#sorry for taking about family guy I promise it’s just because it’s painfully happening to me in a dndads episode | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crypticpuffin · 10 months

Text

The University of Wittenberg was not for the faint of heart. It was, however, for the deep of pocket. Horatio was no such student– though many had gotten in through their family’s connections, he had gotten in solely through academic merit and promise (after all, God knows his family could never have paid for his education without the full scholarship he had received). As a result, Horatio, the son of parents that had never approached affluence, found himself in a university in a town in Germany full of rich people who had never experienced hardship– or so he assumed.

Horatio was a good soul, however, and tried to never resent his colleagues for how they had found their ways to this place– in fact, his very best friend, Ophelia, had connections with none less than the royal family, though she didn’t like to talk about it. He simply tried to go on with his university experience and make the most of it (mostly by studying and taking too many classes), and treat his fellow students with benevolence but, mostly, ambivalence.

So how did he find himself in this situation?

He shared exactly one class with this person– romantic poets 101 –which just happened to be Horatio’s best class, both in terms of grades and his enjoyment of it.

So how was this… emo guy doing better than him?

You may, as of now, have noticed that Horatio had a bit of a competitive streak. It took a lot to get him to show it, so it usually wasn’t evident, but by god, this all-black-wearing, perpetually-never-listening-to-you, broody-as-shit guy was more than enough to awaken that in him. The guy didn’t look like he’d ever seen the light of the sun, either, thought Horatio once while observing him once in class (as academic rivals do), which he thought was actually… really sad. But he wasn’t about to start feeling sorry for him! Even if this guy had the most messed-up life in the history of the universe, he wasn’t just going to start pitying him for it. No. He was clearly his equal in academic terms and pity was something Horatio chose not to burden people with as a rule.

“So, is he cute?”

Horatio groaned. The librarian glared at him overtly through her narrow glasses, clearly disapproving of anyone who made their frustration known in the library. Of course, he knew that wasn’t Ophelia’s main concern (at least most of the time), but rather that she was trying to playfully annoy him with such an asinine remark.

“That is so far from the point I fear we’ll need a search team to find it again,” he replied, successfully irritated.

“You still haven’t answered the question, though. It’s kind of crucial information for me to make a judgment on this,” she said, crinkling her nose as she did.

Horatio groaned again, and again the librarian glared at him, even less subtly.

“Can we… can we drop this? His appearance is irrelevant. He could be a worm for all I care, as long as he was a sufficiently high-achieving worm to merit my attention.”

“Does that mean he looks like a worm?”

“Ophelia!” Horatio cried softly, still to the chagrin of the librarian.

“What?? I think worms are cute!” she said, holding back her laughter.

“This is actually important to me! This guy is actively distracting me from my studies. And I don’t mean–”

“No, no, I know what you mean. You guys are rivals, right? Competing for the high score or whatever,” she responded, cutting him off to his relief. She did not, however, sound very enthused.

“When you put it that way, you make it sound kind of pointless.”

“That’s because it is. Honestly, at least talk to him or something. Do you have to, like, rival him? Challenge him, whatever?” she asked searchingly.

“Look, it’s not like we’re proper rivals or anything. It just… really eats away at me, you know? It gets me. It’s like he’s not even trying, but he still manages to do better?” he explained, painfully.

Ophelia could see that Horatio was really worked up about this, that this meant something to him. She debated the matter in her head– first, she would have to find out who this person was. Secondly, she would need to strategize. Perhaps lure him in? Trap him? Threaten him to do worse at school?

“Ophelia?”

She snapped back to her senses. “Oops. Lost in thought again.” She cackled distressingly, as she was prone to do (the librarian, again, did not enjoy this new development). “Anyway, why don’t we talk about something else to get your mind off of it?”

“Like what?” he asked, tired. The day of studying had worn him out, and this conversation hadn’t helped so far.

“Like the fact that Hamlet, prince of Denmark is studying here! Who'da thunk it, me and Hamlet in the same place, back together again. The world throws some crazy shit at you,” she said, trying to seem like she didn’t really care. But the fact was, she did care. More than she cared to admit, and Horatio could tell.

“Weren’t you guys childhood friends or something? Back when you lived in Elsinore?” Horatio asked cautiously.

Ophelia’s expression darkened. From what little he knew of her time there, Horatio knew her time there had been a less than happy one. But in a moment, she “corrected” herself and the shadow over her face disappeared. “Yeah, way back when. We actually dated, if you can believe it,” she said, smiling a little too much. “Y’know, before my raging lesbian era.”

“Oph, you know you can tell me anything, right? I mean you don’t have to, but…” he trailed off, concern showing in his face. “I mean, did he treat you ok? Is that why it hurts to talk about him?”

“Why do you think it hurts to talk about him?” she said, falteringly.

“Because I can see it in your eyes, Oph. We’re friends. I can tell,” he replied without hesitation. “I can always tell. Or, at least, I should.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” replied Ophelia— now she was getting a bit worried about him. He always took too much weight on his shoulders. “You’re my friend, not my caretaker. And I say that with affection, because you would be a terrible caretaker,” she joked, knowing it wasn’t true. Horatio chuckled despite himself. It was too easy to make him laugh, especially when Ophelia was involved. “All right,” he responded. “I’ll be kinder to myself. And I’ll try to not pry so much either.” He reached out for her hand and, for a moment, he felt absolute irrational terror that it wouldn’t be there when he tried to touch it. But his fears melted away as soon as he felt the warm touch of her skin, and he felt somewhat reassured— although he knew a simple touch couldn’t kill either of their demons, it was worth a shot.

At least it was worth it to see her smile.

****

The next day was much of the same.

Horatio worked hard, Ophelia less so (but still resulting in excellent grades) and the mysterious person in Horatio’s poetry class… continued to (at least this was the way it appeared in Horatio’s eyes) slack off and still got better grades or, at least, more commendation from the teacher, Prof. Fortinbras. Over the days that came, Horatio took to sitting next to the “overachiever” to try and see his grades. Unfortunately, this would result in a tragic misunderstanding.

Hamlet had noticed the guy who had started sitting next to him. He often didn’t notice people– many of them blended together for him– but it was hard to miss this particular one. Who could fail to notice a blond mullet like that? Not that he cared, but this guy certainly seemed to. More than once, Hamlet had noticed him peering over to his desk, trying to catch a glimpse of something. But why? What could be his motivation?

In that moment, Hamlet nearly gasped aloud in the middle of class. Could it be…? Yes… it made sense, he thought. He knew little of romance but a little of infatuation, so perhaps this was that guy’s deal.

“Yes, I believe he digs me,” Hamlet murmured quietly to himself, a broody expression on his face. This was troubling news.

Horatio was beginning to regret sitting next to this guy. Hearing the words that just came out of his mouth, despite not knowing who he was referring to, made him rethink his position. Firstly, who says the word dig in that context anymore? Secondly, is this really what he’s thinking about during class? Some guy? He sighed. Perhaps he wasn’t even worthy of being his rival if he was wasting time thinking about some crush of his, and yet… perhaps he was. He may use outdated slang from the 70’s, but watching him recently, Horatio knew he was accomplished and capable as a student. But as a person… he had no way of knowing that, then.

Horatio finally realized he had been staring for far too long and had lost track of the lecture, so frantically, he returned his attention to his own station and glued his eyes to the large blackboard, scribbling notes furiously until his nail caught on his pencil and splintered. Shit, he thought as a drop of blood dripped down his finger. But it didn’t matter. He simply wiped off the blood and kept writing.

Professor Fortinbras didn’t usually take an interest in his students, but he had to admit whatever that blond and brunette had going in the second row had been entertaining him quite a bit. It was still very early in the semester, so he hadn’t learnt everyone’s names yet, but still, their peculiar interactions made him chuckle. He could recognize infatuation when he saw it— he’d has his own “rivalry” at that age. Now, where had all the years gone? He’d lost his land, his title… at least he still had his son, but even he was slipping away from him. It took all his concentration to tear himself from his thoughts and return his attention to the lecture and he noticed the young blond man in the second row had turned away from the brunette. He didn’t look happy. But it was none of his concern. He frowned and went on with his life.

*****

A week later

Horatio tried peering discreetly at the test placement boards. I mean, he tried. But there were a bunch of people in front of it, so he was forced to instead push his way through the crowd as gently as he could (which wasn’t very gently at all). In a few moments of struggle that seemed to him an eternity, he found himself at the very front of the sign, which seemed to loom gargantuanly before him, growing bigger by the moment. All the names were scribbled, illegible, except for just one, at the very bottom– in little, pathetic letters which sighed with defeat at its very existence, was written HORATIO. He felt dizzy, his head spinning, and tried to push his way back through the crowd, but instead the crowd pushed him, straight at the sign, at such a horrific speed that he was certain that he was gonna break every bone in his body. He tried to scream, but no sound left his throat. It was getting closer, closer, the wind around him picking up speed, faster, until—

He went straight through the sign, and was launched into a black, empty void. All around him, only blackness, silence. He was floating weightlessly in the void, surrounded by nothing, crushed by everything. This couldn’t be. How could this be? He tried to touch ground, or sky, but found nothing but space, emptiness. He looked at his arm– there was nothing there. He looked down, and saw absolutely nothing. He did not exist. He wanted to cry, but had no tear ducts, no face, no heart. He was just… nothing. He thought without a brain, he thought he wanted to just exist. To just be.

So he closed his eyes, and there he was.

All corporeal and back together again. He grasped his arms, his shoulders, his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was real again.

But where was he?

The location was certainly eerie: a desolate-looking pond, with a low fog hanging around it, and he could just make out a sinister-looking castle in the distance. The water in the pond looked… wrong somehow, as if it was heavier and more toxic than actual water. But more than that, there looked like there was something… no, someone in the water. He caught a glimmer of dull ginger, but then it vanished and something else caught his attention– a man sitting on a stone bench at the edge of the water. He was partly concealed by the mist, but Horatio could tell he had dark hair and black clothes and very pale skin. In fact, he looked like… he was certain he looked like someone, but couldn’t remember who. Entranced, he approached him and stood next to him. At this distance, he could now see that the man, who must have been his age, had buried his face in his hands.

“Hello?” said Horatio. No response. Was he in distress? Was he waiting for someone? He couldn’t tell. So, he sat by him on the cold stone and looked at him. Oddly, his clothes didn’t seem modern at all– instead they looked like something that might have been worn in the middle ages or something. Weird.

“I’m Horatio. What’s your name?”

Slowly, the man began to react. He turned his face towards Horatio, but with his hands still there in that weeping position, as if they were glued to his face. He began to tremble, and slowly, removed his hands to reveal the face of a rotting corpse, the eye sockets sinking into the rancid skin of the face, the eyes unseeing. The teeth trembled, angled haphazardly in the misshapen mouth.

“H-Horatio?”

When Horatio awoke, he found himself safe in his dorm, but a horrific scream filled the room.

He realized it was coming from his throat.

He stopped himself, and noticed he was covered in sweat. The bed was all in disarray, and he was left sitting there with a blank expression on horror on his face.

He couldn’t remember what had just happened.

Notes:

This is only part one! Hopefully, I'll write more, but I can't guarantee I'll finish it. @withasideofshakespeare, this is based on your request! Sorry if it's more angsty than you wanted, but y'know, writing takes turns (dark ones sometimes). This is my first time publicly sharing a fic, so please... be nice...

Read the next part here: https://www.tumblr.com/crypticpuffin/723690710024454144/another-day-entirely-hamlet-moodily-walked-to-his?source=share

#hamlet #shakespeare #tragic danish boyfriends #hamratio #fanfic #hamlet fic #hamlet fanfiction #shakespeare fanfic #tw death #tw gore #tw horror #tw mental illness

22 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one ✘ two ✘ three

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru��s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

taglist OPEN: @sixeyesgojo @bongofrito @7tsumurai @aphnyoturkey @stuckindreamland06 @dogsarenyspiritanimal @thebeardedmoon @lildreamer93 @pizzaspirits @q-the-rockaholic @rogueofbullshit @ladywaifuuwrites @flochsgirl @hamsa-mage @sonic-and-songs @vsvwi @misslovingpearl | bolded users can’t be tagged

2K notes · View notes

alloftheimaginesblog · 3 years

Text

Life Without Colour {Steve/Plus Size Reader/Bucky}

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Inspired by a tiktok trend lmao. i don’t usually enjoy love triangles, i find it unfair but couldn’t get this idea out of my head.

i might make this a series??? what do we think??

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

Life with Steve was a comfortable life. It was a good life; full of love, affection and happiness. You’d always felt like something was missing and something was missing. You hadn’t seen colour yet. When you met Steve, you knew that you weren’t soulmates yet he asked you out anyway and you said yes despite knowing that. You almost hated the life of soulmates and the fact that you had one soulmate, what if they lived miles and miles away? What if they were dead? What if you never met them? There were too many questions and not enough answers. You knew of some people who never met their soulmate and their vision was always in black and white. You also knew of some people who had been in large crowds or had been drunk, met their soulmate or at least glanced at their soulmate and either couldn’t find them in the crowd or the next day didn’t know who they were and there was no telling of who it could be because their vision was already colourful. So yeah, you weren’t a fan of the soulmate thing.

Steve had met his soulmate, it was Peggy Carter. The moment he met her as he stood in the line up in the army and she scoped them out, his world flooded with colour and so did hers. He hadn’t hidden this from you at all and you admired that; you admired his honestly. He smiled on your first date when he noticed you were apprehensive, “We’re not soulmates, it’s okay.” You relaxed then, “I like to think that there’s more than just one person out there for me. I like to choose my own destiny.”

It wasn’t long before you were in a committed relationship with him. He was like a breath of fresh air, so caring and kind and you had never been in love like this before. Steve was the closest thing to a soulmate as you’d had. You wished that he was your soulmate, it would ease your mind so much and it would have made your life so much easier. People didn’t think you and Steve should be together, you were regularly met with comments like, ‘You’re just setting up for heartache when you find your soulmate.’

You and Steve had spoken about what would happen if your world flooded with colour and you met your soulmate. Honestly, you’d expected a fight to break out but Steve was so kind about it and so level headed, unlike anything or anyone you’d ever seen before. ‘It would hurt me but I said on our first date that we weren’t soulmates. I love you, (y/n), and I want to spend the rest of my life with you but I trust you. I would trust that you would be open with me and let me know what you want to do. I can’t stop you from being with your soulmate so if you wanted to get to know them and see where it goes then I wouldn’t stop you. I just want you to be happy and I don’t want to hold you back from it. Just know that I love you and I believe in us.’ You told him that no matter what, you loved him first and he meant everything to you.

Life with Steve was good. You’d been dating for the best part of a year now and things were going good. You’d met most of the team and regularly met up with Sam and Nat, two of Steve’s closest friends. Steve told you all about his past, he told you all about Peggy and all about Bucky and you loved hearing stories of his past. The way Steve spoke of Peggy made you a little jealous but you couldn’t compete with his soulmate besides, he loved you. He was with you, planning a life and future with you, so you didn’t mind when he reminisced. You hadn’t met Bucky yet but you’d heard all about him. He was laying low in Wakanda, Steve told you, to try and undo the mind control that HYDRA had done to him.

‘I can’t wait to meet him one day,’ you said with a smile, ‘I can’t wait to hear all of his stories about you growing up.’ Oh how you would grow to regret saying that.

It was at Tony’s birthday party that your whole entire world changed and that is where this story begins.

“Do I look okay?” You asked Steve as you walked out from the bedroom. You wore a dress that was a little tighter than what you’d normally opt for, it showed off more curves; hugging your larger stomach and your back rolls.

Steve grinned at you, “Beautiful, sweetheart. I love that dress on you.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself, Captain.” He was so handsome, with that gorgeous smile and his hair styled to perfection. He wore black suit and tie, “My god, my boyfriend is the hottest man alive.”

Steve laughed as you approached him, planting a kiss on your forehead, “My god, my girlfriend is the most beautiful girl alive.”

You looked up at him, wishing that you could stare into his blue eyes and see the shade of them, “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you, too.” A large part of him wished that you had seen colour when you saw him, in fact the majority of him wished that. Deep down, he worried what would happen if you met your soulmate. He trusted you, god he really did, but it worried him. He hadn’t loved like this since Peggy and when he lost her, it almost broke him and he didn’t know if he could do that again.

He kissed you softly and pulled away all too soon. People didn’t understand your relationship, they always questioned whether or not you could be in love with someone that wasn’t your soulmate and the answer you told them was always yes, you can be in love with someone who isn’t your soulmate. Soulmate didn’t mean romantic, soulmate could be platonic too. You told them that you got butterflies whenever Steve kissed you, you missed him every time he was gone, you thought of him all the time and you knew; you knew that he was made for you. People just didn’t understand.

“Let’s go, love,” Steve said as he pulled away, “I gotta show you off and tell the world how beautiful my girlfriend is.” He just always knew exactly what to say, always knew how to lift you up and make you feel confident. Being a plus size woman dating Steve Rogers, America’s hunkiest superhero, it always made you feel a little insecure. When reporters or tabloids took a photo of the two of you together, the comments would always talk about you not being good enough for Steve. The media was a toxic place, that favoured white skinny people and hated everyone else. Your weight did not define your beauty or your worth. You were beautiful and you demanded respect. Steve was good for reminding you of that fact. He had been the one to tell you to wear this dress, he had told you that you looked like a Greek goddess and that Aphrodite herself would be jealous.

You had been to a few of Tony Stark’s parties before and each was always grander and wilder than the previous. This time though he had promised that it would be more intimate than the previous ones. Usually, half the city piled into the Stark Industries turned Avengers Tower and partied until dawn so you didn’t trust him when he said that it would be a more private event.

Low and behold, Tony Stark had been telling the truth! There were maybe one hundred to one hundred and fifty guests, which was still a lot but it was a lot of people you knew. A lot of SHIELD employees were there, Maria, Fury, the guy that played Galactica (you really should learn his name). Tony had invited the team, family, friends, reporters and even... “Is that Paris Hilton?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, appearing at your back, “I built some tech for her dog Tinkerbell so that she could talk to her years ago. She’s pretty cool.”

“My god.”

“Welcome,” Tony grinned, “Champagne?” He asked, snapping his finger and suddenly, a waiter came to you and offered you and Steve two glasses of champagne. You took one and sipped at it, “Love that dress, (y/n), love the colour.” Tony winked at you before getting caught in a conversation with Pepper.

You looked down at your dress, “Yeah, love the colour,” you muttered sardonically. Steve glanced at you, feeling a pang of sadness for you, before pointing over to Nat and Sam. Natasha smiled at you, complimenting your dress and your hair.

“Steve said the colour goes well with my eyes. He said that it’s red.” you said with a smile.

Nat looked at your sadly, “Still nothing?”

You shook your head, “No. I mean, I’m half hoping that I’ll wake up one morning, look at Steve and it’ll happen. I wish it could’ve been him.”

You and Nat had become close over the year, she was funny and kind and she always made you feel better about anything that was going on. She could also be stubborn and sarcastic but she was such a good friend, “Anyway, enough about me,” you said with a smile, “Bruce made a move yet?”

Natasha smiled as she looked over to Bruce, “Uh, yeah, actually.”

“Shut up!” You grinned, taking another sip of your drink, “When? What happened?!”

“He asked me on a date.”

As Natasha spilled the beans on her and Banner’s painfully slow budding relationship, you hadn’t noticed someone walking up to Steve who stood a few feet away and hugged him. You didn’t notice Steve’s laughter and comment of, “It’s so good to see you, man.”

After a few minutes, Steve interrupts you and Natasha, “Sorry, sweetheart, there’s someone really important that I want you to meet.”

You cock your head, “Sure, who is it?”

You can’t see them, Steve’s figure hides whoever it is. Steve grins and you can tell whoever it is is super important to him, “(y/n), I’d love for you to meet my best friend. (y/n) meet Bucky and Bucky meet (y/n).”

Steve steps to the side and your eyes look up and suddenly, you’re staring into the most intense blue eyes, “Bucky...” You whisper as colour floods your senses. The black and white fades from view and instead, colour floods into your vision. There he is, Bucky, the best friend of your boyfriend and apparently... your soulmate.

Oh, fuck.

Bucky’s smile falls as colour floods into his vision and he finds himself staring into your eyes, the first colour that he saw; the first face he’d seen in colour; his soulmate. The two of you stare at the other, unable to move or speak. Steve watches the two of you curiously, “You two okay? Don’t tell me you hate each other already.” You didn’t know what to do. How could you tell your boyfriend that his best friend was your soulmate? You couldn’t. You knew that it would crush Steve. You open your mouth but nothing comes out.

It’s Bucky who forces himself to look away from you and clears his throat, a smile plastered on his face, “No, just surprised that you never mentioned how beautiful (y/n) is.” He’s handsome, you’d known that for ages by all of the photos that Steve had shown you but he’s really handsome with a tanned complexion and short dark hair. His eyes were a deep shade of (what you would soon learn to be) blue and they were lovely. They looked sad; haunted almost and had such intensity that it made you feel self-conscious the longer you stared at each other. He wore dark pants and a white shirt that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, his metal arm glinting in the light. Bucky Barnes was your soulmate.

Steve’s arm wraps around your waist and pulls you into his side as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve heard so much about you,” you say, forcing a smile, “Steve talks about you all the time.”

Bucky extends his hand, almost unsure whether he wants to make physical contact with you. You look at his hand and up to his eyes before extending your own hand and shaking it. He has a firm handshake with calloused hands from years of dealing with weapons and you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. There wasn’t a spark or that electricity that people talk about. People described touching their soulmate like being shocked yet it was just a hand and it was just for a second.

Bucky smiles as he drops his hand, “I hope it’s all good stuff he’s been saying.”

“Of course,” you say, “I thought you were Wakanda though.”

“I was,” Bucky nods, “but I’ve been free from HYDRA for a few months now and I felt confident enough to come home again.”

“Even got a new haircut,” Steve grins, reaching out to ruffle Bucky’s newly cropped in hair.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “You remember when you were the five foot four scrawny kid that could barely reach my head if you reached up? I miss that.”

Your head hurts from all of the bright colours; so many bright colours all around you that made you wince. You didn’t know how people just adapted to the bright colours. There were so many and you didn’t know what their names were, “Excuse me, I’m just going to get some air.”

You turned on your heel and left, trying to ignore Bucky’s eyes that bore into the side of your skull and instead walked towards Tony’s balcony. You could feel your breathing quicken as your heels tapped on the marble floors as panic rose in your chest along with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Turning the handle, you opened the balcony doors and slipped out. Thankfully no one else was here so you were free to express whatever emotion you wanted. You looked out at the city, away from the party, as you let yourself feel. The city was beautiful, overwhelmingly so. Your hands trembled as they clung to the railing, terrified of what was going to happen next. Bucky Barnes, Steve’s best friend, was your soulmate. Out of the seven billion people in the world and your soulmate just had to be your boyfriend’s best friend.

Your breathing was ragged as you tried to calm down your sense of panic as bile rose in your throat. Squeezing your eyes closed, you breathed in deeply through your nose, “You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself, repeating the mantra over and over.

You were so focused that you didn’t realise someone else had stepped outside with you and were approaching you, “Look at the sky,” the voice said; the voice that made a shiver creep down your spine, “It’s okay, just look to the sky, (y/n).”

Opening your eyes, you looked to the sky. You didn’t need to look to know that it was Bucky, “The night sky is the same as it always was; still dark with white stars. Slow your breathing down and focus on the stars.” You did as he instructed, forcing yourself to breathe slower and deeper and forcing yourself to look only at the stars. It was minutes later when your breathing was slow that you felt confident enough to look out at the city, “How you feeling?”

“Overwhelmed,” was all you said.

Bucky nodded, leaning against the railing and looking out, “They’re amazing, aren’t they?” He asked, sparing you a glance, “Colours, I mean. I have no idea what each one is. I don’t know what’s blue or red or green but they’re beautiful.”

You nodded, “Yeah... What colour of eyes do you have?”

“I’ve been told blue, why?”

You pointed, “That colour. That billboard that’s talking about pizza. That’s blue. It’s the same colour as your eyes.” It was a lovely shade of blue actually; a deeper, more intense blue.

Bucky pointed to a flashing light across the way, “That’s the same colour as your dress.”

“Red. Steve told me that this dress is red.” You looked over at the light, “I’m too scared to look at the dress. It doesn’t feel right. He bought me this dress, he compliments how well it suits me and I’ve just discovered colour with his best friend.”

“I know... It’s the last thing I wanted or thought would happen.”

“Honestly, I would’ve preferred my soulmate be Loki, no offense, but that would’ve been much easier than this.”

Bucky laughed slightly, “I’ll drink to that.” He drained the rest of his champagne before setting it down on the ledge, “Steve told me all about you. Whenever we’d call, all he wanted to talk about was you.”

“All Steve liked to talk about was you,” you said to him, “I suppose we’re the greatest loves of his life right here, Peggy aside.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Told you about Peggy, huh?” You responded with an ‘of course’. Silence falls on the two of you and it’s Bucky who breaks the silence a minute later, “Look, it’s gonna be awkward. We can try and pretend this isn’t there but we’ll always know but... I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, “Shouldn’t we tell him?”

Bucky shrugs, “If that’s what you want.” I don’t know what I want right now. I want to have never met you, Bucky Barnes. I want to go home and to curl into bed with my boyfriend. I want black and white vision back, “This would... destroy him. I don’t know if I’m prepared to tell him, not yet at least. Could you?”

You thought about it, going through scenarios in your head, “I want to but... I don’t want hurt him.”

Bucky nods and looks out towards the cityscape again, “So, it’s decided. We keep it a secret and don’t worry, we can try and avoid each other and pretend that nothing’s happened... Deal?”

You nod, “Bucky... I’m sorry.” You didn’t know why you apologised but you felt a pang of guilt that you’re his soulmate and nothing can happen between the two of you.

Bucky laughs but you notice that it seems a little forced, “If only I’d met you first, doll, eh?” You laugh with him slightly, only quiet and only for a second, “I’m sorry too. This isn’t easy so I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to avoid me like I’m the plague,” you tell him, “I don’t want Steve to get suspicious but he’ll get suspicious if we’re never around each other...” Bucky nods and tells you that he understands, “My god, it’s all a bit complicated.”

You feel a pang of guilt again that you’d be hiding it from Steve but it’s for the best. At least for just now until you and Bucky kind of understood everything and got a hang of the new world in front of you. You didn’t want to lie to him but you couldn’t tell him this... not yet anyway. Bucky mirrors you and sighs, “It’s for the best.” He nods, “We’ll tell him eventually...”

Bucky gives you one last smile before he turns and leaves. He pauses and walks back over to you, “It’s nice to finally meet you, (y/n).” He says sincerely, “You really are beautiful, Steve’s a lucky guy.”

You look up at Bucky and you know that anyone would kill for him to be their soulmate, “It’s nice to meet you too, Bucky,” you say, voice barely louder than a whisper, “It’s nice to finally know who my soulmate is even if it can never happen.”

He takes a breath before going inside and it’s then that you finally look down at your dress. The colour surprises you, it’s bright yet dark and deep and rich and it’s beautiful. Steve had done a good job picking this one out. You lift your head and notice Steve approaching from inside.

You turn your back to him, taking a deep breath, before he’s beside you, “I saw the two of you talking,” he says happily, “You like him?”

You turn to him, about to say something when you falter. His eyes. His marvellous blue eyes. They were a few shades lighter than Bucky’s, brighter. You find yourself melting into them. You love them. Steve says your name, snapping you out of your trance, “Sorry, champagne went straight to my head. Uh, yeah, he’s lovely,” you say with a quick smile, “He thinks really highly of you, Steve.”

Steve grins, “I’m so glad that the two of you get along, I was so worried in case you didn’t. I was even worried in case it turned out that you two were soulmates because Bucky sees black and white too!” Steve laughs and you want to cry. You want to blurt out the truth; you should have told him. Dear god, you should have told him then and there but you don’t. Instead you force a laugh and laugh with him. Steve notices nothing.

You talk for a few more minutes before you tell him that you’re really tired and have a migraine coming. It’s not a lie. “Can we go home?” Steve nods, shrugging his suit jacket off and draping it over your shoulders.

“Let’s go.” He leads you back inside and you find yourself unable to look at anything other than the floor, “Let me say bye to everyone first, okay?” He presses a kiss to your temple before weaving through the crowd to find the team and say bye. He’s back barely a moment later and as your leaving you accidentally bump into something hard; really hard.

“Jesus!” You hiss, grabbing your shoulder.

“Shit, sorry-” It’s Bucky. Of course it is. Of course. You can barely look him in the the eye longer than a second, “You okay? I promise the other one isn’t that hard.”

Steve mimics his question of asking if you’re okay, you nod, “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve got a migraine, didn’t see you.”

“You know, I have a migraine coming on too,” Bucky says, rubbing his head. That was what finally seeing colour did to you, you supposed. “You two heading home?”

Steve nods, “Yeah... What about hanging out some point this week?” He asks Bucky, “You could come for dinner... Sunday?” Steve looks to you, “We’re not busy, are we?” You shake your head.

Bucky glances at you almost looking for your approval before he answers. You give the tiniest of nods and Bucky relaxes, “Yeah, sure. Sunday sounds great.”

Steve grins and the pair hug, “I’ll text you tomorrow and we’ll set it up.”

As the pair say their goodbyes, you look up at Bucky, meeting those blue eyes. God, you just need to go home and sleep. Maybe this is all a bad dream, maybe tomorrow you’ll wake up and everything will be black and white again and the guilt will be gone. You muster up the strength to say goodbye to Bucky before Steve leads you out of Stark Tower.

It’s a long car ride home and you’re only fifteen minutes away in a car. The drive is long and all you can think about is Bucky, nothing romantic but more you couldn’t believe that your soulmate is Bucky. The universe is fucked up; getting off on causing the biggest love triangle of the 21st century.

Steve asks if you’re okay and all you can say is, “Tired.” He frowns at you, knowing something’s bothering you. He knows you the best out of anyone on his planet so he knows exactly when something’s wrong. He puts it down to the migraine and tiredness but there’s something niggling in the back of his mind as he drives you both home, something that makes him think that something else is wrong and bothering you.

As soon as you get to Steve’s apartment, you kick off your shoes and ask him to unzip you. He does and immediately, you step out of your dress and go to put some pyjamas on. He picks up your dress and follows you into the bedroom, “Are you sure that nothing is wrong?”

You sigh, “I’m fine, really. This migraine is just doing a number on me and I’m tired. I think I just need to sleep.” Steve lets you get dressed and brush your teeth. When you come back into the bedroom, he’s in bed waiting for you with a bottle of water and some migraine tablets, “God, I love you, Steve Rogers.” You take the medication and the water and set it down on the bedside cabinet.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead once you’re settled into bed, “Get some sleep, sweetheart. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Something you always envied about Steve was his ability to fall asleep quickly. He always said that it was a perk of the super solider serum. Within three minutes, Captain America is snoring beside you, arms wrapped around you tightly. You try to sleep but all you can think about, all you see when you close your eyes is Bucky’s piercing dark eyes staring into your soul. When you do get to sleep, those blue eyes haunt you.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky can’t get your face out of his head. He lays on the floor of his apartment, the cold wood cooling the heat of his body. He can’t stop thinking about you. After years of wondering who his soulmate is he can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that it’s his best friends girl. Bucky sighs and rolls over.

If only I met you first, doll, eh?

#one shot #os #life without colour #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #marvel #marvel one shot #avengers one shot #avengers

591 notes · View notes

tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Scandal Ch. 5 - Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki returns to claim what is his - willing to kill everyone in his way.

Warnings: Angst.

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

Taglist: @catlover092402152, @hi-there-x, @haloangel391, @misssilencewritewell, @babayaga67, @accioremuslupinn, @mochimommy2002, @just-someone-who-likes-to-write, @damalseer, @bethanystan, @loser-alert, @star017, @nina1800, @queenariesofnarnia, @n1fangirlsblog, @vengefulsokovian, @lunamoonbby, @freyagallileaevans, @emmojoy, @literate-lamb, @aninnai, @justsomerandompersonintheworld

A/N: Sweet little Feedback Anon, I took your suggestion. You know which one I mean if you see it. (:

Btw guys I have like 60+ Drafts I need to finish so pls be patient with me.

Word sure spreads fast among the folk of Asgard, about Odin’s shame and your innocence.

Since his lies had weakened the favor among his subjects, the Allfather was desperate to clean his name and reputation, ultimatively inviting you to come back.

But you declined, stating that this wasn’t your homeland anymore ever since they betrayed you to fullfill their selfish ambitions.

However, Asgard’s hypocrisy wasn’t the only reason you chose to stay on Midgard - you just knew that it would break your heart every day you’d spend on a place with so many memories connected to your deceased husband.

Earthlings, the people of S.H.I.E.L.D and especially Thor’s friends Jane and Erik Selvic had basically become like family to you. Even though they could never fill the void Loki had left in your heart, things being like this was more than you could wish for.

“Lady Y/N!” a familiar voice greeted you, yet his worried tone startled you. Thor was already standing in your room, practically kicking in your door as he was visibly upset.

Immediately, you put Liam into his crib and rushed to his side. “What’s the matter?!”

A strange mix of horror and excitement was stretched across his face, making your heart sink to your stomach.

Actually, you didn’t want to involve yourself with the Asgardians any further. All you ever wanted was for your child to be healthy and happy, no matter where this was possible.

But Thor was still your cherished brother-in-law, as well as a wonderful uncle, never ceasing to provide for you and Liam, even when everyone else had forsaken you.

Yet what he was about to tell you let your blood run cold:

“Loki is back.”

Immediately, all the walls you had built up over those past months were crumbling as you collapsed to the floor, crying out of anger and relief.

“H-How? How is this even possible?! He’s dead! Loki died!”

“Pull yourself together, Lady Y/N!” Thor has always been a rather touchy-feely kind of person, in opposite to his raw and bulky appearance.

But right now, he wouldn’t dare to hug or console you, like he’d usually do. Instead, he was offering you a hand to help you get back up - which you wouldn’t be able to take just yet. “There’s no use in overthinking this! We need to hurry!”

“What do you even want me to do?” you wondered, because if your husband was really alive, you’d doubt him wanting to see you. “He’s changed...killed a lot of people before he disappeared. And still, I don’t wanna fight him. How can I be of any help at all?!?”

“We know he’s probably after you and the child” the God of Thunder stated coldly. “So you need to be transferred to a safe location.”

What can be more safe than a base of S.H.I.E.L.D? If only you knew he had already demolished a whole, giant outpost of them with ease...

“I’ll explain everything to you on the way.” “Let me quickly get the baby.”

“What, did you forget the name of your nephew already?” you chuckled awkwardly, but seeming to have struck a nerve.

Thor was only slowly approaching the crib in which your lovely baby was resting, staring at it with awe while his trembling hand caressed Liam’s cheek.

“Incredible...” he whispered mainly to himself, as if this wasn’t the thousandth time he would lay eyes upon him. “He’s just like I remember him.”

Something was off.

Of course Thor had a spare key to your flat, but you had never heared him unlock it - he had just kind of appeared in the middle of the room. Could as well be that you had been to invested with something, or buried in thought to notice him, and yet...

“Wait” you stated, making him flinch away from the child and turn around. “My knees are still weak. Help me up first.”

With heavy steps, Thor would force himself away from the crib and towards you again, lending you another hand and easily pulling you up - just for you to point a sharp dagger to his throat.

“Lady Y/N, when did you summo-”

“Shut up!” you hissed, and the god held his hands into the air to assure his goodwill. "Drop the disguse. Now!”

The man let out an amused huff, a taint of green covering his body to revert it back to normal - revealing your husband.

His hair had become longer, and dark rings showed how devastating those past months went by for him. Yet still, he was unmistakingly your husband.

Yet a faint, mad spark in his eyes was what worried you the most.

Now he was holding a knife as well, both circling around the crib with a knife at each other’s throat, as if to dance with each other.

“So it’s really you, Loki?”

“The one and only” he declared, chest swelling with pride at his performance and completely ignoring your hostile undertone. “I missed you painfully, my sweetling.”

He looked to the side where your son was still sleeping soundly, regret clearly visible on his face. “Wha- what name did you give our child?”

“Liam it is.”

The smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, swallowing harshly to surpress the sobs wanting to break free. “Beautiful name. Very well chosen.”

Pain was stretching across your features, desperately trying for the dam of emotions to not break. The dagger in your hand vanished, rather choosing to reluctantly caress his cheek - to make sure this was really him, and not one of his illusions.

And it was really him, leaning into your touch with a content purr. “Yes, my love, just like tha-”

A loud noise drang to his ear, effectively cutting him off. He needed a second to understand that it was in fact you slapping him what caused the interruption.

“Dear, wait, I-” Another hit, this time it was your knee digging into his groin, making him gasp in pain.

With his current power, it would be a piece of cake to block you - yet he knew that after everything that had happened to you, and everything he had done...

...it was what he deserved. So he would allow you to let off some steam.

Yet much to his surprise, you were done already - now grabbing desperately on his cloak and pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

He immediately reciprocated, dropping his weapon as well to embrace you fully, lips mingling with each other over and over again.

Oh, how long had both of you craved for each other?

“Sorry” you panted as your lips finally parted, “Just needed to get that off my chest.”

“Do not apologize, my love” Loki declared, chin resting atop of your head, still no intention to let go off of you. “I deserve far worse than that.”

You looked up to him, the kiss having made something surface in his eyes: So solemn, and incredibly fragile, it made your heart ache.

“Wha- what happened to you? Where have you been all this time?”

Loki’s face contorted at the question, as if the thoughts in his mind were physically painful. But his mind was clouded, unable to make his proper memory resurfacing. “Places far beyond your imagination, dear. And I have learned many things.”

“I-I thought I had lost you...” you ultimatively began to sob, face dug into his chest.

“No” the god whispered softly, his gaze still unwavering. “You always have me. I promise.”

“What now?” you sniveled as he gently pet your head, just as back in good old times. “Where do we go?”

“What do you mean?” Loki’s features creased into a slight frown, “We stay here. There’s no need to leave or flee.”

“Bu-” you hesistantly took a few steps back, to take in his full reaction. “But you’re a wanted criminal, Loki! On Asgard as well as Midgard!”

His manner became more defensive again, glee radiating off of him. “Oh, my sweet, innocent Y/N...still the idealist, I see.”

“And you are still insufferable” you scoffed back, crossing your arms. “What do you mean?”

Actually, you dreaded the answer.

The man seemed to be thinking about many things at once, eyes narrowing before he finally took a hold of your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly when he saw that you were still wearing his ring - even after everything that had happened.

“Y/N, my love, those deaths were a necessary evil.” He tried to peck a quick kiss on your hand, but you pulled away at those words. “The only crime I feel guilty for is having left the love of my life. But don’t you worry, I’ll make up for it.”

He summoned a staff, glowing in the same blue as the tesseract - and much to your terror, his eyes started to adapt to them as well.

“I will create my own kingdom, Y/N! Here on Midgard, with you as my queen! This is what you deserve, my love! You and our child will have everything you desire and more!”

“This is madness, Loki!” It wasn’t the first time he had heared that.

People always treated him wrongly, afterwards wondering why he was trying to create felicity on his own. “Is it?” he croaked, “Is it madness for a person born to rule two kingdoms to create a home he never had?”

His plan did not merit awe or any such feelings he hoped you to have - the only person in the world he thought would understand him.

“Loki, what your parents have done to you is inexcusable, yet-”

“They’re not my parents!” he screamed enraged, eyes then widened in shock that he had raised his voice at you. “My apologies, I...”

“They have kept the truth from you so that you’d never feel different. You know you’re their son, and the Asgardians are your family. You must know that!”

“You speak like mother” he spat, and still Frigga’s words he could not shake off as easily as Odin’s. “There is no going back to that place, and Jotunheim I never had a connection with. You most likely heared that I tried to kill Laufey, yes?”

Nodding in silence, you nervously bit your lip. “Please...” Wrapping your arms around him and placing one ear at his sternum, you could clearly hear how his heart was fighting a war, struggling to decide.

“You can still stop whatever you were gonna do. We can start anew somewhere, lead a peaceful life with Liam. I don’t need wealth or power, and you clearly know any of this wouldn’t give you the satisfaction you’re searching for!”

“As always, you’re right” he grumbled deeply, already regretting what he was about to do. “But it’s not that easy, my naive little dove.”

“No~” With his hand on the back of your neck, he infused a powerful magic inside your body, slowly shutting down your nervous system completely. As careful as possible, he cradled you in his arms and slowly led you to the floor, then proceeding to take his heir.

“The only thing I need for myself is our little family - and I will avenge you by murdering anyone that did you wrong, or tries to separate us again.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki x Y/N #Loki Laufeyson #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #Marvel #Disney #God of Mischief #Writing #Self Insert #Fanfiction

180 notes · View notes

alberivh · 3 years

Text

the fall of the prince

summaries : losing your visions and memories became a great loss to your lover, kaeya.

characters : kaeya alberich x GN! Reader

contains : heavy angst, memory loss, injuries, major character death.

A/N : this is a request from @mika-zuko !! I really love the idea mika gave so i decided to combine both of it together and make some twist in it. So i hope you all enjoy this especially you mika <33 , have a great time reading this! (( ah yes this is very shitty because of my really bad writing block right now, so i’m sorry if this doesn’t fit your liking ))

“do you remember me?” He ask. His tears are now forming into his right eyes, edging it onto the corner where it belongs. He try to loved you, the same as ever even after the day you’re visions begone from your side. but where are those emotions he always felt when you were in his embrace, Are you hesitating to fall for him?

“My apology sir..but who are you exactly?”

This sentence full which just fall through out your mouth, terrified the spine of his frail structure. He’s been waiting for you to come home and love him again, but where are those lingering promises you left at his ears, is it just a lie for you to forget the burden of your misery when you were with him?

Kaeya slowly let you out from your embrace. Embarass and scared for his life. He was painfully not in the structure to see you in the eye. So he let out a word before he ran to the other side of the road forcing his tears to hold it back before you could even reach his arms.

“ah..i see then, nice to meet you..guest from afar.”

The cavalry captain bow to your side, leaving a ungestured mark on your face. He was tearing up, not knowing how to react. He was completely unstructured, even diluc noticed it. He was numb for the whole week, thinking so many way for you to remember him again. You remember the way those monstadt’s citizens talk or walk their way through out the open wind of the nations gate. you remember your family members, you even remember the unlucky adventurer, bennett. you remember your own name still you forgot the last piece of your name, his last name. Yet, why won’t you remember him?

It hurts him. He was mentally abusing himself for being someone who aren’t worth to be remembered by you, at least remember the piece of me my love.. he begs you to remember his hopeless plea even if it meant for you to not love him again, he wants you to remember him.

paperworks are now his only friends. Keeping him in nights where he feel hopeless and numb. diluc have mention how different kaeya has been acting after you cameback to monstadt. Though, you could only reply with a confused-question that would’ve explain all of your memory loss to diluc. As he also never mention your lost vision, knowing you could still have those elemental power without the visions itself.

Diluc doesn’t want kaeya to know the truth, he wants kaeya to avoid his losses. A frame of his sympathy for his own brother.

“who..? I don’t know a man named kaeya..who is he master diluc?”

2 months of his isolation and numbness from the sight of you, he became more of a shadowy figure instead of a person. As now the nights called him as the ‘loss prince’. An emergency assignment has been trusted to both kaeya and you, kaeya doesn’t wanted to accept this mission but maybe, fate would turn their heads onto his heart, no?

you were both in the road to the abyss herald domain jean has mention to your both assignment. You couldn’t kept talking to him even after you introduce yourself to him, you though he was ‘the lost guy’ you imagine him to be. is there something wrong with him? You realized. do i ever knew him? You hold your grudge to ask him, he was just your senior now, after all.

“captain kaeya..i think we should just fight this t—“

“No need, just investigate as what jean said. I’ll be here to fight this herald.” , words couldn’t comprehend his frustration after losing you and the memories of you loving him. He was severely depressed, yet he still couldn’t managed to find a way for you to comeback again to his side. He was murmuring something, as if it was a mantra for you to stay with him, observing him to pieces just like the first time ever.

As he was about to touch your arms to protect you, he lost his balance. Making him fall to the hard dusty floor of dry bloods and rocks. But why are there a hints of fresh blood? Figuring out any keys that lead him to know any momentum that just happened now, he found your figure. Shaping a name out of a heavy breath, you are calling for someone to recognize it.

“kaeya alberich…yes..kaeya alberich..” , hinting a glaze of sadness to kaeya’s dark eyes. You were trying to remember him.

“h-hey what happened? Didn’t i just—“

“darling..it’s you..it’s you..” , you looked like you about to guilt trip yourself and it hurts him even more. Why are you punishing yourself through out something you couldn’t control? You were trying to remember him, yet the guilt inside you couldn’t make you scream your apology to his now teary face.

Heavy injuries covered your arms and chest. Making those injuries a fatal wounded area for you to live. Kaeya was making sure you’re safe, he doesn’t want you to die like this even after you remembered him again. He wants you to fell in love with him again.

the abyss herald knew you, after all they were in debt of your sacrifice to safe kaeya’s life.

“somehow..i couldn’t remember anything about you..it sucks kaeya..i loved you so much..please..just please save me..i-i really don’t want to die..”

“I just remembered you..i just loved you all over again..let-let me loved you again and again..archon’s..archon’s—“

Squeaking through your pain in agony, you could feel as if you were squeeze in kaeya’s embrace. It was so tight it could even let you remember everything you both has passed through. You were dying as you remembered him. It was painful yet so comforting. The injuries are hurting you and it make kaeya lose his self controls. He wants you to love him again but not like this. Why are you dying? I though you loved me?

As you try to comforted him in your last moments, soothing his hair until your darken eyes and soul-less arm speak it condition. you told him the truth of your memory loss and love for him. Everything for my lover, even after i couldn’t stay with them till the eternity.

“kaeya..darling..i missed you..s-so much..visions and such aren’t important.. i just l-loved you so much..i loved you..-“

your breathing ends, your flawless blood are now drying it’s corner from your body. You still hold onto him very closely, even after you learn how apologies couldn’t forgive fate. A swift stroke from the herald and now you’re gone, bullshit.

He kills the herald in no time, paying no attention to your dead eyes. While Still opening it eyelids, even after the owner of the owner of it’s body die in his lovers arm, kaeya couldn’t make himself to close your eyes. You’re dead and he’s dying out of emotions. Kaeya still brought your corpses to the headquarters, freaking everyone out with his dissastrous unsteady look with a bloodshed corpses in his hand.

“Jean..revived them, my darling remembers me and so should you revived them.”

now you were only a piece of memories in his mind. Your tombstone are just a piece of art that have been borrowed by the God’s to remember your existence. Both, Diluc and kaeya, decided to buried you at the Ragnvindr burial site. Why? the citizens ask for diluc statement. Because you were kaeya alberich significant other, and always have been. As honest or as controversial it might sound, they are the part of the Alberich’s whom was also the part of The Ragnvindr’s.

“father..take good care of my sweetheart upthere won’t you..?”

#genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact kaeya alberich #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich angst #kaeya alberich fanfic #kaeya alberich headcannons #kaeya x reader #kaeya angst #kaeya headcannons #kaeya fanfic

178 notes · View notes

creepychan08 · 3 years

Text

Oikawa x reader - A married life

"Now I'm asking you, what is this?" You shoved the screen of your phone, towards your husband as he squinted his eyes at the sudden action.

"I told you, I was at the company party and I-" Oikawa stopped. The picture showed him kissing a woman clad in revealing dress. His hands covered her cheeks as it looked like he was gladly returning the affection.

"Yn, I know what it looks like but I promise you its not what it seems like to you."

"Then why are you kissing her!?" You threw your hands in the air, frustrated at your husband. It didn't help that your hormones were skyrocketing and out of place. You were 3 months pregnant, after all.

"Look, she grabbed me out of nowhere and just forced herself on me. I was trying to push her that's why my hands were around her head. Baby, I wouldn't do that to you. You know I only love you."

You were rendered speechless at his explanation. The ache in your chest dispersing as you calm down. He wrapped his arms around you, running his hands through your soft hair.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled, hiding your face in his chest. He smell so good beneath the smooth texture of his suit. Unknowingly to you, Oikawa's eyes were tightly shut as he bit his lips guiltily.

"It's just whenever I go to your workplace, I always see her sauntering around you. She's obviously trying to seduce you. That's why I asked you again and again to avoid her as much as possible. I don't want to lose you" Voicing out your insecurities made you feel vulnerable. But you know that being in a relationship require two parties involved to be honest with each other. Communication and trust remains the strong foundation of your marriage.

"I know, sweetheart. But tell me, who sent that picture to you?" He pulled back and just when you were about to answer, another chime from your phone took both of your attention.

You clicked it open. Oikawa right by your side as he curiously look at your text. You didn't mind it. There was nothing to hide from him anyway.

The message opened to reveal a video. Tapping the play button, it shows your husband furiously making out with the same girl in the earlier photo. They were situated in a corner, away from everyone as some of his coworkers were busily drinking.

You hands started shaking as tears unconsciously poured from your eyes. Feeling your husband tense from beside you only confirms your theory. The video soon ended and there was tense silence.

You looked up to see Oikawa with his head bowed, hair covering his eyes. Even from your position, you couldn't see his expression. But it didn't matter. The video says it all. You didn't bother asking for explanation this time.

Slowly, you begun untangling his arms around you. Letting out a hollow laugh, you shook your head in dismay.

Funny how you always laugh at those cliche movies whenever a girl experiences heartbreak. They always portray it as a physical pain, symtoms similar to a heart attack. But you deem it as bullshit. Sure, it hurts. But its impossible to feel that much pain just from losing the one you love, right?

So why does it feel like you're dying now? Your heart still beats. But it feels as if it was literally torn and stamp repeatedly. You tried to breath normally but something lodge in your throat and why can't you breath properly? Why does your lungs seem to stop working right when you need it most?

"Yn!"

"YN!!!"

Choking back a gasp, you return to reality as you see Oikawa panicking as he held you.

"Are you okay? Breath slowly, baby" He instructed, rubbing his hand soothingly on your back as you tried to regain your senses.

"Why, Tooru?" You finally gathered the courage to ask. The feeling of betrayal rang loud and clear on your hoarse voice and he winced from it.

"I'm sorry Yn. I'm sorry for lying. I got pretty drunk at the party. I lose control. We haven't done it for a while after you got pregnant and she was there and just flaunting around and kept rubbing me, saying things how she's going to make me feel good and I just- I!" He rambled, truth finally spilling from those lips you loved so much. His eyes were everywhere but you.

You didn't know what to feel. You asked for the truth, right? But you feel so much worse now.

"Are you blaming me for being pregnant, Tooru?"

"Shit, no Yn-"

"We planned this together! You said you wanted to build a family with me. And we both decided to refrain from any sexual activities while I'm in my early pregnancy to avoid any possible complications while the baby is being developed. We talked about it and we both agreed! So why are you turning it against me now?"

"I know it wasn't an excuse, Yn! And I know I'm wrong. God, I'm so wrong.Please, forgive me." Oikawa sobbed, tears cascading down the smooth expanse of his cheeks as he begged for your forgiveness.

"If you can't help yourself then maybe I shouldn't have agreed to have a baby with you!" You cried, anger radiating off you in waves.

"All those nights you came home late. Was it because you were taking your sweet time with her? Hm?" You smiled at him mockingly and his eyes widened in protest.

"No, Yn!" He tightly clutched your arms, desperately forcing you to hear him out, "Listen to me. I took all those overtime to gain extra money. That was in preparation for when our baby comes! Please believe me when I say it was for us!"

You looked at him with dull eyes. The aftermath of the fight just leaves you exhausted. You didn't know what to believe anymore. This was the man you had vowed to be with for the rest of your life. This was the man you wholeheartedly love and respect. Trust had always been your foundation, hasn't it?

Where has all the trust gone to?

You placed your hand on your belly. Wondering if he or she can feel the pain their father just bestowed to you. Hopefully not. You never want any harm nor pain come to your baby.

"I'm going to sleep. I'm tired." Coming up with a lame excuse, you turn to walk away when a hand firmly grasp your arms, not in a painful way.

"Lets talk about this, Yn. I don't want us to go to sleep tonight without resolving this issue." Oikawa pleaded with you, eyes begging for a chance. Any time, you will easily give in but after what happened, you don't know how to face him.

"I don't know what to say anymore, Tooru. I just want to rest." You smiled at him resignedly. Oikawa gritted his teeth. His heart throb painfully. How can you say that with such look on your face? Knowing that he caused your pain only increased the frustration and guilt running through his veins.

With a sigh, he unwillingly yielded to your request. Letting go of your hand, he watched your back face him as you slowly walked further away from him.

He will later learn that that was the biggest mistake of his life.

That night, both of you slept in the same bed as usual. Although a few inches only separates you, both your hearts were distanced with an invisible barrier. One trying to forget the pain it experienced, while the other trying to find ways to have you back to him.

It was dead silent. You were tilting in between reality and dreams when a sudden, sharp pain tore through your abdomen and you screamed in pain. Startling your husband who immediately checked on you.

"Yn-chan, are you okay? What happened!?" Oikawa asked, panic covering his features as he took in your pain filled expression. He felt the sheets wet and he clicked the bedside lamp open to see your side in bed covered in blood.

Your pupils dilated as you took in the sight. Another stabbing pain washed over you and you keeled in agony, stifling your screams. You barely felt Oikawa whisper comforting words to you before quickly lifting you up to bring you to the hospital.

My baby. No, I can't lose him/her. Was the only thought going through your mind.

"It hurts" you groaned in pain as Oikawa comfortingly grip your hand with one of his own as he drive with one hand. (AN: Not safe. Don't do this guys. Always drive safely)

"Take deep breaths, love"

"My baby" Sobbing in distress, you held on your stomach and Oikawa felt like vomiting. A lot has happened in the past couple of hours and the thought of something happening to your unborn child didn't help the queasy feeling in his gut.

"I'm here, Yn. Nothing will happen to you nor our baby." Pretending to be strong for the both of you, he forcefully blinked the tears forming on his eyes.

Everything happened fast after that. It was like everything was a blur for him. You were quickly taken in the emergency room before you were transferred to the operating room. The doctor and nurses explained what was happening to you and what they were about to do. He numbly agreed to what they say. Only repeated over and over again that they must save you.

Before long he found himself waiting outside the operating theatre. His ears were ringing as he looked at his surroundings. It was surreal. Like his body was there but his consciousness somewhere else. He was only brought back to reality when he felt harsh tugging on his shoulder.

"Oi, Oikawa get a grip on yourself!"

"Iwa-...chan..? How did you get here? "

"You texted me, did you forget?"

"Ah.. Right" Oikawa mumbled, blankly staring at nowhere in particular. He felt drained but the anxiety running on his body did not allow him to even get an ounce of rest as he waited for the news on his wife and baby.

Iwaizumi frowned. It was unusual to see his bestfriend so distraught. He still didn't know what happened after all, Oikawa only texted him that he was in the hospital after something happened to his wife. But he felt asking would be too insensitive on his part so he stay silent and tried to just be there for his bestfriend.

"It was my fault, y'know" Oikawa finally spoke after some time.

Iwaizumi patiently waited for him to continue, silently confused on Oikawa blaming himself.

"We had a fight. She saw me making out with the girl she hated from our company. Somebody sent her a video of it."

Iwaizumi was shocked. He knew Oikawa was a huge flirt back in their high school days but that he also outgrew it when he fall in love with Yn Ln. They were happy together and rarely had a fight as much as he knew. Or was it all a facade?

Suddenly, he felt anger rush through him at the foolishness of his bestfriend. Messing around when he knew his wife was pregnant! Iwaizumi opened his mouth to curse at his close friend when he was frozen at the sight.

Oikawa was staring at him with regret painted all over his face. Tears continuously fall on his cheeks. The usual light in his warm, soft eyes was gone and all that was left was an endless pit of misery and hopelessness.

"I screwed up, Iwa-chan" He whispered, defeated.

Flinching in response, Iwaizumi's anger quickly switch into sympathy for his friend as he assessed his poor condition.

"She's strong. Stop thinking on the worst scenario. Just focus on what you will do after this." While giving him a reassurring pat on the back. Oikawa released a shaky breath as he nodded at his friends' advice.

Suddenly, the doors to the operating room opened and a doctor wearing scrubs came out. Two nurses were by his side.

"We're looking for the husband of Yn, Ln"

"That is me"

Oikawa quickly stand up from his seat and approach the doctor. He was then escorted to an empty room where the two nurses silently left him and the doctor to discuss the aftermath of the procedure.

With his heart beating loudly, Oikawa eagerly fired questions to the doctor.

"How is she? How's my wife? My baby? Were you able to save them? When can I see them?"

The doctor resignedly took of his mask.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Oikawa-san but the baby didn't make it. Your wife had a spontaneous miscarriage. It has no specific cause. Women in their first trimester or early pregnancy are more prone to experience it that's why stress must be avoided at all times especially during this sensitive period in a womans' body."

Oikawa felt like being doused in cold water. He stayed frozen while staring at the doctor who looked grim. After seeing all that blood came out on his wife, he already knew deep inside that they lost the baby but he simply refused to believe it. He hang on to that tiny hope that maybe their unborn baby can be saved.

He shakily gulped, feeling his heart break. The pain was intense. They were looking forward to the arrival of their first child and for this to happen-

"What about my wife? Can I see her now?" He was hurting. Greatly. But he couldn't imagine how his wife was faring. She was the one carrying their child, after all. He wanted to comfort her and be there for her.

"I-" the doctor stopped and cleared his throat. Oikawa felt something amiss. Like an impending doom but he quickly tried to shoo the thought away.

"Doctor, how is she? I want to talk to her as soon as possible."

"That is another matter I must discuss with you, Oikawa-san."

The nerves were killing him and it took all his self restraint to not jump across the table and force the surgeon to speak at once.

"There was.. a complication while we were taking the fetus out of her. The amount of blood was greater than what it should been. We quickly transfused blood into her but it wasn't enough. We tried to resuscitate her but in the end she.. died due to heamorrhagic shock."

For a moment, Oikawa forgot how to breath. The world around him turn to black and white and the only words resounding in his mind was that she's dead, she's dead repeatedly.

It didn't fully sink in yet. Until he saw his wife, his beloved Yn, lying still in the operating room. Her face was pale under the glare of OR lights. And if he didn't know any better, it looks as if she is only sleeping peacefully after a long day. But as he caress her cold cheeks, no more warmth emanating from those cheeks he love to kiss so much, he was slapped with the bitter reality that she's not coming back.

No more warm smiles and sweet kisses from his wife as he return home after a long day at work. No more delicious meals waiting for him at the table as they talked about what happened during their day. No more cuddles and whisper of i love you's in the darkness of the night as they lay entangled from the after event of making love.

The perfect picture of a happy family with their son/daughter shattered in his mind as he loudly grieved for the loss of his family.

Kami-sama if you are real, please let me return back time. Let me be with my family again. Please give me a chance to make things right...

Oikawa loudly gasped as if coming back to land after drowning. He find himself gazing at the ceiling in their room. It was dark. Where was he?

A slight shuffle and then,

"Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare, Tooru?"

That sweet, melodious voice.

Oikawa slowly turn towards the source of sound to see, much to his relief, his beloved wife gazing at him with concern while rubbing the sleep out her eyes.

"Yn-chan" He choked, lunging at her to give her the tightest embrace.

"Woah there, big guy" You chuckled, patting his back. You stilled when you felt something wet trickled down your neck.

"I'm so glad! So glad to be with you, Yn!" The pure, raw emotion coming from your husband surprised you as he continued to sob on your neck, clinging to you like a lost baby.

"Please don't ever leave me again! Kami-sama, thank you for bringing her back to me!" Oikawa yelled, voice muffled as he continued to shove his face around your neck.

"What has happened to you, dear?" You worriedly asked and pull his face away to wipe some of his tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You suggested, talking about his nightmare.

"No need, love. I just want to say that I *kiss* love *kiss* you *kiss* so damn much!"

You giggled at his affection, loving his kisses.

"Oh and how many months are you again?"

"Silly, did you forget? I'm just two months along. 7 months to go"

Oikawa heaved a sigh of relief. Turning to your stomach, he leaned down and pulled up your shirt.

"Hey, little one. I'm so excited to meet you. But for now, be good for mommy, okay?" Placing a sweet kiss to your stomach, you smiled at your husbands' attention as you run your fingers through his hair. Oikawa gladly reciprocate your smile with his own.

This time, I'll love you with all of my heart. I won't make the same mistakes again. We will be a happy family, Yn.

Extended ending:

"Yes you heard it right. You're fired." Oikawa coldly said to his assistant. The one who destroyed his past life and made him and his wife suffer.

"But! I-" she whined pathetically, trying to win his sympathy by acting like a pitiful slut. But Oikawa was having none of it.

"I said. Get. Out." The fiery glare in his eyes send shivers down her spine and she immediately booked her way out of his office, whining like a bitch along the way.

Another extended ending:

7 months later, you tiredly smile at the little bundle of joy in your arms. After 18 hours of grueling labor, you finally had your healthy, baby boy.

"I'm so proud of you." Oikawa wiped the sweat along your forehead as he softly kissed you.

"Thank you for bringing our baby to this world. You make me the happiest person alive, Yn. I love you two so much and I swear to protect you both for the rest of my life." He whispered, tears springing in his eyes at the emotional moment.

"As do I, Tooru. As do I." You swore, sealing that promise with sweet kiss.

Fin

#haikyuu #haikyu #oikawa x reader #oikawa #tooru #readerinsert #reader #angst #xreader #timeskip #fluff #marriage #anime #haikyuu!

312 notes · View notes

wonlouvre · 3 years

Text

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 3.2k WARNINGS: ANGST, VIOLENCE, GUNS

a/n: we are nearing the end guys :( and i promise, it’s a HAPPY ENDING! but for now we have to face the angst, i’m so sorry. disclaimer!! as i have said from the previous parts, i am not well-versed with investigations and court procedures. PLEASE CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG. thank you very much!! please enjoy this new part and hit my ask box with what you think of it <3

nine: grief | masterlist

Wonwoo has had difficult times in his life and he has managed to overcome them all. Growing up in the public eye, fulfilling duties decreed to him even before he became a teen, a break-up, excelling both academically and physically and most of all, loving himself for who he is. He knows his parents did everything in their power and love to make it a little easier for him. They are the reasons he kept going and going.

But his heart can’t seem to carry this overwhelming heaviness.

His parents wanted to end the engagement immediately. It was an argument, an angry one. His mother had her ears closed even before he could speak meanwhile his father’s closed lips already said it all. Of course, he was defensive. He understands his parents concern for their citizens, but nothing is final until a verdict is reached. He has to come back to Jung and Sam and he has to come back to you. Surely enough, when he stepped out of the doors of his home, he had chosen love over duty.

It’s just that he didn’t know that you had different plans.

“Where’s the pretty lady?” Sam asks out of the blue while he plays with the new toys Wonwoo brought for the kids at the welfare.

He has been visiting them frequently, at least four times a week in between his hospital schedule. Especially after you decided that he should distance himself from you, he has been in and out of here because the boys are one of the only reasons he’s here other than you. He’s hoping you only meant a break if that’s what you wanted. Because he’d give it to you with as much distance as you want just come back to him. Come back to him because he doesn’t and can’t let you go.

“She’s a bit busy now,” he tries to make up an excuse and Sam raises his sparkling eyes at his face, probably searching for some truth in his lie.

“You look different when she’s around,” the young boy says and goes back to his toys.

Wonwoo’s ears perk and his brows knit in question. “What do you mean?”

“Jung thinks I don’t see it, but his face,” Sam explains and gestures to his tiny yet swelling cheeks. “It changes because of this girl here that I think he’s crushing.”

Wonwoo can’t help the growing smile on his face. “Jung has a crush?”

“Yes.” Sam bobs his head cutely. “You’re just like Jung with the pretty lady around.”

“How about now?” He asks the observant boy who purses his tiny lips before narrowing his eyes at him.

“You look a little sad.”

Wonwoo didn’t need to ask who’s the pretty lady Sam was talking about because to him, you’re the only pretty lady in his life (second to his mother of course even though she’s angry at him at the moment). He tried to not make it obvious. He doesn’t want anyone to see him that the controversy and your father’s arrest is breaking the two of you apart. He can’t let them see him falling apart for that matter because he wants you to see him confident and strong.

He doesn’t want to further fuel your doubts and fears. If he can’t support you closely, he’ll do his best to support you even from afar.

That’s why life for him continued. He goes to work, attends to his patients and co-workers needs, he eats, he exercises and he even entertains drinking with Soonyoung despite having to take care of him because of how fast he gets drunk.

It’s an ineffective distraction because he misses you terribly. He misses going to your office just to take you away from your computer, he misses driving around town with you in the passenger seat and listening to your stories, he misses sleeping over at your apartment after a tiring day shift, he misses your warm and welcoming embrace, he misses your shy and soft kisses against his lips, cheeks, nose, forehead, neck and everywhere else.

Did he tell you he misses you?

He sends you messages every day. He doesn’t call and he doesn’t wait for a reply. He just wants you to know that he’s here whenever you’re ready. Jeongyeon is kind enough to keep him in the loop, but the updates are very minimal because she’s still your subject and she doesn’t want to hurt you any further.

For a moment, Wonwoo was afraid to take the leap. But when you asked him if he still wants to marry you which could be equivalent to you ending things, he had to. If you stay or not, he had to say it with all his heart. You had to know because he was sure that whatever it is his whole being is feeling, it’s only for you.

“I love you.”

Your heart drops at his confession, making you sob to the palm of your hands. He can’t do this to you right now. It’s already hard and painful. You want to be selfish, but it would be wrong to let him suffer with you when he has been nothing but kind and honest.

“You’re not your father, Y/N,” he promises and holds your hands down. “Please look at me.”

You shake your head, sniffling. You want to scream you love him too. But the words are nothing but a lump at the back of your throat. You continue shedding your tears and the sight breaks Wonwoo’s heart.

“It’s okay.” He lifts your head up by your cheeks. He wipes your tears away even though it’s futile. He wishes to share with your anguish, but he also respects the desires of your heart.

His smile was small when he leans down and briefly presses a kiss to your trembling lips. You accept it, fearing it might be the last. You also listen to his last words before he leaves with his bag and coat because it also might be the last time you’ll ever hear them.

“I love you.”

The rain patters on the roof of the car when Wonwoo’s words echoed inside your head. Just the thought of what had transpired the last few days brings tears to your eyes. You haven’t seen him since that night and the longing is unbearable. You wish to hear his voice, feel his touch against you or just see him. But you can’t and you have to persevere through it because you owe justice and accountability to your people.

You haven’t spoken to your mother even if you tried. She’s just tired, so tired you can’t bring a word out of her. You try to be understanding and a little more patient. After all, getting over a betrayal doesn’t happen overnight. That’s why you continued working even though almost every client you have has backed down and declined your services. Nonetheless, you still go to your office every day as if everything is okay. You drink your coffee, you run over your files and even do a little organizing and disposing here and there.

Your father’s first trial is today and you’re on your way to speak to him at his detention center. This is the first time you’ll see him aside from the television and newspapers. You’ve been crying ever since he got taken away. You can’t help it. You already know the truth and there’s no blinding away from it. But you want to hear from your father, whom you thought you have known all your life. You want his truth and maybe find some closure.

When you arrive at the parking lot, the rain has ceased and little by little the temperature is rising again. You really wish things were different. Something in you wishes that this is a set-up. You wish that your father was innocent and only being framed. But there is a bigger something that’s telling you to throw away those wishful thoughts because it’s wrong.

You ask yourself, am I angry at my father? while walking to the entrance leading to the visitor’s area. I should be, right? You argue because your family name and career is tarnished. Your upcoming marriage is no different which is most likely to be over.

“Hi my darling,” The King, stripped from his expensive suit, greets you with his usual smile.

The glass between you and your father is clear enough to see that he doesn’t look good. Your father used to look every day ready with his suit on and slick back hair. But right now, he doesn’t. Tears well up in your eyes but you hold it in. It will take a long time to get used to seeing him like this. It will take a painfully long one.

Maybe you’re not angry. Maybe you’re just hurting.

“Hi dad,” you greet back. “How are you?”

The old man smiles and warms his thighs with his hands while looking around the small room. “I’m okay.”

You nod and the cold silence engulfs the room.

“I’m sorry darling,” he finally says and hearing those words made you burst into tears. He sees you crying and this is the first time he can’t reach his hand out to wipe the tears away. “I’m really sorry that your father’s greed has left you and your mother a wound that might never heal.”

Greed. The news, the Royal Police, the prosecution and everyone else were talking about this. They’re still talking about this. It’s scandalous, it’s controversial. It’s unbelievable too. How could the head and protector of the kingdom do this?

How could your father do this?

“Dad,” you sob. “Dad.”

“I know,” he tells you. “I know.”

“Please tell me they’re lying,” you begged, your voice shaking.

“I cannot betray you any further, my darling,” he sadly says. “I have to set you all free from my lies.”

You harshly rub your fingers against your eyes, trying to dry the tears that won’t stop from falling. “Who’s Kim Mingyu?”

The alarming buzz! blasts, indicating that your time’s up. You’re quick to your feet and hold your sweating palm against the glass. Your father mirrors your action but it didn’t last long because he was being handcuffed again.

“Remember,” he says, struggling a little against the two uniformed men. “You are your own person, my darling.”

Maybe you’re not hurting. Maybe you’re grieving because you just lost your father.

You know who Kim Mingyu is. You already knew before you could even ask your father. You just wanted to know how your father met him and entangled himself with such a man. What led him to fall for his lies and money that he could trade every ounce of dignity and integrity in his being? Something of that sort.

Kim Mingyu’s mining business was proposed to the Secretary of the Trade and Industry Department. A mining business that will have children go underground for long agonizing hours. At first, they were immediately rejected knowing that there’s an obvious and strict law disallowing foreigners to the kingdom’s mineral resources. Much more the exploitation of young children. But, Mingyu was ambitious and a sniper to every man's weakness. It didn’t take long for the Secretary of the Trade and Industry to bite. It was easily followed by the Secretary of the Justice Department and your father. They all, among many others, eventually fell for his trap. Everything worked out for Kim Mingyu.

Your hip is against the hood of the car as you watched the prison guards surround the vehicle your father will ride to the court. Everyone is on high alert. Well, they should be. No one else is more high profile than a criminal king. It’s only the first trial but you’re already more than aware of how things will turn out in the end.

You clutch the lifebuoy pendant of the necklace you’re wearing, nervous and trying to keep everything together.

You could leave now, but the time and opportunity to see your father is running out. This prison is the only place you could linger just to see him, even for a short while. You won’t be able to follow him at court because Seungkwan advised you not to. Which you understand. This whole case involving your father is already causing a media frenzy so staying away is the smart thing to do.

As you wait, your phone suddenly rings with an unknown number flashed on the screen. You blink, wondering who could it be at this hour. After a beat of hesitation, you answered and held the phone against your ear.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Princess Y/N. How’s the King doing?”

You’re not that forgetful to not recognize this voice. “Mr. Kim, how did you get my number?”

“That’s not important right now,” he dodges the question. “What’s important is what I am about to tell you.”

“What do you want from me?” You say with gritted teeth and from your peripheral you can see the guards scramble. Your father is about to come out.

You can hear him scoff. “I don’t want anything from you, Your Highness. But listen…”

Your heart starts to beat faster. It’s a hard visual but your father is nearing the exit. Your bottom lip is starting to hurt from how hard you’re biting it and the few seconds of pause and suspense that Mingyu’s giving you is not helping at all.

“Listen you sick---” He cuts you off and your blood runs cold.

“I’m going to kill your father.”

What is the fondest memory that you have of your father?

They’re too many to count and every memory with him, small and big, will always mean everything to you. But as an example, it would be the day you finally took oath as a lawyer. He didn’t tell you, but he, together with your mother, was secretly present at the venue. He told you beforehand that they shouldn’t go because he didn’t want the people to make you uncomfortable and steal the spotlight. You ignored his lame excuse of fame and told him that he can do whatever he wants.

But he was really there. Tears brimming on his eyes together with pride beaming on his heart. Your mother had to calm him down because he got a little out of control, almost screaming with all his chest at the venue that you’re his daughter.

You only found out when you hopped on the car and they’re inside with a small cake, flowers and party hats on, shouting loud congratulations and surprise simultaneously.

Your father was always there. Your parents were.

You remember those when you ran and pushed your way against the guards blocking your father’s view. You were frantic as you screamed at them to get your father back inside. You fought with all your strength and thrashed against their hold just to reach your father. When you slipped away from them, you ran again, fast.

You did your best to not get caught. You just have to be close to your dad and push him back inside. You just have to be close to him. You just have to protect him.

You have to be there for him.

“Please stop!” You shout when another guard takes hold of your waist, locking you to the ground. “You have to bring my father back inside!”

“You’re Highness, please calm down!” The guard shouts back and you fight against him. When he didn’t let you go, you stomped the heel of your shoe on his feet, making him fall in pain.

“Dad!” You call when you’re finally nearing him. His head lifts up at the sound of your voice and searches for you among the sea of men. “Please! You have to take him back inside! I received a call from Kim Ming---”

BANG!

It was searingly fast. Your whole body collapses on the sweltering concrete before you could reach your father and when his eyes finally find you, you are already swimming in the pool of your blood.

“It’s always good to see you Mrs. Wang,” Wonwoo compliments the old lady who’s starting to frequent the emergency room. “But not in this manner.”

The old lady gives him a cheeky grin and pinches one of his cheeks. If Wonwoo doesn’t know any better, she’s doing this to not get scolded any further.

“Your blood sugar is high and I don’t think your granddaughter appreciates her grandma endangering her own life,” he lightly scolds her, if that’s how he can put it. He’s still a doctor after all. “She loves you and she wants you to be healthy when she walks down the aisle in the future.”

Mrs. Wang gives him a silent nod at the mention of her granddaughter, promising that she won’t disobey anymore. That relieves Wonwoo, his lips lifting in a smile. He signs her clearance and hands it back to the nurse. After a few more instructions, he takes his leave and walks back to the information desk.

He takes one of the patients charts to read. The phone rings and the nurse in charge immediately picks it up and answers. At first, Wonwoo didn’t bother looking up from the paper because emergency calls happen every three seconds. But when there was an eerie silence amidst the loud and busy room, his curiosity made his head tilt up only to get surprised at the widened eyes the nurse was giving him.

He was about to ask what’s wrong but when he heard the sound of the siren nearing, he ignores his suspicions and runs to the entrance.

The ambulance parks at a safe distance and the paramedics get out. They move quickly to get the patient out and when they see him, their mouth falls open but no words come out.

Wonwoo didn’t notice so he proceeded to ask, “How’s the patient?”

“Wonwoo!”

Soonyoung almost tripped on his feet as he tried to get a hold of his friend. He takes his arms and tries to pull him away from the ambulance he’s about to open. Wonwoo is starting to get irritated at the bizarre and disconcerting feeling that’s starting to settle in the emergency room.

Wonwoo knocks him off with a glare. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Wonwoo, please,” Soonyoung begs with an unsteady voice, clinging to his friend.

“Female, late twenties, two gunshot wounds,” one of the paramedics finally yet carefully reports while the other opens the doors of the ambulance. “It’s Her Highness, Princess Y/N.”

Wonwoo roughly removes his friends hand from his arm to step closer to the ambulance and when he sees your lifeless body, he didn’t waste any more time and helped the paramedics move the stretcher out. Soonyoung can see his friend’s hands shaking as he takes hold of the bloodied gurney. He knows he has to stop him right now.

“Baby,” Wonwoo calls as he runs and wheels you inside. You can’t hear him, but he has to try. He observes proper protocol of transferring you to the bed of the emergency room before applying more pressure to your wounds. You have lost a lot of blood already and it’s not helping Wonwoo that he can’t see your eyes.

“Please, please, please,” Wonwoo whispers as he removes all the obstructions on your body and when his eyes catch the necklace he gave around your neck, his legs grow weak and removing it from you made his tears fall.

“Baby, please,” he pleads. “Open your eyes, hmm?”

Soonyoung steps in together with the doctor who will perform the surgery and take everything from here. He slowly pulls his friend away from your body. Wonwoo didn’t protest anymore, there’s nothing in him left to do so. Your blood is in his hands, in his white coat, it’s everywhere.

This is not the distance Wonwoo wanted.

He can’t be apart from you forever.

#seventeen #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen imagines #wonwoo imagines #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #seventeen imagine #wonwoo imagine #seventeen angst #wonwoo angst #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo seventeen #fic: ifliys

336 notes · View notes

ifmywishescametrue · 3 years

Note

"You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better." for buckytony pls 🤓

thank you for sending one! it got kind of out of hand lol so here's 2.2k of breaking up and making up. hope you like it!

Tony loses track of what the fight is about fairly quickly. He knows it started with what seemed like playful bickering, the kind their relationship was practically built on, but somewhere along the way the jabs turned much more pointed. Barbed wire wrapped around them, until each one was like a knife wound.

The first real cut came from him, he knows. Bucky's witty comment hit a little too close to one of his hundred insecurities, and reflex made him return it with too much sharpness. He can't blame Bucky for reacting, but they're both to blame for letting it get this out of hand. That’s not something that matters in the moment, though.

In the moment, all that matters is the careless insults and merciless words they lob back and forth. They chip away at each other and their relationship until it’s crumbling around them, but even that doesn’t matter. It becomes secondary to getting in the last word and one-upmanship, like it’s a competition for who can hurt who the most that they both desperately want to win, consequences be damned.

“You know this is why people keep leaving you,” Bucky says. “At some point it should be pretty damn obvious that it's you, not them.”

Tony laughs bitterly because the only other choice is crying. “Cause you're a real fucking prize, right? Bet people are just lining up to date a guy they're barely allowed to touch. And God forbid you ever try to do something nice for him, because it'll never actually be right.”

“Better than a guy with daddy issues so severe it'll take him two years to even tell you he loves you. Don't bother saying it in the meantime to him either, because he'll run off to hide for a week after each time.”

“Well, you know what, I'll make it easy for you, then,” Tony says, backing away to grab his jacket. “You don't have to worry about me and all my issues anymore.”

He forcefully shoves his arms into the sleeves and grabs his keys from the hook by the door. Bucky watches with a clenched jaw and doesn't try to stop him, not even when he pauses to give him the chance.

“What are you waiting for? Go ahead and run off. Prove my point.”

Tony shakes his head, an ache already forming in his chest that he ignores. “I’m not proving your point, because this isn’t running. This is breaking up with you because you’re a fucking asshole.”

He lets the door slam shut behind him and speedwalks down the hall, repeatedly pushing the elevator button. It doesn’t come quickly enough, and he flings open the door to the stairwell to rush down them. His vision blurs dangerously, and he can hardly see where he’s going, but he doesn’t slow down. The tears come freely with no around to see, until he’s out on the sidewalk and violently swipes them away with the back of his hand. He doesn’t pay attention to where he’s walking, only on getting as far away as possible.

Where he ends up shouldn’t come as a surprise to him. It’s muscle memory to come here at this point, a walk so familiar he could do it in his sleep and still manage to avoid all the cracks and uneven parts on the sidewalk on the way.

He stands outside of Shield’s Bar, neon lights coloring his face blue and pink, and he contemplates going in. It’s a Thursday, which means Clint is working the bar until midnight. Natasha will be waiting tables, and Steve will come in to replace her at ten.

All Bucky’s friends. He won’t get any of them in the breakup.

Steve will be the first to turn his back on him with his unwavering loyalty to his best friend. Clint will follow next because he hates tension and it’s the easier side to take. Natasha will be last, and she’ll claim that she loves them both and choosing sides is childish and ridiculous. But she’ll go, too, eventually. When none of her other friends will be in the same room as him, and all of their usual hangout spots become off limits. It’ll grow awkward and uncomfortable until promises to meet up turn into vague excuses and texts spaced months apart.

But where does he have to go if it isn’t here?

Rhodey’s on base in California, and Pepper moved back to New York the second her business degree was done. Staying in Boston was never the plan, not until Bucky and his found family welcomed him into their lives and made it feel like home. Where is there to go if home isn’t an option anymore?

He stands there long enough that people start to whisper as they pass by. They must think he’s lost his mind, staring blankly at a brick wall and hardly blinking, but he doesn’t hear what they say. Doesn’t hear anything but his own thoughts running in circles, going from anger to regret to shame and back again.

He wonders if Bucky’s right. If he truly is the reason it never works out. He knows he’s too insecure and emotionally unavailable. He demands too much and gives too little in return and doesn’t know how to communicate.

He used to watch his parents fight, orbiting around each other with avoidance and unspoken words until the dams broke and silence turned to screams, and he would swear that he would be better. If he was lucky enough to be in love with someone and have them love him in return, he would understand just how rare and beautiful that is and never take it for granted.

Easier said than done. Harder to face the fact that sometimes his words sound exactly like his father’s once did and sometimes he feels like his mother when he quietly lets himself be walked on and overlooked. The worst of both of them is tangled up inside of him, and it always kills whatever he touches.

Natasha finds him there eventually. She opens the door roughly, with intention that falters momentarily before she asks, “Do you plan on coming in at some point or are you staying out here all night?”

“I should probably go,” he says, quietly enough that it’s nearly lost to the wind.

Natasha watches him for a long moment, then steps out of the doorway to take his hand. She leads him over to an empty booth and slides into the opposite side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

She shrugs, “Steve will be here in a few minutes. No one’s going to die if they have to wait for their beer.”

Silence stretches on, and he stares down at his hands on the table. It’s warmer inside the bar, and he doesn’t realize that the cold has turned his fingers numb until they begin to unthaw.

“People coming in here were talking about some guy loitering outside. Some were saying he looked sad, some said lost. A few less optimistic people voted for strung out on drugs, but I think it’s safe to rule that one out now. Same with lost, seeing as you’ve been here a thousand times. That leaves sad, which means you had a fight with Bucky, and you didn’t come in, which means you think it’s your fault. Am I right so far?”

Tony nods, hanging his head low, and she continues to ask, “Do you want to talk about it or drink about it?”

“We broke up,” Tony mumbles. “I did it.”

She takes a long breath, and her hand is warm when it slips back into his. “Are you planning on fixing it?”

“Not sure it’s fixable. I said some things, he said some things. Can’t really take any of it back now.”

“People say things they don’t mean all the time. Doesn’t make it unforgivable.”

He shrugs like his heart isn’t broken. “Maybe it’s better off this way.”

Natasha sighs, “Tony.”

“What?”

“Go home.”

“Pretty sure I don’t have one of those anymore.”

“Of course you do,” she says softly. “I promise you that he wants you to come back.”

Tony shakes his head. “You weren’t there, Nat. You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened to know that he wants you to come home. If he feels even half as terrible as you look, he wants you. Just because you broke up doesn’t mean it’s over. It’s only over if you don’t go back.”

Tony bites his lip to keep it from quivering, and he asks, “What if you’re wrong? What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

“Well, it can’t exactly make things worse, can it?”

He huffs a humorless laugh, “I guess not.”

Natasha slides out of the booth, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Go home before he comes out looking for you, and text me in the morning to tell me I was right.”

She walks away, greeting Steve as he comes in, and Tony lingers there for another minute before getting up. He waves to them both on his way out and tries not to think about what she’ll tell Steve about his reason for being there.

The walk back to his and Bucky’s apartment seems quicker than the walk away from it, and Tony resents it for not giving him more time.

He takes the stairs again and hesitates outside the door, what ifs overwhelming his mind. What if he walks in and all of his things are packed up for him? What if Bucky isn’t even there or all of his belongings are gone instead? What if he can’t fix it and this is where it really ends? He doesn’t know if he could recover from that.

Turning the key in the lock, he opens the door slowly and holds his breath in trepidation.

Nothing looks different. No packed boxes, no smashed picture frames, no sign that anything ever went wrong.

Bucky is on the couch, curled into the corner with his legs held tight to his chest, and he doesn’t seem to notice that he isn’t alone anymore. It’s painfully quiet, and the single light that was on before isn’t enough now that it's grown darker outside, but he hasn’t turned any others on.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says into the silence. It’s as good a place as any to start. “You didn't deserve that. Any of it. The whole stupid thing. You deserve so much better. I should be better at this, but I’ve done a real shit job of it lately, I think. Maybe not even lately. Maybe I’ve been a terrible boyfriend the whole time, and in that case you should probably tell me to go and not come back, but I’d like to think there were at least moments where I was sort of okay, and I’d like to try to be more than just okay if you’ll let me.”

Bucky stares at him, lips parted and red-rimmed eyes unblinking. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Tony freezes, unsure of how to answer that, and Bucky unfolds himself to walk over and stand in front of him.

“You broke up with me,” Bucky says.

“Yes, but I -”

“No,” he interrupts. “You broke up with me.”

Tony frowns in confusion and slowly says again, “Yes.”

“That means I do the grovelling here, because I fucked it up. I beg for the second chance, because I crossed the line so far that you left. And I did it on purpose, too, because I had a shit day so I pushed until you pushed back,” Bucky explains. “And apparently I did such a good job being horrible to you that you think it’s your fault.”

Tony tries to process that, but it’s taking some time to work through. A complete turn around on his thoughts that almost makes him dizzy.

“Why did you have a shit day? What happened?”

“Is that really what you’re focusing on in all of that?” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief and runs a hand through his hair. “God, it’s you that deserves better. That’s what I’m telling you here. You were right to leave, and I should be the one telling you I’m sorry.”

“You had a bad day and took it out on me. How many times have I done the same to you? You never once left.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“No,” Tony agrees. He reaches for one of Bucky’s hands, because he needs the contact and has a feeling that Bucky does too. “But it doesn’t mean it’s not worth working on. I meant what I said about wanting to be better for you.”

Bucky nods, looking down at their joined hands. “I want to be better for you, too. How do we do that?”

“A lot of talking about our feelings, probably.”

Bucky pulls a face. “God, that sounds terrible.”

Tony laughs, taking his other hand to pull him in closer, “Yeah, it does, but we’ll get better at it eventually.”

“Can we start tomorrow?” Bucky asks. He leans down to rest his forehead against Tony’s. “I’d really like to just hold you tonight.”

“Yeah, baby,” Tony murmurs. “Hold me tonight. It’ll be better in the morning.”

#buckytony #winteriron #my fic #my writing #prompts #prompt fill #warmachinesocks

166 notes · View notes

shuadotcom · 3 years

Text

Memories of You | KSJ

❧ Summary: Your memories with Seokjin are some of your favorite.

❧ Pairing: Seokjin x Female!Reader

❧ Genre/AU: Fluff, established relationship

❧ Rating: NC-17

❧ Warnings: Some profanity, a very brief sex scene that’s not super descriptive, brief mention of a stalker

❧ Words: 2.4k

❧ Note: Happy belated birthday Mars baby! @joheunsaram. I’ve been working on this slowly and it’s finally here for you! I was so torn on who in hyung line to have this be about, but I’ve seen you in Discord talking an awful lot about Seokjin lately so I went with him! Enjoy some painfully fluffy fluff! 💝 And thank you to the always wonderful @bangtanhome for being my beta so last minute! 💜

“Hey, so, I don't want to be rude or anything, but your skirt is tucked into your underwear.”

Seven years ago this was the first thing Seokjin ever said to you on your first day at your new office. You were nervous going into the day, having just transferred to this branch, moving across the world to manage a new group of people in a new country.

You were just leaving the bathroom and can remember the way your face heated up and how quickly you ran back into the bathroom, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you wished you could disappear. Not only had your day only started, but your new coworker that pointed out your embarrassment just so happened to be exceptionally handsome.

After splashing some water on your face and taking a few deep breaths, you exited the ladies’ room to see the man standing outside, hands in the pockets of his slacks. He lifted his gaze from the floor and met yours. There was something about the way your eyes locked that made your face flush all over again as your heartbeat sped up. You couldn't properly describe what you felt at that moment, but it was something.

“Um, hi,” he cleared his throat and offered his hand out to you. “I'm Seokjin.”

“Y/n,” you managed. His hand was warm and soft and you didn't want to let go.

“I'm sorry about what happened. I just… I didn't want you to walk around like that. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who saw it anyway, but I wanted to keep it that way.”

“T-thank you.” Your hands were still connected and neither of you made a move to let go. It wasn't until an older woman you knew to be the manager of another team cleared her throat, making you both separate. She pushed past you into the bathroom with a look of annoyance. You and Seokjin share a look before laughing.

“So we don't offend any more people, would it be okay if I walked you to your office? I’d be more than happy to give you a grand tour of the building this afternoon if you want.”

“That'd be great.” Seokjin smiled wide at your words and led the way. During the short walk, you learned he’s been with the company for three years and he promised to brief you on everyone and everything there is to know about being here. Once you arrive at your office door, you locked eyes again before he said goodbye and turned to go back to his desk. Your earlier nervousness and hesitancy melted away at the prospect of this new person in your life.

“As soon as you texted me your address, I knew exactly where you lived.”

Seven years ago that was the first thing Seokjin said to you on your first date. You remember the panicked look on his face after the words left his mouth.

“Wait, I didn't mean it like that! I promise that I haven't been stalking you! One of my best friends named Namjoon lives in the same apartment building as you. He's up on the third floor so I've been there a lot. Please don't hate me or hit me or leave me or do any combination of the three! I swear, we can go back right now and go to his apartment and ask him!” Seokjin looked genuinely terrified as he glanced between you and the road with wide eyes.

Honestly, you found the whole thing amusing.

“Seokjin, I believe you.”

“Y-you do?”

“Yes, it's not that serious. I was stalked back home for a little bit and as soon as I met the guy, I knew he was kind of off. I get no vibes like that from you.”

Seokjin let out a sigh of relief, but then his face frowned again as he gently asked about the stalker you mentioned. You were at a point where you could talk about it and went on to tell him about the man that had been in your college creative writing class. He was always interested in your writing and was always asking you questions about it. You were only classmates and never anything more, but you had gotten a bad feeling about him the first time you spoke to him.

Your early hunch was right of course when two months into the class you found out that he had been following you home for weeks. He would also follow you to work and even monitor your social media usage. You weren’t sure how long it would've gone on if he hadn't broken into your home one night and climbed into your window at the exact moment that your roommate walked into the room.

You felt yourself shiver as you retold the story. Seokjin's arm immediately came up and draped over your seat, hand grazing your shoulder. He pulled you closer to him and you instantly felt protected; like an invisible shield had formed around you because of him. It was surprising, but you didn't question it. You hugged your sweater closer to your body and stayed in his embrace as he drove.

“Happy birthday, Y/n. I'm going to kiss you now.”

Six years ago that was what Seokjin said to you right before you shared your first kiss. You’d been on two dates up until that one. You’d held hands and hugged of course, and the last time he dropped you off in front of your apartment door, he kissed your forehead. That night was not only date number three, but also your birthday.

Seokjin caressed your cheek before tilting your chin up. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips before he brought his mouth to yours. The kiss was sweet and you could smell his sweet cologne and feel how soft and plump his lips were. You quickly let your tongue dart out and rub against his lips. Seokjin was surprised but wasted no time in opening his mouth as your hands lightly grabbed his hair and he firmly held your hips. His mouth was warm and he tasted like sweet cream and strawberries from your birthday cake which sat forgotten on the floor next to you.

The sounds of the city that had been busy around you a few minutes ago quieted down and everything felt fuzzy. It was such a cliche, classic romance movie moment, but you were okay with that. You could criticize everything later; for at that moment, you were busy feeling something wonderful you had never felt before.

True love.

“I love you so much and I want you to feel good.”

Six years ago that was what Seokjin said to you during your first time making love. He said he loved you a year into the relationship so that wasn't new. This was the first time it made you feel this warm throughout every part of you. He was between your legs, peppering kisses down the inside of your thighs. He had already prepped you with his mouth and fingers, now you were just waiting for him.

“I love you so much. Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" You nodded and opened your legs a little more.

Seokjin positioned himself at your entrance before he began slowly entering you. It stung just the slightest as you felt yourself being stretched more than ever, but it wasn't enough for you to want to stop. When he was sheathed inside of you as far as he could fit, he held onto your hips as you reached up to grip his biceps. He leaned down and kissed you as he began thrusting, starting slowly before moving quicker, causing you to make sounds that seemed much more obscene compared to the tender moment.

The whole thing was over rather quickly, much to your shared dismay. You were both simply too excited to finally feel each other, that neither of you lasted very long. After ever so gently pulling out of you, he laid next to you and brought you close to his chest. A few tears slipped from your eyes, but they stemmed from happiness and nothing else. You felt incredible and so loved and it was all because of Seokjin.

“I fucking hate the fact that you keep talking to him and that you don't even care about my feelings!”

Five years ago that was what Seokjin said to you during your first real fight. You’d been through a few small disagreements here and there since you moved into Seokjin's much more spacious apartment. It was always over what to make for dinner or what color to paint the extra room he had or about one of you working late at the office. You were still technically in your honeymoon phase until about a week prior. A handsome new employee just started and had befriended you which Seokjin hated.

“How can you say I don't care about your feelings?! Your feelings are one of the most important things to me!”

“Well, then why are you still talking to Jungkook?! He likes you and you don't believe me! The way you're being nice to him, it's leading him on and you're acting like you're too stupid to know! You're a smart girl Y/n, open your damn eyes!”

“It's not my fault you're so goddamn insecure! Not all of my friends want to get in my pants!” Neither of you spoke then, instead opting to just stare at each other.

Seokjin moved first, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack by the door. “I'm going to Namjoon’s tonight. I'll call you when I can think clearly and continue this discussion.” He left without another word, slamming the door behind him.

“Fine, asshole!” You yelled at the closed door. You lowered yourself onto the couch and before you could help it, you were letting out quiet sobs. You were frustrated, confused and so many other things. Every couple was bound to have a first big fight about something, but it still hurt. You couldn't do anything but wait until Seokjin came home.

“I love you, Mrs. Kim.”

Two years ago that was what Seokjin said to you on your wedding day. You ended up having two weddings, one in Korea and the other in your hometown. Your friends and family looked on with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes at the sight of you. The wedding was simple yet beautiful as you glowed in your dress.

“I love you too, Mr. Kim.” You say, leaning up to kiss him. At that moment, you felt like everything was right in the world.

“Just keep pushing, you can do it, baby."

A year ago that was what Seokjin said to you as you gave birth to your first child. He was right next to you, holding onto your hand and wiping your forehead with a cloth. You had an iron grip on his hand as you pushed as hard as you could. All it took was one more push and another blood-curdling scream from you before the baby was out and in the arms of a nurse.

"It's a baby girl." Both you and Seokjin watched the crying baby as she was cleaned off and brought over to you. The little girl had her father’s wide, brown eyes and your nose. She stopped crying and was simply staring up at her parents.

"Hello little one, I'm your mommy."

"And I'm your daddy."

The baby continued to stare before opening her mouth and letting out a scream that surprised you both.

"She has quite the set of lungs on her!" Seokjin struggled to say over the screaming child.

"She does! And she's all ours!" You smiled up at him, your heart filling with happiness and love for the small child in your arms. The joy you felt now with your little family was indescribable.

"The past seven years have been the best of my life and I'm so beyond lucky to have been able to spend them with you."

An hour ago that was what Seokjin said to you at your anniversary dinner. While you’ve only been married for two years, you always celebrate the first day you met; when Seokjin’s first caught sight of your purple striped panties.

Once your daughter is settled into her crib, the two of you go into your bedroom and lay in bed together, still clad in your formal clothes. Your head is against his chest and his arms are around you.

"Babe, I have a confession," Seokjin starts.

"Hmm?"

"I wanted to ask you out on that day, you know - the day we met. You were so flustered and cute, but I thought I’d scare you even more if I did, so I held back."

"I was flustered and cute huh? Sure it wasn’t just the free panty shot I gave you?”

Seokjin gives you a flat expression. "No, smart ass. You caught my attention as soon as you stepped into the room. Then I overheard you later in the day talking to someone at lunch about the plans you had for the year and how excited you were to meet everyone on the team. You sounded so confident in yourself and your leadership. After that, I had it all planned out in my head. I was going to eat lunch with you and drop a very suave pick-up line about how we should go out sometime."

You snort and glance up at him. "Lucky for you I embarrassed myself when I did. I've heard your pick-up lines and no matter how attractive I thought you were I don't think younger me would've been that entranced to fall for it." Your comment earns you a few tickles to the ribs, a laugh bubbling out as you flinch away from him.

"Yeah well, now you're stuck with me and my bad pick-up lines forever." He places a kiss on your forehead and drapes one of his long legs over yours.

The word 'forever' fills you with glee. You consider yourself lucky every day that you’re able to say you’ll get to spend the rest of your life with this man. Seokjin isn’t perfect and you’ve been through many things over the years as a couple, but at the end of the day, the joy and love that you feel when you’re with him means more to you than anything. Knowing you've found the person you want to and are going to spend the rest of your life with is the best feeling in the world.

#hyunglinenetwork #clubzerooclock #btsnoonanet #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #bangtanarmynet #52hertz #btshoneyhive #btsgoldnet #thebtswritersclub #bangtaninn #magicshopnet #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin fluff #jin fluff #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin

91 notes · View notes

fallen-gravity · 3 years

Text

Aftermath

A whole summer later, and Mabel's still having nightmares about being trapped in her bubble. One unfortunate morning, Ford just happens to be the one who overhears her crying in her sleep.

Notes:

A huge, huge shout out to @ariasofelegance

A little white ago I reblogged a silly post that said something like "come into my inbox and tell me what my writing brand is", and without hesitating she dragged me into the dirt. Got me so on the nose that it backfired and whoops, I wanted to write it.

Said ask can be found here

Hope you’re happy with the results, Rin ;)

AO3

It’s the sound of sugary pop music seemingly wafting in through her bedroom window that wakes Mabel first. She assumes it’s just an alarm she doesn’t remember setting, and frantically waves her arm out for her nightstand so she can turn it off and go back to sleep for another minute or ten.

Then it’s the fact that her hand smacks something that squeaks, and okay, maybe Waddles accidentally left one of his toys in her room. He’s got plenty, so she can shrug off that as long as it’s not his favorite then he can go another few minutes without it. She’ll bring it downstairs to him when she wakes up, or if Dipper rises before her he can bring it downstairs instead.

It’s fine. She can brush those things off, and to prove it to herself she turns over on her other side and brings her blanket up to cover her ears. If anyone needs her they’re gonna have to climb the stairs all the way up to the attic and tell her themselves. She smiles to herself at the thought, and settles easily back into her sleep.

It doesn’t really click that something’s…off until the sun shines in through her window. Despite knowing that she’s facing away from her window, the sunlight still pierces through Mabel’s blanket and lands right into her eyes. Even for the mid-summer Oregon sun she’s gotten accustomed to, it’s uncomfortably warm and unreasonably bright for so early in the morning.

…Stranger still, she’s sure that Dipper would’ve already complained about it before she did, or at the very least, she’s sure she already would’ve heard him shuffling around the room by now.

Mabel takes it to mean that he must already be awake and downstairs, and groans. It still doesn’t explain why the sun is so painful in her eyes, but she guesses that could be a result of her sleeping in later than she’s used to.

“Alright, universe, you got me” Mabel mumbles, and stretches as she finally pushes herself into a sitting position. Opening her eyes is a bit tougher with the sun still harshly shining into them, but it’s manageable, and…

…This doesn’t look like the attic.

She attempts to rub the sleep out of her eyes, in case she’s still not fully awake yet, but no, the image in front of her still doesn’t change. She’s about to try standing up to see if walking around will help snap her out of her haze, but before she can even kick her feet over the edge her bedroom door swings open.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Mabel sighs. “Can you close the window? I can’t see a thing”

“Sure thing, Miss Mabel!” a cheery voice that is decidedly not Dipper’s replies, and with a snap of their fingers the lights go out. Now that her eyes finally adjust, Mabel’s able to glance around her room, and…

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no.

There are stone statues of her face in every corner of her room, piles of rainbow plushies stacked all over the floor, a collage of sweaters all over the wall, inflatable furniture scattered everywhere, and most notably, a large rug with a bright shooting star embroidered into the center.

“Miss Mabel?” the strange voice asks again, and a bright pink hippo steps into view towards her bed. “Is everything okay?”

Mabel frantically scoots backwards in her strange bed. “Stay back!” she tries to shout, but everything comes out as more of a panicked waver. “Stay back or I’ll grapple hook you in the face!” she frantically pats all around her body for any sign of her trusty weapon.

The hippo tilts its head in confusion, a squeak emerging from it. “Oh, Miss Mabel, you’re a riot! Don’t you remember?”

Mabel freezes in her frantic patting. “Remember what?”

The strange hippo laughs. “Our volleyball match! You promised you’d play with me, but then you took a suuuper long nap instead!”

Mabel shakes her head. It can’t be. It can’t be. She knows Dipper already came to rescue her, she knows they already took the bus back to Piedmont together, she knows they promised to stick together through thick and thin.

Or…did they? What if that was all part of this sick fantasy too? What if Bill just made her believe that Dipper came to her aid, when he’s actually been captured, or hurt, or worse, and Bill is still pacifying her for as long as he can to keep Weirdmageddon going?

She can’t breathe. She tugs at the collar of her turtleneck, but that only makes things worse, because it’s not until she notices the hot pink of her collar that she realizes she’s wearing her shooting star sweater. She wants to rip it off and claw at it until it comes apart thread by thread.

“M-Miss Mabel?”

She has to get out of here.

“Of course!” she replies, just to avoid suspicion. “Let’s go play some volleyball!” She claps loudly, and the pink hippo grins, seemingly unfazed by her behavior.

“Great!” it beams, and bounces happily out the door. Mabel follows more slowly, casting nervous glances everywhere she looks for any signs of creeping yellow eyes.

“Oh, shoot!” the hippo shouts once they’re outside, and Mabel nearly jumps a mile out of her skin.

“What is it?”

“We don’t have enough players,” the hippo pouts. “I can go see if I can find anyone who-”

“No!” Mabel shouts, and a few beachgoers freeze to cast glances her way. She blushes, and tries again. “I...I mean, we could always get my brother to play with us! Where’s my good ol’ twin brother?”

For the briefest of moments the hippo’s eyes flash yellow, but they’re back to normal just as quickly.

“Over here, sis!” Dippy Fresh waves, approaching them on his skateboard.

Mabel steps back, shaking her head. “Where’s my real twin brother?”

The crowd of beachgoers begins murmuring uncomfortably to each other.

“Aww, c’mon sis, don’t be like that!” he grins, jumping off of his skateboard and taking a step closer.

“You’re not my real brother” she hisses. “None of this is real! I know it isn’t!”

She’s shouting now, but she doesn’t care. “Come out and face me yourself, Bill! I know you’re out there! I don’t want to take part in this sick fantasy anymore!”

Everyone around her gasps, and between one breath and the next she’s painfully tackled to the ground.

“Mabel Pines!” an unfamiliar voice shouts, mixed seamlessly with the shrill echo of Bill’s. “Not only have you broken the one and only law of Mabeland, you have also spoke up in defiance of Bill Cipher, the true creator of this land. A simple court trial will not be enough. For these transgressions, you will be taken straight to the Fearamid for proper punishment”.

Mabel’s face pales. “W-wait! I was only just kidding!” She pleas, but a strong pair of arms is already lifting her into the air. She kicks and thrashes, but no matter how much she fights back, more pairs of hands seem to grab onto her and keep her in place.

“No!” she shouts. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise! I’ll do anything you guys want! I’ll never leave you again!”

“It’s too late!” Bill’s voice finally separates itself from the crowd, and he manifests himself in front of her. He lifts her into the air, and she starts thrashing even harder, but nothing she’s doing is working to free herself from her grip.

At the very back of her mind, she thinks she can hear someone shouting her name. But she’s sure that’s all just part of the illusion, that Bill’s using the sound of her own family against her to torture her one last time before she never sees them again, and-

Something brushes against her forehead.

Something soft, and warm, and comforting, and so humanlike compared to everything else around her that it’s enough to make the every single aspect of the illusion disappear into thin air all at once, even Bill himself.

Everything’s black, and then, with a blink of her eyes, she’s staring into Ford’s eyes, soft and loving and pooling with worry. It doesn’t take long for her to piece together that it’s his hand on her forehead.

“Mabel?” he asks, and she realizes quickly that it had been his voice shouting her name in the bubble.

She gasps, bolting upright, and does her best to recover her breathing. Ford doges out of the way to avoid smacking heads, but stays right where he is beside her, rubbing soothing little circles into her back.

Her throat hurts. She must’ve been shouting in her sleep. She wants to cry, but she can’t even do that right, because the moment a sob tries to escape her throat her chest feels like it’s closing up, and she can’t take a breath anymore, no matter how much air she inhales.

“It’s okay,” Ford whispers to her. “Deep breaths”

Mabel shakes her head. “I…I can’t”

“Yes you can,” he replies, firmly but kindly. He scooches closer to her, slowly as not to re-startle her. “Mabel, look at me”

She does. His eyes are so soft, conveying so many grounding, human emotions that the single moment of eye contact alone is almost enough to completely ground her back to reality. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, once she’s finally able to maintain eye contact without her eyes trembling. “You’re awake, I promise” he offers his hands out to her. “Reach out and squeeze my hands if you need to, but I promise that I really am right here”

Mabel reaches out and takes his hands in her own. They’re so much bigger than hers, and they’re rough with calluses and there’s quill ink stuck under his nails, but they’re so comfortably the hands of her great uncle, all the way down to the extra sixth finger on each hand that the sob stuck in her throat finally breaks its way through. He’s not just another illusion, he’s not a perfect copy that Bill sent to keep her complacent, he’s just…Grunkle Ford.

Mabel throws herself into his arms as her sobs overwhelm her small body. She buries her face into the collar of his turtleneck, and forces her eyes to focus on a little loose strand sticking out at the back of his neck. It’s just a tiny little imperfect detail that could easily be snipped or sewn back into place, but a little imperfection like that to let her know she’s home is more comforting than she’s willing to admit.

Ford wraps his arms around her and holds her closely. He gently runs a hand through her hair, whispering I know and it’s okay over and over again into her hair, and she just buries her whole face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of coffee and ash and ink coming from his sweater like it’s a lifeline.

She stays in his embrace until her sobs finally calm, and they pull away gently. She wipes at her nose with her wrist.

“I’m sorry”

Ford shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, dear. I know firsthand just how awful it feels to suffer through a panic attack alone”.

Alone?

She glances to the other side of the bedroom, and finds Dipper’s bed empty. Her heart drops to her stomach. “Wh-where’s..?” she starts, but Ford places a gentle hand on her shoulder before she can finish that train of thought.

“Dipper’s okay, he’s outside with Soos”

“Grunkle Stan?”

“He ran out to the store, but he’s okay too”

Mabel buries her face into her hands. “You didn’t…come in here because you could hear me from downstairs, did you?”

Ford shakes his head, a fond smile itching to spread across his face. “I came upstairs when I’d heard you were still asleep and didn’t want my favorite niece to miss out on such a beautiful morning,” he pauses, the smile on his face vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. “But then when I came in to wake you up, you looked like you were having a panic attack in your sleep, and…” his voice trails off. “You started…crying out names.” He winds a protective arm around her shoulder, and gently squeezes her arm. “I’d never want to make you recount something so awful, but if you want to talk about it, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon”

Mabel sighs. It isn’t even close to being the first dream she’s had about the bubble, so she should be used to all of these strange feelings by now. But this particular dream felt the most based in reality, and it’s the first time Bill’s actually shown up and threatened to hurt her to her face.

She returns his gesture, winding an arm around Ford’s back and giving his arm a gentle squeeze. She scooches just a tiny bit closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder. “I…” she begins, squeezing her eyes shut to brace herself. “I was trapped in Mabeland again. Except it wasn’t like all the other times I’ve had nightmares about it where I knew something was off and I hit the ground running as soon as I realized where I was, it was more like…I felt like I’d always been there.”

With her free hand, Mabel brings the collar of her sweater all the way up to her nose. Anything to distract her from her uncle’s worried expression burning into her. “It was like everything we did last summer was for nothing. I woke up in my bed in the castle, and everyone was acting like it was peachy keen. I tried asking someone about where Dipper was, just for some sense of normalcy, but all that did was summon that dumb clone Mabeland created of him so I wouldn’t get too lonely. I know it’s dumb, but the whole thing just felt…too real. Like I was still stuck there, and the apocalypse was still going on out here, and the whole rescue mission was just a sick dream that Bill put in my head to trick me into believing everything was okay”

Mabel squishes her face into Ford’s sweater and just forces herself to focus on his scent, on the soft material of his sweater, on the gentle pattern of his breathing. “Everything was ripped away from me, Grunkle Ford, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I tried speaking up for myself, but that only made things worse, because Bill showed up, and he-”

She’s suddenly painfully aware that she’s trembling again, and can’t help the tears building in her eyes. She tries burying her face even further into Ford’s sweater to collect herself and keep going, but before she can she feels Ford’s hand at the back of her head, gently holding her in place as she cries.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, his voice a soothing presence among her racing thoughts. “You don’t have to keep going.” He’s back to gently petting her hair, and the gesture is consistent and familiar enough to ease Mabel’s crying. “I’m so sorry that you’re still having nightmares about this”.

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, and finally finds the strength to pull herself away from his sweater. “It’s not your fault”, she says, and her eyes drop to the hardwood floor of her bedroom. “I’m just so scared, Grunkle Ford.” She grips onto the edges of her skirt. “I know that I shouldn’t be, because I know Bill’s been gone for a year and I know everything’s okay now, but I just can’t help but feel that everything’s not.”

Ford nods solemnly, and for a moment he doesn’t respond, until he shifts in his sitting position so he’s facing directly towards Mabel rather than beside her. “Mabel, may I show you something?”

Mabel blinks, her head tilting slightly in confusion. “Sure, Grunkle Ford, what is it?”

Ford rolls the sleeves of his turtleneck up to his elbows. His wrists are covered in faded white slits, and the rest of his arms are covered in burn scars, scratches, gashes, and decades-old bruises that never healed properly. Some of them are still red and blistering, and others look so faded that she could just as easily mistake them for birthmarks.

It hurts Mabel’s heart just to look at them. Her hands hover cautiously over them, and she glances at the wonderful great uncle that they’re attached to. “C-can I…?”

He nods. “Sure.”

Mabel gently runs her fingers along each of them so lightly that it’s almost as if she isn’t touching them at all. She knows that he’d been hurt in the past, and she knows that it couldn’t have been easy roughing it out in the multiverse for thirty consecutive years, but it breaks her heart to see the evidence of it all up close.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ford sighs, cutting into her thoughts. “But most of these don’t come from the portal” he pauses to rub at the back of his head. “Or, rather, they do, but not in the way that you probably think”

Mabel pauses. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…sometime after Bill betrayed my trust, but before I was able to get the metal plate in my head to keep him out, he’d take advantage of our deal that let him into my mind whenever he pleased,” he taps at his forehead. “He was furious that I shut down the portal, so any time I fell asleep he’d use the opportunity to hurt me as much as he could. He never wanted to kill me because he was convinced I’d change my mind in due time, but he felt the need to torture me so I’d never act against him again. He’d slit my wrists, he’d burn me, he’d do just about everything he could to make sure I could feel the repercussions of his actions when I woke up.” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “Thankfully he was never able to break a bone before I woke up in time to stop him, but…” he trails off, and for the briefest of moments he looks as though he’s lost in thought.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” Ford blushes, snapping himself from his own thoughts before Mabel has any time to ask if he’s okay. “The point is,” he says, “Just because you know he’s gone now doesn’t mean that he never hurt you. Your nightmares are your scars, and they’re just as real as the scars under my sweater.”

Mabel wants to respond with a proper thank you, because she’s genuinely touched by the validation, but there’s a part of her that just can’t move past all the gashes and scars on Ford’s arms. She knows she’s seen similar cuts elsewhere, maybe not nearly as dire, but she knows in the back of her mind that’s just because she was just barely able to stop them from becoming much, much worse.

“I don’t think it’s just the nightmares” she mumbles, just barely loud enough for Ford to hear.

“Hmm?” Ford hums. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Mabel runs two fingers gently around the white scars on Ford’s wrist. “I don’t think it’s just that he hurt me, I think it’s that he hurt a lot of people that I love, too.” She shakes her head. “I know there isn’t a lot I could’ve done to prevent it, but…I was so oblivious to it, Grunkle Ford. I had no idea he was hurting so many people until it was almost too late”.

She keeps rubbing gentle circles into his wrist, like she can make the scars and all of the memories of the pain he went through vanish into thin air with her loving touch alone. “Dipper’s got these scars too. I know he’s okay now, but…” the sigh that escapes her is broken and shaky. “I know that much worse things could’ve happened to him, too”.

Ford frowns. “He…did tell me about being possessed, yes. But he also told me that he couldn’t have gotten his body back without your help. Bill’s a master at trickery, Mabel, it’s not your fault you couldn’t recognize him in Dipper’s body”.

…But she also knows that the reason Dipper was possessed in the first place is because he was up all night trying to crack a code that she told him she’d help him with, and she also knows that if she found out that it wasn’t Dipper controlling his body until it was too late, then…

“He wrote a letter”

The words slip out of her mouth before she can stop herself, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, tears building in her eyes again.

“Who did?” The soft smile slips off of Ford’s face. “Dipper?”

Mabel shakes her head. “Bill wrote a letter when he was still in possession of Dipper’s body. I’ve never shown it to Dipper before because I didn’t wanna freak him out, but I just…couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, because I was so afraid that if I did, Bill was going to find out, and wait until the moment my back was turned so he could…” her voice trails off, and she can’t finish the sentence no matter how badly she needs to get it off of her chest.

“Mabel?” Ford asks, his voice dripping with worry.

She shakes her head, and hops down from her bed to reach underneath. She grabs a seemingly useless crumped up piece of paper, and carefully unfolds it and pats down all the wrinkles before she offers it to Ford. “Before he could do this,” she replies, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

Ford takes the letter from her, and Mabel takes her seat back on the bed beside him. All she can bring herself to do is just watch as Ford’s expression becomes more and more horrified as he reads further down the letter, and the hurt in his eyes when he looks into hers when he finishes reading is palpable.

“I’m scared, Grunkle Ford” she repeats, her mouth continuing to speak before her brain can stop her. “I know Bill’s gone for good, but how can I be so sure that everything’s okay when I know that this is what he could’ve done to my brother?”

For a few painfully short moments Ford says nothing. Mabel’s sure he’s at a loss of words, or that it was a mistake showing him the letter because he’s freaking out now too, but much to her surprise Ford’s next move is pulling her into his arms again and hugging her so tightly it’s as if he never wants to let go again.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into her hair, but doesn’t give her enough time to respond before he keeps going. “Mabel, I’m so sorry you’ve been burdened with this. You’re the last person I would ever wish to feel so unsafe that you can’t even trust the quiet moments.”

His breathing sounds broken and shaky, but if he’s tearing up at all he’s doing a really good job at hiding it. “You don’t deserve any of this. You’re too young to feel like you have any responsibilities over anyone’s life or death. I’m so sorry that he made you feel this way”

She knows he’s not the kind of person to use his words carelessly. She knows that he’s phrasing it this way because he recognizes his own behavior in her. She doesn’t respond verbally, but she reciprocates the hug best she can, and a heavy sigh escapes Ford when she does. They stay there in silence for a few short minutes, just reveling in the comfort and safety of the other’s arms.

When they finally pull away, Ford seems to have gathered his composure again.

“I promise, Mabel” he takes one of her hands into his own. “I promise you that he’s gone. He can never hurt you or me or Dipper or Stan ever again. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t, and it doesn’t mean that recovering from that sort of pain will be easy, but if there’s anything I know for sure, it’s that he’s never showing his face here again”.

Mabel finally crumbles in his arms. She’s sobbing again, but it’s a cathartic kind of sob, and she’s gripping onto Ford’s shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping her together.

“And even if he does, I know just the grappling hook to scare him away”.

Between her sobs, Mabel can’t help but giggle.

#my writing #gravity falls #ford pines #mabel pines #sweater twins #mystery twins

121 notes · View notes

supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

New girl.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 3000.

Two weeks ago:

You haven’t stepped foot in school for five weeks after the science fair and you absolutely didn’t miss it. In fact, there was a part of you so done with the whole school thing, you genuinely considered it was time for you to go to college. But then you didn’t.

One day, you got up, dressed your school t-shirt, limped downstairs and went back to school with a cast on your leg. You thought you were limping back to your old life, but that didn’t happen.

Jamie was still going to school for these weeks you were out. And she was not alone. It was kind of silly of you to think she would go so long without a Luthor by her side and not make new friends. Jamie is nice, funny and sweet. People would obviously get closer once the evil cousin was out of the picture.

So, you went back to school, but not to your old life. Because there was somebody else.

“Hey.” You walked in the classroom, saw someone sitting in your desk next to Jamie, and they were talking and laughing like actual friends. Jamie was so shocked by your presence, it was like she hadn’t seen you in days, which wasn’t true because you saw her the day before.

“Oh my God, you’re actually back!” Jamie stood up and quickly rearranged some desk so you could sit close to her. “I’m so happy you two finally get to meet!”

“Oh, um, hi.” You looked at the girl in your spot, your words got stuck on your throat for several different reasons. One: she was pretty. Two: She absolutely knew who you are by the look on her face. Three: the look on her face. “I’m Jamie’s cousin, my name is-”

“I know who you are.” She interrupted you. “You’re a Luthor.”

“Maya!” Jamie scolded her, and you saw a shrug in response.

“Among other things, yeah.” You agreed with your head, annoyed. That went south really fast, didn’t it? Not that you were expecting anything different, but you were still caught by surprise.

“Sorry.” She looked down, looking almost embarrassed. It took her a few seconds, but she raised her hand at you. “It’s nice to meet you, your cousin talked a lot about you.”

“Oh.” You took her hands, adjusting the frame of your glasses back in position. “Yeah, nice to meet you too.”

And it was nice. Until it wasn’t.

And that was on the lunch break, when everyone else noticed your presence and the new addition to your table, and that turned into a nightmare very, extremely, painfully fast.

“Oh, look at that! Another freak joined the freak show.” Oh yeah, the freak show comment. You certainly didn’t miss that.

“Too bad Luthor didn’t break something else.” Like what? The neck?

“Was it really an accident or someone got revenge over the things her family does?” You are somewhat correct on this one.

“Did she got beat up for being a Luthor?” Nope. For being a Super, although you still believe someday you will get beat up for the Luthor part.

“Honestly, I don’t think they’ve beaten her up enough.” Ok, so that one stung a little.

“New girl, if I were you, I would get out of there… She’s a Luthor! Luthors are vicious.” And this one stung a lot.

You dropped your head low, feeling your cheeks burn of embarrassment. Great, someone else to be dragged through mud because of you and your name. You got up from the table when you heard that.

Jamie looked up to you, like she was asking you to stay, but Maya looked at you like she was expecting you to punch whoever said that. You did neither. You just left.

Kara came to pick you up five minutes after you called. You said your leg was hurting a lot and you couldn’t stay any longer. She didn’t question. There was nothing wrong with your leg, but a little white lie never hurt nobody.

When you went back to school the next day, you were sure Maya would not be seated close to Jamie anymore. You limped your way into the classroom and she wasn’t seated on the chair you used to sit, but she was in the one behind Jamie. You were feeling kind of shocked and happily surprised about it.

“Hey, you cool?” Maya asked, before Jamie even opened her mouth to say hi. You agreed with your head and sat.

“You just left.” Jamie looked worried and you smiled.

“Sorry, my leg.” You pointed at the cast. “Sometimes the pain gets too strong.” You shrugged then smiled a little. “Luthors are used to put other people through pain, and not to feel it.”

“Shut up, last time you saw a spider you picked it up and put it outside instead of killing it.” Jamie rolled her eyes at you and looked back at Maya. “She can’t hurt a fly.”

“No one can’t hurt a fly. It’s too fast.” You gave Jamie a smirk, because you could obviously hurt a fly with your powers and she knows that, when you heard a loud laughter behind her. You looked at Maya, with puzzling eyes.

“Sorry. That was kinda funny.” She shrugged and you furrowed your brows. Did someone else aside from your family laugh over a joke you made? Wait. Is someone at school laughing with you instead of at you? Well, that’s a first.

Today:

So, apparently, Jamie’s so cool the new girl doesn’t even mind your name. She still sits next to you both in every class you have together. She doesn’t mind (or at least doesn’t show) being called a ‘freak’, a ‘weirdo’ or ‘a nerd’.

“Is aunt Kara still picking you up everyday from school?” Jamie asks while you three make your way out of the school. You’re not limping anymore, your leg is almost recovered and your powers are kind of back (not at full potential, but it’s better than nothing). Aunt Alex promised she will remove your cast at the end of the week and you’re looking forward to it.

“Rao, no!” You say with a smile, it slowly turns into a frown when you realize what you just said.

“What’s Rao?” Maya asks and you look at Jamie, panicking.

“Oh, Rao! It’s, um, it’s a joke!” Jamie forces a smile through her own panic and you agree vividly with your head.

“Yeah! Once we were thinking what God’s name would be like, and we, I don’t know, came up with Rao?” You look at Jamie and she also agrees with her head.

“Is it stupid? Rao, yes.” Jamie says and you almost laugh at her for using Rao, it sounds weird when it leaves her mouth.

“Oh, I don’t know, I think it’s funny.” Maya shrugs making her way to the car. “Well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow, you know, if I don’t meet Rao first.”

You laugh hysterically next to Jamie, who just squints her eyes at you and your overreacted laughter.

“Ok, dial back a notch.” She whispers and you let your laughter fade. “Bye, Maya!”

“Bye!” You wave goodbye and turn back to Jamie, mouth agape. “Dear Rao, do you think she noticed?”

“That you are a total weirdo?” Jamie agrees with her head. “I think it’s kind of impossible to miss that.”

“You know what? I kind of waited for this moment my whole life. I’ve never had to say ‘oh my God’.” You speak two octaves up your normal tone, making fun of half the girls from your school, and Jamie laughs. “Now I get to use God like the rest of the world.”

“Aw. Welcome to Earth, baby alien!” She hugs you and you laugh, still accepting the hug. You turn around to see Lena’s car parked close to where you are, and you say goodbye to Jamie, making your way towards her.

“Hey mom!” You get in the car, and she smiles at you. “Is everything alright? It’s the middle of the day.” You look at her with a confused expression.

“Everything’s fine.” Lena squeezes your hand, reassuringly, and starts the car getting out of your school. “I gave myself a half day and I thought you and I could do something.”

“Oh, okay.” You put your seatbelt and throw your backpack to the backseat. “This is cool.”

“Yeah?” She asks looking at you from the corner of her eyes, and you see a smile coming up on her face. “I’m glad you’re excited.”

“Of course!” You are excited. Lena leaving work in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday? Sign you up for that every week. “Where are we going?”

“Well, I have noticed most of your clothes are looking too childish so-”

“Oh, no.”

“I thought we could go to the mall-”

“Oh, no.”

“And we can buy some new stuff!” She finishes with a smile. You’re almost opening your mouth to say ‘oh no’ again, when she interrupts. “You know, most girls would love to have their wardrobe renewed.”

“Sorry you got stuck with me, then.” You smile apologetic and Lena takes one hand of the wheel to stroke your cheek lightly.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She reassures you. “You know there’s a food court at the mall, right?” She gives you some eyebrow raises and you give her a flat smile. “Come on, baby, it will be fun!”

“You and I have different concepts of fun.” But spending time with Lena is one of yours, so you give her a genuine smile when you think about it. “You know what? I bet it will be fun. Let’s do it!”

Lena has a much better grasp of what teens are wearing, Rao only knows why, and she helps you pick up cute clothes and when you look in the mirror you don’t look like a twelve years-old anymore. You look your age, and it feels good! And it’s fun! It’s so fun.

Until it isn’t anymore.

“Oh, wow, hey!” You look at Maya going inside of the same store you and Lena are getting out from. She looks at her mom, you, your mom, and everyone around. She doesn’t speak for a moment long enough to make it awkward.

“Do you know these people, Maya?” You hear her mother asking and the way she says ‘these’, makes your heart skip a tiny beat. You look at your mom, with her furrowed brows. Oh no, not the Luthor talk. Not in front of Lena.

“I think she goes to my school.” She shrugs her arms exaggerating, clearly overcompensating. “We’re not friends.”

Your heart drops in your chest, and you feel Lena’s hand tighten on your shoulder. You hold your breath for what feels like minutes.

“She’s kinda weird.” She adds. You look back at Lena who is looking daggers at her.

“Let’s go.” You hold Lena’s hand before she can open her mouth. “Come on, mom.”

Lena lets it slip away, but it looks like there’s a whole battle happening inside her. She keeps trying to talk to you about it, and you keep avoiding it and talking about anything else. Like your clothes, that look really stupid now.

You just can’t believe you were hanging in the mall, buying cool clothes, with your mom like a normal teen would do. You are not normal. You can’t believe you let yourself be carried away by the normality of the moment.

The experience is cut short when your mom gets an important call from work, and you’ve never felt so happy about Lena having to go back to work, like right now. She takes you back home, and goes to L Corp.

You wish you were mad at Maya, for calling you weird, but that was nothing. You are mad at yourself for thinking that for once in your life someone liked you for you, even though they’re well-aware of your last name. You feel silly and naïve. But not surprised.

“Baby, do you want to talk about what happened at the mall?” Lena walks in your bedroom already later that night, and you lower your book to look at her.

“Yeah!” You answer, and Lena’s face lights up when she thinks you want to talk to her about what’s troubling you. “What’s up with that jacket you picked up for momma? She’s going to look like a traffic light.”

“That’s not what I was talking about.” Lena sits in front of you, and you shrug like you don’t know what she means. “What that girl said to you was really bad. Just so-so mean.”

“Oh.” You think about all the things you’ve heard just this week and how that was probably one of the nicest things anyone from school has ever said to you. But Lena doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know the things you hear, and all the hate speech you endure almost every single day, so you agree with your head. “Yeah, that was bad, right?”

“Awful! I had to brace myself not to yell at her mom to raise a better child!” Lena says making you laugh. But she is not laughing, because she is not joking. You can see it on her face that she actually considered it.

“Oh, dear God, no!” You rush to reassure her. “It will only make it worse.”

“Did you just say dear God?” Lena furrows her brows and you bite your lower lip. Wrong place. Wrong crowd. Got it.

“Oh, just a slip up.” You shrug. “Anyways mom, it’s fine. I have thick skin. I mean, I’m a Luthor AND a Super. I know what we’re all about, and those people don’t. So, um, don’t worry, ok?”

“Baby, I’m sorry you have to hear those things.” Lena scootches over and kisses your temple. “But I’m glad I raised a kid who’s not mean to others and who knows her worth.”

“Yeah, totally.” You smile lightly. Knows her worth, haha, nice joke mom. “Thanks for the talk.”

“I’m always here, ok?” Lena strokes your cheek giving you a smile. “No more reading for you today.” She takes the book out of your hands. “Go to bed, it’s pretty late.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You joke, making her roll her eyes. “Goodnight, mom.”

“Goodnight, babygirl.” And so Lena leaves and you lay in your bed to sleep.

But you don’t. You can’t believe how mad you’re with yourself. Thinking Maya liked you and wanted to be your friend? You’re so dumb. Luthors don’t have friends. They have a horde of haters following them around and telling them to just kill themselves.

You thought you could have friends?

You’re dumb.

You thought she liked you?

You’re stupid.

You thought she didn’t care about your family name?

You’re a damn fool.

“Kid, time to get up!” Kara knocks on your door as a wakeup call, unaware you’ve been awake the entire night.

“Momma!” You yell, so she comes back to your bedroom. She opens the door a few seconds later. “I-um-can I-well-may I-?

“What?” Kara gets inside your bedroom and kisses your forehead. “Baby, get up so you can ride with Lena.”

“Yeah, mhm, ok.” She is almost leaving again, and you hold her hand. “But-but do you think that maybe I can stay home today?” You ask, giving a little smile and she furrows her brows.

“Why? Does your leg hurt?” You deny with your head. “Do you feel any pain or discomfort?” You deny again. “Well then, baby, you have to go to school. You already missed so many classes.”

“Mhm, yeah, I know.” You almost feel like arguing again, like begging and crying and making her feel guilty or whatever. But you know that if you keep trying to miss school, she’ll call Lena, and Lena will know why you don’t want to go and uh, fuck. You’re going to school. And you’re facing Maya sooner than you wanted.

You’re almost inside of the classroom when you feel a hand pulling you backwards. You look back to see that Maya is the one pulling you back. You don’t want to talk to her, but you’re letting yourself be pulled back, because you know that if you use half of your strength, you wouldn’t move and that would be weird.

“What?” You say when she finally stops pulling you and you both stop.

“I just want to talk to you about yesterday-”

“Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t told Jamie, and I won’t. You’re her only friend in years, and I’m not going to take that away from her just because you hate me.” You cut her off and she breathes heavily when you stop talking.

“God! Do you even know why I hate you?” She asks and you shrug, well aware of the answer.

“Because of my family.”

“No.” She looks up, then back at you very fondly. You wonder how she can hate you when she looks at you like that. “Because you make me question everything they’ve told me! How-how can a Luthor not be evil?”

You don’t answer. How can you answer that, anyway?

“How can a Luthor be this smart and not use her knowledge to try to take over the world?” Maya takes a step closer, and once again you have no idea what to answer. But that’s ok, because she doesn’t look like she needs an answer. “How can a Luthor be so-uh! So sweet, and kind, and pretty?”

“Oh.” It’s the only thing you can say. She takes a step forward again, and you can see she’s close. So, so close you can feel her breath on your face. “OH!”

“Yeah, oh.” She repeats and you follow her eyes to where she’s staring. You want to smile when you realize she’s looking at your lips, but you also don’t want to move in case she stops moving, and looking, and getting closer closer closer, so close-

She kisses you.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #lena x reader #reader insert

150 notes · View notes

spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

dry me off and hold me close

Summary: Derek has finally relented and is bringing his boyfriend Spencer to meet the rest of the team. That means, though, he has to finally tell them about his boyfriend's disability. Terrified that they'll react badly, he puts it off until he can't anymore. Turns out he was worried for nothing.

Tags: so much fluff, protective derek, disabled spencer, caretaker derek, au: spencer is not in the bau, team as family, hurt/comfort, light angst, est. rel, day to day disabled life, physical disability/chronic illness

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 5.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Hello! I am nervous to share this one, I won't lie. It's incredibly personal. It was a pain in the arse to write but I love how it turned out and I hope you do, too. Just a note: this may be triggering for some people - there is description of nausea and severe chronic pain, as well as frequent references to ableism towards wheelchair users.

As soon as Rossi brings up the prospect of a fully-catered family dinner at his ‘mansion’ this weekend, Derek’s heart sinks. They’re on their way home from a pretty gruelling case and it’s well-deserved of course, but he knows what comes next, knows what question will be asked of him, and he’s dreading it. There’s only so long he can go on avoiding answering.

“Please tell me you’ll finally let us meet Spencer, Derek,” JJ asks, levelling him with a look to rival one of Penelope’s. “At this point I’m starting to think you’ve made him up.”

Spencer is very real. He’s a very real, very sexy, very intelligent man who Derek has no doubt would get on brilliantly with the team. But Spencer also happens to be disabled. And while his boyfriend has had decades to get to terms with broaching such a sensitive, taboo topic, Derek has not. He’s far from ashamed of Spencer — that’s not it at all — he’s just so protective of him, and the idea of others being touchy or patronising or outright rude around him is an idea he’s never been able to get used to, no matter how many times he’s witnessed it.

Derek’s laugh is strained as he rubs his face awkwardly, trying to find the words to politely decline, but the others are pouncing on him before he can speak.

“You’ve put it off enough times now, Morgan,” Emily says, siding with JJ. “If he’s even half of what you say he is then we’ll love him. Just bring him along. Rossi doesn’t mind.”

“Oh no, I’m dying to meet the man who could finally tie Derek Morgan, ladies man extraordinaire, down,” Rossi chimes in.

“He definitely sounds like my kind of guy,” Alex agrees. “I’m impressed you managed to land such an educated man, Derek.”

He looks sort of desperately towards Hotch who raises his hands guiltily. “I would actually like to meet him, too, Morgan,” he says reluctantly, a rare smile playing across his face.

Derek groans and throws his head back against his plane seat. He can only be glad Penelope isn’t on the flight because she’d be absolutely relentless in such a conversation.

As hesitant as he is to let his team in, maybe it is time to finally get over himself and bring Spencer to meet them. After all, none of them have ever given him actual cause to be so nervous, and he knows they’d all inevitably fall in love with him almost as quickly as Derek did, so really it’s his own fears and fierce protective instincts keeping Spencer away from his second family.

“Fine,” he relents, anxious butterflies not easing. “He’s home this weekend, and apart from planning lectures I think he’s free, so I’ll ask him. But I can only promise to ask, I won’t promise he’ll agree.” It’s a pointless caveat; Spencer’s been bugging him to meet the team almost as long as they’ve been bugging him to meet Spencer, he’ll jump at the chance to go to dinner with them.

“Finally,” JJ groans, pretending to collapse against Emily in relief, who giggles fondly at her antics.

“I’m sure we’ll love him, Derek,” Rossi says reassuringly, a proud fatherly look on his face that has his chest clenching painfully.

As everyone settles down, his stomach churns anxiously as he stares back out of the jet window. He knows everyone will love Spencer; he just doesn’t know how to tell them what to expect. What if Spencer has a fainting episode or gets nauseous at dinner time? What if he can’t keep his energy up or is too photosensitive to have the lights on? What if meeting that many people at once overwhelms him? Spencer always tells him he worries too much, but he can’t help it — not when the love of his life is involved.

He’s brought out of his nervous stewing by Hotch. “You know, Morgan, if you really don’t want to bring Spencer, you don’t have to,” he says softly, making him look up to see everyone staring at him guiltily.

“We didn’t mean to pressure you,” JJ says hesitantly, and the others agree, all clearly having noticed his pensive expression.

He forces himself to take a calming breath and bite the damn bullet already. Spencer would be rolling his eyes at him. “Okay. There’s something I haven’t told you,” he starts carefully. He hasn’t had to introduce the concept of Spencer’s disability to anybody since he told his family. “Spencer is disabled. He has a chronic condition that impairs his mobility along with bringing a whole host of other symptoms, and while he’s had it for most of his adult life, I’m still not used to broaching the topic and I didn’t know how you would react. He already experienced enough difficulties in life, he doesn’t need my co-workers, hypothetically, being patronising or weird about it. So, I put it off.”

It feels like a weight off his chest once it’s out in the air, but the surprised looks on his team’s face make him briefly wonder whether telling them was a mistake after all. “Spencer will really look forward to coming though,” he rushes to continue. “He’s on his own a lot of the time and struggles to make it out of the house except for work if I’m not there, so he can feel quite isolated. It will be nice for him to spend time with other people, and finally meet you guys.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, everyone seems to have mostly recovered from their immediate shock, and look relaxed and intrigued again — far more appreciated expressions on Derek’s end.

“Well,” Rossi starts, and he feels like holding his breath in anticipation, “will he need any accommodations?” Relief spreads warm and thick across Derek’s chest as he feels himself physically relax. Of course immediate support would be the response from his team; he was stupid to think otherwise.

“His mobility fluctuates daily. Sometimes he can walk small distances okay, other times — and more frequently — he needs aids like forearm crutches or his wheelchair. Can I text you on the day and let you know?”

“Of course,” Rossi promises, a warm smile on his face, “whatever you and Spencer need.”

“There is one more thing, if Spencer’s coming it will need to be earlier in the evening… think more six rather than eight. He’ll be too exhausted later in the evening and he needs to be home early to get the amount of sleep he needs.”

“That’s fine,” Rossi agrees immediately, “six it is.”

“Sorry for pressuring you, Derek,” JJ says, tilting her head as she looks across the table at him. “But we’ll love Spencer, this won’t change anything.”

“Yeah, fuck you for thinking we’d be assholes about it,” Emily chuckles, punching him softly in the arm.

Derek grins at her before shaking his head. “I’m just too protective of him,” he explains a little guiltily. “He thinks it’s ridiculous but I can’t help it. We’ve been together nearly five years now and I’ve seen the things he has to go through, professionally and in his day to day life. I just saw an area for potential harm, no matter how slim the chances, and immediately bricked it up in my mind. It’s hard to tear walls down like that.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” Alex says in her signature gentle tone, smiling at him.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Hotch agrees and Derek gives them all another quick smile before they settle in for the rest of the flight.

It’s late by the time Derek unlocks the door to his and Spencer’s home and he knows his boyfriend will already be in bed. It had been a weird adjustment when they’d first started dating, Spencer having to be home by 10pm so Spencer could get at least nine hours of sleep, topped up by regular naps during the day. Now though, he’s completely used to operating around Spencer’s sleep schedule; it’s just routine.

He makes his way through the house quietly, toeing his shoes off and shedding his coat before dumping his bag in the living room and padding up the stairs. The house is dark but their room is dimly lit by Spencer’s night lamps, there to ease him off to sleep and keep him company when bouts of painful insomnia torment him. There was a time Derek used to mind, but those days seem so long ago now. He climbs carefully onto the mattress, taking off his trousers and socks but not bothering to change into anything new.

As gentle as he is with his movement, Spencer still stirs beside him. “Derek?” He blinks sleepily over at him in the soft light of the bedroom and Derek immediately scoots over and wraps him in a hug. It might be gone midnight but he misses Spencer like crazy when he’s away and physical contact is very much essential business right now.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispers as he relishes the feeling of Spencer’s small frame against his own. “Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay. Just glad you’re home. Missed you.”

“I promise I missed you more,” Derek murmurs as the warmth of the room and comforting presence of his boyfriend wrapped around him finally break down the walls he’s been holding back the sleepiness working a 5 day case inevitably brings.

“Make me pancakes in the morning?”

Spencer doesn’t need to ask, it’s a tradition for Derek to make pancakes for breakfast the day he gets back from the case, but it makes him smile anyway. “Anything for you, baby boy,” he yawns. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

⭐️

Derek waits until dinner the next evening to bring up the subject of the dinner party. It’s just a simple takeaway on the sofa of the house Derek had renovated for them, but even five years into their relationship, every moment shared with Spencer feels like a date.

“How would you feel about going to a dinner party with the team?” Derek asks when there’s a lull in their conversation. Spencer’s just finished explaining a complicated debate he’s having with one of his colleagues about kinetic particle theory and Derek has no idea how to respond. Moments like these used to make him feel stupid and inadequete when they first got together, but now he just stares fondly at his genius boyfriend and wonders how on earth he got so lucky.

Spencer lowers his fork. They’re eating chinese but he still hasn’t mastered chopsticks, and it never fails to make Derek smile. “Are you serious?” he says, an excited grin spreading across his face.

“I am.” He quirks an amused eyebrow as he takes in Spencer’s eager expression. God, he’s so fucking in love.

“Well obviously I want to go,” he giggles, “you know that. When is it?”

“Saturday.”

Spencer just launches himself into Derek’s lap in lieu of response, not that he has far to move on their cosy sofa, slotting himself against his body as they melt into one another. “Thank you for finally getting over yourself,” he says with his face buried in Derek’s neck.

Derek’s responding laugh jostles both of them as he wraps his arms around Spencer’s small frame, loving the way he fits in the palms of his hands. “I’m sorry it took me so long, baby,” he says, tone transitioning into sincerity. “But they can’t wait to meet you, and you’re going to love them.”

“I know,” Spencer says drily, pulling back to look him in his eyes. “Why do you think I’ve been pushing to meet them for the last five years?”

Derek answers with a squeeze to Spencer’s waist and a kiss to his shoulder. “Go on,” he says, lifting him off his lap to sit on the sofa next to him. “Finish your dinner.”

“Mm, I think I’ve had enough,” Spencer hums nonchalantly, busying himself with putting the carton on the coffee table as if Derek doesn’t know him like the back of his hands.

“This is your favourite dish from your favourite Chinese and you’re expecting me to believe you’ve just had enough,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“Nothing,” Spencer says, but he sounds winded and Derek isn’t stupid. He levels him with a look. “Okay… I just feel a bit sick is all.”

“Floor, sofa, or bed?” He’s aware of the nausea protocol, and he moves his own dinner aside as he springs into action.

“Floor.” He’d been surprised the first time his boyfriend had crawled onto the floor and lay curled up until the nausea passed, but it was second-nature now. Apparently, the flat, firm surface was the most comfortable when such intense sickness consumed him.

“Okay, baby, let’s go.” He gently lifts Spencer off the sofa and down onto the floor, taking care not to jostle him too much. His eyes stay closed, face screwed up as he tries to weather the waves of nausea crashing over him. It never fails to make Derek’s heart twist in pain. “Are you actually going to be sick?” The majority of nausea spells usually pass on their own with no vomit to speak of, and Spencer’s usually very good at telling which kind it is.

“No,” he whispers, reaching his hand slowly towards Derek’s and gripping it tightly. He gets the message and lays down next to him, stroking his hair softly as they wait in silence for Spencer’s body to right itself. It only takes about twenty minutes to pass, and when it does, Derek carries him to bed, bringing him his toothbrush and a flannel as they follow another of their set routines that have been established over so many years of being together.

“I love you so much, Spencer Reid,” Derek murmurs as they lay in bed together that night, the soft light of their bedroom catching on Spencer’s cheekbones.

“I love you more, Derek Morgan,” Spencer whispers back, voice slurred as he cuddles further into the arms of his boyfriend.

“Not possible,” Derek insists, but Spencer’s already dropping off to sleep.

⭐️

Spencer wakes up on the day of the dinner party in what Derek can clearly see is nothing short of agony. He doesn’t try to hide it, they’re mostly past that now — although he still sometimes convinces himself he can handle smaller symptoms by himself, no matter how many times Derek insists they’re a team — but he doesn’t say much either. The morning is spent on the sofa, using numerous heated blankets and painkiller combinations until he can at least think straight.

“How do you feel about this evening?” Derek asks as lunchtime approaches, rubbing Spencer’s good arm gently as he leans against him, legs outstretched on the chaise.

Spencer hums. “I’m gonna take a nap after lunch,” he decides after a moment of deliberation, “and then decide. I think with meds and the wheelchair, I’ll be okay.” He pauses for a moment as he nibbles nervously on his bottom lip. “Do you think they’ll be weird about the chair?”

“No, baby,” Derek says decisively. Really, he can’t believe he ever thought anything different, but he was scared and fear easily spirals into irrationality. “They won’t even blink. Especially since I warned them about the mobility aids. I think they’d be more surprised if you walked into the Rossi mansion.”

“You sure?”

It hurts Derek’s heart to hear him so anxious and uncertain, and it’s only more painful because he knows it's rooted in experience. He’s had to fight for most of his life to be seen as a competent adult, equal to his peers despite his disability, and people can be cruel. “I’m sure. And even if for some reason they were dicks about it, I’m there, okay? Nobody’s gonna get away with being anything other than an angel towards you when I’m around.”

Spencer giggles at that, turning his head into Derek’s chest. “You turn into the hulk when you’re protecting me.”

“I do,” he agrees, chuckling at the sound of Spencer’s adorable laugh, “and for good reason. No-one hurts my baby. You know that, and everyone else knows it, too. We’re gonna be just fine, pretty boy.”

Spencer sighs, reassured by Derek’s words. “Love you,” he whispers, twisting a bit to press a kiss to the side of Derek’s neck.

“I love you more,” Derek promises, lifting a hand to rest on Spencer’s cheek.

“Not possible.”

The rest of the day passes slowly as Spencer takes it easy, deciding that he’s definitely up to it after a decent nap curled up against a reading Derek. They get ready together, Derek helping him shower when his arms hurt too much to wash his hair and getting him dressed in his favourite outfit before dressing himself.

By the time six thirty rolls around, Spencer’s feeling a little bit better, his meds are hitting the spot and they’ve mastered all the wheelchair adaptations to make his life as easy as possible over the years. His cushions and heated seats connected to the wheelchair’s motor, which he uses to help self-propell at work, ease the pain as much as they can and the built in phone charger always makes him popular whenever they go out with friends. Plus, his cane and crutches connect neatly to the back of the chair, giving him more options, which is especially helpful on nights like this.

“Comfy?” Derek asks as he pushes him out of the apartment and into the hallway, locking the door behind them.

Spencer hums in affirmation, wiggling a little as he settles into the warm support of the chair. They have a ground floor apartment for safety reasons: Spencer needs to be able to exit the building if the lifts stop working, but it’s also convenient. They get down to the garage quickly and Derek helps him into the passenger seat before packing the wheelchair in the boot.

He spends the journey in contemplative silence and Derek can’t keep himself from shooting worried looks his way. His hand makes its way onto Spencer’s knee and he rubs his thumb gently against the skin, before stilling the digit, all too conscious of how painful repetitive stimulus can be, especially on days like these.

“Stop worrying, baby,” he says, ten minutes into the drive when Spencer still hasn’t said a word. His bottom lip is chapped from the worried chewing it has endured for most of the day. “They’re going to love you, I promise.”

“You really think so?”

Derek’s about to answer quickly but he looks over and sees how absolutely dead serious Spencer is. He sighs. “Let me tell you exactly why. Alex is a fellow academic with the softest streak of anyone in the BAU field team. Emily and JJ have the ability to befriend literally anyone, and Penelope already is in love with you, just from what I’ve said about you. She’s told me so multiple times. Rossi immediately accommodated you and wasn’t at all fazed when I mentioned your disability. Hotch is a gentle fatherly type when he’s talking to good people and the rest of the team, so he’ll just be interested in you as a person. There’s no-one I’m worried about, okay?”

“Okay,” Spencer whispers eventually, finally sounding like he actually believes him.

“Besides, you’ve already got one member of this team whipped,” Derek smirks, glancing over at him again.

He considers it a win when Spencer rolls his eyes, and his grin couldn’t be wider when he hears him mumble, “arrogant asshole” under his breath.

Derek’s grateful Rossi doesn’t have a gravel driveway as he gets Spencer out of the car and into his wheelchair, before pushing him the short way to the front door. They’d battled some tough terrain over the years, and gravel was absolutely his least favourite. As they approach the house, though, he notices that Spencer’s grip on his armrest is tight enough that his knuckles are white, and it hurts Derek’s heart that he’s only this nervous because real people and real experiences have given him genuine reason to be.

Before he gets to knock, though, the door is thrown open by an uncontainably excited Penelope. “You’re here!” she shouts, and completely bypasses Derek to shake Spencer’s hand. He’s glad she doesn’t crouch, just leans down a little so he doesn't have to reach up so far. “You must be Spencer. I’m Penelope. It is a crime that Derek has kept us apart for so long, but none of that matters now. Would you like me to push you in through to meet the others?”

“Um, it’s nice to finally meet you, Penelope,” he says, smiling at her genuinely. “Would you mind if Derek keeps pushing me, though?”

“Oh, no, that’s fine!” Her smile doesn’t drop a bit. “Come through, everyone’s already in the living room. Oh, and hi Chocolate Thunder.” She sends him a quick wink.

“Hi, Mama,” he says, rolling his eyes. He’s grinning, though. So far, so good.

They follow Penelope further into the house after Derek closes the door behind them, and the girls get up first. “Spencer, oh it’s so good to meet you,” Emily says, coming up and shaking his hand. “I’m Emily, this is JJ.”

“Hi,” JJ says, shaking his hand too, giving him a conspiratorial look. “I’m glad we finally bullied Derek into bringing his oh-so-secret beau to meet us.”

Derek just grins. “What can I say? I’m protective of my baby.” He reaches down and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Ignore this caveman,” Spencer laughs, and Derek is sure he rolls his eyes again. “I’ve been dying to meet you all, too.”

“Well, it’s our pleasure,” Alex says, coming up for her turn. “I’m Alex. Your paper ‘How Thinking Makes Us Write’ you published a couple of years ago is incredible; I used it in my Psychology of Writing class last year and only just realised it was written by Derek’s top-secret boyfriend! I’d love to talk to you more about that later.”

“That’s so cool, wow, yeah I’d love that.” He smiles at her, clearly feeling a little flattered by the immediate praise of his work. Derek thinks it’s the least he deserves.

“I’m Aaron, but everyone calls me Hotch,” Hotch says as he and Rossi step forward, a warm smile on his face. “Sorry to overwhelm you with all these introductions, but it’s lovely to meet you. It really is a shame Derek’s been so secretive.”

Spencer smiles up at him. “Are we all going to dunk on Derek all night? Because if that’s the case, I’m glad I came,” he laughs, twisting around slightly to look at Derek.

“Yeah, yeah, keep talking, pretty boy,” he says, raising a brow. “Two can play at that game.”

“You’re too whipped, I’m not worried,” Spencer dismisses him, before touching his hand lovingly, letting him know that he’s only teasing.

“I don’t doubt it,” Rossi says. “I’m Dave, or Rossi, whichever you prefer. I actually own this house, despite being the last in line for a formal introduction. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you at the door, Penelope had been waiting on the stairs for half an hour so she could be the first to greet you.”

“That true, baby girl?” Derek chuckles, looking over at her.

She doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, but then Derek doesn’t know what else he expected. “This is on you,” she defends herself, “if you hadn’t waited so long to introduce me to baby genius here, I wouldn’t have been so desperate to meet him.”

Spencer laughs at their interaction, turning his attention back to Rossi. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says. “Derek told me you were really accommodating, so thank you for that.”

He waves the thanks aside with a dismissive hand. “It’s nothing. Speaking of which, though, would you rather eat in your wheelchair or transfer to one of the dining chairs.”

Derek knows what’s about to happen even before he sees Spencer tense up. “Give us one second,” he says, wheeling him out into the hallway. Decisions are really hard for Spencer to make on bad days, especially those that pertain to his health or needs, and being under the eyes of so many people was not about to make that an easy interaction.

“Derek…” Spencer says anxiously, looking at him for help as he feels his mind spiral into fogginess at the question.

“Okay, it’s okay, baby,” he says soothingly, crouching down in front of him to be at eye level. He takes his hand and kisses it gently. “Do your hips need a break from the chair or would it be more painful to transfer?”

Phrasing questions like Rossi’s as directly applicable choices is always more digestible for Spencer and he sees him visibly relax at his words. “Hips need a break.”

“Great,” Derek says. “Do you want to go back in or do you need a minute to yourself?”

“No, I’m fine,” Spencer says, and he believes him. He instantly relaxed at having made a decision. “Let’s go back in.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

They walk back into a room full of vibrant conversation and laughter. “Oh, Spencer, Spencer,” Emily says, immediately roping him back into the conversation without making a big deal of him having to leave the room, “we’re debating whether Derek’s really the slob Alex insists he is. You need to help us settle it.”

“I shared a room with him once, okay,” she says, “it was a state!”

“I don’t doubt it,” Spencer agrees. “At home, he’s so anal about ‘everything in it’s place’ and won’t even let a mug sit on the counter without being washed up. But whenever we go away, he can’t keep the place clean, it’s the weirdest thing. It’s like his suitcase vomits its contents all over the room.”

“Hey, I didn’t know this dinner was gonna be all about airing my dirty laundry,” Derek laughs.

“Literally,” JJ points out.

“Right,” Rossi says, interrupting the laughter filling the room. “Dinner is ready, so we should eat. Did you come to a decision about seating, Spencer?” Derek’s impressed at how much he knows about accommodating disabilities. He probably has someone close to him who’s been through something similar to Spencer.

“I’ll transfer,” he confirms.

“Great, we can just move your wheelchair to the hall once you’re settled so it’s not in the way, if that’s okay?”

At Spencer’s nod, they all file into the kitchen/dining area and choose their places. Penelope bags the seat to Spencer’s left, Derek sitting to his right, as the other girls sit opposite them. Hotch and Rossi sit at Derek's end of the table. He holds hands with Spencer under the table all through the delicious pasta primavera, helping to ground him, reminding him he’s right there.

Conversation and laughter flows with the wine Rossi serves, and Derek doesn’t even mind his embarrassing stories being shared with the team, because it’s Spencer, and he’s so far gone for this man that he could slice him open and with his dying breath, Derek would thank him.

“I love you, really,” Spencer grins up at him, after he’s just revealed his Nina Simone shower concerts to everyone sitting around the table, everyone cracking up as the tough exterior Derek’s built up at work over the years slowly disintegrates, his own boyfriend fuelling the fire.

“And I love you, baby,” he says, leaning over to kiss him briefly, before pulling back. “Even when you spill my deepest darkest secrets.”

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest,” Alex says fondly. “You’re a lucky man, Derek.”

“No, I’m the lucky one,” Spencer insists. “Do you know what he said when we first met? We were at the supermarket, and I was reaching for some baby carrots. He said ‘whoa, pretty boy, don’t get those ones. They go off far too quickly. Someone as beautiful as you deserves better than that’. No mention of the wheelchair or bags under my eyes. He didn’t see Disabled Spencer, he just saw Spencer. Asked for my number then and there.”

“You were irresistible,” Derek says fondly, brushing a thumb against his cheek. “I knew right at that moment I would spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Stop,” Penelope begs, “my heart is literally a puddle on the floor. This world needs more Derek Morgans.”

“I’ll toast to that,” JJ says, her face just as soft as Penelope’s.

“A real toast,” Hotch says, raising his glass with a happy smile on his face. Derek very rarely sees such a relaxed expression on his face, and as much as they have their disagreements, it’s a nice thing to see. “A toast to Derek and Spencer. May your happiness live long and be as contagious as it is tonight.”

Everyone toasts to his words, and Spencer buries his face in Derek’s shoulder, a little embarrassed at the attention. They sit around the table a little longer, but Spencer slowly sags against his body, finding it painful to keep himself upright.

Noticing this, Penelope claps her hands. “Shall we move back to the living room? I bought chocolate and Rossi has wine.”

“This is true,” Rossi says as they all get up. He grabs Spencer’s wheelchair from the hall and Derek helps him back into it as they head back to the sofas.

“It’s weird using my chair inside,” Spencer laughs as Derek pulls him into his chest so he doesn’t have to keep himself steady upright, everyone else settling themselves around the room.

“Do you not need it often?” Hotch asks.

“No, I need it quite a lot. I just don’t usually have to. Derek’s usually fairly insistent on carrying me around our apartment.”

“We’ll never live in a big house,” Derek says, chuckling along with anyone else. “I couldn’t haul this big lug around a Rossi mansion, now could I?”

“Hey!” Spencer smacks his side lightly.

“You’re 6 foot tall, baby,” Derek defends himself. “You might be tiny but there’s still a lot of you.”

“Fair enough,” Spencer acquiesces, laying his head just under Derek’s chin.

“Right,” Rossi says, coming back into the room, “I have more of your non-alcoholic wine, Spencer, and more of the real stuff for everyone else. Hand out the chocolates, Penelope, and we’ll have ourselves some satisfied guests.”

“I don’t live here, old man,” Penelope says, raising an eyebrow but getting up from her seat cuddled against Emily and JJ anyway.

“Hey, you answered the door to pretty much everyone today; you’re co-hosting.”

“Can’t argue with that, Penelope,” Emily says drily, looking on amusedly as she huffs but hands out the chocolates anyway.

Derek discreetly pops two painkillers out in his pocket and hands it to Spencer, who swallows them down with a sip of his non-alcoholic wine, relaxing as they start to take effect. They all chat leisurely for a while, enjoying each other’s company in a non-pressured environment where they’re not surrounded by high profile cases and serial killers.

Eventually, though, Spencer starts to fall asleep on his chest, clearly feeling relaxed enough in the warm room, pressed up against his boyfriend and surrounded by the reassuring conversation of people he trusts. As soon as Derek notices, though, he knows it’s time to get him home and into bed before any true crisis of pain or fatigue takes place.

“I think we’ll need to get going, guys,” he says quietly, drawing everyone’s attention to Spencer’s dozing form. He watches as their faces soften and conversation quietens, everyone clearly enamoured with his boyfriend. It occurs to him that he feels no jealousy, only pride that he gets to call this wonderful man his, that he’ll be going home with him tonight, tucking him into bed and cuddling him until he falls asleep.

He shakes Spencer gently, and the others start to get up, tidying or just moving through to the kitchen so as not to embarrass him when he opens his eyes. “Sorry,” he murmurs sleepily, as he looks up at Derek. “I’m tired.”

“I know, baby,” he says softly, feeling so fond his heart could burst. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Everyone’s sad to see him go, gathering at the front door to say their goodbyes.

“You are invited to every BAU event from hereon in,” Penelope asserts confidently as she leans down for a gentle hug. She whispers, “you’re better company than Derek, anyway.”

“I heard that, Mama,” he says, poking her in the side.

“You were meant to,” she says, sending him a pointed look, before dropping the act and wrapping him in a hug as the others say goodbye to Spencer.

“It was so nice to finally meet you, Spencer,” Hotch says warmly. “Derek had better not keep us from seeing anymore of you.”

“I’m not sure I could possibly get away with that anymore,” he sighs. “Guess I’ll have to share my baby with you assholes.”

Spencer rolls his eyes at that, stifling a yawn. “Come on, caveman,” he says, rolling his eyes again. “I need to get home.”

“Anything for you, my highness,” he chuckles, before lifting his chin with his knuckle and bending down to kiss him briefly.

“Bye, lovebirds,” Emily calls as they make their way to their car.

“Drive safely,” JJ shouts, which makes Derek laugh fondly. He does love his team.

“See you on Monday,” he calls back as he helps Spencer into the passenger seat. They drive home in the comforting darkness of night, illuminated by the car and street lights of the city, and satisfaction pools in his stomach as he reflects on such a perfect evening as Spencer falls asleep against the passenger window. It really couldn’t have gone any better, and the relief he feels is staggering: the two most important facets of his life finally integrated after far too long.

While his whole life feels like it’s finally falling into place, all that really matters is that the man who is his entire world is happy, a small smile on his sleeping face as the shadows of the city brush their way over his cheekbones. He has to force his eyes back to the road, but he can’t resist the hand he slips into Spencer’s, or the smile that lights up his face as even in his sleep, Spencer’s fingers curl themselves around his.

Spencer's symptoms in this fic could fit any number of neurological conditions, but his unnamed condition was modelled on my own experience with fibromyalgia. I have a rather severe case, as would Spencer if he was diagnosed with this illness. The symptoms could also fit these conditions in one way or another: Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (M.E.), Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), Lupus, Rheumatoid Arthritis or Axial Spondyloarthritis, as well as others I'm sure I'm forgetting.

Everything about Spencer’s disability is true to the chronically ill/disabled experience as I know it, and to learn more please visit the end notes on AO3 where I explain in a little more detail some of the features of Spencer’s symptoms and condition.

<333

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @hotchgans @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith

#my writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #moreid #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #moreid fic #moreid fluff #moreid au #criminal minds au #disabled spencer reid

169 notes · View notes

eliemo · 4 years

Text

The Worst Thing in the World

Summary: Everyone knows Virgil needs to be handled a little different. He might not like it, but that’s the way it is, and living with the light sides won’t change that. After all, it’s common sense. Right?

Notes: So this is a lot longer and sadder than I planned on but i tend to get carried away. All main 6 sides are sympathetic here.

TWs: Talk of physical violence, implied abuse (past) Sympathetic/morally gray Remus and Janus but Unsympathetic unnamed characters

Part Two: Getting There

Virgil paused outside the closed door, holding his breath and listening, ensuring everything was silent for what had to be the hundredth time.

It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to work up the courage to even make it down the hall.

But everything was quiet. Logan was with Thomas working on the schedule for the week and should be occupied for a while. It was fine. Virgil could slip in and out and no one would ever know.

He really shouldn’t be pushing his luck like this. They’d been so...so ridiculously nice to him since he’d tried to duck out, and it had been everything he’d wanted for longer than he knew how to say.

They were welcoming, understanding, and patient. And most of the time, he was able to convince himself it was genuine. That they were all trying.

And yeah, he knew it wouldn’t always be this good. He was still getting used to all of this, to being a part of things, so they were cutting him some slack. Letting him adjust. Giving him time to get comfortable.

Honestly, at times it was a bit painfully obvious how hard they were trying, especially considering how far from perfect he’d been despite his best efforts.

They’d let far too many things go in favor of getting Virgil to relax. Things that never would slide if he’d been around longer.

He’d put a clean glass in the wrong cabinet after his first dinner with the light sides, and Patton had only smiled, quickly corrected him, and moved on.

He’d accidentally spilled his drink on the table, and Roman had just shut down his string of prepared apologies with an almost odd smile before actually offering to clean it up himself.

(Virgil had, of course, shut the offer down. He knew what they were doing, pretending his mistakes could be overlooked, but it didn’t mean he was useless. He was still trying to be good)

Virgil had even bumped right into Logan the other day, moving too fast through the darkened hallway in his haste to get to his room, causing the logical side to stumble and drop some papers he’d been holding. Virgil hadn’t even gotten a chance to open his mouth before Logan had gracefully picked up the papers, gently told Virgil to slow down, and continued on his way.

It was...really kind of sweet, once he realized what they were doing. They knew he was wary, knew he wanted this so badly. So they were giving him extra chances, careful to be gentle as he settled in, not wanting him to duck out again.

But now, weeks later, things had been changing. Not in a bad way, of course. Far from it. Things were just...more comfortable. More familiar. He was actually starting to feel like a part of their family, like maybe he could actually belong, and the others seemed to actually agree, gradually relaxing in his presence.

Of course, it also meant all those extra chances wouldn’t be handed out freely anymore. He couldn’t expect to get away with things so easily now that he was settled in.

Which was why he really shouldn’t be sneaking into Logan’s room.

He was just...he needed something to do. His anxiety had been through the roof since he’d woken up, making him antsy and restless, and with the others busy all day he hadn’t had an outlet since breakfast.

He’d noticed Logan had been lost in a book for the past few days, rambling on about it a bit once he was finished that morning, and while Virgil couldn’t exactly remember any details, something about the title and general idea had piqued his interest. Or maybe he was just desperate at this point.

It had been a while since he’d been able to get into a good book, but it usually did help him calm down.

And of course he could just ask Logan but...he could all too easily picture the logical side mocking the request or turning him down without question, and while Virgil knew it was unrealistic, he couldn’t muster up the courage.

But it was fine. He knew what the cover looked like, he’d find the book, read it alone in his room, and return it when he got the chance.

Easy.

Except...well, that thought went right out the window as soon as he actually stepped inside. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming with how much Logan valued literature.

He just hadn’t expected Logan’s bookshelf to be so big.

Jesus, how many books could a guy even read? Logan barely even had any free time as it was. His library took up an entire wall, floor to ceiling, and Virgil didn’t think he’d ever seen so many books in his entire life. It was like something out of the fantasy stories Logan liked to deny enjoying.

Virgil knew he should turn back. He was still trespassing, and there was no way he’d find the specific book he was looking for in the limited time he had.

But...maybe the specific book didn’t even matter. He could find something to read, maybe even a few, just to keep him occupied until Logan was distracted in a few days and he could return them.

He carefully shut the door behind him, waiting a moment like Logan would pop up at any moment, and carefully approached the shelf.

They were all clearly meticulously organized, first by genre, then author in alphabetical order, and Virgil wondered how long it had taken Logan to do.

He scanned the genres: fiction, nonfiction, historical fiction, sci-fi, textbooks, articles…

There was a brief moment of panic as he ran his finger along some of the book’s spines, frantically wondering if he would even be able to put it back in the right place, and what Logan would do if he found out Virgil had stolen--

“Greetings, Virgil.”

Virgil jumped so hard his shoulder slammed into the edge of the shelf, fear and realization hitting full force as two books toppled over and fell to the ground, leaving behind silence louder than a gunshot.

Virgil was frozen like a deer in headlights, gaze locked on Logan who was giving the fallen books a quizzical look.

“Apologies for startling you,” he said, which was not how Virgil was expecting this to start, but it was almost worse than the anger he knew was coming. “I hadn’t expected you to be in here.”

Virgil tried not to flinch, legs feeling like jello, panicked mind running through endless possibilities of how this was going to go. He’d seen Logan angry, of course, heard him yell, seen him lose himself to frustrated rants.

It was impossible to know for sure how Logan would handle this, though. Handle him. He would want to discover the best method for a lasting impression, right? He’d probably been waiting to experiment different responses.

“Virgil?”

“Sorry,” Virgil said quickly, realizing he’d gone silent. “Sorry, I wasn’t...um, I wasn’t stealing. I-I know how it looks but I promise I was gonna bring them back I was just...I-I knew you were busy so…”

He trailed off, heart sinking when it occurred to him just how guilty he sounded. He was a thief whether he was going to return them or not, and here he was, babbling like a scared child in front of the evidence.

He swallowed, knowing there was no way out of it. He shouldn’t be trying to make excuses. “S-sorry.”

He couldn’t meet Logan’s eyes, but he saw the logical side take a cautious step forward. “You were...oh, the books. Virgil, if you were interested in borrowing some reading material you could have simply asked.”

Virgil did flinch this time, the reminder like a punch to the gut. God, why couldn’t he have just asked. A few seconds of anxiety and a bit of awkwardness would have been worth avoiding this.

What the hell was wrong with him? How could he sneak around and steal from the people he tried so hard to earn the trust of?

“I...I know,” he managed. “I just...sorry. I shouldn’t have, um, yeah. I know I shouldn’t have snuck in.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Logan said, the blood rushing to Virgil’s ears as he came closer, voice nearly drowned out by his own racing heart. “It can hardly be considered sneaking- you do live here. Besides, I’ve read most of these already so you are welcome to--”

At the moment, all Virgil registered was Logan’s presence now beside him, and the hand moving forward just in the corner of his vision.

He was moving before he had the chance to even think about it, crumpling to the ground out of Logan’s reach, hands moving to protect his face, hunching his shoulders and waiting for the blow.

The blow that...that didn’t come.

“Virgil.”

Virgil flinched at his voice, biting his tongue to keep from whimpering. He could feel Logan standing above him, annoyed even more now, no doubt. What was he waiting for?

“Virgil,” he said again, softer this time. “Will you look at me, please?”

Oh. Oh, of course. Logan wouldn’t want to punish Virgil if he wasn’t sure the anxious side was even aware enough to understand. He wanted Virgil to see what he deserved.

He got that. He understood.

So he nodded, hating how hard it was, digging his nails into his palm when he felt himself growing dangerously close to hyperventilating. He wouldn’t let himself fall under a panic attack. He wouldn’t hurt Thomas because of this.

Virgil slowly raised his head, realizing idly that he was shaking. His throat felt tight, eyes burning, and Virgil kind of wished he could just hit himself.

God, what was wrong with him? He wasn’t going to cry. He couldn’t. He’d known what he was doing, knew all too well what would happen if he fucked it up, and he had (of course he had).

He deserved this. It was fine.

He was, however, mildly surprised to find Logan lowered to his level, the logical side crouched down on the balls of his feet, watching Virgil with an almost worried frown.

“Take some deep breaths, please,” he said. “I was only going to help you pick the books up off the floor. I apologize if I moved too quickly.”

Virgil shook his head, clenching his jaw to keep the teas at bay, not even sure how he was supposed to respond to that. Why the hell was Logan apologizing?

“It’s...it’s whatever,” he managed. “Sorry for, uh, you know. F-freaking out like...like that.”

“It’s quite alright.”

Virgil took a shaky breath, realizing Logan’s silence was probably him waiting to make sure he wasn’t about to send Virgil over the edge in any way that could affect Thomas.

His heart was in no way slowing, dread and apprehension rising unbearably but...but the waiting was only going to make it worse, the anticipation sickening. Best to get it over with.

“Alright,” he said, almost impressed with how steady his voice came out. “I’m ready.”

Virgil expected something to happen right then and there. He was less than prepared for the hesitation followed by...nothing?

“Ready?” Logan echoed. “Ready for...what?”

Virgil forced himself the shrug, still not able to quite reach Logan’s eyes, struggling to maintain nonchalance he didn’t feel in the slightest.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “However, uh...however you wanted to do it, I guess. Whatever you’re gonna do.”

A beat of silence and Virgil remained tense, bracing himself, willing himself to relax and take it. But all that happened was Logan awkwardly clearing his throat, leaning back on his heels.

“Well,” he said. “I...had only planned on replacing the fallen books and assisting you in picking out some things to read.”

Virgil nodded, blinking furiously to push back tears fighting to break through. “Ok? Uh, you mean...before or-or after?”

“I’m...I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Logan admitted, incredibly out of character. “Have I missed something? What...exactly do you believe is happening?”

Virgil wasn't exactly sure why that mattered. Was this...was this part of it? Making sure he understood?

“Uhm, I-I broke into your room? I mean...I know I shouldn’t have taken your stuff without asking. I know...I know that’s not ok. I’m sorry.”

He saw Logan tilt his head slightly, frown deepening. “It really is not an issue, Virgil. My books aren’t exactly locked away. I would only prefer you ask next time so I do not end up startling you, but you’re reacting as if I--”

He stopped himself, and Virgil saw the moment realization dawned, something in Logan’s expression hardening.

Oh. Of course. Logan hadn’t been sure Virgil would know something like this was coming.

But he did, of course. He understood, as much as he hated it. He was anxiety, there wasn’t any other way to handle him. There wasn’t a choice.

“Ah,” Logan said, softer than before. “I see.”

Virgil nodded again, heart still racing so fast he thought Logan might be able to hear it, glad that now they could at least get it over with.

But Logan still wasn’t moving, still talking in that achingly gentle voice. “Virgil, I have no intention of harming you in any way. I’m not even remotely upset with you.”

And that...that didn’t make any sense. Virgil had literally just gone into someone else’s room without permission, and Logan had just said he’d prefer to be asked so why--?

Unless...unless he was being given another chance. Again. Another chance he didn’t deserve in favor of over the top friendliness.

“Don’t,” he said, before he could even consider stopping himself. “Don’t keep doing this, Logan, please I...it’s ok, you guys don’t have to keep pretending. I know you’re angry, I know--”

“I’m not angry,” Logan interrupted, firm but somehow still gentle, and Virgil shrank back. “I believe we have a larger issue to discuss as a group but for now please understand that I am not angry with you. And even if I was, I would never intentionally bring you any harm. I know for a fact the others would not either.”

Virgil shook his head, hating all of this, hating feeling small and pitied, hated delaying the inevitable like things could work any other way.

He hated the treacherous, nagging hope in his chest.

“But they will,” he insisted. “You all will, I know you're just...waiting to make sure I won’t leave again but I won’t. I know it's how it works, ok? It’s fine.”

The lie tasted like acid on his tongue. But some of it was true, at least. He wouldn’t try to leave again. He was finally feeling like a part of things. And if he was good, well...maybe that could last.

Logan was silent for a long moment, and Virgil was just beginning to think he’d finally managed to convince him to set the pity aside when he was speaking again.

“Virgil, do you think you could accompany me to the commons? I believe it is imperative to discuss this with the others.”

Virgil froze, realizing he may have just made a simple situation worse by raising his voice. Did Logan really need to get everyone? It was bad enough that just Logan was upset with him but all of them...

But he knew better than to risk any further anger by arguing. And Logan was carefully offering a hand, palm up, no sudden movements or pain when Virgil hesitantly took it and was helped to his feet, so maybe...maybe Logan wasn’t actually angry.

Not right now, at least.

Logan led them down the hallway to the living room, Virgil unable to stop his trembling the entire time, legs a bit unsteady and weak. He almost wished the short walk took longer, dread building up in his gut the closer he got like a man being led to the gallows.

He had to remind himself to breathe when he saw both Patton and Roman already there, lounging casually, all smiles amid easy conversation.

Logan cleared his throat, Virgil left to shift awkwardly beside him, the other two sides immediately glancing up with bright, welcoming smiles.

Virgil felt guilt twist in his gut at having to ruin that.

“I believe,” Logan started. “That we need to have a...family meeting, as Patton might call it. There’s been a bit of a miscommunication that needs clearing up.”

“Everything alright?” Roman asked as Patton, cheerful as ever, waved them both over. Logan didn’t answer, and Virgil was too busy staring at the ground to think of a reply.

He ended up being seated on the couch beside Roman, Patton sitting across from him and Logan standing at the arm of the couch. For a moment nobody spoke, Roman and Patton clearly at a loss.

“Virgil,” Logan prompted. “Would you mind telling the others what happened from your point of view?”

Virgil’s eyes widened, head snapping up to look at Logan with something almost like betrayal, and any hope he’d had that this was going to be forgiven without consequences suddenly vanished.

But Logan was quick to reassure him, hand moving to rest against Virgil’s clenched fist. “I assure you, nothing about my previous statements will change. I only want to ensure they have all the context.”

Virgil shakily nodded, like he had any choice in the matter, trying not to wince when his voice came out small and breathy when he finally spoke.

“I...I went into Logan’s room,” he admitted, waiting for yelling that never came. “While he was with Thomas. I-I was looking for something to read but-but I was going to give it back, I promise, I wasn’t stealing I was just too anxious to ask, so I--”

“Wait,” Roman interjected, curiosity turning to something close to amusement. “That’s all you did? I steal from Logan all the time!”

Logan blinked. “You what?”

“Kiddos,” Patton chided, unable to help the small smile on his lips. “Now we usually don’t go into people’s rooms without asking but I’m sure Logan understood. What’s this all about?”

Virgil suddenly had absolutely no idea how to respond, this entire conversation now taking a much different turn than he’d expected.

What the hell was happening? Was this...part of it? It sure felt like he was being punished, but Patton’s smile was as genuine as ever.

Logan leaned forward, furrowing his brow.

“Virgil can you tell us what you believe is going to happen to you? What you thought was happening when I found you?”

Virgil, far too lost to do anything but comply blindly, couldn’t understand why Patton and Roman suddenly looked so confused.

“I was...I was going to be punished, right?” He didn’t understand the purpose of making him explain something everyone already knew. “I mean, Logan said he wasn’t mad so I guess I’m getting another chance but any other time I would’ve--”

“Wait a minute, what?” It was Roman’s turn to sound baffled, all his attention now focused solely on Virgil. “Punished? What do you mean, like- like grounding you? You aren’t a child, Virge.”

“I do not think that’s what he meant.”

“But he...Logan, he--”

“Virgil believed,” Logan cut him off, sounding more hesitant than Virgil had ever heard him. “That some type of...physical punishment was inevitable. At least, that is what I gathered.”

“You think we’re going to hit you?” Patton’s voice, verging on frantic, easily overpowered the others. “Over this? Over anything?”

Virgil flinched back against the couch, desperately trying to figure out what he’d done wrong, how he’d managed to make this so much worse than it was just five minutes ago.

“I don’t...I'm sorry?”

“We’re not going to punish you, kiddo,” he said, the word ‘punish’ almost spat out like something sour. “We’d never do that to you! Never.”

And oh, that was Patton, trying so hard to be kind, even when he was so visibly furious. Looking out for all of them to the end. Careful not to let Virgil’s emotions affect Thomas.

“You guys don’t have to keep doing this.”

Patton blinked, trying and failing to get Virgil to meet his eyes. “Keep doing what, kiddo?”

“I’m not gonna duck out again,” he said, the smile he offered meant to be reassuring but he was certain it was wobbly and frail. “I-I like it here. With you guys. You don’t need to keep...cutting me all this slack. I know I keep messing up and I know if this is going to...work I have to be--”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Roman’s language wasn’t even corrected, Patton hardly acknowledging the outburst at all, but the moral side looked somehow just as furious.

And there it was, genuine fear and panic returning with a vengeance, the sudden knowledge that he’d probably done irreversible damage in an effort to reassure them.

“Kiddo you...what is it that you think you’ve done wrong? You’re not...oh my god, you’re not talking about the little things, are you? Spills or- or misplacing something or...or…”

“I- yeah?” Because what else would he be talking about? “I’ve been...I’ve been trying to be good, so I-I don’t think I’ve done anything else to--”

“Is that how you think we handle things?” Roman was rigid beside him, his fury overwhelming, and Virgil hoped one of them would hurry up and just knock him unconscious. “So, what? If Logan drops something am I just supposed to hit him?”

“Roman,” Logan said, sounding oddly choked. “Please.”

And oh. Oh. The realization hit like a punch to the gut, and Virgil realized all at once why they were so upset with him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just a stupid misunderstanding.

Oh, god.

“No!” He insisted, voice a little stronger in his desperation for them to understand their mistake. “No, of course not! That’s not...guys, that's not what I meant.”

The tension in the room dropped a bit, Prince relaxing just slightly, but three pairs of eyes were still watching, painfully concerned.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you thought that,” Virgil continued, a little lightheaded. “Not you guys, never you guys. Obviously not, you all wouldn’t...you shouldn’t be punished like that. Ever. I promise I was just talking about me.”

He expected relief, understanding, and hopefully to just get this whole thing over with so they could hurry up and go back to normal.

But apparently he’d only managed to make everyone even more distressed. Logan and Roman’s eyes had gone wide and Patton...Patton had tears streaming down his face.

“Why would you think that?” It was quiet, barely a whisper, but Virgil had never heard Patton sound so furious, so cold and lifeless.

“I...I don’t know why you’re--”

“Virgil why would you think that?” Patton was standing now, taking a step away from the couch with a hand moving to cover his mouth. Logan reached for his shoulder, only to be quickly shrugged off.

“Patton, please attempt to calm down.”

“But he...he said...why, Virge? Why just you?”

Virgil blinked, fighting to swallow past the lump in his throat, still hopelessly lost to what he’d managed to do wrong. Did they...not know? Even Logan? Wasn’t it just...common sense?

“It’s...because it’s me?” he offered weakly. “I-I’m anxiety. I tend to- to mess things up, guys. I have to be, you know, dealt with differently so it doesn't affect Thomas as much, right?”

He was met only with deafening silence, before Logan cleared his throat, looking for once like he wasn’t entirely sure what he should be saying.

“That hardly seems logical,” he said, no malice behind it. “How would punishing you more severely do anything but succeed in making your mental state worse?”

“I...I don’t know. But it works. It makes me more...cautious. You guys haven’t really had to deal with me and my fuck ups before but now that I’m here you’ll have to...I just uh, figured you knew this, I guess. I thought everyone did.”

“No,” Roman said, hardly audible at all. “We didn’t.”

Oh. Well...at least it was out now. Virgil may not like it, but he knew getting hurt sometimes was necessary. If it made their lives better, it was worth it in the long run.

But still…

The thought that if he’d only known, realized sooner that their willingness to let things go and love him unconditionally really was genuine, he could have maybe lived without the fear of punishment for the first time in so long.

So much for that. All he’d done now was manage to make them angry, and he honestly wasn’t even sure what he’d done to make them all so upset.

“Who told you that?” Roman asked, Virgil wincing despite himself. “Was it...if it was my brother--”

“It wasn’t,” Virgil said, not really sure if that was the answer Roman wanted, but it was the truth. Remus and Janus had never been the ones to use any sort of physical violence on him, though Virgil never had any doubt that they could. “It was the others. I...they told me...I really thought you guys knew.”

Now, looking at it from a suddenly concerning perspective, he wasn’t even sure Remus or Janus had known.

“Sorry,” Virgil said to the silence, not even sure why anymore. “It wasn’t always that bad. That’s why I asked Logan, I wasn’t sure how you guys...uh, planned on doing it but apparently you didn’t even know you had to so we can--”

And suddenly Patton was gone, stalking through the kitchen doorway, practically leaving behind a visible trail of utter fury as he went, and Logan was following with one last worried glance over his shoulder.

Oh god, they were both mad. He’d managed to upset everyone, ruin everything in one conversation, and he couldn’t even apologize properly because he still didn’t know what he’d done wrong.

He’d just been trying to tell them it was ok, that there was no other way to deal with him, that it really wasn’t that big of a deal. He hated it, sure. It terrified him. He wanted so badly for it to stop but it couldn’t, it…

It couldn’t. Could it?

He felt Roman shift on the couch, probably to hurry and follow the others into the kitchen to get away from the mess on the couch they’d accidentally welcomed into their family.

Before he could stop himself Virgil was reaching forward, grabbing Roman’s sleeve with a weak, trembling hand.

“Please.” And there was absolutely no point in trying to hide the unsteady wobble of his voice. “Will you...I-I just don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Oh, Virgil.”

When Prince moved, there was a split second of blind panic where Virgil thought he was being attacked. But it faded as soon as he registered strong arms around him, pulling him against Roman’s chest, and Virgil immediately burst into tears.

Roman was shushing him gently, holding him tight but somehow not uncomfortably confining, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair as he muttered quiet reassurances.

Virgil could only sob into his chest, overtaken by hiccuping gasps that left him dizzy and weak and unable to stop.

And yet he was distantly aware that through his tears he hadn’t stopped his string of endless apologies, the desperate words falling without his permission.

“You’re alright, darling,” Roman said, impossibly soft. “You’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I-I ma-made him mad,” he insisted, breath catching on nearly every word as he tried in vain to calm down enough to speak properly. “Patton, I-I...h-he was mad, he’s upset and he’s...he’ll--”

“Patton isn’t angry,” Roman said. “He’s just a little upset. But not at you! You haven’t done anything.”

“But I…” he paused, aware enough to consider the words before he said them, how utterly unfair and selfish they were. But maybe…

“I don’t want you guys to hurt me.”

“We would never,” Roman said, holding tighter without hesitation. “I know you won’t believe this right away, and you’ll need to hear it from the others too, but just listen to me for now, ok?”

Roman pulled back, but only slightly. Virgil could still feel the Prince's heart beneath his own shaking fingers, and the creative side carefully cupped Virgil’s face in his hands.

“Nobody will ever hurt you again, Virgil. Nobody. I know we’ve only recently become friends, but I swear to you, for the rest of your life, you never have to be afraid of that again. Not from me, not from the others. Not from anyone.”

Virgil struggled to breathe, chest aching, lungs screaming for air, but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. “But they...you have to th-they said--”

“They were lying,” Princey said, with so much venom Virgil had to forcibly remind himself that Roman wasn’t angry with him. “You heard Logan, it doesn’t make sense. No one should...you didn’t deserve that, Virge.”

But...but he’d...all this time he’d just…

“Patton will you please--”

“No, Logan! I can’t I- did you hear him?”

Patton and Logan were still in the next room over, and Virgil could now just make out the two of them standing at the threshold. He forced himself not to whimper at the obvious anger that came from both of them, but didn’t stop himself from clutching at Roman tighter, beyond grateful when Princey did the same.

“I did,” Logan said. “I was standing right there. But Patton--”

“How could they…god, how could they just--?”

“Patton.” Logan hadn’t yelled, not exactly, but it was loud and stern enough to quiet the other’s rant. “I know. I understand that you’re upset- we all are. But right now Virgil thinks you’re upset with him.”

Virgil’s breath hitched in the sudden silence that followed, doing his best to focus instead on Roman’s breathing, feeling the Prince move to rub along Virgil’s back, still hushing and whispering quiet reassurances.

He cringed when he heard a tiny gasp followed quickly by two pairs of footsteps making their way towards the couch, and he wondered just how far Roman would have to go to keep his promise.

“Oh, baby I’m so sorry.” That was Patton’s voice right above him, soft and sad and...and no longer quite so angry. “Honey...can you look at me please?”

Virgil tensed, reluctantly moving his head away from Roman’s chest, face burning as he let the others see his tear stained face, heart clenching when he realized Patton wasn’t much better off.

“Sorry,” Virgil whispered, guided more on frantic instinct than anything else. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Patton reached forward, slow and nonthreatening, lacing his fingers with Virgil’s. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you, kiddo. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. We would never do that.”

And god, Virgil wanted so badly to believe that, to hold onto every word, every sympathetic gaze, everything that was so clearly real love rather than pity and never let it go.

He wanted to feel safe with them. He wanted it more than anything.

But...but they had all been angry. He’d seen it just moments ago, heard the unmistakable fury in their voices.

And maybe he’d spoken aloud without realizing, or maybe Logan was just exceptionally good at reading him, because suddenly the logical side was crouched beside Patton, carefully meeting Virgil’s watery eyes.

“We were not angry at you,” he said slowly. “We’re only angry at whoever thought it was alright to hurt you. Who made you think you could ever deserve it.”

“But I…” he didn’t know why he was arguing, why he was frantically searching for reasons to destroy something he wanted to desperately. He settled for the only reason he’d ever really been given. “I’m anxiety.”

“You do represent Thomas’s fears, yes,” Logan said. “As well as many other fundamental functions.”

“That doesn’t make you bad, kiddo,” Patton chimed in. “We love you. All of you. We’re all gonna mess up sometimes, and that’s ok. Mistakes are part of being human.”

“Well technically we are not human,” Logan pointed out, earning an exasperated sigh from Roman. “But Patton’s point still stands. Each and every one of us will make mistakes. That is, of course, why we have each other. Not to punish, but to assist each other.”

And that...wow, that sounded good. Impossibly good. God, how did he manage to surround himself with the kindest people in the universe?

“But what if I…” he swallowed, trying to figure out how to phrase his worries. “If I do something wrong, like...like really bad--”

“Then we will discuss it as a group,” Logan said. “And work together to determine what happened and how to fix it without any lasting negative effects. Not just for Thomas, but for all of us.”

“Indeed!” Roman agreed with his usual flair, reaching around to lightly squeeze Patton and Virgil’s intertwined fingers. “And if any of the others attempt to bring you harm again, they’ll have to get through me first!”

“All of us,” Patton said, wiping his eyes with his free hand and flashing Princey a grateful smile. “We won’t let that happen to you again.”

Virgil shrugged, overwhelmed, aware the gesture did nothing to mask the emotion in his eyes. “It’s...it’s really ok, you guys. They aren’t like you, they were just...doing what they thought they had to.”

Logan frowned, averting his gaze. “Unlikely.”

“That doesn’t make it ok,” Patton said before Virgil could question exactly what that meant. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “And we can see it left you really afraid, kiddo.”

“I-I guess. Yeah.”

“Sometimes talking about traumatic experiences can be the first step to moving past them,” Logan said. “And we will, of course, be willing to listen and help however we can.”

Virgil... didn’t really want to talk about. He still wasn't quite able to wrap his head around the fact that it wasn’t a necessity, never actually had been, a part of him still wholly convinced this was some kind of cruel, awful trick.

But...but Logan was looking at him with such gentle earnestness, Roman and Patton both nodding and smiling in gentle encouragement, those doubts were quickly being pushed to the side. At least for now.

They all looked so eager to help, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to shut them down the way his panicked brain, so used to isolation, was screaming at him to do.

And besides, maybe it could help. Maybe talking would help him come to terms with...whatever it really was that had happened.

But not right now. He wasn't sure he could handle anything else.

“Maybe,” he said after a moment. “Just, uh...not now. I don’t...I mean, i-if that’s ok, I don’t think I’m...ready.”

“Of course, sweetie,” Patton said, not sounding disappointed in the slightest, only understanding and patient. “Whenever you’re ready. You can come to us in your own time.”

“Is there...anything we can do for you now?” Roman asked. “Anything to make you feel better?”

“I guess, uh-” he paused, wondering if it was too much, too selfish a thing to ask. “Maybe just...stay here for a bit? All of us? Only if- if you aren’t busy, obviously, it’s ok if you are, I just thought maybe--”

“I think that is an excellent suggestion, Virgil,” Logan said. “Having some company will do you good.”

Patton practically squealed, squeezing Virgil’s hand before hurrying to his feet, blinding smile on his face. “Ooh! We can make some snacks and bring some blankets over! Be right back!”

Virgil was carefully maneuvered (probably a bit overly careful, like he was glass that could shatter at any moment) so he was now comfortably pressed against Logan’s side, Roman hurrying to follow Patton with promises to return in seconds, departing with a kiss to Virgil’s forehead.

Virgil was almost surprised when Logan’s arm moved to wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close, almost as protective and warm as Roman. He’d have thought Logan would be more averse to physical content.

He’d never been so glad to be mistaken, basking in the warmth like it was a sunlit room.

Virgil took a breath, breathing a bit easier now. “I really am sorry. I probably...really freaked you out, huh?”

“No apologies necessary,” Logan said. “I believe it’s safe to say you were much more...err, freaked out, as you would say.”

Virgil smiled, relaxing into his hold, but there was still something heavy sitting in his chest, nagging at him to voice it aloud.

“I feel like an idiot.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.” He didn’t move, terrified he’d lose his nerve without the warmth at his side. “I...it was stupid. All of this. I actually thought that...I still don’t really think that this can work. Without...doing all that when I screw up. I want to but it’s...I thought there wasn’t any other way.”

“There is no reason for you to be held to a different standard than anyone else,” Logan said, slow and careful. “We plan only on treating you as an equal. As someone we care very much for.”

“I should have known,” he muttered. “You guys are r-really...really great. I shouldn’t have accused you of that.”

There was a beat of silence that stretched on just a moment too long, and any other time Virgil might have taken that as a perfectly reasonable excuse to begin panicking all over again.

But with Logan’s protective hold still firmly around him, the easy warmth in his chest that lingered from everyone’s kind words...he couldn’t find it in him to be particularly worried over Logan taking a moment to think.

“You did not accuse us of anything,” the logical side said, continuing before Virgil could argue. “You reacted to what you assumed to be normal, no one can fault you for that. You’ve been taught to have a very particular mindset. As...upsetting as it is, your reaction was perfectly logical based on the information you had.”

Logan’s arm moved, just for a moment, to reach around and squeeze Virgil’s hand, just like Patton and Roman had done, just another reminder of newfound safety.

“What we need to do now,” Logan said. “Is work on making sure you never feel that way again.”

Virgil nodded against him, finding that, at least for the moment, his want to believe, to be safe and welcomed, was enough to outweigh the storm of doubt in his racing mind.

“Ok,” he said, glancing up just in time to see Logan’s relieved smile, loosening his hold as Roman and Patton hurried back to the living room. “Thank you.”

As the four of them settled down and rearranged themselves, there was an all too familiar burning in Virgil’s eyes, a tight twisting in his chest. But this time, it wasn’t from panic or fear.

This time, if he cried from this feeling, from being content and accepted, it might not be the worst thing in the world.

#sanders sides #fanfiction #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #polysanders #prinxiety #analogical #moxiety #angst #writing

748 notes · View notes

imkylotrash · 3 years

Text

Regret Like A Riot

Pairing: Sam Harvey x reader

Request: Something like the girls are trying to set them up cause they're really close and like each other but are scared to admit it. Anonymous

A/N It went a little different then your request but I really hope you like it regardless.

You promise yourself you’ll tell him if he just makes it through the night. If he just stays alive long enough for the Burned One to be killed, you’ll tell him everything. You’ll admit to why you always turn clumsy around him and can hardly formulate a sentence. You’ll admit to blushing even if you only catch sight of his back as he’s walking down the hallway. You’ll admit to everything in the morning if he just stays alive. And you truly do have every intention of telling him but then you see Musa holding his hand and taking away his pain. You see the way she looks at him and your heart cracks just slightly because you know you’ll never be able to compete with her. And frankly, you don’t want to compete with her. If she makes him happy, then you’re happy. That’s why you stay silent when morning arrives. You don’t say anything as you help him to his room or when he asks you to stay a while until he falls asleep.

“I love you,” you whisper telling yourself that it counts even though he’s far away in his dreams. You spend a moment too long looking at him sleeping before you tiptoe to the door and exit his bedroom.

“You’re still here?” Caught in the act. Slowly you turn around to face Terra.

“He was scared he might have nightmares so I stayed to make sure he fell asleep,” you explain not meeting her eyes at any point. The last thing you need right now is for Terra to know why you really stayed. As much as you love her, you also know that she’s a blabber mouth and not one to tell secrets too.

“That was nice of you.” She’s too tired to notice anything it seems.

“I lit the fireplace in there to keep him warm but someone should probably check on it in a few hours.” Terra stumbles slightly but manages to nod.

“You must be exhausted. Get some sleep, I’ll make sure he’s alright.” You don’t have to be a mind fairy to feel her gratefulness. She hugs you before heading off to her own room. You’re guessing everyone will be asleep right now so you figure you should get some rest too. Just as you’re about to leave, you hear him scream. You’re by his side immediately clasping his hand in yours.

“Are you okay? Should I get your dad?” He hugs you tightly trying to regain control of his breathing. It must’ve been a nightmare.

“It came back,” he whimpers. You don’t have to ask what he means. It’s as fresh in your mind as it is in his.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay? Just get some rest.” You pull over a chair and take his hand in yours once more. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep but this time you stay. Even though your entire body is screaming for rest, you force yourself to stay awake. You’ll sleep when you feel absolutely sure Sam is okay. But even with that conviction, there comes a point where your body just gives up. It’s night time when you do wake up. Sam is still sleeping but the fire has gone out making the room feel like a freezer. It’s almost second nature to you now when you wave your hand towards the ashes and create a fire. It takes four days before you leave the room. He asked you to stay and you’re not about to say no. On the fourth day, you return to your own room ready to stand under the shower until the warm water runs out but the girls have something else planned.

“How long have you been dating Sam?” Musa asks. You make a sound that’s somewhere between laughing and choking.

“I’m not dating Sam. We’re best friends, you know that.” This is not the time for to ask these questions. You’re exhausted and drained. All you want to do is clean up and then sleep for weeks.

“Best friends care for each other, yeah. But you just spent the last couple of days glued to his side,” Stella chips in

“He almost died. Terra’s been there too!” It’s a very weak argument considering Terra is his sister. Of course she’s going to be there. By the looks on their faces no one believes you.

“Fine!” you exclaim ready to own up to your feelings if it means you can get some sleep, “I like Sam. I really really like him. But it’s never going to happen so what’s the point?”

“What are you talking about? Sam literally never stops talking about you. He is most definitely in love with you,” Terra says. Pure exhaustion threatens to turn you into a weeping mess.

“I saw the moment he shared with you, Musa. When you took his pain. I don’t want to ruin that for you.”

“What moment? I helped him because I could. Because he’s my friend and so is Terra. I don’t have any feelings whatsoever for him.” It’s like a weight is lifted from your shoulders when you realise that there might be a chance for you.

“If you won’t tell him, I will. You guys would be the cutest couple and we need something good,” Bloom smiles. The rest of the girls are quick to nod in agreement.

“Terra?” you ask because you need to hear her say that it’s okay. You need to know that you’re not burning a bridge with her. You’ve known her and Sam for as long as you can remember. They’ve become your family.

“Of course it’s okay! I’ve been shipping the two of you since we were ten.” You hug her tightly knowing you’ll never be able to explain to her how much it means that she thinks you’re good enough for Sam.

“I have to go,” you mumble already heading out the door when Stella stops you.

“You’re not about to confess your love for that boy looking like that. You’ve waited how many years? It can wait another hour.” And with that she whisks you into the bathroom along with the other girls. Exactly one hour later your hair is done, you have a very natural base of makeup on and Stella has picked out the perfect outfit.

“Thank you for your help, girls.” You bring them in for a group hug and then you’re off. Down the hall and to the left. Once you’re in front his door, you hesitate. What if Terra has gotten this all wrong? But you promised yourself you’d tell him if you both made it through that night so you knock on the door and anxiously wait for him to open the door.

“Hey. Miss me already?” he jokes but you’re too nervous to laugh.

“What’s wrong?” he asks always so aware of your mood.

“Nothing’s wrong. Or maybe it is. I guess it depends on a lot of things, but inherently there’s nothing wrong at the moment. I just-”

“You’re rambling. Spill it.” He drags you into his room and closes the door. You’ve been alone together in his room a million times before but now you’re painfully aware of how his shirt is hugging his body and how tempting it is to just rip it off him.

“I like you.”

“I like you too.” He doesn’t get it and you have no idea how to begin explaining. Your thoughts are coming and going too fast for you to form a plan for what you want to say.

“Breathe,” he reminds you. Two deep breaths later and you feel slightly calmer.

“When I say I like you, I don’t mean as a friend. I mean I really, truly care for you.” He stays quiet perhaps in shock. You never should’ve told him.

“I’m going to go,” you say hoping for a quick exit but he stops you.

“You like me as more than a friend?” You’re not entirely sure why he needs you to why he needs to rub it in your face so you just nod. Again, he goes quiet but he’s blocking the door so there’s no way you can leave unless jumping out the window is an option. It feels like a good idea right about now.

“Why?” His question brings you back to reality and away from the window.

“Why? Because you’re you. And you’re pretty amazing.” He opens his mouth and closes it again. He repeats this action three times before something clicks inside of him. You see the change in his face as he leans down towards you. Is this really happening? You don’t have time to think when his lips connect with yours. Time stops, cue fireworks. You both jump when you accidentally start the fireplace.

“Sorry. Too many positive feelings, I guess.” You blush deciding that your shoes are very interesting.

“I really care about you too. I have for a long time. But you’re this badass fire fairy, I had no idea how to tell you.”

“You like me?” He lifts your head and nods. You kiss him again revelling in the feeling of his body pressed against yours. He slowly backs you towards the bed and you make no objections. You’ve waited so long for this moment.

“This should really go,” you whisper tugging at his shirt. He doesn’t need to be told twice. It’s gone before you can blink and seeing him with no shirt makes you not want to blink at all.

“Have I ever mentioned you’re really hot?” He chuckles hugging you tightly. His skin is still slightly pink where the Burned One got him. You try to ignore the stabbing feeling in your heart when you think back to that night. You don’t know what you’d done if he hadn’t made it. You’re just about to pull off your shirt when the door burst open and five fairies fall through the opening.

“Terra?” Sam asks darting over to pick up his shirt from the floor.

“Oh my God!” Aisha laughs, “I knew we should’ve left them alone.”

“Well, I wanted to know how it went. He’s my brother,” Terra defends herself trying to maintain at least some dignity.

“By the looks of it, everything went really well.” Stella smirks looking from Sam to you. Looking at all of them, you feel infinitely grateful to have them in your life. These people have become your family. So even though you’re itching to get Sam alone, you don’t mind it when you all settle down on the floor to talk. The girls want to know every little detail and you try to give them as much as possible while still keeping just a few things private. Sam sneaks his arm around you and kisses the top of your head but other than that he just listens. You regret not telling him sooner. You hate to think how much time was waisted when you could’ve been cuddled up next to him like you are right now.

“Later,” you whisper to Sam at one point when the other girls are distracted by the gossip.

“Absolutely.”

#sam harvey x reader #sam harvey gif #sam harvey blurb #sam harvey imagine #sam harvey #fate winx club #fate the winx saga #winx saga

201 notes · View notes

joontier · 3 years

Text

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report vii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: FINALLY~ we get to see a little bit of JK’s pov heh

word count: 2.4k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist] @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

“I hope you don’t mind us picking up a friend first then a drive thru afterwards... we did promise someone a ride to the ceremony as well.” Chohee eyes Jungkook through the rear-view mirror. “Plus, we haven’t had any breakfast yet sooo…” Your new passenger uncharacteristically nods with unbridled enthusiasm. Huh.

“Totally not an issue at all. If you don’t mind, breakfast is on me,” he announces, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. You raise a freshly threaded eyebrow. There is no way this kid is actually offering to pay for your food. Jungkook clears his throat quietly, “Um...since you guys offered me a ride...you know…”

Without even having to look at each other, you just know you and Chohee have similar smiles plastered on each of your faces. “Well,” Chohee makes a quick glance at the man seated at the back, “if you insist, Jungkook-ssi. How nice of you to do so.”

You’re positive Jeon Jungkook will regret he even offered - in half an hour. Probably less.

Just recently, Chohee has decided to relive an old hobby of hers: teasing you relentlessly with men clearly way out of your league until you actually end up investing much more time than intended (just as planned by Chohee) - until you come to the realization that there wasn’t going to be even the slightest chance of them even liking you back. End point is - you end up getting heartbroken for irrational reasons.

Chohee, whose eyes sparkle with mirth with every mention of the Jimin, continues her teasing, despite your constant reminders to have her energy and time diverted to another subject, instead of poking her head through your currently non-existent love life.

It’s an undisputed fact that Jimin is a cutie and quite the charmer, especially with his heroic deed of saving your sorry ass from getting your drinked spiked at the bar. However, there is a part of you that knows the slightest bit of infatuation you might feel or might have felt for Jimin was probably caused by the lack of interaction with men for the majority of your collegiate life. Of course, you always came back to your principles, that of which is prioritizing your career to shun love interests.

Admittedly, you might have gotten distracted once, but you won’t ever let that happen again.

In line with your best friend’s attempt to have you score a date and a boyfriend eventually, (her timeline, not yours!)Chohee had even gone so far as offering Jimin a ride to the oath taking ceremony that’s going to be held today at the Coex convention center at Gangnam.

With Jimin’s apartment just a couple of blocks away from the gasoline station, you spot him right away when Chohee turns right into the corner. He’s stood by the entrance of his apartment building, looking effortlessly attractive as he scrolls through his phone while waiting.

Chohee presses her fist lightly against the center of the wheel, the car emitting a soft honk to get Jimin’s attention. Jimin gives a curt wave in acknowledgment and reaches between his legs to grab his satchel. As soon as Jimin opens the car door, his head jolts slightly backward in surprise when he sees another passenger already inside.

Chohee does the ice-breaker, introducing Jungkook to Jimin while she drives off. “Just before we got to your place, we had to fill the tank first and whaddya know? Met Jungkook at the gas station too! His bike broke down and I’ve offered him a ride - ergo, your new seatmate.” She adds a thumbs up. “Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin.”

Contrary to Chohee’s cheerful voice mere seconds ago, awkward silence ensues after the two men bow to each other in greeting. The only subject of sanity the car was holding onto was the soft voice of Chohee’s navigation app coming from her phone on the dashboard.

Why was it so hard to talk when you’ve all got at least a few things in common?

Right, maybe it’s the fact that Jimin may or may not have known about your beef with Jeon Jungkook. Chohee’s doing, obviously.

Thankfully, you spot a Burger King joint along the way and propose getting a greasy breakfast instead of looking for other options. There are murmurs of agreement heard in the suddenly cramped space of your best friend’s car. “Jungkook-ssi, breakfast still on you, yeah?” Chohee asks, joining the queue.

“Uh…yeah-”

“Perfect! Just making sure because _________ and I are famished!” Okay - that wasn’t exactly the word you were looking for, but if it gets you the free meal, then you’re absolutely ravenous. Chohee’s eyes briefly pass yours before sending a wink in Jungkook’s direction. “How ‘bout you Jimin-ssi? You hungry?”

He looks at you, then Chohee, then at Jungkook. “I’m fine, I’m not hungry.” You see Jungkook trying painfully hard to not let his eyes dart around too much. Just then, a low rumble erupts from Jimin’s stomach. Woops. Your brain can dictate your emotions but tummy would never lie outright.

“Jimin-ssi!” Jungkook clasps a hand on the blond’s shoulder. “It’s fine! Breakfast is on me. Order up, bro!”

With Jimin still looking hesitant, Jungkook decides to add a little fairy dust to his encouragement, “think of it as a mini celebration of us finally getting to be licensed doctors in a few hours!” Jimin gives in with very evident reluctance, even offering to pay for the whole group instead at one point.

Your swear you see hesitation cross Jungkook’s eyes briefly, but you’re glad he’s a man of honor, even if it be for this particular instance only, firmly dismissing Jimin’s proposal. Which is perfect, honestly, because this time you get a chance at revenge and a very hearty breakfast.

“No crumbs on the floor, please!”

From the backseat, you see Jungkook eyeing your paper bags on yours and Chohee’s laps, face stoic as ever. Emphasis on bags. A little more concentration and Jungkook can pretty much send lasers blasting through his eyes with the way he’s scrutinizing your orders.

As shameless as it sounds, you and Chohee were never ones to back out of a free meal - and make the most out of it, especially when one had offered so nicely. So imagine Jungkook’s reaction when he and Jimin only got a Whopper meal and you and Chohee get upgraded full meals.

“Doesn’t seem like we’re the ones who should be worrying about crumbs…” Jungkook mutters, taking a bite of his fry that’s a little too harsh for a slice of a poor fried potato.

“You say something Jungkook?” Chohee queries, unabashedly letting out a small burp after taking a sip of her chocolate flavored milkshake. Bowing his head, Jimin tries to hide his smile as he takes a bite of his burger. You decide to step in, wanting to add a little more MSG to your breakfast menu this fine morning.

“Hey Chee, heard of the news last Monday? There had been recent occurrences of drivers kicking out their passengers in the middle of the expressway, especially this road in particular… talk about some zombie apocalypse shenanigans...I wonder why though…”

Jungkook clears his throat, addressing you this time. “Your strawberry milkshake...good, yeah?” With cheeks flushed, Jungkook dares not to look forward, murmuring his regrets over ordering more food next time.

You nod with genuine gusto, throwing him an additional thumbs-up, which only causes Jungkook to sulk slightly in his seat. You eat the rest of your food with a bright smile. Ah, free food - what else is there to say?

“If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.”

After reading the Hippocratic oath, the newly declared licensed medical doctors collectively put their hands down and take their seats. There is an immediate sense of fulfillment heavy in the air. Nobody can blame them - not when one has gruelled through six years of medical school.

Jungkook inhales deeply, yet he still feels like he’s out of breath.

He draws in another long one, savoring each second of exhale afterwards. From his peripheral vision, Jungkook watches you as you wave endlessly to the someone on the far right where the family and relatives are seated. Though he can’t see much from afar, with the way your hands are moving slower by the second, he figures you’ve already managed to catch the attention of whoever it is you were waving at.

Jungkook diverts his eyes somewhere else, eventually landing on the stage where he sees his own father, standing behind the podium as he gives - what people beside him would consider - a ‘motivational’ speech in front of all the new doctors of Korea.

He wonders if he could even see him, if he knew that his own son actually made it through college, if he realized that they were under the same roof at this very moment - an occurrence he never thought would happen again.

Jungkook reverts his eyes back to you, watching you in secret as you talk to yourself while trying to address someone else. So you were waving to your parents after all. Cute. The man couldn’t fight back the small smile etching onto his face.

He was happy for you - a genuine statement, even though majority, if not all, your encounters consist of you both bickering like small kids… And yet, he can’t deny the strong feeling of envy brewing at his heart, knowing that he could never have the same type of interaction you had with your parents, with how tight you all seem.

Jungkook felt sick. Even though you ordered twice as much as he did, he felt like throwing up. He wanted this ceremony to be over with already.

Much to Jungkook’s relief, the program ends shortly after that. Excited to greet and congratulate the new batch of doctors, people from all sides of the venue rush to the entrance. With literally nowhere else to go, Jungkook decides to follow you through the crowd, in the hopes that you’ll lead him to Chohee and Jimin so he could properly thank them for the ride and he could be on his way.

He’s surprised to not see you the least bothered by it, but then again, the convention center is packed with both the oath-takers and their relatives, so you might have really not known that he’s been following you all along.

Like usual, it’s Chohee who notices him first. This girl is everywhere, all the time.

“Jungkook, you’re here!”

Chohee's acknowledgement of his presence causes you to turn in your heel quickly to verify it. You stare at him briefly, opening your mouth as if to say something when someone calls out your name. “Mom!! Dad!!”

Your English call causes a few onlookers and Jungkook recalls somebody once pointing out that you were a foreigner - and that you were also the first one to finish at the top of the class at SNU.

With Chohee’s parents tailing yours, they rush to their own daughter, congratulating her with a hug and a cute bouquet of tulips. As Jimin appears with his own party not too long afterwards, Jungkook figures it’s his cue to leave. At this rate, none of you would have noticed if he actually left.

Just as Jungkook was about to take off, a small hand grabs his wrist. You’re looking up at him and he swears he sees your lips curve upward a little before dragging him back to your little group. Stunned as ever, Jungkook wonders if he hinted on a little bit of concern in your features… and you smiled at him! For the first time! At least that’s what he thought he saw.

Admittedly, all interactions between you and him were not the most friendly. Jungkook knew he acted like a dick a couple of times, but it’s the only way he knows that might allow you to lower your guard because the only thing he was certain of was that you get worked up every time you see him.

Regardless of whether or not it really was a smile, Jungkook finds himself standing in the midst of this gathering of some sort. “Moms, Dads, this is Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin.”

The moms suddenly gush over them, while their fathers eye the two younger men warily. “Are you?… you’re not…” Chohee’s mother nudges her husband a little too obviously. “If they are, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?” she grits, a bright smile plastered on her face. Jungkook wanted to laugh at the uncanny resemblance with her daughter.

“Oh what young fine men you are! Mrs. Park, you must be very proud of your son!” Your mother exclaims, resting her cheek on her palm. “But Jungkook-ssi, your parents must be lost then… my husband and I couldn’t figure out how this whole convention center works either…”

Jungkook shakes his head slowly, lips pursed. “Oh. Um, my parents won’t make it today. They’re very busy people…” Jungkook drags his words, hoping they’ll drop the subject.

Well, they did, but there was an inevitable pregnant pause after that - one which Jungkook was avoiding in the first place. Chohee’s mother clasps her hands together, breaking the awkward tension. “Uh - would you like to join us then? A little celebration for a memorable day?”

Jungkook bows his head curtly and declines the offer. He wanted to, but he knows it’ll only do more damage to the wound. “It’s okay, Ma’am. I still have quite a lot of things to do today, like getting my motorcycle fixed.” Jungkook nods to Chohee and the girl briefly recalls how they got to the venue together.

Jungkook doesn’t take long after that, bidding his goodbye to everyone and thanking Chohee for the ride that morning. “Well, I’ll be going now. __________-ssi, Chohee-ssi, Jimin-ssi, guess I’ll….see you when I see you.”

“See you when we see you then,” you reply and Jungkook swears it’s an actual smile on your face this time. He returns the action and gets on his way, hoping that he really does get to see you all another time.

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #bts series #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff

85 notes · View notes