fuck. He’s the epitome of grunge emo boy hottie. You cover up your gawking with a nervous smile.

He returns your smile with a boyish smile of his own that you find quite endearing.

“Can I get two medium iced americanos, please.” Two drinks, huh. Maybe he has a girlfriend he’s meeting here. Fuck. You really don’t need cute emo boy here to get all lovey dovey with his (probably) really pretty girlfriend in front of you to remind you of just how broken and unmendable your own relationship is.

“Of course,” you punch in the order (perhaps a bit too aggressively). “Can I get a name for the order?”

“Hongwon.”

Fuck this guy. Even his name is cute. How’s that even possible? “Hongwon,” you repeat, grabbing two medium sized cups and writing it down. “Alright, your total is going to be $6.50.”

He hands you his card, your fingers brushing slightly as he does so. You ignore the way your cheeks start to heat up and quickly ring him up before you hand him his receipt. “Your drinks will be ready soon.”

“Thanks.”

Okay, get a hold of yourself, Y/N. It’s not his fault you’re single because your boyfriend turned out to be a douche. You sigh and make a grab for the coffee beans when your coworker emerges from the back of the kitchen.

“Hey Jungkook, back from break?”

He yawns and nods, “Yeah. I should have taken a damn nap though.” You chuckle, “what, you stay up playing Resident Evil all night again?”

He gasps dramatically and stops what he is doing to look at you, “Rude of you to assume I wasn’t up studying!” You fill two cups with ice and water. “We both know your ass wasn’t studying, you big goof.”

“Okay, I wasn’t. But that shit still hurted bro.”

You laugh again and shake your head. Jungkook tops the two cups with espresso and places the lids on them.

“Hongwon?” He calls out, reading your handwriting. You try to not look when you hear his footsteps draw closer and instead busy yourself with replacing an empty bottle of vanilla syrup.

“Thanks man.”

“No problem dude.”

As you go to toss out the empty syrup bottle, you note that the chocolate syrup is nearly gone as well as the caramel. Who the hell closed the shop last night? You swear it was probably that new guy Namjoon. He was really sweet and funny, but he was also incredibly clumsy and forgetful. You groan to yourself, remembering that both boxes of chocolate and caramel syrup are placed at the highest rack on the shelves where you can’t reach.

The bell rings again and a tall boy enters the cafe; one you recognize as Choi Hamin, one of your regular customers who you had befriended not too long ago. He smiles and waves at you. You return the gesture and blink confusedly when he doesn’t come to the register to order himself a drink.

“So how have you been, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, bringing your attention back to him.

“Huh?”

“It’s been a while since we worked a shift together.” You internally groan when he asks the one question you’ve been dreading all day. Jungkook tosses out the syrup bottles you left on the counter and heads towards the storage room in the kitchen, probably having watched your inner mental breakdown. You follow him into the room, opting to joke around with him to avoid voicing how you actually feel. “That’s because you keep giving your shifts away, headass. Maybe if you actually came into work…” you tease.

He laughs loudly and raises his hands in defense, “Whoa whoa whoa, I did not ask to be called out like that! You’re full of sass today aren’t you? Besides, you didn’t answer my question.” he immediately finds the boxes he’s looking for and reaches for them. “What’re you up to these days?”

Your fingers play with an open box of coffee creamers on a nearby shelf absentmindedly. “Oh uhm nothing much. I’m good. Just, you know, school. Art projects and stuff.” You internally cringe at the way you are unable to form a lie on the spot. “Nothing too crazy. How about you?” you ask quickly, hoping to pass the attention back onto him.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder and studies your face for a while before he decides to speak. “I’m good but…is everything really okay?”

“Yeah, it’s not too stressful. Besides, you know me, always keeping my head buried in those—”

“That’s not what I meant.”

His expression is unreadable, but the concern that laces his voice is clear. You stare at him blankly for a while, unable to find your voice. You both look at each other for a moment before a voice breaks the silence.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Ah, uh—coming!” you call out. You head back to the register quickly, eager to avoid Jungkook’s little interrogation.

“I’m really sorry if it’s any trouble…” Hamin starts, “I was just wondering if you guys changed the wifi password… It’s been a while since I was last here. Sorry.” He stands there hesitantly, obviously sensing the tension between you and Jungkook who takes to replacing the bottles of syrup behind you.

“Oh! No, it’s no trouble at all,” you say quickly and move to grab a sticky note so you can write down the server and password. “Actually, I forgot to make a new poster for the wifi since we changed our service provider last week. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, thank you Y/N,” he smiles meekly and turns on his feet. “No worries.” You’re still watching after him when you see him sit down across from Hongwon.

Ahhhhh …so he was meeting Hamin. Hamin is friends with cute emo boy.

Jungkook’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. “Did something happen?” He asks you tentatively. You sigh. “Why would you think that?” You avoid his gaze and start wiping down the counter.

“You’re not looking at me.” He points out.

You halt your movements and look at him. “What do you want me to say, Jungkook?”

“I don’t know! The truth! It just…it feels like something is bothering you.” He says quietly.

“I’m fine. Honestly, Jungkook. Nothing is bothering me. I’m fine.” You continue wiping down the counter. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice he flinches slightly when you say it a little too aggressively.

The front entrance bell dings once again and for a second you thank the heavens for yet another momentary distraction from Jungkook’s prying until you lift your head up to greet them.

“Hell—” your voice dies in your throat along with every ounce of confidence you thought you had in yourself should this encounter occur. You freeze for a moment, unsure of how to react to his unannounced visit.

Ah, so that’s what it is, Jungkook realizes. He decides to let the scene unfold a bit before he intervenes.

“What are you doing here?” You demand immediately.

“Y/N…When are you taking a break? Can we talk?…Please?”

“I’ve had my break. I can’t talk. I’m working.”

“Just five minutes, please bab—”

“Don’t call me that.” You mentally scold yourself for the way your voice cracks slightly when you say it.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just…when are you off? I’ll wait for y—”

“I’m not talking to you!” You yell, unconsciously taking a few steps back every time he takes one forward, even though there’s a counter that separates you both. The volume of your outburst startles Jungkook beside you, realizing how the exchange is slowly gathering the attention of everyone in the cafe.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” You repeat softly “Please respect that, Jaewon. You should leave.” You refuse to look at him, instead opting for the dirty tiles on the floor. He doesn’t say anything as he takes his leave. Your only sign he’s gone is the sound of the bell as the door closes after him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Half of your lunch break has passed when you finish relaying all of the details to Jungkook, who has finished his shift but stayed back to talk to you.

“He’s a fucking piece of shit! He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N.” Jungkook paces around the break room with his hands on his hips. When he saw you tense at the arrival of Jaewon, he figured that you two had probably just gotten into a heated argument, at best. But he was less than ecstatic to hear otherwise when you revealed to him that he had actually cheated on you.

You sigh and shove your face into your arms on the table. “I’ll stay here and walk you home when you finish your shift.” You quickly pick your head back up. “What? No, Jungkook you don’t have to do that.”

“What if he starts harassing you when you’re walking home? He seemed adamant on getting a chance to talk to you.”

“I really don’t think he cares that much, Jungkook. Plus, even if he wants to talk to me, it’s not like I plan on giving him another chance. I’m not that dumb.”

“You’re not dumb. This isn’t your fault okay?” He remains quiet for a second before he grabs a chair and scoots it close to you, sitting on it backwards. “Listen. He doesn’t deserve you. Anyone who is stupid enough to throw you away like that is a fucking idiot. You deserve someone who will treat you like a queen.”

You chuckle lightly but say nothing, keeping your gaze cast on the floor. “If you won’t let me walk you home,” he continues “at least text me when you leave work and let me know right when you get home. Okay?”

“Jungkook,” you laugh, “you do know it’ll still be light out when I’m off right?.”

“That doesn’t matter. People do bad shit at any time of the day Y/N, they don’t care.”

“Alright, alright. Yes, dad.” you joke.

“I think I like daddy better.”

“Ew, Jungkook.”

“I’m just kidding! But on a serious note, please be careful, alright? If he gives you any trouble, call me. I’ll have you know I’ve been taking boxing lessons recently.” He says proudly.

“Are you actually concerned or is your ego really that big?” you deadpan.

He whines and grabs your hands. “Y/N. Hyeri will kill me if anything happens to you. You do know that right?” You push his hands away.

“You asshole! So you just want to get on Hyeri’s good side!”

“Noooo, I do care! Hyeri is just a plus! I swear!”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Yeah, yeah whatever. Go home, Junglebook.”

“Fine,” he pouts, grabbing his backpack and putting his bucket hat on his head. “Don’t forget to text me and call me if anything okay?”

“I will, I will.”

“Okay. Bye Y/N, get home safe.”

“You too Jungkookie.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Me: the one across from the Chinese restaurant right? [7:50 AM]

Hamin: yea the Grind [7:52 AM]

Hamin: I’ll be there in 10 [7:53 AM]

Hongwon stuffs his phone in his back pocket and shivers slightly. Hamin sure had some nerve making him wait. Especially when it was this damn cold. So goddamn early too.

The pair were in the middle of working on a song together and their deadline was steadily approaching. To be honest, they had been pushing it off so much because it just wasn’t coming together. Something wasn’t clicking. With just two weeks left, they figured they had to try to conjure up some lyrics that at least sounded decent.

Hey, I have an idea! Let’s wake up at the ass crack of dawn when our brain juices are hardly flowing! Surely we’ll make a masterpiece this way! He has no idea what the hell was Hamin thinking, because he sure as hell wouldn’t do this to himself intentionally.

He parks his motorcycle on the side of the curb and kicks the kickstand to keep it in place. He squints at the sign of the coffee shop, making sure he’s at the right place. He sighs, finding that unfortunately he is, and his ass will indeed have to get into work mode. He drags himself to the door, pulling on it and immediately noticing the lack of people upon entering. He silently thanks his friend for making at least one smart decision in this dumb plan of his. Looking around for free tables, he mentally picks out an empty table to claim by the window.

“Welcome! I’ll be there in just a moment!”

Hongwon nods at you silently, sweeping his eyes around the coffee shop. He notes that the decor is quite minimalistic, which he appreciates. He hates it when coffee shops try to do the most with overly expensive and fragile looking tea cups and such adorning the walls.

“Good morning. What can I get for you today?”

“Mornin’,” he smiles at you, the sullen look you had before you plastered a smile on your face, not escaping him.

He briefly looks down at the menu, even though he already knows what he’s going to order. Hamin likes americanos right? Who doesn’t? Even if he doesn’t, it serves him right for making him get up so early. “Can I get two medium iced americanos, please?”

“Of course.” He watches you punch in his order, your teeth biting into your lip in concentration. Your hair is neatly plaited into a braid, some strands falling loosely around the frame of your face.

“Can I get a name for the order?”

“Hongwon,” he says, watching you write his name on two cups.

“Your drinks will be ready soon.”

“Thanks,” Hangwon takes his receipt and finds the table he had picked near the window. He fishes out his phone and opens up his conversation with Hamin.

Me: I ordered drinks [8:12 AM]

Me: why is ur noodle looking ass taking so damn long??? [8:13 AM]

Chamin: fuck you I had to take my sister to school dingus [8:15 AM]

Chamin: i’m almost there chill i’ll buy u lunch or smth [8:15 AM]

Me: hell yeah [8:16 AM]

Me: screenshotting this [8:16 AM]

Hamin: why do i already regret that [8:19]

Hongwon chuckles and puts his phone down on the table. The inside of the coffee shop is warm, baked goods and coffee beans wafting through the air with dark mahogany bookshelves gracing the walls. If he’s being truthful, he would never step into a place like this on his own even. Although now that he’s sitting here he finds himself enjoying it. He guesses he’s thankful for the quiet seeing as though he actually has shit to get done. Usually though, his scene is more a rowdy one.

Hongwon watches you as work, joking around with your coworker, whose name he catches is Jungkook. He notices again how your smiles seem halfhearted, always keeping your gaze on the floor. He stops himself there. He’s over analyzing everything about you when he doesn’t even know you.

“Hongwon?” your coworker calls out.

He stands to receive his drinks, mentally cursing Hamin for making him look like a loner with two drinks. He sighs and glances outside the window to people watch. He taps his fingers along the wood of the table. I guess I can work in this atmosphere. Hamin’s lucky he had his morning cigarette.

Ding!

Speak of the devil. Hongwon glares at his friend as he makes his way towards him. Hamin smiles sheepishly, “Hey man sorry, Samantha couldn’t find her pink sparkly sweater and she ‘just had to wear it!’” He mocks his younger sibling’s voice in what he considers the whine of a 6 year old girl.

He cringes at his taller friend, “Eww, you’re forgiven just please never make that repulsive sound ever again.” Hamin punches his shoulder playfully, taking a seat across from him and reaching for the laptop in his bag. He fiddles around with for a bit before he sighs. “Shit, I can’t get a connection.” He squints at his laptop and then rises from his seat. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” Hongwon dismisses half heartedly; too busy going over lyrics he has written in an old notebook, trying to pick something they could potentially use for the track they had been agonizing over for weeks.

“Hey Y/N?” Hongwon watches as you meet him at the counter, smiling at him apologetically. He wonders how well you two know each other. He shakes his head and continues to bury himself in lyrics. He should be focused on this and not on things that don’t concern him. What was wrong with him? Must be the lack of sleep, he thinks. He sighs out loud thinking he could use another cigarette.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Undress the pants like Young B,” Hamin slaps his hand on his thigh and laughs like he just said the funniest joke on the planet. “That would be fucking hilarious! God, I still can’t believe you did that.”

“Oh my god, dude! That would be sooo fucking funny!” he says, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Fuck you! I was drunk, alright. And just for that, I will add that in so suck my dick.” Hongwon smirks and types it out on the lyrics file. The taller boy puts his hands up in mock apology, “Sorry, I don’t swing that way.”

“Go to hell.”

“Are you really putting that in there?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

Hamin peeks at the laptop. “Damn, didn’t think you’d actually do it. Gimme creds though.”

“You’re really fuckin’ shameless you know that?”

Hamin is about to reply when your voice raises an octave. “What are you doing here?”

They both turn to look at the scene where you stand behind the counter, backing away slightly from the man in front of you.

“Y/N…When are you taking a break? Can we talk? Please?”

“I’ve had my break. I can’t talk. I’m working.” You reply curtly.

“Just five minutes, please bab—”

You flinch slightly at the word, “Don’t call me that.” It’s clear that you don’t seem too keen on talking to him. He puts two and two together and decides that this guy is probably your boyfriend. “I’m not talking to you!” You yell at him. You’re obviously upset with something he did to you, and much to his surprise, he leaves without too much of a fuss.

The patrons of the cafe had all been watching the whole thing, the shop deathly quiet until he takes his leave.

“Poor Y/N…” Hamin says before turning back to the work in front of him.

“Yeah,” he agrees “sounded rough.” He watches as your manager comes out upon hearing the commotion, your coworker explaining the situation before you’re ushered to what he assumes is probably the breakroom. “You know her?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I met her when I first started coming here a few months back. She’s really sweet, she’s our age actually. I guess something happened with her boyfriend...”

“Huh,” he responds, taking this information quietly, trying not to appear too interested.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Work after Jungkook went home became increasingly boring. Your other coworker Yoongi replaced him, but the cafe only became more quiet as time passed. It wasn’t that Yoongi was boring, he was just more of an introvert. On the contrary, you often preferred Yoongi’s presence because the silence with him was never uncomfortable. Of course today, however, the silence is your enemy, leaving you alone with your thoughts and nothing to block them out.

There is one good thing that was left though. You glance at his table for what feels like the millionth time that day. The cute emo boy had remained in the cafe, writing away in his notebook, his taller friend long since gone. They had spent a good six hours chattering away with each other and hovering over that laptop ever since they came in this morning. It strangely brought some peace to you, seeing him so committed to whatever he was writing in his notebook. You felt embarrassed that he and Hamin had been witnesses to the whole fiasco with your ex boyfriend in front of everyone. You wish the earth would just swallow you whole already.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, popping his head out from behind the kitchen door frame “Boss says you’re good to go home, Seokjin just came in.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks Yoongi.” You go to move past him before he stops you.

“Hey,” he starts “…it’s getting pretty cold outside, so make sure you’re bundled up alright?”

Neither of you has to say it, but you both know his words carry a double meaning. He knows what happened. But Yoongi is not the type of guy to feed you bullshit just to comfort you. You smile at his small way of taking care of you, “I will.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The time on your phone reads 2:23 when you finally clock off and find yourself outside the shop staring up at the granite sky, the cold air biting at your skin. Although the gloomy weather does nothing to lift your spirits, it’s still your favorite type of weather.

“Looks like it’ll probably start raining, huh?” The deep voice behind you startles you, and it’s not until you turn to look at him that you realize who it is. He stands there looking at the rapidly increasing clouds, with his lips turned down and his hands shoved in his pockets.

It’s cute emo boy. “Huh?” he looks at you, tilting his head in confusion. Shit, did you say that out loud? “A-ah-uh…you’re Hamin’s friend, right?” you blurt out. “Saw you guys sitting together.”

“Oh, uh yeah,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck and looking out into the street, “he suggested we meet for a project since he really likes the coffee here.”

“I think he likes more the fact that I give him free drinks sometimes rather than the coffee itself,” you giggle to yourself. Your nose crinkles slightly when you do, shaking your head to yourself in amusement. Cute, he thinks. Wait, what the hell? Did he just think that about a random girl he just met? Damn he really needed to get laid.

“Well,” you say, pushing your bag up higher on your shoulder. “I should probably get going before it starts to rain.” You begin to walk in the direction of your apartment when he internally begins to panic.

“Oh—uh, I’m actually walking this way too,” he blurts. Why the hell did he say that???

“Oh really? Guess we can walk together then,” you laugh.

“Uh yeah, sure,” he shrugs casually.

You both begin your trek “home” in silence. Neither of you speak, not quite knowing what to say but wanting to say something. Hongwon mentally chastises himself for being such a fool and irrationally lying to you just so he could talk to you for a bit more. He doesn’t even know why he said that but he reasons that it’s just because you’re Hamin’s friend and he probably wouldn’t want you walking alone. Even if it was still day time.

“I’m Hongwon by the way,” he blurts.

You stifle a laugh with your hand, “I know, I took your order this morning remember?” Fucking idiot. “I’m Y/N,” you say.

“Er well, I didn’t really think you’d remember,” he says lamely.

“Of course, I did! Oh, right!” you say suddenly, “you mentioned you were working on a project with Hamin. What kind of project is it? If you don’t mind me asking” you add.

Hongwon watches you from the corner of his eye; your eyes trained on your feet, fingers playing with the fringes of the scarf around your neck. He looks away and smiles slightly at your politeness. “I don’t mind,” he shoves his hands into the warmth of his hoodie pockets, suddenly shy. “We’re working on a song. I uh—we write music.” He feels nervous somehow, saying that to you. He avoids saying the words “SoundCloud” and “rapper” in fear that you’d laugh at him. He knows there isn’t the best of reputations associated with soundcloud rappers. Not that he’s embarrassed of being one himself. He just inexplicably wants to make a good impression on you.

Your lips form into a little ‘o’ at his admission. “Really,” you breathe, a puff of air coming from your mouth when you do. “That’s so cool!” Hongwon shoots his head towards you at your reaction. “Huh, I always wondered what Hamin was up to working on that laptop of his for so many hours! So, you guys in a band or something?” you ask him, your eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Um no, not really…” he replies, still taken aback at your reaction. “You must be pretty good then. Since you guys were working in there for so long,” you tease. Hongwon flushes, remembering how Hamin had left hours before him since they had surprisingly been able to power out some good lyrics. He only stayed behind to work on some of his own stuff though, he argues to himself.

“Ah well, we have a deadline to meet so we kind of had to,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck. “A deadline? Wow, I guess it’s really serious then. That’s really cool,” you smile. “Might have to ask you to play me something of yours one day.” You flush at your own words when you realize what they imply and backtrack immediately. “If you ever plan on coming back to the Grind that is,” you bring your hands up in front of you, coming to a stop. “If not, maybe I can convince you and Hamin with a drink on the house,” you laugh nervously.

“Of course I’ll be back! I-I mean, we…err, I really liked your coffee,” he stutters. Hongwon internally slaps himself. You had an iced americano, you idiot! Just how exotic and delicious is that?! And quit acting like a 5 year old girl!

“Awesome! I basically live there so you’re bound to see me sometime,” you laugh softly. “Well, this is me,” you say pointing to a street behind you. “Thanks for walking with me, Hongwon. I know it’s probably only because I’m friends with Hamin, but I still really appreciate it.”

“Hey, I enjoyed the walk just as much as you did. Besides, I was going this way anyways,” he looks away, scratching his cheek.

“I guess I’ll see you around then?” you ask, walking backwards.

“Sure,” he calls out, putting a hand up in farewell.

Okay so, in hindsight this was probably not his best idea. Hongwon looks up at the stormy sky as small raindrops begin to fall from the sky. He sighs dejectedly and begins his walk back to his motorcycle. Oh yes, let me walk with you! I’m going this way anyway! Tell that to the Venom X-22 GT you left parked on the side of the curb, moron.

part II

#young b #yang hongwon #khiphop #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #yang hongwon x reader #indigo music

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witcherarcanathings · 5 years

Text

Protecting you from the Past

A Reader x Asra Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

You and Asra are out shopping when you are confronted with a shadow of your forgotten past.

Possible triggers for mentions of past domestic abuse.

You and Asra were walking through the Marketplace one Saturday, enjoying the sunshine and the lively activity that flows through the Vesuvian Market. Musicians, performers, artists were all there showcasing their works, along with the usual wonderful sights and smells of the vendors.

After getting some basic supplies for the shop the two of you split split up so Asra could grab something they needed on their upcoming journey, while you went to go admire the silks and perfumes of your favorite shop.

While you were browsing a man approached you from behind.

"Hello" he says smiling broadly. You can feel him raking his eyes all over you.

" Hello" you say curtly, hoping he would take the hint you weren’t interested.

You continue browsing through the fabrics, still conscious of the nearness of the stranger. You can tell he is still watching you. Leering actually.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he speaks to you again.

"That's all you have to say to me? Just hello, after all this time?"

"I'm sorry do I know you?" You ask, confused and anxious.

He starts to get upset. "Look I know things didn't end for us on the best terms. But there's no need to treat me as if I don't exist."

"I don't even know you!" You say, frantically searching for Asra with your eyes.

"Oh Come on MC," The man says reaching out to you

You step back in shock. How did he know your name?

"Look I'm sorry maybe we did know each other, but I really don't remember you. I had an accident and I've lost my memory of the last 3 years."

“There's no need to lie," he says taking hold of your arm. "Please MC, I've missed you. Missed us."

You're freaking out, because you have no Idea who this man is, and you’re caught in his grasp. No matter what you say he won't believe you.

"Asra!" You call out nervously from the stall. You hope he hadn't gone too far.

"You must remember," he purrs, smoothly pulling you closer.

"Don’t tell me you've forgotten all those good times we had together MC, that first summer I came to Vesuvia... how we used to kiss under the moonlight in the fountain square." He whispered in your ear as he took you in your arms.

"Let go! Let go! Please!" You say twisting away, but he holds fast.

"Enough MC! You're making a scene. I know you haven't forgotten me, I know you still miss this..." He kisses you, hard and passionate. It takes a moment for you to come to your senses and squirm away.

"What's going on here!" Asra calls from the stall entrance, glowering at the man.

You run to Asra.

"Asra! I-" you're flushed red with embarrassment and confusion. "He says I know him. I tried to tell him I didn’t but"

"It's okay" Asra says, coming up to embrace you trying to calm you.

"You're seeing that card peddling orphan now? Is that why you're pretending not to know me?" The man snapped.

"She isn't pretending. She doesn't know you. But I do. I also know why she left you," Asra places themself between you and your forgotten ex-lover. Asra crosses their arms and gives the Stranger a disgusted look.

"She told me all about what you did to her. Touch her again, and I'll make you pay for every scar right here and now." Asra said cooly.

"Our relationship is none of your business, Harbor Rat. MC loved me and I loved her. I still do." Your ex-lover steps towards you, with pleading eyes. "I know I hurt you before MC. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. It'll never happen again."

He looks into your eyes, speaking softly "Tell me you didn’t feel anything when I kissed you. Tell me you felt nothing. Lie to him if you have to but I know."

You almost feel sorry for the man, until you see something dark and predatory lurking behind his eyes. You feel a faint memory of pain and fear, mixed with guilt. Trauma.

"Leave me alone," you say forcefully. "I don't know you, I don't want to know you." You say, lacing fingers with Asra, still keeping behind then,using Asra as a shield.

"You heard her," Asra warned sharply. "Leave, and don’t approach her again. She has no want of you."

You don't remember walking back to the shop, but Asra held your hand tight the entire way there. When you got home they embraced you tightly, apologizing for leaving you alone. Telling you from now on, you'll stay together in the market. Do you want tea? They'll make some anyway. "You go lie down and relax," Asra tells you "Don't worry about the man in the marketplace. He won't be back."

Moments later Asra brings, a tray of tea into bed where the two of you cuddle into blankets and pillows. Asra's hand never leaving you, always reassuring you that you're safe now that you're together.

When you ask him about the man, they lets out a long sigh, and you watch his eyes shifting side to side. You can see their unsure about whether to tell you. Or how much to tell you.

“Asra, please. I’ll be okay I promise.” You try to tell convince them.

“Alright,” Asra says after a moment. “But if you start getting headaches, you tell me right away. I don’t want to lose you again...”

“I promise.” you say, squeezing their hand.

Asra takes their other hand and runs it through your hair soothingly. “His name is Michael. I know that probably, doesn’t mean anything to you now, but before you and I met, he was your boyfriend. One night when we were together I noticed their were scars in different places, all over.” Asra shuddered, bawling their fists.

“When I asked you, you wouldn’t tell me at first. Just saying that you were clumsy, you hurt yourself all the time. But I didn’t buy it, so you told me the truth: how he would get jealous or upset over anything, and he would beat you.You’re so beautiful MC, I don’t know what kind of monster would raise a hand to you...” You looked at Asra, tears forming in their eyes. You brushed your thumb along Asra's cheek to wipe them away.

Asra smiled, and brought your hand to their lips to kiss your palm and the inside of your wrist. “ ’It was along time ago’, you said and you told me about how free you felt when you left him, moving to your aunt’s to start a new life. And how meeting me was the best thing that had happened to you in a long time.”

“That’s still true, Asra.” you say softly.

“I know, MC” Asra says kissing your forehead. “You’re the most precious to me. I love you.”

“I know, Asra.” you say, burying your head into their chest.

The two of you stay together in a comfortable loving embrace, neither of you letting the other forget how much they are loved.

#not the asra x mc thing I promised you #but it came to me last night #so here you go #asra x apprentice #asra x mc #asra x you #The Arcana Game #the arcana asra #asra alnazar #asra the magician #asra x reader #drabbles #my posts #my writing

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leonkennedystuff · 5 years

Text

not alone p.2 (leon kennedy x reader)

[RE4!Leon]

Summary: wherein reader finally confronts leon about ada wong

Warnings: angst, swearing, underage drinking, descriptions of mental illness, mentions of broken family (?)

Part 2 of 2

holy crap, you guys. This is probably the longest chapter I’ve ever written in my LIFE. I got so carried away making this oops I’m sorry but wah! I’m so happy it’s finally done! Hope you guys enjoy!

Weary (E/C) eyes staring blankly outside the window, the budding feeling of depression pays you another visit– like a viper, it coils around your scorned heart tighter and tighter, choking you.

It’s been 6 days since that horrid fight with your longtime boyfriend, Leon Kennedy, and your insatiable sadness was the only friend you let in and comfort you. You knew you were coping with this unhealthily, you were aware you were setting yourself up for disaster, but you honestly could care less. You barely felt the discomforts anyway; you didn’t give no mind to how weak or hungry or tired or numb you felt all over. You just didn’t have the energy or the will. You felt, for a lack of better words, dead – and the last memory you had before you died was that fucking fight.

On that same night, you left your shared apartment; you packed a bag and practically had to force your way out because Leon kept trying to stop you, blocking the door, pleading with you to talk your problem through. Despite how vulnerable you were feeling though, you didn’t budge – refusing him his request, refusing to hear anything else about his standing with Ada Wong.

Relentless attempts after relentless attempts, he figured his pleas were falling on deaf ears. He eventually lets you go. Watching you leave - it was like the biggest part of his heart left with you. He’s never felt so empty, and you weren’t doing so well either.

That was the last time you’ve seen or spoken with Leon; his messages on your phone, the calls you were rejecting - they continued to grow almost hourly, but you had no plan on answering them. Not now, at least. You needed to heal; reading his words or hearing his voice, your emotions would overshadow your logic. You knew you’d succumb to how much you missed him and you had to be stronger than that.

Currently (and for the past 6 days), you’ve been squatting at your best friend’s apartment. Claire Redfield has been your constant person ever since you were children; your family and the Redfields have been long-time friends and you got along with her just like your parents did. You’ve never trusted anyone the same way you did her, at least not until Leon entered your life almost a decade after.

When you met Leon, you were 19 and had just moved into a new city to pursue your degree in Nursing. You were no philanthropist but you always wanted a career that revolved around helping others, it was a striking similarity you and him shared.

One night long ago, you were invited by some classmates to go drinking in a bar, a bar that was a favorite among students because they didn’t check ID – and that was when you saw him for the first time.

You almost smile at the fond memory.

He was with a bunch of loud, intoxicated and rowdy cadets from the police academy not so far from your school, he stuck out like a sore thumb because of how awkward he looked with them. Definitely, the comradery with him and everyone in that group was evident but he just seemed so out-of-place as the other guys hustled around, trapping him in the middle of their wild antics. Although you thought it was funny, you also remember feeling bad for him.

It was around 2 in the morning when you decided you really had enough drinks and were going to call it a night.

Despite the protests of your friends, you bid them a woozy goodbye and started heading out of the still cramp, neon-signed local bar. You barely made it a foot out the door when your drunk body doubled over, the urge to puke out the excess alcohol making your already dizzy head spin more. This wasn’t your first time drinking, absolutely not, but this was the first time you drank more than you could handle.

Did you regret it? Even with the throbbing hangover you had the next day - no, you don’t, because if it weren’t for you getting so shit-faced, you don’t think you would have had the interaction you did with Leon.

“Someone really enjoyed their night,” A pleasant voice resonates from behind, teasing you. Too out of it to check the face it belonged to, you remain as you are – your knees on the rough pavement while your head hovered over a bush. “That makes one of us,” He notes, his mild amusement and his voice drawing closer as he walks to where you were.

“Do you need help?” He asks, his badinage tone now mixed with a hint of genuine concern. When you feel him settle beside you, bending a knee so he was at your level and so that he can take a better look at how wasted you were, you finally turn just enough to see who this enigmatic joker was.

For a second, you felt like you sobered up at the mere sight of him. Initially, from his attire – a plain white shirt clouded by a navy-blue windbreaker and fitted black pants- you recognized him as the awkward dude from the big crowd, but your attention shifts from that after your gaze falls on his face.

My God – you wondered just how drunk you were to have your beer goggles be this misleading. There was no way, you thought, that anyone could look this heavenly.

A dirty-blonde guy with fringes framing his fresh face looked to be the same age as you; he had a small smile on his plump pink lips. He was saying something, his mouth was moving, but it’s like you’ve suddenly turned deaf. You were so fixated on his looks.

You note how structured his features are, like a sculpture, his jaw was ample and strong and contrasted well with the fullness of his rosy cheeks. He had beauty marks decorating his clear skin, two on his neck and one small one beside his celestial nose. The real star, though, were his eyes. They were bluer than blue, like sapphires and moonstones.

Who the hell was this dude?

“So, are you going to tell me or should I just guess?” He cocks a dark eyebrow, his playful demeanor returning. Snapping out of your trance, you just blink at him, confused.

Oh right, he was talking.

“What?” You manage to find your voice but hate how raspy it sounded even to your own ears. He chuckles, looking down. His long eyelashes flutter as he subconsciously checks your body for any wounds or bruises you may have gotten in your buzzed state.

“I was asking for your name,” He repeats himself, clearly finding the cute but besotted girl humorous.

Your own cheeky personality coming out, you give him a curious squint. “What’s it to you?” You question, “I happen to be very familiar with the saying–“ You lean forward a bit to be dramatic but stagger a little. As if on instinct, the blonde holds you by the shoulders. It was almost impossible to ignore the flurry of sensation building under your skin where his hands were. “-‘stranger danger’,” You finish off with air-quotations, keeping your cool.

The guy laughs again, the luxuriance of it making your own mouth curl upwards in a smile.

“Maybe you’ll feel better knowing I’m training to be a cop?” He offers, riding along with your banter. You shake your head, “No, I’ve heard stories of serial killer police men. All charming and dutiful and handsome – you could definitely be in the list and I’m not risking it,”

With that, Leon’s face lights up with a surprised expression. You also note how his confident demeanor suddenly shifted into a coy one. You nearly raise your eyebrows in question but realize soon after why.

Damn your drunk tendencies!

Now amply embarrassed, you open your mouth to apologize but were cut off with his bona fide smile. “You’ll just have to trust that I’m going to be one of the good ones,” He says, his voice softer but seemingly warmer. “I’m Leon Kennedy,” He introduces himself, earnestly outstretching a hand for you to shake. You take it, a blush undoubtedly heating up your face.

“(Y/N) (L/N),” You respond.

That night, Leon walked you back to your dormitory and the rest became history. It didn’t take long for you both to develop the feelings sparked by the night you met – it was only a matter of a few months until he finally confessed the obvious affection you had for one another. You both agreed, though, to remain as friends until you both graduated.

Your ‘remain as friends’ phase lasted almost 2 years, but you didn’t mind because you were so in love with him and he, you. You’ve never been happier. When you graduated from college and him from police academy, he wasted no time asking you to be together.

You couldn’t wait to finally tell Claire all about it; you’ve updated her that there was someone you were seeing but left it at that until you and Leon were official. You planned to meet with Claire the day after Leon left for Raccoon City, also the day that she’d be coming back from the same place to check up on her older brother, Chris.

Of course, everyone knew about the tragic events that lead to the death of hundreds and thousands of people in Raccoon. When the outbreak first spread, you heard about it in the television and nearly fainted in the hospital you were working as a trainee nurse. You thought you could die right then and there – your body and your heart unable to cope with the distress plaguing your head. For nights on end, you couldn’t sleep and, the rare times you were able to, it was due to fatigue from crying so much.

You couldn’t fathom the thought of either Leon or Claire in danger, hurt, or worse.

When you received the most gratifying news though that they both made it out alive and clear from the horrific infection, you felt lucid. You don’t remember crying as hard as you did that day. When you found out that Claire and Leon actually ran into each other during the outbreak, you started to bawl again. They took up the deepest crevices of your heart.

You scoff softly at that.

Look how that now turned out in your favor. Half of it was broken beyond repair.

Suddenly, for the nth time this night, your phone blares in the dreary guest room you occupied, disrupting the welcomed silence. Your reverie broken, you sit up sluggishly on the bed too big for one person, your gaze indolently shifting to the vibrating device beside you. You didn’t need to think twice or wonder who it could be; your heart was already clenching knowing it was him.

With the heaviest feeling settled in your chest, you bring yourself to push your phone away, to push Leon away. To think nearly six years of your life was spent being with someone who might not have been entirely set on you after all…

You lay back down on the soft, silky sheets and close your exhausted eyes until the only noise left was your wounded sobbing. Inconsolable, dismal, helpless.

Alone with your wayward thoughts, another painful feeling creeps up your chest – although he was a persistent and tenacious man, you were sure he’ll eventually tire from reaching out just to have you ignore him. How long will it take until he finally gives up? How long will it take until he’s moved on from you? Will he be with Ada?

Too lost in your own sorrow, you almost didn’t hear the soft knocks resonating from the other side of the door. “(Y/N)?”

Startled, you bring your pounding head up. For a moment, you weren’t sure whether you imagined the sound. “Yeah?” You croak, your voice scratchy and barely there. You’ve misused yourself for the past few days and it was beginning to show.

“It’s me,” Claire leans her cheek on the door, pressing an ear to the wood. “Can I come in?”

You prop yourself upright a second time and a sudden wave of vertigo hits you. You lean back on the headboard, your vision dancing with stars. You wait until the dizzy feeling passes before you reply. “Of course,” You say, finding it a bit ridiculous that she had to ask permission in her own place.

Not a moment after your thumbs-up, the door creaks open and a crack of light from the hallway floods the room, illuminating your friend��s sympathetic face. “How are you holding up?” She checks on you, entering the room fully. You see she brought a glass of water and a cookie on a plate.

You smile, genuinely touched by the sweet gesture. Claire makes her way to you and settles down on the bed; she brings her feet up so she can sit with her legs crossed. The mattress rocks slightly as she shifts to a more comfortable position, turning the bedside lamp on. You wince at the orange light.

She hands you the glass of water, which you gratefully take from her hold and sip from, and places the huge chocolate chip cookie towards your body. She looks almost expectant but you pretend not to notice; you really couldn’t bring yourself to eat.

Claire knew what was up though and, thankfully, she didn’t try to push it. It was always something you appreciated about her – she wasn’t overbearing, she didn’t try to impose or force anything. She just gives her 2 cents and leaves it to your better judgement; you respected that a lot.

“Still the same, unfortunately,” You crack a halfhearted chuckle, trying to sound better than you really felt. You look down and away from the sad look in Claire’s eyes, obviously seeing past the fabricated act. Wanting not to dwell in her scrutiny, you reach for the still warm cookie and break off a small chunk, bringing it to your mouth. It tasted heavenly – her food always did, but you couldn’t enjoy it.

“It’s good,” You comment with a nod, your eyes still anywhere but on the brunette girl in front of you. Of course, you were trying to evade the conversation that dealt with talking about how you were feeling.

You open your mouth, to apologize for being so detached, but her hand suddenly on your thigh catches you off-guard. You look at her to see her smiling. “How about we take a walk? Maybe visit the ice cream shop right before the curb? I’ve been wanting to check the place out,” She suggests with a thoughtful cock of her head, her dark brown hair swaying with her movements.

She leans in a bit, her knowing expression deepening as she gives your leg a pat. “And it’ll do you some good to get some fresh air.”

Claire had a point, you acknowledged. Although you didn’t want to, going outside would probably help distract from your stuffy thoughts, especially considering that you’ve been camped in this apartment almost the entire time you were here. You note that Claire probably blew her plans off just to accommodate you. This is the least you can grant her.

“Okay, yeah, let’s do it.” You crack a smile, shifting your weight so you could swing your legs off the bed. Claire, who looked a little surprised from your answer, blinks before a big grin appears on her face. She gets up as well, “Alright! Just let me get changed,” She says, gesturing to her olive-green baseball tee and black sweatpants.

You chuckle, nodding.

When the door closes behind her, you swap your pajamas as well for some leggings and a grey hoodie two sizes too big on your frame. Your hand moves its way to feel the letters of the police academy Leon attended bolded in the center; you didn’t realize you’ve packed it but now it’s the only thing you wanted to wear.

You let yourself. Considering you didn’t allow to talk or reach out to him, this will help you cope.

You sigh. You just couldn’t believe how complicated it’s gotten.

After taming your (H/C) hair into a ponytail and trudging out of your room, you enter the living space and the first thing that caught your eye was a small white envelope in front of the main door. It was most probably slipped in through the crack.

You walk towards it, your heartbeat picking up speed for a reason unknown to you. Crouching down to get a better look, you take it in your hands. It was plain until you turned it over.

A red kiss mark.

Your breath hitches – you knew point-blank exactly who this was from. No doubts, no second thoughts.

Why the fuck has she sent this? How did she know where you were? Did Leon tell her about your fight?

“Unbelievable,” You hissed under your ragged breath, clenching your fists. With your stomach churning, your eyes brim with tears as you angrily tear it open. Your chest felt so constricted, it was almost painful to breathe.

Hope you don’t mind that I told him your whereabouts. -A.W.

Just one sentence – just that one sentence was enough to get you bawling your eyes out. Even though it lacked reason for you to be this heavily affected, it was the mere fact that it meant Leon had reached out to Ada again. You visibly started to shake.

You’ve had enough of this shit.

“You ready to head ou-“ Claire’s smile falls the moment she saw your slumped and trembling figure by the door, her crystal blue eyes growing wide with worry. She practically runs over to you, dropping to her knees and draping an arm around your shoulders.

You were inconsolable, violent sobs rocking your body.

“(Y/N), what –“ Her sentence was left hanging in the air as she saw the poorly torn white envelope and letter in your hands. She cautiously takes it from your iron grip and reads what was written; her anger flares right away.

Before she had the chance to bust out her profanities, a loud series of knocks resonate from the door. Claire gets up and, because she was too overcome with ill feelings, didn’t bother to check the peephole. She swings the door open and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Leon Kennedy stood before her; his impossibly blue eyes were rid of any warmth – they looked exhausted, lidded and tired, and the dark bags under them seemed to weigh them down more. His body was stiff with tension, his usually groomed hair was in its messiest state she’d ever seen and, really, just his whole aura was thick with dread.

He was a mirror image of you.

If it weren’t for how angry and disappointed Claire was with him, she would have felt bad seeing him in his weary state. Claire always looked so highly of Leon; she saw how pure, sincere and brave his character was in light of the events they experienced in Raccoon City.

So, when she found out he was the man you were seeing? She approved of the relationship right off the bat, loving him for you. Claire knew, though, about the problem with the woman in red but she didn’t realize how bad it actually was to have this whole thing happen.

“You have a lot of nerve showing up here, Leon,” She scowls, chastising, crossing her arms over her chest. He looks down and takes the harshness of her words; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t expecting this to happen. “Can I please see her?” His voice was hoarse.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

“It’s okay, I want to talk to him.”

Claire twists around to look at you. Your eyes were hard on the man whose heart had just skipped after being unable to see you or hear your voice for nearly a week. He recognizes the hoodie you had on and the ache in his chest tripled.

Despite your own heart jumping, your fury overclouded any feeling of longing. The letter crumples under your hand.

Claire gives you an expression as if to ask ‘Are you sure?’ and you nod. With one last look at the crestfallen male, she turns on her heel and leaves the premise to give you both some privacy.

“(Y/N)-“ Leon starts, taking a step towards you. You backtrack harshly.

Couldn’t he take a hint?

“Where’s Ada?” You grit your teeth, trying to keep your melting composure together. So much for a proper greeting. “I’m surprised you’ve bothered to come here, or that you even thought of me at all.”

Leon’s already fallen face sinks further, your words deepening the terrible pain the last few days have imbedded in him. If you only knew what the man’s been through; he could barely function not knowing where you were or who you were with or how you were doing and it showed in his present state. Ada, or at least the interaction you assumed happened between them, never reached reality.

“(Y/N),” He sighs, arduous, running a palm down his slightly stubbled cheek. The fact that you were so near but he couldn’t hold you made the inside of his chest itch. “Please, stop being like that. I want to talk this out. Properly. I don’t want Ada to be in this conversation,” He says, unable to keep the frustration from appearing in his tone.

Your anger grows. “That’s rich coming from you, especially when you hired her as your personal investigator,” You bring your clenched hand up and finally show to him the letter. “Here-“ You nearly hiss, taking a step towards him so you could press it to his chest. “You can thank her for coming through, as always.”

Leon studies the paper and his eyebrows furrow immediately. He shakes his head, looking at you perplexed. “I haven’t spoken to her ever since-“ He pauses for a split second, his jaw clamping ever so slightly, “-ever since we fought. I don’t know how she knows anything, or how she knew I was trying to find you.”

Despite your rancorous feelings, your chest prickled. You weren’t very surprised, but it softened your hardened exterior to hear his efforts. He always prioritized you, but the reason why you were so unwilling to move on from this was because of how prioritized Ada was too.

Noticeably gentler than a few seconds ago though, you moisten your dry lips. You knew Leon was telling the truth not only because of his honest eyes, but because he was just an honest person, especially when it came to you. But you just couldn’t wrap your head around how Ada was able to find out about you and Leon’s current situation and how she tracked you down.

As if he could tell what was plaguing your train of thoughts, he offers an explanation. You don’t know, though, if it made you feel better. “Ada – she’s a mysterious woman.” He acknowledges, cautiously moving closer.

You stay where you are and it made him almost sigh in relief. If this proximity was all that the situation would allow, he’ll take it. “She has her ways, she has her own methods of knowing things.”

He shakes his head, “But enough about her. Please. I don’t want to talk about her – I want to talk about our relationship, because that’s what matters the most to me.” He says.

You remain silent because you want him to continue and because a lump was growing in your throat.

You know from years of knowing Leon that he wasn’t the type of person to be vocal with his affection; how he grew up rendered him to be kind of awkward when it came to his feelings, he always had a hard time talking about it in general. It became especially more difficult after Raccoon City and you never tried to pry or change that; so, the rare times he did verbalize about what was in his chest, it was so special for you.

Leon takes a deep inhale, running his calloused thumbs over his fingers. “I-I’ve taken you for granted. All these years, you never left me, not even when our lives got so complicated.” He closes his stinging eyes, feeling his chest grow heavy as memories of his past played through his head – all the people lost, all the places now in ruin, all the missions he’s taken that always scared you half to death with worry. They were scars he had to live with.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever cared for me the way you do. It’s something I was never really familiar with,” He falters for a moment, wanting to compose himself. You, on the other hand, already had tears falling down your cheeks. You knew he was talking about his family and his upbringing – it was such a sensitive topic for him and your heart ached.

“-but it gives me so much hope, you know? It gives me more reason to want to end this whole attack on humanity. It’s contagious, how selfless you are.” He sighs, shifting his gaze to the carpeted floor. “The reason why I’ve been talking to Ada again is because she has information regarding new B.O.Ws being created somewhere. It’s stupid – maybe I should have just told you but I never include or disclose to you anything in my line of work because I don’t want to risk your safety.”

“You make me a better person, (Y/N), the love that you share so generously – I could only wish to reciprocate it all back to you. I-I’m trying, and I’m sorry if you have to suffer my inability to but I-“

Leon fails his words, his beautiful blue eyes glassy with tears. You’ve only ever seen him cry once your whole life, when you reunited after Raccoon City.

Without a moment more, you dash forward and wrap your arms tightly around the vulnerable and visibly upset man. You press your head to his chest, your tears – at this point – coming down like a waterfall as you listen to the beat of his heart. The heart made of pure gold, the heart that you loved more than anything in this whole fucking world.

Leon overlaps your embrace, one hand cupping the back of your head and the other snaked around your waist ardently, like he was afraid you’d fall out of his grasp again.

He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering for a few moments before he closes his eyes, feeling like a thousand pounds just lifted off his shoulders. He was light-headed, the warmth of your touch he craved so much felt like paradise.

“I’m sorry too, I just- I got so hurt but I never should have left the way I did,” You sob, not caring how you looked like. “I love you, Leon, more than anything. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re lacking or that your baggage will ever be too heavy for me to carry with you. I’m not perfect either- I have my own shit, I have my own issues as well, but I know you’ll be there to help me out.”

You wipe at his eyes and he captures your hand, kissing it tenderly before intertwining his fingers with yours. “I promise I’ll be better,” He looks at you with commitment, his gaze unwavering and honest.

You smile, pledging to do the same. You trap his warm face in your palms and kiss him lovingly on the lips, your heart soaring. He deepens it.

You knew there were still going to be countless of bumps in the road ahead of you and Leon, some small, some big, and some worse or as worse as this but, no matter what, out of the billions of souls in this earth, it’s only him you’d ever love this way.

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slightlyobsessedwithstories · 4 years

Text

I Can't Believe It's Over

Summary: Steven watches his favorite series come to an end and talks to Connie about it.

Notes: Look it's fluff. That's it it's just some comfort that's still very much needed even if it has been over a week now. Also it's around 1800 words.

Steven was fixated on the screen before him, dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep. The first rays of sunlight shined through the window as one of multiple alarms rang.

'It's almost here! It's almost here!' he thought as he turned off almost all of the 10 alarms. It was the final episode of his favorite series, Crying Breakfast Friends!

Well, technically CBF! ended a few years ago and this was its epilogue series, but still, it was practically the sixth season of the show.

He usually woke up at this time, but he's been up all night, theorizing how Spilled Milk could solve all of their problems, especially with Glum Glass (who he shipped them with.)

He was just so excited that he stayed up all night. He kept floating anyway, so it's not like he could sleep on the ceiling. He was up all night, sharing his theories and headcanons while looking through some of the fanart that have come from the episode that was released last week.

He still couldn't believe it was the last episode, it's been running for years. He can still remember the first episode like it was yesterday.

One last alarm rang as he opened a streaming app that made him watch with fellow fans, whatever happens next he's sure it would be good.

An hour and many, many tears later, Connie was calling him for their bi-weekly breakfast together. However Steven was still in bed, a river of tears streaming down his face as the credits rolled.

He was literally crying over Spilled Milk, but that really isn't important right now.

He wiped his tears on the sleeves of his pajamas and went downstairs to wash his face. His eyes were still a bit puffy, but maybe Connie wouldn't notice.

Steven went back toward the bed, sinking a bit. He took a few deep breaths, and finally answered her call.

"Good morning, Steven!" Connie greeted. She was in a diner, judging by the tables and chairs behind her. It was close to full and people were having different conversations, but it wasn't too loud that he couldn't hear her.

"Morning, Connie," he yawned right after greeting her, hoping to mask his sadness with tiredness.

It didn't work. Connie has started to be concerned, "Steven? Are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fi—"

The universe has a cruel sense of irony, it seems. As he was only midsentence as he saw the glass of milk and the plate filled with fried eggs and crispy bacon and started to sob again.

"I-I can't believe it's over!"

He shuts his mouth, was that too loud? He covers his face with the pillows until he hears Connie talking. She's awkwardly explaining to the people around her; he wipes some of the tears with his sleeve while he apologizes for shouting.

Connie goes back to her seat, visibly relieved. Whether it's because she doesn't have to talk to another stranger or because she knows what's happening with him, it's unknown to him. Maybe it's a little bit of both.

She turns to Steven and asks one question with a knowing look in her eye, "Your favorite series just ended, didn't it?"

"Wait... how- how did you know?"

"I know how that feels," she ate some of her bacon and continued, "I've read so many novels, The Spirit Morph Saga was just one of many books I've obsessed for years!"

Steven listened to her every word as she gushes about some of her favorite books. It's been years since he heard of it, he still remembered Connie introducing him to the saga. He still loves the ending to this day, though he doesn't know if she still feels the same about the ending years later.

"Oh, sorry I got into a tangent there."

"It's okay, I love hearing you being so passionate."

There was a slight blush on her cheeks; she proceeded to drink the milk to hide it. "So..Anyways, what was the name of the series that just left you in tears today?"

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed, how exactly is he going to explain that he's been watching a cartoon for the past six years? He doesn't know what kind of shows she's watched!

But she wouldn't judge him for that, so might as well just say it, "It's Crying Breakfast Friends."

"I thought that show ended years ago?"

"Well, yes, but technically no, so the original show, Crying Breakfast Friends did end a few years ago, but its epilogue series, Bawling Brunch Friends ended today."

"So... were you satisfied with the ending?"

She was answered with more tears, "It was so bittersweet!"

Okay, now she needed to be there with him. "I'm going to finish up here, okay? I'll be there in a minute!"

Connie ended the call, finished her breakfast, tipped the waitress, and ran outside to Lion all under one minute.

A portal opened up in the beach house's living room with Connie and Lion going out from it.

"Thanks, Lion," she said while giving his mane a few pats. He gave a cute little smile and proceeded to sleep near the sofa.

Of course she had to give him some pets, besides it was only a few seconds till a full minute passes and she ran up the stairs.

She knows the feeling, sure she wasn't as sentimental when some of her favorite series ended, but she knows how empty it feels at first.

She wonders how Steven's handling it.

...

Just the sight of his bed tells it all.

It's a bit messy and tear-stained, the impression of Steven has been there for a while making the teen that was on the bed sink even further into it. Near the pillows were some toys and old plushies of the characters in the show, Steven himself holding two of them in his arms while under his comforter.

He was clutching the plushies of a carton of milk and a glass, keeping them close together. He hasn't noticed that she's here, but to be fair she hasn't spoken a word since she came up.

"Hi, Steven." He freezed up for a second, but he was still silent. "Mind if I join you in there?"

She saw his head nodding and making some space for her; she joined him under the covers.

He was looking at some fanart of all the characters together, waving goodbye at the audience as the words, "Thank you Samantha Pepper!" appear above them.

"So.. I remembered seeing a few episodes." Connie shifted closer to Steven, "It looked like a fun, silly cartoon from some of the episodes I've seen."

He chuckled at that, a bit too much judging by Connie's confused reaction.

"It was a fun, silly show at first. I rewatched the whole series preparing for this, and wow, there was a lot of stuff that went over my head."

"Just how serious this show is after the first season, all of the foreshadowing, each character's arc and how much they've changed compared to now!"

"I want to tell you everything, but at the same time I don't want to spoil stuff." Steven's started to float while he was talking and he hasn't noticed yet. "There's just so much that's better appreciated when it hasn't been spoiled and I haven't even talked about—"

"Steven, the ceiling!"

He looks up and floats in place, just inches away from hitting his head. "Thanks Connie." Steven starts to float down.

"No problem."

"Why didn't you stop me when I was starting to float?"

Now it's her turn to fluster him, she gave a shy smile and said, "Sorry Steven, I was distracted with how cute you are when you're passionate."

He was so flustered that his powers failed him at that moment and he fell on the bed, bouncing both him and Connie a few times.

They were both giggling as they laid together on the bed. Steven teasing Connie about using the line he used earlier... until they notice the mess that was made and cleaned it up.

"This show means a lot to you, huh?" she says as she collects the toys that fell onto the floor.

"Yeah... I miss it," Steven helps in collecting the plushies. He grabs the Spilled Milk and Glum Glass plushies and keeps them together.

They both help each other in fixing the comforter on the bed and laid back on it.

Connie can hear him sniffling right next ro her. Guess he's skipped the other stages of grief and went headfirst to depression.

"Why did it only sink in now? I'll never see these characters again!"

Okay, that's it. She needs to tell him this. She turns Steven around, looking him in the eyes.

"You can always rewatch the show, right?" A nod.

"You can always make your own fanart, right?" Another nod.

"And there's also other people's fan creations. Sure, the show's over, but people would still create more stories and art with these characters." Tears have stopped.

"You can love and appreciate all of the content creators in that fandom and their creations, right?" A small smile. She's getting to him.

"And even if it's over, you know that the show would always be with you, right?"

"Connie, I thought you didn't like being saccharine?"

"Steeeven," she was teasing him, and she knows he is too, "I'm trying to comfort you."

"I know, just wanted to hear you say it, because you like me." They were giggling again, but when they were finished he was staring at her with a smile, "Thanks Connie."

"You know I'll always help you, Steven," she smiled back at him.

"Yeah, even with your college prep, you still—"

"Wait, don't you have more stuff to do?" Steven asked, looking a bit worried.

"Today's Saturday, Steven." Connie reminded him.

"Oh... yeah," he rubbed his eyes, "thought it was still Friday."

"You stayed up all night, didn't you?"

"Can't blame me for being excited, besides I'm not that tired."

A yawn escapes him at the end and he settles at the bed.

"Ok maybe I'm a little bit tired. Talk to you later?"

"You know the usual time," she gives him a kiss on the forehead, "see you later, Steven."

"I'll see you soon, Connie."

And she goes down to Lion, who just woke up.

As Steven hears the roar of Lion's portal go out, he opens his phone and looks back on the picture of everyone in the show again.

Connie's right, it's a part of him now. Every memory, every laugh, and especially every tear that's shed—of sorrow and of joy.

"Thanks for giving me tears to the very end."

#steven universe #connie maheswaran #su fics #connverse #what do you mean it's only been a week?#it's over isn't it is playing in the background #what do you mean I'm projecting onto these characters

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trulisthetic · 4 years

Photo

Hey you.

So yesterday I found the folder of pics from Samos. And today I dug up a few more, and this post happened. Not that it’s something big. I wish I could give you a real present today.

Anyway.

It took me forever to decide what to write on this post, I mean 1) we’ve been through some crazy crap and 2) I didn’t know what was appropriate for a facebook post cause your parents might see it or something. But then I decided to post this here so that we would be among strangers, and my hands were untied. Quite literally untied, because it means that I have to write this in English, and you know how much better I can express myself this way. Unfortunately, I get extra extra when I speak in English. So be prepared, this is about to get real sappy real quick.

You are my sunshine. (Yup. I meant REAL sappy, REAL quick.) But dude, you ARE. Every time we’re in the same room, it’s like I instantly light up, like I turn into the most dorky and quirky version of me. It’s just so fun, so honestly fun. I don’t wanna say that you’re the most optimistic person, cause sometimes you’re not, but despite that -and I don’t know how to explain this exactly- but you make everything seem more happy, and more fun, and infinite times more colorful, and I honestly have no idea how you do it, but it just happens. And for some reason it makes sense, too. Like, of course you would make everything brighter. It’s you.

One of my earliest memories of you is us walking our dogs together at the park and being so awkward around each other. And then we had our first sleepover and I remember snuggling against you and squealing in delight that we went passed the awkward stage, and you asked Erik “Is she usually like this?” and he was like “Yup”. I remember us acting together, and how funny it was to see you on stage wearing my stockings and OMG when I forgot my lines during our scene and we laughed our way through it! Or when I kissed you at rehearsal and you set it was wet - which by the way, it wasn’t. You’re just too gay for this world, so suck it (that’s what she said! Hehehe). And all those times we improved together, my personal favorites being the sheep-shepherd one, and the Pier-Chloe one (“I’M GAY!” XDXD ). I also had so much fun that time we went out at the school dance and got lots of different drinks to try, and then danced all night- and I don’t know if you remember this but you stepped on me and said “Oh my God, honey, I’m so sorry!” and then literally bent down to hug my waist. Which was like, the softest thing I’ve experienced.... and then you fell asleep on my shoulder at the buss stop, and it became the second softest. You’re such a precious being. Bonus moments, New Years Eve that one time was pretty great, or the afterparty of Jordan at Pezodromos. Also when you guys surprised me for my birthday, both times (with the picture frames, and the guinea pig. best presents ever). And that time you got me that purple candle just because “you saw it and it reminded you of me”. And that time we went to that gay club with the bananas everywhere. And that time we dressed up sexy and instead of going out we sat inside and drank vodka and watched gay porn... and then Adam recorded the entire phonecall of you getting home (tell me we still have that!) and I slept over and hit on her. Such fun. And while we’re on the subject, you know what I realized the other day? That you are a gay guy and I am a straight girl - and yet we have kissed each other, and I have also kissed your ex girlfriend. So that’s also fun.

Your birthday last year was the BEST, coolest ever. Even though I don’t remember, like, half of it. I’m sorry I don’t remember you blowing the candles. I’m also sorry that I put vodka in your dorky friend’s wine, and that I -apparently- smudged chocolate cake on your door... and nothing else. I also loved that time we won two stuffed animals playing the claw and were so elated about it. And all the times we just cuddled on the couch and watched shitty stuff, and you played with me or Adam’s hair. That time we ate oregano chips and played charades of the movies we watched together and stuff... or when we were all bawling our eyes out at Leonardo DiCaprio drowning. All the times we played Pes To Me at the park, all the times we went out and ate together, or I cooked my crappy toasts for you. Samos. All of it. Even though thinking about Erik now makes me sad, Samos is where I really got to know you best, and I’m forever grateful for that. Remember that sunset on the picture above? How I wanted to stay on the port and watch it, but you wanted to go back because there was a hot guy with a skateboard? Well, you asshole, I could care less about the sun or the colors of the sky. I just wanted to stay there for as long as I could, because it was just us, the waves, your favorite music playing, my head on your lap and your fingers in my hair. Which I realize sounds pretty romantic, but you get how I mean it. It was me and you. And I think that is my favorite memory with you, believe it or not. That sunset you couldn’t wait to run away from 😂😂

There are times... that you don’t speak that highly of yourself. You say you’re not smart enough, or not pretty enough, or not funny enough, never enough. I don’t know what this “enough” means. All I know is that my life would be way darker without you. I’d have missed so damn much. And this past year that we don’t hang out as much, I still have all those memories to recall and be thankful for, you know? And then, everyday stuff happens and I find myself thinking “Oh, he would love that” or “he does that too”. You’re kinda still with me. So as far as I’m concerned, you’re still my best friend.

Still. I miss having fun with you. And I miss you.

So, happy, happy, HAPPY birthday!

Η αλήθεια είναι ότι όταν ενθουσιάζομαι λέω σε πολλούς ότι τους αγαπάω. Αλλά εσύ είσαι από τους λίγους που το εννοώ.

#thank you for everything

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ravenlilith-02 · 5 years

Text

Losing You Was Blue

This is my first attempt at a Zutara fic :D

So I found this list of prompts and I thought I’d write a little fic cuz it’s been over a decade and I am still bitter about Zutara not happening. I chose prompt 3 and 18 :D

It’s really sweet and not that much smut. I just really wanted to explore the soft, emotional side of Zuko and the strong, independent side of Katara.

——————————————————————————

The Gaang has been camping out somewhere in the South of the Earth Kingdom for the past few days. They all slept in separate tents — well, except for Sokka and Suki, though (thankfully) their shared tent is strategically located slightly farther way from everyone else — but in the middle of the night, when everyone is asleep, Katara would tip-toe her way carefully into another tent. She’ll silently crawl next to him while he’s asleep, and no matter how tired he is, he always manages to muster a little consciousness to wrap his hand around her and pull her in. Zuko lightly caresses her head and feels his nails scratch her hair as she sighs softly. He was thinking about the time he first joined the Avatar. Sokka showed him to his room and as he was looking at a photo of his uncle, reminiscing the younger him fresh from his abandonment, he catches Katara standing by his door with a stern expression on her face.

“Give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you don’t have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I’ll make sure it ends then and there. Permanently,” she said. He turned his head to look at the girl sleeping next to him right now, and can’t help but chuckle, they’ve come a long way. None of their friends know about them yet — maybe Toph — and he hasn’t been thinking about how to explain this to them, especially to Sokka. Katara is his baby sister, after all. But he chose to push that thought to the side, all he cared about right now was Katara sleeping soundly next to him.

“Zuko?” she whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear her.

“Oh you’re awake? Yeah, what’s up?” he asked as she shifted her position to sit up. Even though they were only half-open, he couldn’t help but stare into her cerulean eyes. They were mesmerizing, and they were the first thing he saw of her when he “saved her from the pirates”.

“How long are we going to keep this up?” she asked him. It was as if she could read his mind. He tried to act like he didn’t understand.

“Keep what up?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Zuko. This, you and I. Sooner or later we’re going to have to let them know. And honestly, I think Toph already does with her stupid micro-hearing abilities,” she finished with a chuckle.

“You might be right. I mean, you’re not exactly what I would call silent either,” Zuko replied with a smirk. He looked at Katara’s face and saw her blush as she punched him in the arm. Flashbacks of them on the night after they confronted Yon Rha came back to her mind. The feeling of his hands on her waist, his warm breath tickling the skin of her neck, his lips against hers kissing passionately, and the growing bulge in his trousers that she could feel gradually poking her... Katara is no stranger to the male touch; she spent days and nights in Jet’s treehouse. But nothing could’ve prepared her for Zuko’s intensity. His inner fire engulfed them both as they lost themselves in each other. Her feelings for him developed from pity, to hatred, to confusion, to deep love. She tried, again and again, to push him away, only to realize her efforts were all in vain.

“We’ll tell them when the time is right, and for what I know, it probably isn’t right now. We all need to stay focused, Sozin’s comet isn’t changing its course any time soon.” Zuko said. In reality, he was just slightly afraid to tell the group because in his mind, so many things could go wrong. Their friends might not approve. Even worse, Katara could leave him... For what reason, he doesn’t know. But he’s seen so many people he loved leave him that at this point he’s just afraid for no reason.

“Now let’s get some rest, we need to get up earlier than everyone so they don’t see us coming out of the same tent,”

Katara nodded and slid back lower then rested her head on Zuko’s arm. He smelled of tea and smoke, but somehow that felt like home to Katara. She wrapped her arm around his body and felt his steady breathing as her mind drifted off into a dream where she was wearing a crimson robe and a pair of strong hands were gently placing her onto red silk sheets.

The next day, the group decided to head to the marketplace for food and a little shopping (Sokka’s suggestion). Katara wanted them to all stay together so no one gets lost.

“Katara, we all want to do different things. Stop being such a mom, have a little fun!” Sokka whined. He clearly just wanted some alone time with Suki, she thought.

“Yeah Katara, don’t ruin the party with your motherness,” Toph added, arms crossed. Katara sighed and gave in. They split up to do their own thing and Zuko casually suggested that he’ll go with Katara. Surprisingly no one gave much thought about it, but Toph smiled suggestively and told them to have fun before walking away together with Aang.

“Yep, she definitely knows,” Zuko murmured. He looked at Katara and couldn’t help but laugh as her cheeks turned bright red. “C’mon, let’s just go,” he urged while pulling Katara by the wrist.

They weaved through the crowd hand in hand. Katara was still bitter about the group calling her motherly as if it was a bad thing. She knew how to have fun! Plus she was just looking out for them. Then she wondered if Zuko thought of her the same way Toph and Sokka did. I’ll show them, I’ll show all of them how badass I can be, she thought.

Zuko spotted a stall that sold fire flakes and meat skewers. He suddenly remembered that Katara had never tried his favorite snack.

“Wait here, I’m gonna go get something,” he told her as he made his way to the snack stall. Unfortunately, he got there one step too late as the vendor said the couple before him had already bought the last two bags. He turned to the boyfriend and asked if he would sell him a bag.

The man snorted. “Better luck next time, scarface,” he said. That stung deep in his heart, but it also enraged Zuko. He was about to throw a fire punch at him, but he remembered Katara was watching, so he tried to control his anger. His expression flattened as he walked back to Katara to tell her what had happened. Katara’s eyes lit up with a brilliant idea in mind.

“Zuko, I got an idea,” she said to him. He slowed down and gave her a curious look to urge her to continue.

“I saw that couple, they were fighting about something. And I think I can find a way to get the guy back,” she went on to explain her plan from start to finish, which didn’t take long since, unlike Zuko, she had no problem with words.

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had,” Zuko slapped his palm against his face, covering his expression. Katara was disappointed because she was so eager to carry it out at first. But as Zuko lowered his hand, she caught his mischievous smirk and his eyebrow raised. “Of course I’m in,” he finished.

They hid behind the corner and watched the couple quarrel and bicker. Then, Katara stomped out towards the two as Zuko silently watched.

The man saw her approach with a confused expression on his face. “Who in the hell—” He was cut off by Katara’s swift hand to his face. She hit him so hard, she felt a stinging sensation in her own palm. Fake tears started trickling down her face.

“You coward!! How could you do this to me?!” she yelled at the man. “I loved you, and you leave me, for HER?!”

“L-lady, I don’t know who y-you are!!” he stammered. His girlfriend glared at him with fire in her eyes. This is working, Katara thought.

“You don’t remember me? YOU DON’T REMEMBER ME?! We were in love, Yong! I even have your baby in me-” she bawled while rubbing her stomach.

How did she know his name? Zuko wondered from behind the corner.

“You listen here, I-” his words were again cut off by a slap to the face. This time by his own girlfriend. “You disgusting scum of a man, I can’t believe you! We are over! Now get out of my sight!!” she all but screamed. He ran away, completely and utterly confused. Katara was still crying on the outside, but in her mind she was jumping for joy. She had won. She ran back around the corner to meet her boyfriend, still covering her face. She stopped crying and was now laughing, but she couldn’t expose herself.

“Katara I cannot believe you just did that!” Zuko said as she landed into his arms. “You didn’t have to do that for me”

“No, I didn’t,” she couldn’t suppress her laughter. “But didn’t it feel good, seeing that douchebag get slapped not once, BUT TWICE, and have his girlfriend leave him?”

It was Zuko’s turn to laugh. “I mean, yeah. It really did.” Agni, I will marry this woman one day even if it ends me, he thought. “How did you know his name was Yong?” he asked.

“I didn’t. I-” Zuko nudged her side with his elbow before she could explain herself. She sees the girlfriend walk towards them. Oh, shit.

“Hey, I’m so sorry for what happened to you with him. I can’t believe he just left you. I know you must probably hate me, but I just feel responsible somehow. I’m so so sorry...” the young lady was holding back tears. “I mean, how much more of a piece of shit can he be? He didn’t even tell you his real name! And he left you with a child? I thought I’ve seen the worst of him but I never thought...” Zuko and Katara exchanged a quick glance, Zuko swallowed nervously.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault at all.” Katara consoled while wiping her tears from her face. Her motherly instincts kicking in, yet again. Dammit, Katara. You were doing so well!

“I know you,” the lady said as she saw Zuko. “You wanted to buy the fire flakes from us just now. I’m so sorry my boyf-, ex-boyfriend insulted you like that.”

“Yeah, uh, it’s fine, it’s nothing. I just wanted to get them for- my girlfriend,” he said as he brought Katara closer. He realized that was the first time he referred to Katara as his girlfriend to someone else. It felt odd, but he’d have to get used to it.

“Here, take it. As my way of saying sorry to both of you.” she handed Zuko the bag, got up and smiled then walked away.

“Well that was unexpected,” Katara said, stunned.

“Yeah, no kidding. But hey, I mean, we got fire flakes I guess?” he replied, holding up the paper bag. Katara then remembered what he said just now in the heat of the moment. She’ll drill him on it later. They made their way to a tree with no one nearby and sat there eating snacks. Her head on his shoulder.

“So... Zuko... about what you said back there,” Katara’s voice trailed off. Zuko felt his pulse spike. “Girlfriend, huh?”

“Well, I- uh-, I was just, um, trying to keep up the act. I didn’t want our cover being blown or anything,” Zuko turned his head away, he felt his face burning. Katara’s expression dropped. “Oh, so you weren’t being serious?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“What? I- NO, I meant it! I just- well-” he really was not good with words. He stopped, took a deep breath, and continued. “I mean, Katara. Yes I meant what I said, I’ve liked you a lot for a while now. And I really want you to be my girlfriend but I guess I was just too nervous to ask before. But what I said just now, it wasn’t just for show. I’m so in love with you Katara, I just can’t-” Katara pressed her lips against his and cupped his jaw with her hand. When they finally broke away, he stared into those deep blue eyes again, getting lost in them, in her.

“Zuko, I never thought our relationship would come to this, but I’m so glad it did, because now whenever I think about my future, about how my life would be like after this war, I can’t see it without you being a part of it.” His vision started to turn misty as he noticed that he was tearing up. He cannot afford to lose her, he’s lost too much and if she leaves then he’d shatter. He leaned in to kiss her again, his lips trailed from her mouth to her jawline, to her ear.

“Please don’t leave me, Katara. I can’t lose you, I need you with me,” his voice trembling. Katara ran her hand up the nape of his neck, then kissed his forehead.

“I won’t leave you, Zuko. After all that we’ve been through, I promise I’ll be with you till the day the moon never rises again,” she reassured. He rested his head in her neck and his body slowly stopped shaking. He breathed in deeply, she smells so good, like lilies and cedarwood. When he finally lifted his face to meet hers, she couldn’t help but marvel at how perfect this man was. This version of Zuko, is the Zuko that no one gets to see; the Zuko that hasn’t had his heart ripped out over and over again by people he loved; the Zuko that wanted nothing more than to love, and to be loved. She ran her thumb gently over his scar, she could almost feel his pain. And, as if instinctual, he moved his face away, like he was ashamed of his scar, like he was waiting to see the look of disgust on her face, even a glimpse of it. But it never came. Her warm smile never faltered.

“You’re beautiful, Zuko. You’re perfect. With all your flaws and your wisdom from all the battles you’ve faced. The Gods have blessed me with you and I’ll never let go.” she said softly, still admiring every inch of him.

“I never thought you’d forgive me after what happened in Ba Sing Se. Every day I look at you and I don’t even think I deserve someone like you,” he said with his head down. “But I just feel so at ease with you. I don’t have to be anyone I’m not, because I know you don’t judge me. You have such a kind heart, Katara.” she felt tears welling in her eyes as she pulled him in for a tight hug. “I love you, Zuko” she whispered. And they both sat there for God knows how long, in each other’s embrace, while the sun set over the horizon.

“I guess this is the time to tell the group about us?” Katara suggested. He thought about how that would go down, how each of them would react. He thought about the worst possible outcome of Katara leaving him if her friends disapproved, but one look at her and he knew that was not going to happen.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he replied, smiling down at the beautiful Water Tribe warrior next to him, picturing her in a stunning Fire Nation gown.

#prince zuko #zutara #avatar #avatar the last airbender #katara #fanfic #zutara week

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honestsycrets · 5 years

Text

Wolf Slayer || 5CW

❛ request | You and hvitty get into this huge fight case he’s pissed over everything in Kattegat, you try to comfort him but he snaps at you, so you snap back, it go back and forth, insecurities are fueling it all. He thinks you deserve someone better (more fame, etc), you think he deserves someone prettier/thinner. He storms out, you’re both hurt, he comes back later to you in bed and starts kissing you like that thora scene, there’s apologies and cuddles + labour

❛ word count | 2091

❛ genre | fluff and angst

❛ summary | hvitserk and reader fight over silly things. he decides to walk out on her at the worst of times

❛ warnings | fighting, angry!hvitty

There were a few things not to tell a pregnant woman. The first was… no. The second was to disown her. For Hvitserk, he had done both earlier that evening. Not his brightest moment but in his defense, you had asked something of him that he could not refuse. So he took off without another word. He brews over the statue that was brought up in the name of his definitely mortal brother and drank of a rich mead that he definitely could not afford to be drinking right now. It helps wash away all the events from earlier that day.

“He’s telling me to leave! Can you believe it?” It had been a long day. One of those days that even his Buddha and the sweetness of meditation could not take the edge off of. Ivar went on about his Freyja like wife, insinuating that his wife was less than.

Maybe that was what had been such a fight for him with Ivar. The deadpan mark of seriousness was not only because his beautiful, pregnant wife was not also once Ivar’s, but because he knew how sensitive you were about your body. You were thicker than she, sure, but god you were gorgeous. The way your breasts swelled during the pregnancy timed along with Freydis’s? Divine. Your hips were fuller than before, something he enjoyed when men looked at you with longing from behind.

Freydis had her beauty and you yours. But what she did not have was loyalty. He knew that the child was not his brother’s as did you.

“Do what he wants. If I learned anything with Ivar, he comes and goes on his passions.” You were sewing at the large loom of this new, small home that Ivar allowed him. It was beginning to get cramped-- sign of Hvitserk’s failure to provide to the level he would have liked.

While Freydis had a large house and a name that was sung beside Bjorn, Ubbe and Ivar’s, his was not. No one knew the name Hvitserk as one of the Ragnarssons. That was largely information he failed to impart upon strangers. Now as you came to your side with a belly full of his child, slipping behind his back, he knew he had failed. You stroked his cheek and rran your lips over his neck as if to calm him.

“Leave all of Kattegat to him!? Do you see what he is doing?” He hisses in the heat of the moment. Shoving himself up, he brings his hands in the air behind his head. You blink rapidly-- unsure of what exactly he was attempting to get at.

“You are overreacting.” You smooth your hands over his son in your stomach. “What is hidden always comes to light, Hvitserk. They will find out that he is not a god and that the child is not his son. What do you get by fighting with him?”

Satisfaction in knocking him down and of getting something over him for what he had done. You were a gorgeous woman but as of late, Kattegat held Freydis up to the standard of beauty. No matter that her face was not as gorgeous as yours.

“You don’t know how he compares the two of you.” Hvitserk sets his hand on top of his belt. Oh-- you knew. You knew more than anyone what was going on. Your smile picks up in depth, biting back the hurt of this statement.

“Well, he did fall out of love with me for her, Hvitserk… it… its natural that he would want someone prettier. Just like you should.”

Your voice was pained. Almost as if you missed being Ivar’s little lover before Freydis came along. You could have. He was a king after all. Women loved kings. The women and men that admired his father was insatiable. He hones in on the statement, swiping up the mead that was saved for a special occasion between man and his wife.

“She’s not prettier than you. She’s just spoiled.” He says. “Since he is king.”

The words are with a hateful sneer behind them. You never thought he wanted to be king, but, he expected more out of himself. If not for him— but for his family. You set your hand to your stomach, stroking your round belly.

“He loves her.” You respond. It’s the last thing he could take. After all, after all this time all he wanted to do was show how much he loved you. How beautiful and bright you were to him compared to someone like her. Then you would negate his words of beauty and agree with him in the fact that she was well off?

Or that Ivar somehow loved her more than Hvitserk loved you?

“If you like him so much,” He swigs a drink. “Go try and be his bed slave. See if he wants you back.”

Why did he have to say that?

Why didn’t he just sweep up this bottle and leave the room? By now, he was pretty well plastered. It was just… he didn’t understand. How could you just not care about the way that Kattegat was being treated?

This was his home. This was your home. This would have been little Askold’s home too. Right, his son. His son was due soon. For him, he had to be more of a man like his father and less of a man that would roll over! He was a Ragnarsson-- it was time to act like it. Maybe that was the booze talking early into the next morning though.

Before long night had become morning. He watches the sunrise over the buildings and Kattegat’s square yet again populate with the commoners, merchants and farmers coming to sell their stock. Now that his booze had died down, he took himself to the door of his home. It was undisturbed.

“(Y/N)?” He presses into the home. Not even a peep from you, a lump inside your sheets. He thought that perhaps you might have gone to do laundry or gotten up to make him a hot porridge with pears on top like he so liked. The reality of the situation was that you were still bundled up in blankets and his fur in his bed.

With no response, Hvitserk assumes you must have bawled yourself into an early bedtime last night. He never knew you to be an overly emotional woman, but hell, being honest with himself meant knowing that sometimes you cried when he made you. So he cautions on the safe side of approaching you.

A gentle kiss to your ankles.

You shift, but don’t kick him off. It’s a start. He glides across your body, peppering up your side in the gentlest of kisses. Over the round of your hips, round with the time coming to birth his son fast in its approach. A woman was never as beautiful as when she was with child. His peppering kisses lead him up over your arms to your shoulder, carefully easing himself over your neck.

“I know you’re awake.” He cooes in your ear, pressing his body flush against your back. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I should not have said those things… but it angers me when he speaks of you.”

You shift your shoulder up, knocking him away from the side of your neck. Hvitserk settles behind you and settles his hand upon your stomach. Your breathing deepens. Ha! He knew you were awake.

“I’d never reject you, (Y/N). You know that.” Hvitserk strikes nothing yet again. This time his patience doesn’t last. “Babe, I’m trying to be sincere here and it’d be nice if you would answer me.”

Oh you answered him alright, grabbing his hair and yanking him back off your neck with purpose. A choked out cry slips from his lips when you snarl out. “Would you shut up?” You finally hiss in a breathy little cry. Your eyes screw shut hard. “I’m trying to breathe.”

“Breathe?” He chirps.

“Breathe, you ass!” You hiss. It was abusive but in your state, he grew used to it. “And you keep distracting me with kisses.”

Yeah, naturally that was what he was here for.

“What is so hard about breathing?” He asks. It hasn’t clicked yet but a pained set of grunts that bounce off your lips later, it all comes together. Your short lived cries and the pain that is evident by your tense… really tense body.

Oh shit.

“You’re… going to give birth?” Hvitserk asks. “Why didn’t you get me?!” ”

It probably had to do with the fact that your body felt like it was ripping itself open and you had no idea what labour felt like. Hvitserk shifts off of the bed, coming around the side to crouch in front of you.

“You were mad.” You say. “So I figured I should have gotten Ivar instead.”

“I didn’t mean that!” You’re still visibly pouting when Hvitserk tugs you in, kissing along your delicate neckline in some mock apology. Usually you love those sweet, angelic little kisses that made your tummy flutter. I’m sorry, he whispers a hundred times over.

“Go get a midwife.” You command.

Hvitserk in all his wit decides that’s the best time to tilt his head at you. His skin is adorably lit up by the fire you barely had the drive to stoke with your child tearing within your body. You look at his soft green eyes, the softness of his cheeks and honey brown fuzz.

“How can I leave you alone? What if you tear something?” He says innocently, almost a whisper. It’s a pure tease and you know it. On top of saying such things earlier, now he thinks it is the time to mess with you? You don’t even believe it!

“If you do not go get my midwife, I will tear you like Fenrir will tear apart the sun!” You lurch up, standing up so quickly that you shake in pure agony as another contraction rips towards you. Your ever knowledgeable-- or perhaps not so much-- husband cringes as you squeak along the furs over the ground.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N) wait!” Hvitserk bobs off the bed, braids slapping his back. “I was not serious.”

“Well I am!” You breach the open door way cradling your belly in your hands. “You’re a man, you cannot even come to understand the pain of birth. But I thought my husband would be at least supportive during this!”

Another contraction and again you doubt over, grasping the nearest wooden siding of a house. Hvitserk grasps your arm to tug you back, slipping his arms under your leg and back to pluck you back up.

“I will handle it!”

Hvitserk walks in to the home, placing you on the middle of the bed. Then calling the midwives-- the real pushing began. Apparently you were ripe for pushing… which, as a man, made him feel even more worthless. Your words should have carried on his ear more carefully.

“And pusssh…” The midwife’s sweet, silken voice urges you on. Hvitserk stands some feet away while you lay upon the bed stripped clean of any sheets. Just the wooden board and you, shoving for all your life to press his son out.

Oh god, his son.

His daughter.

His child!

“Good.” The midwife says, looking to Hvitserk who warms a pitcher of ale. He glances, up, swallowing hard and keeps himself as quiet as a mouse. That fiery mood stills itself after another few contractions when he hears the soft cries of a child breaching through the cabin once empty of children.

“Prince Hvitserk.” She says. “Your son is here.”

He exhales air abandoning his drink to come closer. Hvitserk watches carefully as the midwife cleans his child, the cord still connected to him for some time longer before that too is snapped. She goes to delivering the afterbirth while you hold your child on your chest, caressing his soft cheek. Hvitserk is almost shy to come touch his first born at first.

“Should we still call him Askold?” You ask.

“Víðarr.” Hvitserk doesn’t lose beat. He scans his eye over your bump. “He conquered your mood. He is the reason I’m alive!”

Although its nothing more but a little tease that has you laughing, even as the midwife shoves her palm on your sore womb, you agree. Hvitserk comes beside you, kneeling so that he can run his knuckle against the little boy’s button nose.

“Welcome to Midgard, little wolf-slayer.”

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke@arses21434, @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24

#vikings imagines #hvitserk imagines #hvitserk x reader #hvitty imagines #hvitty/reader #hvitserk's heathen feast #5cw: Hvitserk #vikings/reader #hvitserk imagine

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j-j-ehlby-writes · 5 years

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Fate (c.e.) (1/6)

Chapter One- Coincidence

Pairing: Professor!Chris Evans x Student!OFC

Word count: 5.4k

Summary: fate (noun): the development of events beyond a person's control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power. (verb): be destined to happen, turn out, or act in a particular way.

Amara is about to start her senior year of college with her newly single best friend, Elizabeth. She goes out one night and meets a handsome stranger, Chris. Sparks fly. Fast forward a week and she finds out Chris is her professor. What happens when she also meets Sebastian, a cute guy from another one of her classes?

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“Do you really have to go out tonight? I was hoping we could watch The Notebook and The Last Song again while shoving tons of junk food in our mouths while I bawl my eyes out at how my perfect love story couldn’t be like Ronnie’s and Will’s or Allie’s and Noah’s.” My poor, heartbroken best friend, Elizabeth complains while watching me straighten my hair.

“We’ve been binge-watching Nicholas Sparks movies for the past three days. I need to rejoin civilization, even if you’re not ready to.” I run the straightener down the last chunk of hair before shutting it off and setting it back down in my bathroom sink. I love her to death and I’ve been as supportive as I possibly can through this break-up, but there’s only so much Nicholas Sparks and junk food that a girl can take before she goes nuts.

“But, I’m shattered.” She whines, leaning against the doorway.

“I know, which is why I’m not forcing you to go out with me. You take as much time as you need to recover. Just remember, we start our senior year of college in a week.” I pat the top of her extremely messy bun and continued applying my liquid foundation.

She sulks, “You’re no fun,” before finally leaving me in peace.

I finish with my foundation before moving to my eyebrows. I fill them in with a deep brown eye shadow to shape my heart-shaped face. I apply a shimmer, cream colored eye shadow to my eyelids to make them pop. I use black eyeliner to draw on my top lid. Last, but not least, I added mascara on my top lashes. I spritz some body spray all over for the finishing touch. I double-check my appearance in the full-length mirror on the back of my door. With a nod of satisfaction, I’m finally ready to go.

“Damn, you look hot Rems. You could turn a gay man, straight.” Elizabeth bellows from the couch, covered in numerous blankets and pillows, already snacking on another pint of ice cream. I feel bad leaving her after her asshole of an ex broke up with her after four years together over text message. Oh, the ass-kicking I wanted to deliver to his doorstep… They started dating in high school, went through the long-distance thing while we went away for school and he stayed in our hometown, and beat the odds until recently when all they’ve been doing is fighting. As her best friend since ninth grade, after our common ex screwed her over, thus us becoming friends, I heard all about it. I was starting to think that maybe they weren’t meant for each other and so were they. It technically was a mutual break-up because they both agreed that their relationship wasn’t working anymore, but he instigated it. Therefore, it’s his fault my best friend has been wallowing in self-pity on the couch in our living room for the past seventy-two hours. You can see why I need a break.

I wink her way while slipping my cross-bodied purse over my shoulder. “That was the plan!” I lean over the back of the couch, placing a quick smooch on her cheek. “Call me if you need anything.” Her shaking her head is the last thing I saw before I shut the door. Freedom at last.

I descend the three flights of stairs to the underground garage where my car sits. I climb in and am on my way to my favorite little bar in town. It‘s a Wednesday night so I knew I could escape there without having to be bothered by too many people. I just needed a getaway. I pull into the parking lot moments later and walk in. The bartender knows me because Lizzie and I have worked here since we started school. I find my seat at the bar and my favorite drink is there waiting for me. I chug it down before slamming the glass back on the bar.

“Bad day?” Robert, the bartender and owner, asks already making another one. He’s owned this place for longer than I’ve been alive. He’s almost like a second dad to both Lizzie and me. Without the over-protectiveness and judgmental attitude. And he’s not like other people his age. He likes today’s music, but nothing pop or rap. If anybody blares that “nonsense” in his bar, they are out. He’s more of the rock and alternative type, which he plays in the bar a.k.a. one of the main reasons I come here.

“Bad week. Liz and Robbie broke up on Sunday.” That was all I needed to say for him to have my favorite food ordered. I look around the bar, not surprised to see only handful of people at the tables. Wednesday is a slow night, which is the way I like it. I can hear the music over the speakers better that way instead of everybody’s constant, loud chatter.

I decide to go easy on my second drink now that I got the first one out of the way. I don’t want to get hammered tonight. That isn’t the reason for this outing. I check my phone to see if Lizzie sent me anything only to find nothing, thankfully. I put it back in my purse just as my food is placed in front of me. Deep-fried green beans with ranch dressing and a bacon cheeseburger with pickles, ketchup, and crunchy peanut butter. The chef here calls it the Skippy burger for obvious reasons. It’s the most amazing burger I’ve ever tasted. I will never order anything else from here, ever.

Well after I had inhaled my food like the lady that I am, I continue to sit at the bar and listen to the music. I take out a small notebook from my purse and continue writing in a book I was writing. I also like coming here because it’s a great place to get my creative juices flowing. It’s basically what I would be doing at my own apartment, the music is just louder and there’s more people around. I was just pausing to think of what to write next, when someone speaks to me.

“Whatchya writin’?”

I look to see who that deep, baritone voice came from. To my right is probably the most beautiful man I had ever seen sitting a couple seats down from me. His golden brown hair is slicked back. His eyes are a light color, but he’s too far away to decipher exactly what color they were. He’s fair skinned and not a blemish in site. He’s smirking at me with beautiful full lips and straight white teeth. He has facial hair, which I normally find revolting, that was hiding an incredible jawline, only added to his sexy factor. And that’s only his face. He’s built. His torso is long and defined. He has broad, muscular shoulders that stretched his poor t-shirt he wore. His arms are thick, too. He could easily bench me more than enough times- and I’m not small by any means. His biceps make the sleeves of his white, short sleeve, V-neck stretch just enough to show how big they truly were. From what I could tell, he looks to be tall- one of his feet is resting easily on the floor while sitting at the bar stool. I can’t touch the floor if I tried. He’s just gorgeous. Plain and simple. And he’s talking to me.

“I’m sorry for prying. You were so intensely writing, I had to ask.” He sends me an apologetic smile which nearly knocked me off this stool. Dear Lord…

Do I be snarky and say mind your own damn business? Or do I tell him the truth about what I’m writing? He seems like a decent guy just from the few sentences he’s thrown my way. And he’s hot. Way too hot to be a bitch to.

“Just jotting down all of the ways I could kill every single person in the bar and make it look like an accident.” So, I decide to go the sarcastic route. At least I had hoped that I came across as cynical and not sound like a total lunatic that needs to be committed. According to the sweet sound of his laughter, I was successful.

“Oh yeah? What are some of those ways?” He inquires, angling his body more towards me preparing for my answer.

I fake a gasp, pressing my notebook to my chest, hiding the “contents” from any prying eyes. “A sociopath never reveals their methods.” His laughter continues, his hand is thrown over his heart, making my heart feel like it was soaring. Don’t ask me why.

“Is that your spin on ‘magicians never reveal their secrets’?” His eyes sparkle even in this horrible lighting. How is that even possible?

“Maybe,” I shrug. He’s right though. I guess that was my twisted take on that saying. I just thought it would work in this situation if I tweaked it to fit.

The beautiful stranger moves to the chair right next to mine. “I’m Chris.” He holds his rather large hand out towards me.

I place my hand in his. His fingers curl around my hand, dwarfing it. “Amara.” Amara Remington. Elizabeth calls me Remi and she’s the only one allowed to. I call her Lizzie and I’m the only one allowed to as well. It’s a great friendship we have going here.

“Well Amara, what’s a beautiful girl like you doing at a bar on a Wednesday night?” He takes another sip from his drink. Every move he makes is so fluid and natural… Is this guy even real?

“It’s the slowest night of the week. I like to come here for the food and to listen to the music.” If I was going to get anywhere with this guy, friend drama is not something to bring up right away. I most definitely want to see if this will go anywhere. Even if it’s just for a night.

“I could tell by the way you inhaled that burger. It must have been good.” He chuckles while I most certainly did not. Thank God for the poor lighting in here, I must have turned either beat red from embarrassment or stark white from mortification. That burger was so messy. I was licking my fingers right and left and wiping my face after every single bite. I must have looked like a pig! And he still called me beautiful?

“I can’t believe you saw that and are still wanting to talk to me.” I want the floor to turn into a black hole and swallow me up. How did I not see him before? I for sure would have noticed him when I sat down. I must have been so engrossed in my food that I was oblivious to my surroundings. Damn that delicious burger.

“It was endearing, actually,” He admits.

Is he nuts? Or just blind? “How could that have possibly been ‘endearing’?”

“I like a girl who isn’t afraid to make a mess while eating and who doesn’t care about counting calories and all that weird stuff that people do nowadays.” He shrugs like it was no big deal. “So, I was wondering if you weren’t too full from dinner, maybe we could go get some dessert? I saw this little bakery down the street that I’d like to try out.”

Was he asking me out? If so, jeez he’s forward. But hey, I’m not complaining. I know exactly which bakery he’s talking about and it’s phenomenal. That’s where Liz and I go for our comfort food during our time of the month. It’s remarkable. I could go for one of their fluffy cupcakes. I happily agreed, left some cash on the bar, and we walked out.

When we were walking down the sidewalk, my previous assumption about him was true. He’s taller than me. I have to look up at him in order to talk to him, making him at least 6’0”. I found out he’s from Boston. He just moved here to start a new job. He has two sisters and one brother. His favorite sport is football, he’s a diehard Patriots fan. He loves Disney as much as an adult as he did as a child. He was passionate about space and politics, going off on an elongated tangent on our current Commander-in-Chief. He even had to interrupt himself when he went on his rant. I didn’t mind watching him. One of my favorite things is watching someone talk about something they’re passionate about.

We finally made it to the bakery and each got a treat for each other that we wanted the other person to try. I had him get a triple chocolate brownie to be safe, and he had me get a piece of key lime pie since I had never had it before. We stroll down the block to the small park that was completely empty. We eat our desserts and just talk about random things. He'd ask me questions and vice versa. He’s so easy to talk to. I feel like I had known him for years instead of an hour.

After we're done eating, we decide to hit the swings. We have a contest to see who could get the highest the fastest. I welcome the challenge even if I knew I was going to lose. My shorter legs are at my disadvantage here. Establishing that he was the winner, he decides to be reckless and jump off when he got to the highest he could. He almost made the perfect landing, but he stumbled a little and wound up falling to the ground. I laugh so hard, I have to clutch my stomach at his silliness while I tried to slow myself down.

When I’m low enough to where I could get off safely, he’s walking towards me, looking determined. He doesn’t stop, even when I almost hit him. He calmly grabs the cold chains and keeps going until I’m well off the ground and our faces are impossibly close. It's the first time since I met him that I felt nervous. I tighten my grip on the chains and lock my ankles together underneath the seat. His eyes flicker to my lips for a split second before speaking.

He grunts, “One last question.” All I could do was nod, so he continues, “Do you believe in coincidences?”

I take a second to think about the concept of “coincidences.” I do believe everything happens for a reason. There was a reason why I decided to come out tonight instead of any other night. There was a reason why I came to this bar at the time I did and had the food I did because that caught his attention. And there’s a reason why I had the ideas I absolutely had to write down, which got him to talk to me. Same thing goes for him. Every decision we’ve made up until now has brought us here in this park, on this swing, in this position. So, do I think that it’s a coincidence that we were brought together tonight?

“Yes.”

In a second, his lips lock with mine. I respond quickly, hands pulling his face even closer as my legs wrap around his waist as his hands support my backside. As we deepen the kiss, he lays us down onto the rocks with me straddling him. Our lips move in sync as we both deepen the kiss. His lips are everything I thought they would be: soft and plump. His kisses are gentle, but full of passion. I feel how passionate he was all the way down to my toes. One thing I liked was he never pushed his tongue in my mouth. I hate when people automatically thrust their tongue in someone else’s mouth as soon as their lips make contact.

His hands wander up my back and tangle into my hair. Mine wander down to his pecks and around his shoulders, which are incredibly firm. I’ve never been so close with a guy this fast. But, despite everything inside telling me not to, it feels… right. Every fiber of my being tells me this is right, that I was supposed to be here in this moment with him, that I was meant to be with him…Which is why I need to stop this now.

I try to pull away, but every time I do, he would just bring his lips back to mine making me not want to leave. I knew I had to though before this went any further. I gently push on his chest so I can sit up, separating our lips. “Oh God, I need to leave now.” I get off of him and start to walk away.

“Where ya goin’?” He calls after me, sitting up on his elbows now.

“Home before we both do something we regret. I had a great time tonight. Hope your new job goes well!” I jog down the road, back to the bar to obtain my car.

I make my way home resisting the urge to let the butterflies in my stomach influence the smile that wants to form on my face. Lizzie is not going to believe the story I’m about to tell her… I’m not even sure I believe it. Did that really happen or did I imagine it? When I park my car in the underground ramp, I take out my notebook to see if I had written it, thinking it happened. But nothing I wrote tonight reflected the events that happened in real life. But how could one human being be so perfect? He was the easiest person to talk to, made me feel so at ease with him, and incredibly handsome. And the way he made me feel? It was indescribable. Butterflies in my stomach when he looked at me, palms sweating when he was close to me, the sparks I felt when he touched me… Chris. Such a simple name for the perfect guy.

I climb up the stairs back to the apartment. I close the door and lean against it, still in a trance. Now that I'm in the privacy of my own home, the cheek-hurting smile that was begging to come out makes its appearance.

“You’re back earlier than I expected.” Elizabeth was talking while she was in the kitchen, but when she comes into the living room, she gasps. “You totally met a guy!!” She shrieks after seeing my face. “Tell me everything! And I mean every detail. Don’t leave anything out!” She drags me to the couch, forcing me to sit down.

So, I do tell her everything. From the second I got to the bar, to coming home; from every thought I’ve had to everything I’ve felt. She squeals through the entire story, expressing her excitement for me. She then asks me when I was going to see him again.

Every thought I’ve had within the past couple hours is gone. I never got his number, where his new job is, or even his last name. There’s no way I can get into contact with him. I sigh falling over onto my best friend’s lap. “Never,” I groan.

“What do you mean?”

“I have no way to contact him or know where to find him. I never got his phone number or his last name.” I groan again wanting to crawl into a ball and mourn the loss of the love I will never have with this guy.

“There’s more ice cream in the freezer.”

“I’ll get a spoon.”

For the last week of freedom we had, we wallow in pity on the couch. The thoughts of Chris are always on my mind. His smile, his laugh, his kisses… Ugh why didn’t I at least get his number? I wonder if he feels the same way about it or if he’s completely forgotten all about me by now. That thought depressed me even more.

We watch every rom-com we can find and consume copious amounts of ice cream in this last week. So, when the first day of school comes, we reluctantly peel our butts off the couch to rejoin civilization. We shower and get ready in our rooms. I straighten my hair before putting half of it up into a bun, and do my make-up with eyeliner and mascara, and fill in my eyebrows. I brush my teeth and wait for Liz to be done so we can leave. Our classes start at the same time so we decided beforehand to ride together.

Once we got to campus, we agree to meet up for lunch at one after our first couple classes. I head to my first class, English 5116: Advanced Writing of Fiction. It’s one of my final classes for my major in English with a concentration on Creative Writing before I start my internship next semester. I heard from past students that it’s a hard class, but that was with the old professor. Said professor retired last year, so they had to hire a new one. There wasn’t any news of who the new professor is or his or her teaching style, so this should be interesting.

I find the lecture room with plenty of time to spare. This lecture room is like any other. It’s smaller than normal ones on campus; there are only five rows of ten seats to each row, all curved so it formed a semi-circle around the room. There’s a wooden podium off to the right side of the front and a huge projector screen just waiting for something to appear on the screen. I descend the stairs, and choose a seat close to the front. I found out during my freshman year that I learn better when I’m in the first couple rows. I take out the designated notebook for the class, write the date on the top line, and wait.

There’s still ten minutes ‘til the class starts so I also take out my story and see if I could continue where I left off. More and more people pile in as it gets closer to start time. There isn’t any sign of the professor yet. I hope that he or she is late. I think I have where I want my characters to go next and I don’t want to lose my train of thought.

But then everyone hears the bang of the door closing, startling everyone. “Alright, everyone. Welcome to Advanced Writing of Fiction. I am Mr. Evans, the professor for this course. You may call me Mr. E. or Evans. I will answer to either.” He trots down the stairs, handing stacks of papers to the first person in each row until he gets to the front of the room. My heart does that leaping thing just listening to him speak. What the hell is wrong with me? I look up to see why that happened. A gasp escapes and I think my heart stops completely.

Chris? The guy I met in the bar was standing at the front of my classroom. The guy I had an amazing make out session with is my professor. Oh boy…

He keeps talking about something I couldn’t tell you about because my mind went into shock. He looked so different in a tight, white button-up with a black tie, black slacks and shiny black dress shoes. His hair is done the exact same way it was in the bar. His facial hair looked shorter than it was before. But it was his eyes that looked the most different. In the bar, they looked vibrant and full of life. Now, they look flat and uninviting. I wanted to know why.

“I will not have a formal sign-in sheet,” an overwhelming relief falls over the entire room. “But, there will be a daily written submission due at the end of class every day.” Just like that, said relief was gone. I didn’t mind really. I love making short stories. “The submissions can be from something you’re currently working on, or something you make up on the fly. It doesn’t matter to me. But please, a five-page maximum. I do have a life outside this class.” Chuckles peppered the room.

“I am a little bit old fashioned, so you will have to physically turn it in to me. I will be copying them and handing them back to you at the beginning of each class. I will be keeping a profile of said copied excerpts until the end of the semester. I will meet with each of you three times this semester. First meeting will be to get to know you and your writing style. Second will be at mid-terms to check-up and see how your works have improved throughout the first half and see what there is left to improve on. And the last meeting will be a final assessment of how you have advanced in the writing of fiction.” His pun is cleverly placed and very funny. I wonder how many times he practiced that one at home.

“Now, there will be no formal tests.” Again, relief washed over the room. “The excerpts that you write are your tests to see if you are grasping the concept of what I am teaching you. If you need extra help, my office hours are on the syllabus. Feel free to make an appointment during those hours and I will happily help you with whatever you need.”

“He can help me with something else.” I hear a girl whisper suggestively in the row behind me. I roll my eyes. Does she really think he’s going to be anything more than her professor?

“Since today is the first day of class, how about we go around the room and introduce ourselves? Say your name, major, and what kinds of things you like to write about.” He pulls a chair out from behind the podium, placing it in the middle of the front, sitting on it backwards. He starts in the back row so I was safe until the end since I'm the first person in the front row. Everyone’s answers to what major they were and what kinds of things they liked to write about were all different. From aspiring authors to journalists and poems to novels; so many different combinations.

As it got closer to me, the more nervous I got. Would he recognize me? How will be react to seeing me again and realizing he made out with one of his students? Will he freak? No, probably not. He most likely wouldn’t want anyone to know what occurred between us. Would he request that I transfer out of this class because it’d be too weird? I don’t know what I would do if he did. I need this class to graduate this spring. I might have to beg and plead for him to let me stay if that’s the case.

When it got to me, I try not to look at him for fear of seeing his real reaction. But I had to know what it was. When our eyes lock, nothing happens. His expression never falters. No sign of recognition, fear, shock- nothing. That should be a good thing, right? I can stay in this class and not be weird… But then why does my heart hurt?

“I’m Amara. I’m an English major with a concentration on Creative Writing. And I mostly write novels.”

“What kind of novels?” He pries for more.

“Romance, mostly. Some fantasy. Just depends on my mood,” I shrug, “but they’re definitely all fiction.”

“Well I look forward to reading every one of your submissions.” He concludes, turning back to the rest of the class. “Now, with the rest of the time we have, which is about an hour, I want you to write whatever you want to write about. Your first day, the greatest party you’ve ever been to, the love of your life, anything you want. Just keep it clean, please. This will give me an idea of what I’m dealing with this semester.” He stands up from the chair. “When you’re done, you can leave.” He goes back behind the podium and just stands watch.

I look down at my notebook and nothing. Nothing came out. Zero ideas. Nada. Zilch. El zippo. What the hell am I supposed to do now? I guess I could jot down something from the story I have with me… But that’s personal. I don’t know if I want him to read something so personal to me. Not yet anyway.

I glance back up at him, only to find him staring back at me. I observe the classroom to see everyone writing furiously in their own notebooks. When I bring my eyes back to him, he's holding up a piece of paper. It reads: “Class after this?” I shake my head. He sets the paper back down, scribbling something else down. “Be the last one out” was the next thing he said.

Oh gosh, he does recognize me. And he wants me to stay after. My heart started racing just thinking of what he might want to say to me… I nod once before focusing back to my still blank paper. What could I possibly write about that will get my mind off what’s going to happen after class? I could write about how I felt when my childhood cat died. That’s still personal, but less personal than my novels. It was decided then.

An hour and three and a half pages later, I break out of my trance to see I was the last person still working. Chris is still behind the podium, watching me with what looked like amazement. “You okay?” He asks, breaking the silence. It was in that moment that I realized I had tears running down my face. I immediately run my hands over my face, trying to erase all the wetness on my cheeks and chin. It’s been four years since my cat died and I still get emotional about it when I talk or think about it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a sore subject.” I jot down my name at the top before tearing out the pages.

“You had a pretty intense look for the entire time you were writing again.” He smirks at me again. I pack up my stuff then bring my submission over to him. He continues, “You always have that look when you’re writing. I’ve never seen someone so engrossed in their work before.”

“You’ll see why when you read it.” I hand it to him reluctantly.

“You know, I knew it was you the second I saw you.” He blurts after a silent moment. “I was wondering if I was ever going to see you again, and now here you are.”

“Your student.”

“My... student.” He repeats slowly.

“What are we gonna do? I can drop out of your class, if it’d be too weird.”

“Why would it be weird? We’re both adults. We can be rational about it. It was before I knew you were my student. No harm, no foul.” He shrugs, brushing it off as if it were no big deal at all.

“So, we’re okay?” I ask confused by how calm and nonchalant he was about everything. Maybe he didn’t care about me, like I cared about him…

“Absolutely. I’ll see you on Wednesday.” He grabs the rest of the papers and started up the stairs. I follow when he disappeared from the room.

He can forget everything just like that? He has been on my mind every second of the day since that night. How could I feel so much for him and him feel nothing? He was like a completely different person from when I saw him last. The Chris I met was passionate, careless, and full of life whereas this one was cold and stoic. I guess being in his class will be easier than I originally thought…

I shake it off and went to find Lizzie. She is going to die when I tell her everything.

Chapter Two- Fortune

Permanent taglist: @elusive-beauty @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @naniky @drakesfiance @fantasy-is-my-reality

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itsclydebitches · 5 years

Note

Drabble Prompt: Ruby makes some hot cocoa for Ozpin/Oscar when she finds them awake one night. (post V6E4 was what I had in mind)

I’m being unfair and skipping ahead in my prompts because 1. I need this and 2. I promised @ninjanaomi hot cocoa yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Feel free to spray me with virtual water bottles

Spoilers for RWBY Vol 6 Episode 4

They say that the hunter never sleeps. The same can be said of the huntress.

Ruby had her hand on the edge of Crescent Rose before her mind registered what had woken her in the first place: the soft crunch of snow, muffled through decaying wood, and a silhouette passing by the window beside her. She’d expected that they would all sleep together in the living room when Yang found the old beds infested with bugs, something like their very first night at Beacon… It had hurt Ruby more than she could say when everyone still separated, hardly speaking as they settled in for the night. Now she had the little family room all to herself and was the only one there to notice that someone was still out in the snow.

Ruby left her weapon behind. Foolish, maybe. Probably. But something told her not to go into this conversation armed.

“Hey.”

Oscar wasn’t a hunter though, not yet, and his whole body jerked when Ruby’s voice broke the silence. She hadn’t even realized how she’d been moving: picking up on how the farmhouse door had squeaked earlier and making sure to open it slowly; walking toe-first through the snow to minimize the sound of her boots; keeping to where the shadows were long enough to hide her. Those instincts broke when Oscar raised arms protectively over his head and flinched backwards against a fencepost. Ruby kept still until his eyes opened again.

“Ruby.” Even in the dark she could see how far his shoulders fell in realization; the fear rushing right out of him.

Actually, it wasn’t very dark at all. The snow had picked up after their arrival and the pristine blanket reflected the moon, providing a surprising amount of light once Ruby’s eyes adjusted. She could see now how hard Oscar was shaking and felt something hot settling in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Ruby squeaked. She held up her hands, now doubly glad she hadn’t taken Crescent Rose with her. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw—thought—what are you doing out here?”

Blinking, Oscar surveyed the odd pile at his feet. Ruby could make out sticks of various lengths, leaves, a few bits of trash that must have been lying around for years. Once he’d looked down it seemed like Oscar didn’t know how to look back up again.

“Clearing debris,” he said, voice hollow. “You… you’ve gotta keep the fields clean for when spring comes. Clear the tree lines too. Otherwise stuff might get caught in your equipment later, you know? We’d be doing that back home now. No. Wait. I’d be doing…” Oscar trailed off. He pressed a hand to the side of his head like saying anymore physically hurt him.

Ruby had realized as a kid that things were a lot easier at night. She might chaff at being the “baby” of the family during daylight hours, but had no qualms about crawling into Dad’s bed once the sun went down. All her secret talks with Yang took place between 2:00 and 4:00am. She could often admit things more easily too—whispering them to the ceiling where they stayed until she was finally ready to speak them in the morning.

Nighttime had more possibility to it. There was a whole mess of things to work through come tomorrow, but right then none of it seemed to matter when it was just her, Oscar, and the snow.

…and Ozpin.

Ruby opened her mouth to ask how long he’d been out here, noticed the size of the pile (like a bird’s nest, she thought) and closed it. Instead, Ruby gently took Oscar by the arm and tried not to hiss at how cold he was.

“Okay,” she whispered. “C’mon. Just… follow me.”

He did and the part of Ruby still churning over questions of faith and trust and responsibility loosened a little when he did. She kept a tight hold on Oscar’s wrist as they picked their way back to the farmhouse and halfway there his other hand rose up to grasp at the edge of her cloak. They slipped inside like that, silent and tethered.

Ruby didn’t actually believe that the rest of the group was sleeping soundly, but it made her all the more focused on making sure no one came out to check on them. Qrow had taken up position at the very back of the house—facing the direction they hadn’t cleared of grimm and strangers yet—and Maria had closed the door to the one guest room downstairs. Yang, Weiss, and Blake had all gone up to the second floor to carve out their own spaces. In retrospect, Ruby didn’t know where Oscar had planned to sleep. Or if he intended to sleep at all.

She snuck them into the kitchen.

“Sit,” she said, all but dragging him onto one of the rickety chairs. It wasn’t like the house had heat anymore, but the wood and stone did a decent job of keeping out the wind and seven bodies scattered throughout had helped to add a bit of warmth over the course of several hours. After a moment’s hesitation Ruby re-lit the fireplace they’d stocked, deciding that Oscar’s blue lips were more important than a potential interruption. After another pause she pulled off her cloak and draped it over his shoulders.

It was only then she realized he was still holding onto it. Now he let go.

“I can’t take—”

“You should really—”

They both stopped, waiting for the other to continue and unwilling to do the same. Eventually, Ruby’s lips twitched and Oscar mirrored her.

“You’re cold,” she said only, hopping up onto the table. It was a massive wood structure that had her looking down on Oscar just a bit, giving Ruby space to swing her legs and get the blood going. The smell of the fire burning dust filled her nose and a bit of the chill seeped out of her hands. Oscar tugged her cloak closer and buried his face in the folds.

Ruby stopped swinging. “He wasn’t right you know.”

A slight tilt of his head was the only evidence of confusion.

“Uncle Qrow, I mean.”

Oh, that was a sound. Ruby didn’t quite know what to call it—something like a scoff mixed in with a cold laugh—but it set her teeth on edge and gave her the sudden urge to shake Oscar until he promised to never, ever make a sound like that again. She settled for leaning down into his space. “He’s not, Oscar. I love Uncle Qrow but he’s not always right. You’re your own person and I—”

“Don’t lie.” Oscar’s head whipped up so fast that he nearly bludgeoned Ruby’s nose. He didn’t seem to notice though. There were tears welling up in his eyes and a tremble in his lips that ran all the way up into his cheeks. “I’m not me anymore, Ruby. Why don’t you get that? It doesn’t matter if he’s gone right now because he’ll come back and when he does we’ll merge or whatever and then I won’t be—” Oscar suddenly stopped, staring down at his hands, bawling them into fists before shoving them beneath her cloak. “I’m going to change, okay? I’ll change and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“So what?”

It slipped out fast, but as soon as she heard the words Ruby knew she meant them. She glared hard down at Oscar, voice rolling out in a tight whisper only because the rest of the house was still quiet. Ruby had no qualms about waving her arms though and Oscar reared back with a wide-eyed look that erased the bitter expression he’d had before.

Good.

“What? You think you’re just gonna stay this Oscar for ever and ever?” Ruby waved her arms harder when that shock turned to confusion. “I’ve changed. Of course I have! I went to Beacon and became a leader and fought the White Fang and watched my friends die.” Her throat caught on the last word but she didn’t slow down, scooting until her legs were pressed against Oscar’s shoulder and the two of them were smooshed together in a weird little bundle of limbs and cloth. “Everyone changes. That’s a good thing. Even if… even if the things that caused the change aren’t good themselves. Wait. That doesn’t make sense. Did it? Look. My point is that old Ruby was terrified to even talk to anyone other than Yang. She’d never have changed if given the chance, but then life made her and now I’m me.” Ruby gestured at all of her, hands finally beginning to still. “I like who I am now, Oscar. I don’t like some of the stuff that made me this way, but I also wouldn’t want to go back to being that old Ruby. It’s weird. But everything’s weird right now! So yeah, of course you’re going to change. You would have changed anyway. It’s just... now you get to change with him.”

Ruby wasn’t sure how Oscar would receive that last part, but if the way he drew his own hands close to his chest was any indication, maybe the thought wasn’t all bad.

“And you know what? No matter how you change, I know I’ll like that future Oscar. Okay? I promise.”

Ruby saw the movement of his throat and hastily looked away just as he pressed palms up against his eyes. For a long minute there was nothing but the fire and muffled sobs.

“Do you think he can hear us?” Ruby asked the wall. She only dared voice it after the sniffling had subsided. “Even locked up like that?”

“I... I don’t know. Why?”

“Because I think Ozpin needed to hear that too.”

Slipping from the table, Ruby gestured for Oscar to stay put and used her semblance to fly silently up the stairs and through the door she’d seen Yang choose. Her sister was asleep, a minor miracle given all they’d been through today, and Ruby was able to rummage through her luggage unnoticed.

She only stole a small piece. And if Yang asked about it, Ruby would say it had been for herself.

Another lie, but… Yang wasn’t ready to hear the small truths yet. Like how sometimes even the people she was furious with needed comfort too.

So Ruby took a piece of the chocolate Yang had bought at the station and flew back down to the kitchen. Oscar watched her, eyes red and puffy, as she located a brittle mug and the fresh water Weiss had boiled earlier that night. The fire had finally warmed them and Ruby used the now glowing wood to heat the water again, dropping the chocolate in piece by tiny piece. She hadn’t been able to find a spoon, so she used her finger to stir it all together. It hurt a little, but that was okay.

“Here,” Ruby said, shoving the makeshift hot chocolate at Oscar. “It’s probably gonna taste a little weird, but,” she shrugged.

Oscar reached for the treat with careful, reverent hands. “We don’t have a lot of supplies,” he whispered.

“I know.”

“So why?”

Ruby settled back onto the table, this time pulling the edge of her cloak over her legs like a blanket. Her right arm moved to drape itself over Oscar’s shoulder.

“Because you two look weird without a mug in your hands,” she said, squeezing him tight.

He smiled—a small one—and took the first sip.

When he did, Ruby thought she caught the slightest flicker of gold in the back of his eyes.

#rwby #rwbyfic #rwby spoilers #ruby #oscar #valasania-the-pale

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bittysvalentines · 5 years

Text

Geese and The Soft Morning Sun

From: @beercheesecasserole

To: @disneyinnocent-blog

relationship: Lardo x Camilla Nonbinary character Fluff tw for moderate amounts of drinking, like a slight bit of racism, and fools getting rekt and pong.

~~~ Larissa sat in her new dorm room, fiddling around on her computer.

A blonde head popped in from the door. "Larissa," said her new roommate, Candy, seriously. "Have you seen my dunko doll?"

Larissa looked at the tall girl dumbly.

"What in the goddamn hell are you talking about."

Candy moved fully into the room, standing by Larissa's bed.

"My dunko doll! You know? Dunko dolls? Have you not heard of dunko dolls?"

"No?"

Candy's eyes lit up.

"They're like little figurines of your favorite characters! They're soooo cute, mine’s a princess Biona from Shrecc. It's my favorite movie."

Larissa knew if she listened to more of this she would have a pounding headache in under an hour. Not that her roommate was annoying. She was just very high-pitched.

With a sigh she pushed her computer off of her lap and slid off her bed.

"I haven't seen it. I'm going down to the cafeteria, I'll be back in a few."

"Okay!" Candy said enthusiastically. "By the way, they're serving Chinese there, I'm sure it's not what you're used to at home but I think it's so nice that they're serving something so cultural! You should give it a try!"

Lardo sighed again. She wasn't sure if Candy was just dumb or didn't remember when she had asked 'so... what are you' a month ago. Larissa had never been anything less than Vietnamese-American her entire life. Well, served her right for submitting her roommate papers a day before deadline.

Larissa screamed internally and muttered a quick thanks before escaping down the hall. She would get out of this room if it killed her.

~~~

Larissa looked at the Samwell Sports pamphlet in her hands. Aven from her Ceramics II class had given it to her. Aven had said they managed for Men's Rugby and talked about how they managed to get a room in the team house this year.

"There's not like, a ton of rooms?" they said, chair leaned back and clay covered hands emphasizing wildly. "But it's the BONDS you make. I feel like a part of the team. And I don't even have to play or anything. The guys are great, love em to bits, it's just like SUPER messy all the time. Best house on campus though."

Larissa thought about that. She didn't mind mess. She wouldn't work in 3D media if she did.

~~~

"Ey Lardooooo!" A huge blonde man yelled over the haus crowd in an obnoxious Boston accent. "Be pong partners with me"

Lardo looked over from where she was chatting with Billy about neorealism and its role in the movement of art nouveau and squinted.

"Holster, my dude, respect, but you couldn't hit the flat side of a barn," she said cheerfully. "Hard pass brah."

The blonde giant put on his best puppy-dog eyes while also pushing through the drunk, loud waves of people between them. Lardo likened him to a cute bulldozer. Kinda a good concept, she thought, filing it away for later. Being around jocks all the time surprisingly gave her some great ideas. Lardo wondered for a moment if this had bedazzling potential.

Adam reached her just as soon as the thumping bass of the last song died and just before the new one began.

"Come onnnn," he said with a light in his eyes. "We don't even have to be partners. Ransy wants to play too so you could take his partner and I'll be his! Win win!" He emphasized his argument with a hand motion that seemed to say 'ey? ey?'.

Lardo rolled her eyes.

"Alright. Depends on who it is though."

~~~ Camilla came to the SMH end-of-midterms kegster with Jack but he let her know pretty early that he wasn't going to be around for most of it. Which like, she got. The noise and people could get to be too much for her sometimes too. But as she looked over the crowd tonight she felt tipsy in just the right way to want to get a little rowdy. Then Justin started talking about pong and her plans were set. She wanted to toast some fools.

"Rans!" She called to him as she moved closer "I'm in. Who're we up against?"

Justin pointed wildly over to the living room where a bunch of younger students were moving around to a pulsing beat.

"Holtzy just went to go grab Lardo" he said, grinning "oh man Camilla you gotta witness her back shot, its holy"

Camilla squinted over across the hall into the dim room and saw Holster dragging a small person with a sleek head of black hair behind him.

"Hells yes." she said, turning back to Ransom. "I'll play with whoever, I don't care."

Holster came up behind them and started talking loudly over Camilla's shoulder to the two.

"She's in but only on the condition she doesnt play with me. I'm too rank." he said, dramatically wrinkling his nose. "Cam, you game?"

"Sure" Camilla said enthusiastically, turning to see her new partner.

Holy shit, Camilla thought, face erupting in flame.

~~~

Lardo looked at – no, beheld – the tall honey blonde jock giantess before her. If height wasn't enough to fuck her up, her arms, good god, they looked like she could crack walnuts with them.

Realising she was probably giving this crop-topped stranger a pretty thorough undressing, Lardo took a step back and extended a hand.

"Larissa. Call me Lardo. Sup."

The literal Amazon of woman took her hand and shook it firmly.

"I’m Camilla," she said, smiling, cheeks delicately blushed in a way that set off her sweetly quirked lips. "Are you ready for some pong?"

Whats pong, Larissa thought, staring at her lips.

"Oh... Yeah this is going to be s'wasome," Lardo said, quickly regaining her senses.

There was no way she could lose this for them, Larissa thought resolutely. She needed to impress this literal goddess.

~~~

Ransom almost seemed to be crying.

"It was so beautiful... But I feel so devastated? So many emotions man," He slurred as he leaned on the broad shoulder of his blonde wingman. They both looked worse for wear after having drunk nearly every drink so far in what was shaping up to be a increasingly unbelievable pong game.

Camilla lined up her next-to-last shot at the remaining cup and grinned wickedly at the two boys. "Better get ready. This one’s going in. I call it."

There was no way she could miss this one. The tiny Asian girl beside her had sunk nearly every shot that night. If Camilla hadn't been buzzed, she would have knelt at her feet and declared her the pong god. Or maybe she still would. The night was still young.

"You got this," Lardo said encouragingly beside her, placing a hand on the small of her back. "One last cup."

And Camilla did have it.

Or she had, until Lardo's warm hand had rested on her so gently.

Her ball bounced weakly off Adam's chest and onto the table.

"Ohhhh," Holster said, a light in his eyes. "We aren't done yet, Ransy. You gotta rally for me. Get your second wind bro! Brothers for brothers! This is our shot!"

Lardo snorted. "You still have FIVE cups left. We have one. No way."

Holster lined up his shot and said in a fake hurt voice, "We'll see about that" and the shot landed squarely in their middle cup.

Ransom and Holster both shouted, whooping it up and drunkenly performing a sloppy, involved, handshake.

"Psh. Alright," Lardo said cockily to the two boys. "Ball's in my court."

The two boys quieted down as Lardo squinted at the table before them

Lardo shot Camilla a confident grin before grabbing their sunk cup. "Watch this."

It was a moment that Adam would wax poetic about for the next three years. It was the moment Camilla fell into something with this short, loud, wild girl.

Everyone watched as Lardo grabbed the tiny white ball from the cup and raised the beer to her lips. Camilla could see the sweat running in lines down her olive tanned arm in the heated room. She followed its trail to the crook of her elbow where it glistened before dripping down. Lardo tipped the cup back and chugged the entire thing in one go. Tossing the cup behind her, she stepped away from the table, raised the pong ball, cocked her elbow, and spun around.

Over her shoulder, the ball sailed through the air.

It was like watching liquid honey for Camilla, but she turned to stare openly at Lardo instead.

She couldn't believe it.

She didn't even see when the ball landed squarely in the last cup and everyone watching erupted into screams.

Ransom and Holster at the other end were losing their minds. Absolutely just yelling at the top of their lungs and staring at each other with ecstatic looks.

Then Lardo walked over, grabbed the cup, drank it too and released the loudest, longest, rankest burp into both of their faces.

Both of the boys looked stunned.

Then Ransom solemnly grabbed her hand and did a complicated shake.

"Respect" the man choked out, full of emotion, pulling her into the bro-y-est of hugs.

Holster looked like he was crying now.

Camilla could make out "... j'st so happy..." Before he bawled and joined the group hug.

Well. Camilla thought. Who knew. Hockey players are big AND emotional.

~~~

A little while later when the party dies down a bit Camilla and Larissa find themselves outside on the porch.

It feels so easy to talk together. Maybe it's the tub juice, or the high from the most immaculate pong game in history, but Lardo knows there is nothing that could ruin the night now. She already has had the time of her life. Everything else is just frosting on the metaphysical cake.

Camilla shifts on the warm wooden stairs and moves her arms back to prop herself up on them. Her soft yellow curls tumble back over her shoulders with the movement and she stretches her legs out in front of her.

"So what exactly is a girl like you doing in a house of jocks?" she asks, mouth quirking again. "Not that you don't seem the type, you're just so... well-read."

Lardo laughs, and also stretches her legs out in front of her, positively bathing in the soft, warm, late night air.

"It all started with my roommate actually," she says, chuckling at the memory. "I really needed to get out of the house, you know? And Samwell men's hockey needed a trainee manager and I had those nights free. It felt like fate, kinda."

Lardo lets herself swim in Camilla's soft brown eyes for a second. "Like it was meant to be," she finished.

Camilla just looks back at her. And keeps looking back at her.

Finally she speaks into the moment, all shining eyes, all bright smile.

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean."

And all of inevitable, they kiss.

Lardo pushes herself closer to the taller woman and slides her gently back to against the railing before deepening the kiss.

As the two break away to breathe for a second, Camilla moves her hand up to cup Lardo's face. "Huh..." she murmurs faintly before Larissa moves in again.

It’s deeper this time, and Larissa lifts her hand up to curl in Camilla's golden, perfect locks. There's something in her that just wants to mess them up a bit. Let people know she's been there. Leave a little mark.

Camilla groans and arches her head back as Larissa tugs on the mass of curls she has threaded through her fingers.

Lardo takes this as a sign to immediately start attacking the blonde's neck and pulse point, leaving quarter sized bruises like a string of pearls down the column of pale skin.

Camilla groans again.

"People will –" she sighs into a particularly hard nip of Lardo's teeth. "People are going to see"

"Let them," Larissa gravels out, kissing back up the bruises to recapture her mouth.

And they stay like that for god knows how long.

A loud pop from the back yard and a series of whoops and yips finally breaks apart the pair and a second later a firework blooms across the sky above the house.

Lardo and Camilla watch it fade out, both panting slightly, before Camilla turns back and rests her forehead gently against Lardo's.

"I just," she murmurs, looking at Lardo's bruised lips. "Have never met anyone like you"

Lardo smiles and traces the curve of her jaw with her thumb. "I'm pretty unique."

"This might be taking it too fast," Camilla says, switching her heated gaze from Lardo's mouth to her eyes. "But I live not too far away from here. A couple of blocks. We could walk if you... ?" She quirks up the side of her mouth again, eyes dancing, leaving the sentence in an open question.

Lardo stares at her in something like adoration for a second before kissing her hard and deep one last time.

"Fuck yeah," she whispers onto the thoroughly abused lips, nipping softly with her teeth. "I’m definitely down."

And no one sees them leave the party. If anyone sees them on the sidewalk they don't care enough to comment. No one sees them pushed up against Camilla’s front door before making it inside.

Only the Samwell geese and a few other bleary Wellies see Lardo walking home the next morning, grin the size of a lighthouse and a certain string of digits in her phone.

And if Larissa Duan, on top of the world, decides to fist pump like in breakfast club? Well, she's sure no one sees that either.

Just the geese and the soft morning sun.

Written by @beercheesecasserole for @disneyinnocent-blog for the 2019 Bitty's Valentine's.

#camillalardo #fanfiction #bittysvalentines #bv2019 #omgcp

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 6 years

Text

Putting the Cat in Catastrophe Chapter 2

Bonjour! A little later than half an hour, but I had to eat first - cream of mushroom soup is very good, by the way. Enjoy the new chapter!

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Summary: Danny Fenton has just escaped from a secret government testing facility and runs straight into Andrew Riter - a busybody librarian who seems to be obsessed with helping a stray black cat - said stray black cat happening to be Danny himself. The Government gets interested when they find out a seemingly ordinary human can shapeshift into different animals. Danny just wants to return to his family and try to find his lost memories, but he's having a hard time doing so when he's finding less and less reasons for leaving Andrew's side. He couldn't tell anyone his secret - not again - but... But why did he want to trust this man so badly? (Iambic Prose) (Shapeshifter Danny AU)

Warnings for: Laboratory testing, mentions of vivisections and dissections (nothing physical shown on screen), and references to bleeding

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Chapter Two

He had once heard that an optimistic outlook could make even the worst day into a great one. He heard that as long as you faced the day with a smile and didn't let it break you, no matter what was happening, it would get better. The smile would become real and the day would be good no matter what bad things happened.

Danny Fenton would really like to scratch the eyes out of whoever the fuck had said that. He would settle for biting, of course, but scratching the eyes out seemed like a reasonable reaction to a pile of garbage like that.

Look, the point was that Danny was having a very difficult night- Day? Morning? He wasn't sure what time it was exactly, but the last twenty-four hours had been hell. It was to the point that he was curled up in a stranger's lap and that was the normal part of the day. Danny was tired, exhausted, hurt, and he was pretty sure he should be biting and scratching the guy who was bawling his eyes out in an alleyway, but judging by his story his day was going about as well as Danny's.

So, here he was. Sitting on the lap of a guy who was probably trying to pretend that was rainwater on his cheeks and not tears. Danny kind of felt bad for the guy. Or, he would, if he wasn't- Ugh. It had been a day. Black cats were nowhere near lucky and Danny had the proof to back it all up!

"You've had a very tough life, haven't you?" The man's voice was quiet - almost as if he was afraid of being heard. Danny could sympathize. Sighing and collapsing further into the man's touch, Danny frowned as he felt a purr rumble out of him.

'You have no idea.' His life had been one giant shitstorm of one bad thing after another, but that morning - last night? - had been the worst one yet. It had started out hopeful, too.

"It's already been another year?" Danny looked in surprise at the chocolate bar that was held in front of him, taking it quickly when it was almost pulled away. "Hey, hey, I'm not complaining!"

"All you do is complain to me." Yeah, to Vlad, and that was because Vlad was the only scientist that wasn't completely insane and put in requests to vivisection him. "Five years since you arrived."

"Five years of torture," Danny snorted, tearing the packaging open with his teeth and taking a large bite at once, beaming at the taste. It had been an entire year since he last had something chocolate. "Five years of nothing but this place."

"Hey." Vlad pushed the chocolate bar down before he could take another bite, Danny frowning as he looked into the stare that wasn't quite disappointment, but also wasn't quite reproachful. "You're doing better."

"Yeah, I can remember my childhood bed and my favorite cartoon. Big progress." Taking another big bite, Danny glared at Vlad in defiance. Vlad just rolled his eyes as he began taking Danny's vitals. "Yeah, wow, so much has changed from my last torture session."

"Hush. You know they don't like when you use that word." Yeah, cause Danny was just a little too human for them. At least, he usually was. "You seem to be doing well with the new regime they put you on."

"Doesn't feel like it. I'm still getting the cold and heat flashes every few hours." All Vlad did was offer him a weak smile - that was all he could do right now. "'S fine, I'll get used to it like all the other stuff."

"Ye… Yes." Oh, no, Danny did not like the way Vlad said that. He was also being given a second chocolate bar which meant bad news. Vlad, the dick, waited until his mouth was full of chocolate to speak again. "You're leaving tonight."

It took a good ten seconds for Danny to stop himself from choking and swallow the bite in his mouth, gasping for breath and, "What?!" There was no way- "You're joking. That's cruel- Even for you that's cruel."

"I'm not joking, Daniel." He wasn't joking. He wasn't… Five years. Danny had been here five years and he- He couldn't remember the before, so it was fine, right? This was all he knew so it was fine. Not good, but he was surviving. Yeah, sure, okay, he wanted to stop all the pain and shit, but… "You're seventeen, you've been here five years, and they've learned all they can from you while you're alive."

"What… What do you mean while I'm alive?" He'd been here since he was twelve and five years wasn't enough to learn everything about him, right? "Vlad, what do you mean-"

"They've studied your body as much as they can while keeping it working, Daniel. What do you think happens when they've performed all the vivisections they need?" Vlad's voice was hard and rough, the man clutching at his clipboard and looking ready to break it in half. "What's the difference between a vivisection and an autopsy?"

"The first one is for subjects that are alive and the second is for- Oh." They were going to kill him. They were going to see just how everything worked when they had all the time in the world to pick him apart and study him. "When?"

"Tonight." Silent, Danny stared down at his chocolate, one wrapper empty and the other still having near a full chocolate bar.

"Kind of a dick move considering it's my birthday and all." They were going to kill him. They were going to kill him and there was nothing- Leaving. "You're serious."

"As much as you like to cast disparities upon my character, I don't want to see a child die in front of me." Resisting the urge to argue about the child bit, Danny quietly took another bite of chocolate. "Will it make you feel better if I told you I've been working on this plan for four years, now?"

"Four years? But that's…" That was when Vlad was assigned as his caretaker within the labs. He was the one in charge of making sure he didn't die in his sleep, basically. Four years would have meant that Vlad had been working on this plan since the beginning - since they had first met. "You didn't even know me back then. I was nothing but a subject."

"Please." Vlad gave him the look he usually did when Danny was being an idiot. "You were thirteen years old and you cried quietly when they first brought you to me. Children don't cry quietly unless they've given up."

"To be fair, thirteen isn't a child at that point," Danny grumbled, finishing off his chocolate bar and dropping the wrappers onto the table beside him. "This plan of yours. Would it even work? We've been through plans before." Danny wasn't the only one to dream of escape, but he was the only one who wasn't an idiot and ran off as soon as a door was open.

"Four years is a lot of time to work out the kinks in a plan." Mm. That wasn't a very good answer, but then, Vlad wasn't much of a fan of yes or no answers. "Daniel… This is your last chance. I won't let it fail."

"How much danger is it going to put you in?" There was the soft sound of pencil scratching against paper on a clipboard, Danny steadily watching Vlad as he refused to answer the question. Didn't that just tell him everything he needed to know, too. "There's no way I'm doing this if it's going to hurt you-"

"I, at least, won't be cut open on a table without a heartbeat in a few hours." The words weren't screamed, but they might as well have been with how cold they were. "We're doing this and you can either cooperate or I can resort to plan B where you don't have to be conscious."

"That's cruel." He shouldn't. Danny shouldn't be feeling like this was possible. It was just talk. Words that were nothing but noise. He shouldn't be getting excited over the chance that he could actually be free. "This is cruel, Vlad, even by your standards."

"Whatever made you think I was a nice man?" Vlad patted at his cheek, hand resting there for a moment before he sighed and dropped it to Danny's shoulder. "Just hope, Daniel. For a few more hours, just have trust in me and hope."

"I was supposed to spend the rest of my life in here." That was how it was supposed to go. He'd be the government's lab rat, he'd get used to never having his memories back, and he'd just live out the rest of his life in a government testing facility. "That was how it was supposed to be."

"Yes, well, I've rather found that planning ahead never quite works like one would expect." Vlad sighed, meeting Danny's gaze again. "I'm going to tell you as much about your past as I know and when you get out you're going to find them. They'll welcome you back without hesitation."

"How can you be sure? How can you- I've been gone for five years. Whatever they felt for me is probably- They probably thought I was dead and had a funeral, Vlad. Who wants a dead kid back in their lives?"

"Daniel, they will accept you - your parents, especially. Once you have children… Everything changes. You'll return to them, to Jack and Maddie Fenton, and you'll have a home again. A real one."

"Vlad- Vlad, I only remember a few things. My childhood bed, my favorite cartoon, and the color purple. That's not- That's nowhere near enough to actually survive-"

"You, little badger, give yourself too little credit." Trying not to laugh at the nickname, Danny shook his head. "And yes, I am never going to let you forget that."

"I panicked and you were wearing a white lab coat and I heard someone talking about honey badgers that day. I can't be blamed for what happened." Humor. Humor helped cover up everything else. That was all he needed, right? "Vlad… If it wasn't for you then my first memory would have been waking up in those labs. They've taken everything from me."

"And you can get it back. They didn't take your memories, Daniel, you hid them away. I've told you this." Yeah, yeah, psychology and repression, and everything, but… He had to have hid them away for a reason. Maybe it was because they hurt too much. "You're going to be okay."

"Right. Okay." He could believe in one more lie, right? Besides, if it was the last lie he'd ever believe in, then, well. It wasn't a bad one. "What's this plan of yours, then?"

"This is the last test for this subject, then?" As usual, the scientists preferred to think he was nothing but the animals he shifted into. Danny hoped he could bite at least one of them before he left.

"Yes, after this we move him to F-121." The dissection labs. Fuck, Vlad hadn't been kidding at all, then, had he? "Make sure he's strapped in tightly. They're expecting him in half an hour."

"All secure." The bands around his wrists and ankles were checked, Danny staying still and silent and he just had to have patience. He just had to be patient and wait for the right moment. That didn't mean he liked the fact that he was on his stomach his back was facing them. "Do you think they'll let us study his brain one last time before they put him under?"

Tuning the conversation out, Danny focused on pushing away the pain that came from their scalpels slicing into him, his paper gown pushed away as the strings were cut. As soon as he got out of here he was going to find the largest, softest clothes he could and never take them off.

Just as it seemed like the pain was going to overwhelm him, the blaring ringing of alarm bells had all three of them startling, Danny looking up with wide eyes as the room began to be washed out with red colors.

"The contamination warning? Shit, is it airborne?" The scalpels left his skin and Danny heard the door of the room unlock itself, a pre-recorded voice sounding over the speakers.

"Attention, this is not a drill. An airborne contaminant has been released into the compound. Please escort yourselves to the designated safe spots. Attention, this is not a drill. An airborne contaminant-" Signal. That was a hell of a signal.

Closing his eyes, Danny breathed out slowly before sucking another breath in and centering his thoughts. If one thing could be said about this hellhole, at least it had taught him just what he could do and what he was capable of.

"Should we- Fuck. The subject-" Too late. Throwing himself off the table, Danny hit the floor in a scramble of four paws, rat tail flicking sharply before he gave himself over to his instincts and ran. He knew a scrap of black fur and blue eyes could be easily lost in the chaos that was now happening - at least, to those who weren't looking.

Warm hands scooped him up, Danny opening his mouth wide and flashing sharp teeth and- "If you bite me, Daniel, then I will make sure to throw you into the trash compactor." Danny nipped Vlad's finger in defiance, laughing to himself as he was dropped into the man's pocket.

'No sense of humor at all.' Danny curled up in the pocket, slowly peeking out as Vlad ran through the halls, alarms still flashing and blaring and making the whole building a confusing den of sound and movement. 'C'mon, Vladdie, running out of time.'

"You remember the plan?" No, he obviously forgot between here and- Of course he remembered the plan! Danny hadn't let Vlad leave until he could recite it by heart! "Get ready to shift, I'm about to drop you off at the right vent."

It was only a few moments of Danny wondering what vent it would be at before Vlad was stopping and picking him up gently, hesitating as he stroked a thumb down Danny's back. "Be safe, little badger."

'I won't forget this, Vlad.' Danny knew Vlad couldn't hear his thoughts, but it was nice to pretend. 'I promise.' As soon as Danny's paws touched the ground he was shifting into a raccoon and flexing his 'hands' before fighting to get the screws off of the air vent. It didn't take long before he managed to get them off. Ignoring his cuts on his hands - paws? - and the blood he could feel streaking down his back, Danny closed his eyes and shifted his body once more, panting to get his breath back as he balanced on four paws.

Back-to-back shifting always took it out of him considering how much his body was changing and how quickly it was, but he didn't have a choice much as the moment. "-he's escaping!" Fuck.

"Run and don't look back." Looking up at Vlad with sharp cat eyes, Danny yowled as he was near kicked into the vent, Vlad yelling at him. "Daniel, run!"

Knowing better than to question and not stupid enough to stick around and help, Danny pushed his tears back and ran down the vent, paws quick and sure and stride not breaking once as he bounded across the flexing metal ducts. He didn't stop until something was breaking and clattering and he hit cold pavement, and even then he only stopped long enough to coil his strength together before running again.

He didn't look back and he didn't stop. Cats were fast and they were fleet footed. They weren't meant to run for long periods of time, though, so as soon as Danny crashed into the woods he shifted into a small breed of hunting hound and kept running steadily ahead. It had to be near a mile before he felt as if his heart would beat right out of his chest and yet he still didn't stop. He couldn't. He couldn't.

If he stopped, for even a moment, then there was a chance he would be captured. There was a chance he would be captured, and killed, and he would find out that Vlad- As long as he kept running then he could pretend. He could pretend that he really could get away and get his memories back. He could pretend there was family out there waiting for him. He could pretend that Vlad was safe and had been fired and he was able to leave.

He wasn't sure how long it was or how long he had been running until the crunch of leaves and uneven dirt gave way for smooth, hard pavement once more, Danny gulping down air as he slowed only long enough to change back into the sleek form of a cat - and even then he didn't stay completely still. He couldn't. He was finally free. He was finally able to run and god- God. It was raining. It was raining. Danny hadn't felt rain since… He didn't know when, but it was more than five years ago, that was for sure.

Danny ran as he let the rain wash away his blood and soak him to the bone, the shivering so preferable to the burning, all consuming pain he had been feeling. He ran and he ran and he ran until he stumbled into an alleyway and saw the first human he had seen outside the labs. The man was probably a few years older than him, had scruffy black hair and green eyes, and looked to be having as bad a day as Danny.

He stopped only to get his breath back and let himself rest. That was it. Or at least, that was supposed to be it. Instead he had ended up curled up in the man's lap and not even hissing or minding the fingers that were running through his fur. Danny knew how bad days could make people unpredictable, but this man just looked like he wanted to go home, curl up into a ball, and cry.

Yeah, okay, so the guy was off his rocker insane thinking black cats were lucky and talking to him like he could understand everything he was saying, but Danny could handle being used as a cuddle toy for a few more minutes if it meant he didn't have to deal with a crying person.

Slumping against the fingers, Danny heaved a breath as it finally felt like his heart wasn't about to explode. 'Okay. Okay, your last name is Fenton. You're seventeen and you disappeared when you were twelve. Your birthday is April 3rd. Your full name is Daniel James Fenton and you're looking for your family, Jack, Madeline, and Jasmine Fenton. Your bedspread was blue and you liked glow in the dark stars and your favorite cartoon show had something to do with spaceships and aliens. You love the color purple. You and your family lived in Amity Park.'

Okay… Okay. He needed to find a way to get to this Amity Park. He wasn't sure which way he had run, but judging by the fact it had to be near the afternoon he had been running for hours, at least. He had never travelled outside the lab and it had been small, so he had probably been in a smaller lab simply so they didn't risk losing him in transport. That meant even if he wasn't in Amity Park, he had to be close. That meant they were close, too, though.

Right. Staying as a cat would be best right now. Cats were swift, agile, and small enough to not be seen. No doubt they would be searching the skies for a few weeks, so he had to be careful. They wouldn't expect him to stay as an animal for so long. The question was, how long would it take to convince them that he was dead or long gone? They had to assume he'd go back home, so was his family in danger? What if-

"Come on, petit chaton. Let's get out of this rain." Yowling as the human stood and jostled him, Danny was ready to bite and claw before the man was shifting the umbrella so Danny would stay dry and adjusting him carefully. "You are rather hurt, aren't you… Maybe Randy can help you."

Danny should jump. He should jump down, run away, and leave because otherwise he was about to be taken in as a pet… They wouldn't expect him to be a pet. 'You might have just saved my life, you know.' If he could hide out as a pet for a few weeks, it would at least give him time to decide on what to do.

"Well, since I've already lost my sanity by talking to a cat, let's assume you're smart enough to realize what I'm doing. My name is Andrew Riter and I'll be taking you somewhere where you can get food and medical treatment."

'Oh my god, you're a nerd. Do you go around to other animals and expect them to understand you? This isn't a Disney movie!' If nothing else, at least Danny knew he wasn't about to be cut open anymore. The crazy purple coat the guy was wearing might even be a good sign - purple had always been his lucky color. That was enough, for right now.

It had to be.

#danny phantom #putting the cat in catastrophe #tcc au #iambic prose

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