#w: after the tone: voicemails i want to keep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Text

Save Us

Moon Boys X f!Reader

Summary: Two months after Marc broke up with you, you get a late night call from Steven that has you worried and rushing to help them. It's hard to face them again after things went wrong, but Marc is going to try and make it up to you.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, Marc is kinda toxic, Marc needs therapy, Marc has issues, Marc needs a hug, THIS STORY IS ANGSTY, may be triggering if you've been in a toxic relationship before, sad, smut, p in v creampie, argument, breakup, exes to lovers trope, soft dom Steven, sorry in advance, no physical abuse

Major Trigger Warning: this story explores themes of emotional abuse. It was very self indulgent. If you’ve been a victim of emotional abuse (or are sensitive to topics like this) then this may be upsetting to you. You’ve been warned. I seriously went the full self indulgent route with this one. Had to work some personal stuff out and it helped!

Word Count: 9.9k (What in the...)

You were awoken in the dead of night to your phone vibrating loudly on the end table at your bedside. You groaned, sitting up and looking at the screen. Clear as day, it said, My Boys🌙. You still needed to change their name in your phone, or completely block their number. It rang until it went to voicemail, but that’s when you saw that there were seven missed calls.

You hadn’t heard from any of them in the two months since Marc had broken up with you, and now they’d called you seven times. It rang again, this time you jumped up and grabbed it immediately. You didn’t want to talk to them, but you knew it must be serious for one of them to be actually calling you.

“H-hello? Hello?” You cleared your throat.

“Dove? Darling?” You heard Steven on the other end and you let out an exhale.

You weren’t ready to deal with Marc, but Steven…at first you were relieved it was him, but the more you thought about it, Steven was worse. Steven might be able to convince you to come back.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, feeling your chest already tighten at the tone of his voice.

“No, no I’m afraid it’s not.” He was sobbing. You felt your own eyes start welling up. “We need your help.”

“Are you in danger? What’s wrong?” You tried to keep the panic down in your voice.

“I…I think I’m a little drunk, but we’re sobering up.” You could hear it now that he’d mentioned it, the slurring of his words as he spoke. “I haven’t been in the front in a long time, it’s always Marc, he won’t…oh my…he won’t let Jake or me out. We’ve been trapped in there.”

“Ok, you need to tell me where you are, right now.” You demanded.

“I’m outside of a…” You heard him pull the phone away from his face.

“Hey, watch it!” Steven yelled.

You heard some scuffling, followed by some Spanish slurs, before the phone was picked up again.

“Mi princesa.” Jake said. “We’re at the corner of Elm and Main, at a place called Tiko’s. I can feel Marc trying to take over again…por favor, querida, we need you.”

The line went dead. It was rare that Jake uttered the words por favor, or we need you. Steven’s cries would remain burned into your memory for an eternity. He cried when you’d left too, and you still hadn’t forgotten the pain. It was all you thought about as you got yourself dressed and headed for their location. You knew right where it was, it was where you and Marc had first met.

------------------------

It was also where he went just before he broke up with you. He’d come home, wasted, completely obliterated and crying. It was constant, and you were sick of it. He refused to go to therapy, said it was for nutjobs, and he didn’t want them drugging him up. You understood, you sympathized, but instead you were stuck trying to handle his terrible self-loathing attitude, and toxic behavior.

“Why don’t you just fucking leave then? Huh? If you’re not happy then why don’t you just go!” His mouth turned into a hard line, his brow furrowed.

That was always his go to line whenever things got tough. Always telling you to leave if you didn’t like it. You sometimes wondered why he even asked you out in the first place if this is how he was.

“Ok Marc, is that really what you want? You want me to leave? Fine…you say it every time we fight so you know what, I’ll go then.”

The two of you had moved in together a year ago, but you moved in to his place, so almost everything was his, Steven’s and Jake’s. The TV that had a purple spot in the corner when you turned it on from the time Marc threw one of Steven’s books at it in a fit of rage; the stool at the breakfast bar that had a wobbly leg from the time Marc pushed it over while he was drunk and yelling at you; and the dresser in the bedroom that had a broken drawer from when he punched it, it was all his.

It was heartbreaking to walk away from the other two though. They didn’t have anything to do with it. When Marc backed out, retreating to the headspace, too upset to handle the pressure, Jake came out. That was the final straw. He couldn’t even be bothered to have a conversation with his girlfriend after berating her for over an hour. He did it time and time again, and this time…you’d had enough.

“Princesa, please don’t go.” Jake said, walking up to you quickly while you started filling a bag with clothes.

“Jake.” You pulled your arm back quickly when he grabbed it.

“Cariño.” He grabbed your arm again.

“No!” You yelled a little too loudly in your apartment. “I’m done Jake. I can’t do this. You want someone to blame? Blame Marc.”

Jake was never one to give up easily, so he must’ve been able to tell how serious you were when he let go of your arm again and forfeited the body to Steven. The bastard, he knew that of the three, Steven would be the one to get you to stay. He’d done it time and time again. Always telling you that he’d confront Marc himself and that he’d work on making Marc be better for the four of you, but even Steven couldn’t help Marc, you were convinced at this point that no one could.

“Darling please,” there came the waterworks. Even when it wasn’t your fault, Steven made you feel guilty. “He’s gotten a little better, yeah? Look…”

You were still filling your bag with clothes while Steven walked to the kitchen and came back with a card.

“He got you this for your birthday.” He held the birthday card in his hand like it was supposed to be the one thing stitching the relationship together. “I didn’t even have to remind him! He did it on his own!”

You stopped, holding a pair of jeans in your hands. You looked at Steven. He was desperate. His eyes were glossed over while he tried to keep it together. You remembered when Marc got you that card, it was the day after a fight, and he felt guilty. He only ever did anything nice when he felt guilty the next day, never when it really counted.

“They’re both assholes for putting you through this.” You said, feeling yourself choking up. “I can’t do this anymore Steven, Marc doesn’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here.”

“But he’s nice sometimes, look he also…” Steven was scrambling around the apartment.

You walked to the bathroom and grabbed your toothbrush and other personal care items. When you looked in the mirror, you noticed your saddened face and realized how much you’d been crying. You’d probably been crying for at least an hour. You wiped your cheeks and went back out to the bedroom where Steven was standing with a vase.

“He got you this vase, remember when you were sick and he went and got you flowers?” Steven asked. You saw his eyebrows raise in an attempt to look happier, but they were fighting to furrow.

“Steven, please go.” You grabbed the vase and put it in the bathroom trash. “You know he only got me those because I had just complained the day before about how he never does anything nice for me? He only does something nice after I’ve complained about it.”

“I can’t just go.” He looked like a lost puppy trying to get you to keep him. “They’re both just out, quiet, I wish I could leave.”

You sighed, wiping your face and sniffling, “then they’re both fucked for doing that to you. You don’t need to be here, dealing with this. Marc is selfish, and…that’s it! He’s selfish! He’s the one who did this, he’s the one who should be here. He’s a fucking coward.”

You threw the bathroom items in your bag and then zipped it.

“Tell Marc I’ll have my brother come back for the rest of my things.” You grabbed your purse and pulled out your keys.

“Sweetheart, love, please!” Steven raised his voice, cracking under the weight of sorrow.

You turned around, “I’m so so sorry baby. I really am.” You said through your own strained voice. “You deserve better than what he’s putting you through, and so do I, I wish I could help you.”

------------------------

With that, and one last look at Steven’s broken face and waterfall of tears, you slammed the door and never looked back, until now, when you were turning the corner on the street to find Jake leaned against the building, smoking a cigarette. You got out of the car and pulled your jacket around yourself tighter. You felt like an idiot for coming back after what Marc put you through, but there you were. You reminded yourself that you weren’t there for Marc, you were there for Jake and for Steven.

“Jake, come on.” You said, waving him over.

“Oh, hermosa, I missed you.” He winked as he walked over to you. He was stinking of alcohol and smoke.

“Put that thing out.” You grabbed it from his lips and dropped it, crushing the butt under your shoe. “Let’s go.” You took his hand, to which he pulled you in close.

“You are as beautiful as the day you left, perhaps even more.” He cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you but you pulled back.

“I didn’t come here to get back together with you, I came back to get you home in one piece.” You pushed him back, and he stumbled and fell.

He shook his head, “Wha-oh right, I’m here and…” Steven looked up at you, it always amazed you how different each of them looked regardless of the fact that they shared the same body. “Oh my…love!”

Steven stood up and couldn’t hide the smile plastered on his drunken face. He gripped your shoulders before pulling you in for a hug. He wasn’t going to try and kiss you like Jake had, he was too respectful of your boundaries to do anything like that. Even when you were dating, he always respected your personal space.

“We really got ourselves in a predicament, yeah? Well…” He chuckled, “Marc did. I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you.”

“I need you to just get in the car, we can talk on the way back to your place.” You said, urging him into the vehicle.

When you got in on your side you let out a heavy sigh and put the car in drive before heading toward their apartment. The streetlights afforded you a split second of light before fading into darkness again. The radio was off, leaving nothing but silence. You heard Steven sniffle, fighting back the urge to cry.

“Tell me what happened, why did you call? I made it very clear-”

“Marc isn’t letting me or Jake out, it’s just headspace all day every day. He’s destroying us.” Steven said, choking on his words. “I don’t know when the last time we ate something proper was. I’m so hungry.” He pressed a hand to his stomach.

“Do you have food at the house?” You asked, pulling down a different road.

“Y-yeah I think he’s got a few things…I don’t know.” He said, laying his head back. “I missed you.” He was crying again, “I’m sorry, I said I wasn’t going to do this before I called you.”

“It’s fine. I’m…I’m glad you called me, Steven.” You said, keeping your eyes on the road.

“We had a lot of time to think after you left, and…he really didn’t deserve you, I never should’ve asked you to stay. I’m so sorry.” Just when Steven’s cries became overwhelmingly loud, they stopped suddenly, and you knew it was Jake coming back. You’d grown to know them so well that you could tell the differences between the way they each breathed when they were upset.

“Keep him in there please, at all costs.” You said coldly, trying to keep your composure.

“Si.” Was all he said. You knew he understood.

Steven wasn’t a child, and didn’t need to be treated like one, but he was much more sensitive than the other two, and you knew that he was living a nightmare having to see you and go through this, and having you just within arm’s reach, but not being able to really have you. He had been a passenger in Marc’s path of destruction, just like you had, the only difference was that you could walk away, Steven just had to suffer in there and you felt terrible for him and Jake both.

“Marc has completely taken over. Saw a girl at the bar tonight though who kinda looked like you and then he went loco, yelled at her, he was so drunk, and then he went away.” You watched him pull a cigarette pack from his pocket. “Steven was so happy to be out, he just ran outside and knew he had to call you to get you to help. Something about that girl must’ve knocked Marc back.”

“You’re smoking again? I thought you quit.” You grabbed the pack and threw it into the back seat.

“It’s Marc’s pack.” He explained, dropping his hands on his lap. You could tell you irritated him.

Marc wasn’t a smoker. At least, he hadn’t been while you were together. Jake had been, but insisted on quitting after getting to know you.

“What has he been doing?” You asked as you pulled onto their street.

“Nothing.” Jake was aggravated. “He’s been doing absolutely fucking nothing except destroying himself and dragging us down with him.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve been in there for two months, dos.” He held up two fingers to emphasize his point.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you said, you didn’t know what else you could say.

“I’m not mad at you, Cariño, I could never be mad at you.” He said calmly as you pulled into the driveway.

“Jake…” You put the car in park. “Did he hurt anyone?”

“No, no one except you, and Steven.” He said softly.

“And you. You might not be showing it but, I know you’re feeling it too.” You said quietly. He always stayed quiet about his feelings, but he wasn’t emotionless, he was just less expressive.

His hand reached over and grabbed yours.

“You have always been so caring, querida.” You tried to keep it inside, but a smirk played at the corners of your mouth, Jake was always so smooth.

“Please stop.” You pulled your hand out from under his and opened the door quickly.

If you’d let his hand linger, you’d be inclined to lean into it, and you couldn’t allow yourself to do that. You damned yourself for even being there in the first place. You still had the key to their apartment and opened the door so the slightly staggering Jake could make his way inside. You made sure to lock it tightly and returned your keys to your pocket before helping Jake get to a chair at the table.

“Here.” You opened the fridge, only to find…nothing.

There were about two tablespoons of butter, opened, several sauce packets strewn about, a moldy tomato, and about three-twelve packs of beer. You took note that one of the twelve packs was down a few beers. You let out a heavy sigh.

“Guess he’s living on air and beer then?” You slammed the fridge closed.

“There’s some ramen I think, in the cupboard.” Jake said, letting out a huff. “Steven would appreciate the taste of food you know…”

“Think he can handle it?” You opened the cupboard and found some packages of dried noodles. “Being here with me?”

“He’s calmed down. I think he will be ok.” And with that, Jake was gone.

“I’m fine.” Steven said, sucking in a deep breath. “Really.”

You grabbed some water from the tap and handed it to Steven whose hands were trembling. He drank from the cup in big gulps, when he finished it, you poured him some more.

“Let me make you something to eat.” You said, turning to the cupboards.

There wasn’t one pan that you could use. They were all in the sink, or on the stove, and they were all dirty. Of course this couldn’t just be easy.

“He usually just microwaves somethin’, or eats the noodles dry.” You groaned at Steven’s words.

“I…nevermind.” You wanted to say how frustrated you were to be there trying to make food for them, and running into every obstacle along the way, but you decided not to dump that on Steven.

Instead you ran the hot water and grabbed the sponge. You soaked it and then started washing the dishes, lathering soap on each one in silence, knowing Steven’s eyes were on your back. You felt saddened by the memories flooding through your head, thinking about all the times you’d been at the sink doing the dishes for them before.

------------------------

There was one time when Steven was fronting and he was sitting at the table while you did dishes after dinner, and he was going on about some Egyptian God you couldn’t remember the name of now. You were smiling in this memory, unable to suppress the joy that came to you while listening to him chattering on about his passions. When you’d finished scrubbing and turned to look at him. He was absolutely beaming, and so were you. You were…happy then.

“How did we get so lucky?” He asked, standing up and walking over to you.

He put his hands on your waist and kissed your forehead.

“Well, Jake’s a smooth talker, you’re thoughtful and sweet and Marc…” you trailed off.

You and Marc had never seen eye to eye. He was always pushing you away. Always telling you how he should just disappear and let Jake and Steven have the body so that you could be happy. But that wasn’t what you wanted, at least, that’s what you told him. You wondered what made you fall for him in the first place sometimes, but that didn’t matter now, you loved him, right?

“Marc what?” You watched his entire body language change, and he let go of you, stepping back. He chuckled, “hard to find anything to huh? What do I keep telling you?”

You groaned, wishing that he would’ve just let you and Steven have a nice evening, but you’d struck a nerve, and Marc loved to fight. He liked to make you feel bad, at least that’s how it felt, and then leave right when you pushed too far so that Jake or Steven were left to pick up the pieces. You tried to be understanding, you knew he had trauma, but sometimes he was just cruel.

“Please don’t start, Marc, not tonight I’m exhausted.” You walked toward the bedroom and he followed, hot on your heels.

“No! Don’t you walk away from me…!” He said your name with venom laced around each letter, “we never get to talk, the other two always get the best of you and then when I come in, you…you just walk away!”

You pressed your lips together tightly in frustration.

“Are you suggesting that when I see you, Marc, that you give me the best version of yourself? Hm? Because from the way I see it, every time you’re fronting, you treat me like you don’t fucking want me here!” You felt your eyes starting to gloss over. “Not to mention, you say I’m an ass for walking away? You always retreat into the headspace every single time we argue!”

“You ever think that maybe I actually don’t want you here? How many times have I told you to leave? If I treat you so badly, then just go!” He yelled.

“Why can’t you just stop being an asshole and then I don’t have to leave?! I don’t want to go Marc, I want you to love me and treat me like you want me around!” Now you couldn’t stop the dam from flooding over. Tears were coming down, and fast, and you knew it was only a matter of time before Marc dipped out. “I love you, I don’t want to go.”

“No, you don’t love me, you love Steven, and Jake, but not me.” He said, and his words were followed by silence that hung heavily in the air.

He was right, and you weren’t going to say it out loud, but he was right. When you’d first met them, it was just Marc at first. He was sweet, caring, he treated you like a princess. The more you got to know the boys, the more you grew to love them all, and the longer you were together, the more Marc started to push you away. Because you deserved better than him, and he was no good for you, or at least that’s what he said.

------------------------

That was the moment you’d realized you really didn’t love Marc anymore. You still held him in your heart, but the spark wasn’t there. Instead it was replaced with an anxiousness that pooled in your gut like a bad meal. You turned and looked at Steven once you’d finished the dishes. He was staring up at you from the chair with those big eyes you loved so much.

“Let me get this food going before he takes over again.” You grabbed one of the pots you cleaned and filled it with water before putting it on the stove.

When you turned around, Steven was standing with his hands balled into nervous fists at his sides, eyes trained on the floor. He did that when he wanted to say something but knew he shouldn’t. You put a hand on his shoulder and he relaxed a little bit and met your gaze.

“What is it?” You asked. “Talk to me?”

“No, nope, I’m, I’m fine.” He said, pressing his lips together tightly.

“Steven, it’s three am, I drove over here to help you, I washed the dishes and now I’m cooking you food. I think you can talk to me.” You said firmly.

He let out an exhale, “I miss you s’all.”

“I know, I miss you too. I just can’t…I can’t…”

“I know. I hate him too.” Steven looked agitated, more agitated than you’d seen him in a long time.

------------------------

The last time he was this bold regarding Marc was that same night, right after Marc had accused you of not loving him. After dropping those words on you, he left, letting Steven have you, the blubbering crying mess, that he’d left behind. It wasn’t the first time that you cried because of Marc, and each time chipped away at Steven more and more until he’d had enough too.

“Love,” he rushed over to you, pulling you in tightly, letting you soak his shirt for the umpteenth time, “you know if I could hit him, I would.”

You didn’t respond, you just sobbed into Steven’s chest, trying to let yourself be soothed by the gentle way he rubbed your back. You liked the way he smelled, the way they all smelled, and you kissed his chest just above where your tears had soaked his shirt.

“I love you, Steven, and I love Marc too.” You said, unsure whether you were trying to convince him or yourself, or maybe you were trying to convince the man hiding inside his own head.

“I know darling, I think he knows, he just gets caught up in his own head sometimes.” He chuckled, “well, I guess all three of us do.”

That forced a small amused breath to escape you. The air already felt lighter, and you were starting to cope with the emotional turmoil Marc had put you through. This was how it always went, Marc would start a fight, you’d be left with Steven or Jake, and slowly your emotions would come back to normal with the help of his alters just in time for him to break you down again. It was a never ending cycle.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” You murmured, pulling back. “Steven, I love you, I love all three of you but-“

He silenced you with his lips over yours.

“That’s enough of that.” He said in a forceful but quiet tone. “I’ll keep him in there if I have to, I’m not letting him push you away from us.”

You wanted to believe him, and you wished he’d been able to do it, but he couldn’t. That didn’t stop him from seizing the moment while he had it though, pulling you in for soft kisses and entangled tongues. Steven’s favorite body part was your breasts, that’s how you could tell sometimes if the boys switched mid session. One time Jake had taken over while Steven was buried in your chest and immediately began squeezing your rear.

Not now though, now Steven was dragging your shirt up while he trekked his hand over your abdomen on his way to squeeze your rounded mound. You gasped a heated moan into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and entangling your fingers into his curls. The supporting hand on your back gripped tightly, pulling you in so hard you thought you might melt into one being.

“I love you, Steven.” You said, going in for more breathy kisses.

“I love you too darling.” He started slowly pushing you backward until the backs of your knees met the mattress.

You fell back, chest heaving. Steven was ripping off Marc’s jacket and shirt and you were quick to get your top off as well. He preferred you leave in your bra, he said he liked to take it off himself. Something about the way they looked when he unclasped the strap in the back, you didn’t fully understand, but you didn’t argue either.

“Wow…” he said, looking down at you. “You’re so beautiful, dove.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. You were sure you looked frightful, eyes puffy from tears, makeup streamed down your face, but Steven always told you how pretty you were, no matter what. He was good at that. He climbed over you, hovering his body closely over yours. You felt the peak of his erection pressing onto your leg through his pants.

“Oh, Steven…” you moaned, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his lips to yours in deep, bruising kisses.

He was grinding himself on your leg, moaning every time he opened his mouth over yours in another wet and messy kiss. Supporting himself on one elbow, he reached around your back and unhooked your bra with one hand before disconnecting your lips to look at your chest. When he pulled the bra up over your arms, he stared in awe at your tits, wasting no more time before latching his mouth over one of them.

“Oh, f-fuck.” You stammered, gripping the back of his head.

One of his hands ran up your abdomen and grabbed your other nipple, pinching it between his fingers. You arched your back, pushing your chest further into his face and hand. You felt him gently churning his hips and grinding into you. He was sloppily sucking on your peak, covering your tit in his saliva.

“Mm, feels good baby.” You groaned, rolling your hips upward, wishing you’d taken your pants off before this.

Steven, who you’d thought would be the most timid when it came to sex, became silently demanding in the bedroom when it came to what you were and weren’t allowed to do. He liked to be the one to undress you, and he liked to be the one who started the physical piece. He liked to take his time, making you yearn until you nearly exploded the moment he entered you.

He leaned back. The shadow of his erection was oh so apparent in his sweats. It took everything inside of you not to sit forward and grab it. Steven’s little curl fell in front of his eyes, and he didn’t bother to brush it away as he unbuttoned your jeans and tugged them off.

“Oh love, look you’ve soaked straight through your little panties there.” He leaned over, burying his face in the fabric of your underpants and inhaling deeply. His pussy drunken eyes, hooded and dark, peered over your mound at you. “I’m just going to have a little taste, darling…just a little…”

He moved your panties to the side and ran his tongue along your slit, flicking sharply once he got to your clit. A gasp escaped your lips as you shifted your hips forward toward Steven’s face. He pressed a large hand on your abdomen, holding you down.

“Sh-shit.” You gripped the sheets tightly.

Steven, despite Jake’s overall skill in the bedroom, was the best at eating pussy. The way his tongue glided over each part of your cunt, and the way he slurped and groaned to your taste like he was savoring each drop made you lose your mind. He knew to put a hand down to keep you in place, otherwise your hips would force him off the bed completely. He looked up at you, eyes dark and hungry, before looking back down at his work. You tangled one of your hands into his hair, urging him on.

“Mm, Steven you always know just…oh shit…just what to do baby.” You cooed, tugging at his curls

If there was one way to help you get over a fight with Marc, this was it, and Steven and Jake knew that. They’d fuck you until you could hardly walk and then cuddle you while you fell asleep.

------------------------

Steven was quiet now while you finished making the ramen noodles. You had to keep your back to him while you cooked, otherwise you were going to break down and fall into bed with him and that wouldn’t be good for either of you. Now that you were finished, he was sitting at the table again. You put the noodle bowl in front of him with a fork.

“I hope you like it.” You said genuinely.

Steven looked up at you, “it’s wonderful love, really.”

Steven seemed happy, at least, somewhat, to be getting some food in his stomach, even if it wasn’t the most nutritious. You wondered if he’d had the chance to enjoy any sort of meal since Marc had taken over, but from the way he and Jaked talked, this was the first time either of them had been out in a long time.

You kept trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care about Marc, but a big part of you was curious as to why he took over the boy all that time. The other part of you already kind of knew.

“He really has been fronting this whole time? Why?” You walked over and sat at the table across from Steven.

Steven shrugged, “you know him, he likes to suffer, thinks he’s some kind of hero if he takes the pain himself. A bit messed up innit? Usually once the pain part is over, I come out yeah? Not anymore, the pain part never ends. It’s just…he’s always hurtin’.”

“I’m surprised that Jake hasn’t taken over, when things get really tough, he’s usually right there, ready to deal with it.” You idly picked at a tear in the tablecloth.

“I think Jake likes watching Marc…well…destroy himself.” He stuffed some noodles in his mouth. Steven was probably the only person in the world who could talk with a mouthful that didn’t make you frustrated with their poor manners. “Problem is, it’s destroying us too, and I don’t want to die.” He gulped. “S’why I called you. I thought if anyone could help, it would be you.”

“I’m glad I could help get you home, but I’m…I’m not staying Steven.” The room got quiet again.

He reached a hand across the table and put it over yours. You should’ve stopped him. You should’ve pulled away and told him to cut the crap, but his hand, his gentle and soft hand made you feel warm. Nausea swept through you as you recalled more about your time with the boys.

------------------------

Marc was smiling from across the table at you, holding your hand tightly. You were smiling too. It had been a perfect night. It was New Year’s Eve, and you’d both decided to stay in, and spend it with each other. It was three nights before the breakup, three nights before he finally brought you to the breaking point. He laughed at a silly joke you made, and now he just looked at you with those eyes.

That’s why you’d fallen in love with Marc. He had a way of making you feel like you were the most important thing in the world to him. In fact, you were so important to him that he felt like you were better off without him. He had a troubled past, he didn’t hide that. He eased into telling you about the boys, afraid of scaring you off, but he told you about his mother and about his brother before you’d met the other two. In fact, knowing about his trauma was the only reason you didn’t call him crazy and leave when he told you about Jake and Steven.

He got up and leaned over the table, placing a peck on your forehead. He grabbed your plates and walked over to the sink, turning on the faucet to wash the dishes. Your phone buzzed. It was your brother.

Joe: Hey! I’m going to be in town tomorrow, is it cool if I come over?

“Oh, Joe is asking if he can come over tomorrow.” You paused. “Should be fine right?”

The dishes clanked in the sink and the faucet stopped. Not again, you thought.

“You act different when your brother is here.” He said, turning around and wiping his hands on a towel.

“He’s my brother, of course I act different with him than I do with-”

“No, I mean…you treat me different when he’s around.” He slapped the dish towel on the counter and walked to the living room.

You buried your face in your hands. It was a simple question. Can your brother come over tomorrow? There was no reason to say no, in fact, you only asked out of courtesy. It was a way of making sure you weren’t interfering with some unknown plans. Steven or Jake would’ve just said, of course, with some term of endearment attached to the end.

The night would be even worse if you didn’t follow Marc to the living room, so you got up and went to him. He was back to, staring out the window.

“Marc, I don’t want to fight with you, I’ll just text him and-”

“Yep, just tell him that your nutjob, douchebag boyfriend doesn’t want you around your family.” He said, keeping himself turned away from you. “Make me out to be the bad guy. You’re good at that.”

“Alright you know what? I’m not doing this, Marc.” You threw your arms up before walking to the door and grabbing your keys out of the change bowl.

“Yeah? So you’re just going to leave then?” He turned and looked at you now. “Good, it’s probably for the best.”

“Fuck you.” You slammed the door behind yourself.

You’d gone down to the parking lot and started your car but you didn’t leave yet. You just sat there, crying for a bit, thinking even more about what he’d said, you act different when your brother is here. You hated to admit when Marc was right, but you did act differently toward him. In fact, you downright avoided him. He and your brother didn’t always see eye to eye, and you hadn’t exactly told Joe about Marc’s…condition, so it wasn’t like one of the boys could take his place; Besides, you were sure that would’ve upset Marc even more, you asking one of them to replace him around your family. It would’ve made him feel even more inferior than he already did.

You further hated to admit that he didn’t deserve that. To do that would seem like you were ashamed of him. Like he was your little secret. The saddest thing though, was that it wasn’t the mental disorder that you were trying to hide from your brother, it was the way that Marc acted when your brother was around. You weren’t the only one that acted different with him around.

You laughed a lot, and joked with Joe, and you assumed Marc was probably jealous that you didn’t joke with him the same way, as though you hadn’t been close with your brother your entire life. So Marc would call Joe a punk and try to one-up him in almost everything, and it exhausted you.

While you sat there in your car, furious and thinking about what to do next, you surmised it must’ve been what Marc felt like, when he left the apartment in a huff, on the nights he didn’t hide behind the other two, and he went to the bar instead. You figured that if it worked for him, it would work for you, but you’d forgotten how busy it would be. You’d forgotten for a moment that it was New Year’s Eve.

That made it easier though. People were happy to buy you drinks, seeing that you’d walked into the bar in tears. Some guy offered to take you home, but you denied him, telling him you had three boyfriends waiting for you, to which he raised his eyebrows as if impressed and laughed. When you saw one of them out of the corner of your eye charging into the bar like he owned the place, you groaned.

The well dressed man in a paperboy cap and tie walked over, grabbing your arm.

“Come on, princesa.” You pulled back.

“Jake! I want to stay for one more song!” You shouted over the music.

“No, it’s time to go-”

You covered his mouth in a quick but gentle kiss, “por favor mi amor?” You asked as sweetly as you could.

Jake rolled his eyes, but you knew he couldn’t resist an opportunity to dance with you, especially not when you talked to him like that. A smile spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Dancing with Jake was more like foreplay than it was dancing. It always started facing each other. His hips would gently churn against you while you stood as close as you possibly could to him, chest to chest. His lips hardly left yours, and when they did, they instead found purchase on your neck.

The dancing always ended with your rear pressed against his erection while he dry humped you to the rhythm of the song. His leather covered fingers were around your throat while he kissed the side of your neck and cheek tenderly, drawing moans from you that couldn’t be heard over the music. By the time you finally agreed to leave, you were drunk, and a single finger stroke away from a full body, earth quaking orgasm.

You’d driven far, at least a half hour from home, giving Jake more than enough time to stick his hand in your pants while he drove and circle the smooth gloved fingers over your swollen clit. You were already so wet, he slid around easily. You gripped the door handle when you reached climax, moaning and gasping under his touch.

It didn’t stop there though, it never was that simple with Jake. He was going to give it to you when you got home. You’d been teasing his cock all night, running your hand over it through his nice pants. He would give you hell later for ruining them, as though he actually cared. As though he didn’t have ten more pairs at home.

Something about Jake made you feel different than the other two. You wanted to act out, you wanted to be the biggest brat you could just to see how far he’d push you back. The back and forth with Jake was fun though, it always ended in at least one orgasm from both of you, and smiles before dozing off. You were his little brat, and he adored putting you in your place.

That night was no different. You stumbled inside, he chased after you, closing the door with his foot. You were already removing your jacket.

“Get naked for me, cariño, papi will be in to check on you soon.” He said, giving you that smirk that caused your knees to buckle.

You went into the bedroom and wasted no time at all stripping down completely naked except for your panties. Jake always wanted you to keep your panties on, especially if they were wet. You sat at the end of the bed, waiting for him to come in. Be still your beating heart when he did.

His hat was off, likely resting on the coat hanger by the door, his jacket had been discarded as well. He was the most well dressed of the three, and boy did he make you drool standing there like that. His tie was loosened. His button down shirt was rolled up exposing his strong forearms and hands. He wiped his mouth, you were in awe watching the veins in his hands shift under the skin. He was one of the few men you’d seen that could make suspenders sexy.

“Princesa, you know that’s not how I like to see you…” He smirked at you again, an evil but playful grin.

You rolled over on your stomach and then up on all fours, presenting your rear to him proudly. He cooed about how beautiful your ass looked with a thin lacy fabric wedged between your cheeks. He brushed his bare palm over one of them and then smacked it gently. You heard the shuffling of his clothes being removed, along with the clanking from the metal on his belt.

The bed shifted when you felt him get behind you. His finger hooked under the waistband of your panties and slid down, pulling them out of your crack.

“Oh, look at you hermosa.” He used his other hand to feel around between your folds, drawing soft whines from you. “Did you like teasing me? Hm?”

“Yes, papi.” You groaned, lowering your head to the mattress and angling your rear up higher for him.

“You had a rough night, so I’ll go easy on you cariño.” He said, dropping his tie in front of your face.

You knew what to do. You put it around your neck, feeling the soft fabric against your throat, and then reached back, handing him the excess. You felt it tighten under his grip as he pulled back. Jake would never harm you, but he loved to hurt you. Sometimes he’d leave little bite marks that Steven would obsessively rub disinfectant over the next day. Other times he’d leave bruises on your waist from how hard he squeezed and fucked into you.

You’d teased him so much at the bar that he didn’t spend as much time on foreplay as he usually did, and instead kept your head level by tugging on his tie, and getting you in position to ravage you. Sliding into you was easy, you’d been ready since your orgasm in the car. He had one hand, squeezing on your hip that would periodically slap your asscheek and then go back in for a bruising hold over you.

“Si, princesa, you feel so tight, so…mmm.” He could usually last a long time, but you’d spent quite a while rubbing his cock on the dance floor, and he couldn’t hold out.

In truth you didn’t need Jake to last long though, the way he moved he always made you come, every single time. Almost every single time. On the few times he didn’t, he wasn’t afraid to get down behind you and eat his spend out of you while flicking his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves until you were gripping the sheets and begging for him to stop.

------------------------

You pulled your hand back from Steven’s, feeling a pang of guilt for holding it so long. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. As soon as your fingers left his, you saw the color leave his face. He dropped his fork and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Marc.” You said quietly.

He said your name coldly. He was fairly sober at this point. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed harshly. He reached for the glass of water and gulped some down. He was surprisingly gentle when he put the cup back down. You’d expected him to slam it.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” He said. “But I guess now that I’m here, it’s time for you to leave right?”

“Marc, you told me to go. Remember?” You were already resisting your fight or flight response kicking in.

“Didn’t actually think you would go.” He sighed and shook his head. “Probably for the best, right?”

“Never better.” You slid your chair out, standing up.

“You look good…baby.” He said.

“Goodbye, Marc.” You weren’t going to do this…not again.

You’d almost made it to the door. Your hand felt the draft through the broken trim on the doorframe from when Marc pulled it open too harshly so many times. You felt his hand…usually he just let you walk away, but his hand touched yours and you couldn’t stop yourself from turning to face him.

“Marc why are you doing this…please just-”

He closed the tense space between you, covering your mouth in his over and over until you felt like you might collapse. Part of you still tried to pull back, but it was pointless, not because he was holding on too tightly, but because you weren’t trying all that hard. You’d given in to his tender touch, his desperation, his need to keep you.

All you’d thought about all night were the bad times, but there were some good ones too, and they came flooding in while he kissed you, one soft peck after another.

------------------------

You were sitting at the bar the night you’d met, alone, and the handsome man in a forest-green shirt sat down next to you. He caught your eye immediately with his gorgeous smile and the way his eyes wrinkled when he laughed. You were completely enamored from the moment you laid eyes on Marc, entranced by his very being. The two of you drank far too much, and shared far too much that night.

You weren’t one to put out on the first date, nor when it was your first time talking to someone, but you’d made an exception for Marc. You found yourself at his place that night, listening to him coo about how beautiful you were with his face buried in your neck. He was so sweet, gentle, and kind, you wanted to be around him more and more.

Your second date, a real date, was at a restaurant you both hadn’t been to, but talked about wanting to try through your texts. It was the worst food you’d ever had, but sneaking into the bathroom to get fucked over the sink was worth the time and money spent on the bad meal.

It was more than just the sex though, of course that was great, but it was the way Marc really made you feel like you could be yourself around him. He held your hand everywhere you went, as though you were a prize and he’d won and wanted to show you off. When you agreed to be his girlfriend he started looking for excuses to say it. He would call to order pizza and say, yes, for my half I’d like pepperoni and my girlfriend would like the other half with just cheese, please.

So on the nights that he got destructive, it made things even harder. You knew where it was all coming from. Guilt. He felt like you were too good for him, so he had the, push her away before she can push me away, and the, she’s not going to leave on her own so I need to make her leave, mentality. The good times made the bad times feel that much worse, and made it that much harder to walk away when it got really rough.

No matter what he’d thrown at you, you were willing to work through it with him, if only he’d let you. It was when the other two started coming around that things got really tough for Marc, seeing the way you were with them, how you smiled, and the way they made you so happy. For him, you assumed, it made him feel even more like he wasn’t good enough for you. He was jealous, full of hatred for his own shortcomings and unable to get over the pain he brought upon himself. If only he would’ve just talked to you, instead of pushing you away, you wouldn’t be in the position you were in right then.

------------------------

You couldn’t help giving in though, letting him peel off your clothing layer by layer until you were in just your panties, and he was completely undressed, pressed up against you in the bed. Steven was your selfless lover, the one who treated sex like an artform, savoring every single piece of your body as though it were sacred. Jake was your rough and tough beatdown guy who always knew when you needed to be put in your place, but Marc…Marc knew you.

He knew just how to suck on your neck to get you whining and whimpering in ways that the other two could never dream of. He knew just what to say to make you squirm underneath him, begging for more. He kissed you deeply now, feeling around in your soaking wet panties for your clit, circling over it when he found it. You groaned into his mouth.

“Oh wow, baby, so fuckin’ wet.” He said, sliding a finger into your hole easily. “Can’t believe how soaked you are just for me.”

You arched your back, gasping, “oh, shit, Marc.” You wrapped both arms around his neck.

“Tell me how good that feels, tell me baby…” He begged, desperate for your words of praise.

“It feels so…oh shit…you feel so good.” You kept your eyes locked on his while you said it.

He covered your mouth in bruising kiss after bruising kiss while he shoved another finger into your wet cunt. You tangled your fingers into his curls, reveling in the way his moans deepend under your touch. He was so warm and familiar, no matter how much you hated yourself for giving in to him, you couldn’t deny how wonderful Marc felt while he fingered you.

“I want you…” You said, the desperation in your tone pissed you off, but you didn’t care.

“You do?” He asked in between kisses.

“Yes.” You breathed.

Normally, Marc would get you off twice, once with his mouth, fingers, and one time he got you off with his thigh, and then the second time he would get you off was by fucking you until you couldn’t see straight. Tonight he was so glad to have you there, you could tell by how he acted, that he didn’t second guess your request. He wasn’t going to make you wait to feel him inside of you. You could probably ask him for the moon right now and he’d hand it over to you.

He pulled his fingers from you and immediately stuck them between your lips. His eyes rolled back, Marc loved having his fingers sucked on while he fucked into you. You felt his cock glide to your hole.

“I wanna hear you tell me how my dick feels when I fuck you, baby.” He took his fingers from your mouth to guide himself into your cunt.

Your head flew back, nearly hitting the headboard when he finally thrust himself into you. It took you a moment to come down from the initial wave that jolted through your body. While Steven and Jake were usually fixated on breasts or ass, Marc was stuck with his mouth on your neck, leaving bruising hickeys and forcing pained groans from your lips. You wished he was terrible in bed, at least then you would’ve been able to resist him.

“Tell me baby, say it, please.” Marc was so needy, so desperate for your words, but you weren’t going to give them to him.

“No.” You said in a moan.

He didn’t even look at you, he just kept pushing into you, faster and harder, as though he could fuck the words from your mouth. You liked when Marc got a little rough with you. When Jake was rough, it was methodical, controlled, and intentional; When Marc got rough, he was jagged, unpredictable, and downright messy. He would huff while his skin smacked against yours in repetition, voice becoming more and more wrecked with each thrust.

“You’re gonna play this game, huh?” He lifted his head up and looked at you, lips pressed together tightly, dark brow furrowed.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” You spat back. His hand reached up and gripped your throat. “You gonna start fucking choking me now?”

“As if you need another reason to hate me.” He said between thrusts.

You never expected that more fighting would do you in, that that would be what got you there, but it did. Your body was heating, pooling within your core. You leaned your head back, arched your body upward, you were so close. Then all at once you were empty, Marc pulled out of you, but kept his eyes trained on yours, and his hand around your throat. Asshole.

“Tell me how bad you want it, and maybe I’ll keep going.” He was breathing heavily.

“No.” You whacked his arm away and tried to get up.

You were on the edge of the bed, almost pressing the ball of your foot to the cool wood floor when Marc’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against his chest. Instinctively you’d spread your legs over his knees. His erection was prodding between your folds. You felt his chest rising and falling against your spine. One of his hands pinched your nipple while the other guided his cock back into your cunt.

“Tell me.” He said softly.

From this position he could easily tease your clit while he fucked upward into you. This angle made him feel deeper, like he filled every bit of your channel, all the way until he couldn’t go any further. You rolled your head back over his shoulder. You hated how intimate this position felt, but you loved how it made your entire body burn.

“F-feels good…” You were practically drooling, and when he started sucking on your neck it was even worse.

“I wanna hear you, keep going.” He grunted and groaned while he kept thrusting into your tight, wet hole.

“You…oh shit…you fuck me so good, please don’t stop.” You begged, nearly crying with the need to feel yourself crashing over his girth.

“That’s right, yeah…” He continued circling his fingers over your swollen clit. “You gonna come for me babe?”

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop M-Marc it feels, oh baby it’s so…” It was coming back again, the heat, the tingling that turned you into a ragdoll.

You felt Marc’s thick cock harden inside of you, and you knew he wasn’t going to deny you this time. His arms tightened and his fingertips pinched your nipple almost to an unbearable point of agony. His other fingers didn’t stop circling though, drawing your orgasm out of you in soft circular motions. You were a panting, crying mess while your walls clamped down over him, and he was no different, groaning and grunting into your ear while he shot his hot spend into you.

“Fuck, baby.” He said as he started coming down from his orgasm.

Once you were both done, and your mind was stabilizing once more, you felt nothing but hatred for yourself, and guilt for what the other two may have witnessed from the headspace. You were sure that Jake knew, but you’d hoped that Steven had managed to get some rest. Without looking back at Marc, trying to avoid your shame, you went to the bathroom and cleaned yourself up. When you looked in the mirror, you were disgusted with the woman looking back. You promised yourself you would never do this, you thought.

When you came back out, Steven was looking back, wearing nothing but his sweats. You sucked in a deep breath, feeling only sorrow. This was it…the point in the road where you had to choose, and you weren’t sure you were strong enough to make that decision, so you were glad when the boys chose for you.

“He…erm…he knows.” Steven said softly. You heard his voice cracking.

“He knows what?” You asked.

“He knows that you have to go, and that you aren’t coming back.” Steven pulled a shirt over his torso. “I’d rather you didn’t go, I’d rather he go but…”

“He can’t.” You helped him finish his sentence.

“Right.” His bottom lip began to quiver.

You knew that the part of Marc that loved you wouldn’t allow for him to completely give up the body while you were present, and therefore the two of you would always be at each other’s throats. You couldn’t have Steven and Jake without Marc, because Marc couldn’t stay away, he just couldn’t, and so you, for your own sake, had to go, and never come back.

“I really am going to miss you, Steven, and Jake.” You walked up and placed a kiss on Steven’s tear stained cheek. “And you too Marc.”

You didn’t turn back around when you left, you didn’t check to make sure that they were ok, you just put your clothes back on, grabbed your keys, and walked out the door. You weren’t sure if your visit to them would have left them saved, or if Marc would continue to spiral and destroy them all, but you couldn’t stay, that much you knew for sure, no matter how much it pained you to go.

You had to do what was best for you for once, even if it nearly killed you.

AO3 LINK

TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275, @minigirl87, @ahookedheroespureheart, @ninebluehearts, @in-between-the-cafes

622 notes · View notes

devondespresso · 6 months

Text

WIP Ask Game

tagged by the lovely @itsthestrangestthings and with perfect timing too! I've just finished the outline for the next arc and need to get words down

Rules

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

(per usual I only have my one wip, so I'll be listing scenes from my Steve Henderson AU instead of different files. I'm also listing them with the short details i remember them by because they dont really have names lol)

Scenes

The Old Office (where's dustin's dad?)

Before Bed (we try and fail to talk about important things)

Family Dinner (with a side of overthinking)

Nightmare, but worse (for the love of god just talk about things)

Breakdown in the club(house) (as in the little play fort in dustins backyard)

Snippet

(and tags below)

Most of my work in the last 7 days has been trying to figure out what has been feeling off in some of my scenes i already jotted down, then putting together the outline for my next arc, so im being pretty loose with "words in the past 7 days" Chucks of this snippet were the most I've rewritten recently, but I'm definitely sharing more than just the rewritten parts because i can (Steve and Hopper has been one of my favorite dynamics to explore, especially within the context of the hospital and Hop's background)

___

But then a nurse came in, asking if his parents had been notified of his admission. She offered to call if they hadn’t yet, but Hopper promised he would take care of it.

He stood by the wall waiting for someone to pick up on the other line while Steve sat on the side of the bed and El curled up in a guest chair nearby. Hop stood there listening to several minutes of dialing sounds and voicemail over and over with no sign of stopping.

“If they won't pick up after 5 minutes they're not going to pick up after 10."

Hop glared over.

"Thank you, Harrington, very helpful." he grumbled but still gave up and set the phone back.

“Just tell the nurse they know and don’t worry about it.” he offered, laying back down.

“Yeah and just leave ‘em in the dark about their kid in the damn hospital.”

“I’ll call them later.”

Hopper huffed from the other side of the room. Steve tried not to focus on it, but after too long of a silence, especially after the building frustration, he had to look over.

Hop stood silent, leaned back against the wall. A mixture of thinking and working through his frustrations.

An unnerving amount of thinking for Hop, and his expressions were harder to read than most, having his own more subtle tells Steve hadn't known him long enough to recognize.

He looked over at Steve, gathering clues or something. Steve shot a face back, asking for an explanation.

He thought for a moment, then crossed his arms and walked over to him.

“Why don’t you want anyone here?”

Steve scooted back, sat up and crossed his arms back.

“Because it’s not that big of a deal-”

“That's a load of bull.”

Steve rolled his eyes, projecting annoyance to say This is not going to go anywhere.

“I’ve already dealt with a concussion on my own before and, surprise, it was fine.”

“That’s not it.” he said slow and cold: the tone he used to shut down that argument with Mike. “Tell me why.”

“I told you!” he said, pushing down more nerves to throw that tone back at him.

"No, you haven't."

"Well, what do you want me to say!"

“The truth, Harrington!” he yelled.

Steve froze in place, holding the scowl in place, keeping his eyes glued to Hopper to hide his reaction. Hopper caught himself, sighing and looking away in a self-directed disappointment. Only after the break in tension did Steve look away, staring at the wall.

Calm down, it was an accident. He didn’t mean to.

“I just want to know the truth, kid.” he backed up a good few feet, leaning back against the wall and looking at him firmly, “Because I can’t think of anyone who’d want to be completely alone in a hospital. Let alone a kid.”

He’s not like that, he’s trying not to be. He’s stopped.

His throat was tight and he could feel tears invading his eyes.

Not here, not here, not here

“You trying to prove something?” Hop guessed, taking his silence for stubbornness. He can work with that.

Steve threw a glare at him, getting up and going to the room’s bathroom, putting a lot of effort into appearing completely steady despite the dizziness. Hopper followed.

“Kid, I'm just trying to help.” He said, putting a hand on the door to keep him from opening it.

He’s not gonna drop it. Not trusting his voice to hold, Steve ripped out his wallet and shoved over a business card. Hop took it with his free hand, confusion distracting him enough to let Steve yank the door open and slip inside.

“Harringt-”

He slammed the door right behind him with a loud thud that made his breath catch. He quickly locked it, then held his breath a moment and closed his eyes. Then he breathed out slowly, quietly, and flicked the light on. Waited to hear Hopper’s footsteps leading away from the door back towards the phone before opening his eyes again.

Finally

___

Tags

@stobinesque @fag4dykestobin @museumgiftshoperaser @sharpbutsoft @spicysix @blushweddinggowns @marvel-ous-m @alexcharmsyou

(no pressure ofc 💕💕)

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve and hopper #hopper and steve #stevecentric #sad steve harrington #tw trauma #steve harrington has bad parents #devon's steve henderson au #devon thinks sometimes #wip game #wip ask game #wip weekend #wip wednesday

6 notes · View notes

ota-division · 1 year

Text

Birds of Prey Drama Track 1 - The Future Is Now

Pt. 2

— Ōta City, Ōta City Suburbs —

[Kira is in her car, driving home from work. The frown seen on her face indicates that she is not in the best of moods.]

Kira: Fucking old prick. *Growls* Getting on me for something that wasn't even my fault!

Earlier in the day...

— Ōta City, Ōta Police Station —

Kira: I really hope he's been golfing and it put him in a good mood. ...Or that he's had one of his oh-so-special "liquid lunches".

[After being informed that the mayor had wanted to speak with her, Kira sighed as she mentally prepared herself for the lecture she was about to receive.]

Kira: *Picking up the phone* Detective Chinen speaking.

Nishikawa Sanjiro[1]: *On the other end of the phone* Are you really a detective, Chinen? *Snarls* Are you?!

Kira: Well, I think...

Sanjiro: *Interrupts her* Because I don't believe a real detective would let the town work itself into such a frenzy of panic! I've barely been able to fend off the phone calls!

Kira: *Frowning* Panic? People don't seem too disturbed these days that we've been...

Sanjiro: *Interrupts her again* Well, maybe that was before that damn reporter decided to make a mockery of your investigation!

Kira: ...What?

[Seeing a newspaper laying nearby on another officer's desk, Kira was relieved it was today's issue and looked at the front page as bold black words sat on stark on the white paper, making the investigator's heart sink into her stomach as she read the headline.]

"The Misfit in Action Strikes Again! The Ōta City Police are left scratching their heads as daredevil rogue continues to outwit and outrun authorities! Will the villainous bandit continue to go unpunished? Find out more inside. Written by Iseri Akemi[2]."

Kira: *Crushing the paper in her fist* I am going to kill them!

Sanjiro: *Loudly* You'll do no such thing, Inspector. I will be dealing with that so-called reporter! You, on the other hand, will be out patrolling tomorrow night and showing the town you're on top of this.

Kira: Mayor, with all due respect, I really don't think me out patrolling will help get this investigation going.

Sanjiro: Well I'm afraid that's just too bad, Chinen. *In a mocking tone* Your precious police chief assured me that you were up to this job. And if you're not, tell me now, and I'll gladly find someone who is.

Kira: *Sighs, keeping her emotions in check* Understood, Mayor.

Sanjiro: Thank you, Inspector. I expect a copy of your report on my desk by Friday afternoon.

Kira: Yes sir.

[With that, the conversation ended, surprisingly, on a relatively calm and civil note. Placing the phone down on the receiver, the investigator groaned out loud as she placed a hand over her face, annoyed.]

???: Inspector?

[Lifting her head, Kira turned to the side and looked as the voice belonged to none other than the mayor's own son, Utamuro. Kira couldn't help but give the boy an annoyed look, though she knew none of what had transpired was his fault.]

Kira: Muro, do me a favor from now on.

Utamuro: *Worried* Y-yes ma'am?

Kira: *Turns to look at him* Next time, please do not surprise me with a call from your father. I need time to mentally prepare for it. If he calls, tell him I'm unavailable.

Utamuro: *Looks down in shame* Y-yes, ma'am. Sorry.

[Sighing, Kira gave the boy a pat on the shoulder before departing.]

Current time...

— Ōta City, Chinen Residence —

[Parking her car into the family's driveway, Kira was prepared to enter her adobe until she felt her cell phone vibrating in her pocket. Pulling it out, she frowned further as the Caller ID read 'Akemi'. She debated whether to let the call go straight to voicemail or answer it and see what the hell that obnoxious person wanted. Sighing, she hit the green 'Accept' button and placed the phone to her ear.]

Akemi: Hello, beautiful.

Kira: *Frowning at the nickname* What do you want, Kimmy?

Akemi: *In a tense voice* I just had the most interesting conversation with the mayor.

[Kira, though she knew it was wrong, found it hard to contain the half-smile on her face, as she could tell exactly how that "conversation" went.]

Akemi: Seems he didn't appreciate my story, especially considering the source of the information.

Kira: *Sarcastically* Gee, I wonder why? Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you were milking the mayor's own son for information?

Akemi: Oh, please! I didn't press the kid! If he didn't want me talking to him, all he had to do was say so! But he seemed quite pleased to tell me all I wanted to know.

Kira: Yes, and look what happened as a result. I got yelled at, and now I have to lose valuable sleep going on patrol because of you!

Akemi: *Nonchalantly* We all have to make sacrifices, beautiful. You are sadly not excluded from that.

Kira: *Annoyed* What do you want, Kimmy? Why are you calling me?

Akemi: I just called to let you know I won't be using the mayor's kid as a reference anymore. Of course, that now means I have to find another source of information. One that the mayor can't shut up so easily.

Kira: ...And? You called me just to tell me that?

Akemi: *Teasingly* That, and the fact that I'm always available if you need a good lay. I remember that you seemed so...

Kira: Goodbye, Kimmy.

[Hanging up the phone and ending the call before the reporter could react, Kira sighed as she walked up the doorstep and into the house.]

Kira: *Sighing* I'm home.

Taria: About time you got here, sis!

[Kira looked as her younger sister was sitting on the living room couch, watching T.V. while her older sister sat at the kitchen table, her hand on her head. She looked quite upset.]

Kira: *Suscipious* What's going on?

Chinami: *Looking up at her* I'm glad you're here, Kira. I needed to speak with you and Taria about something, so I was waiting until you got home.

Taria: Yeah! And apparently, it was so important, she said she needed both of us here. *Rolls her eyes*

Kira: *Nods* Give me a sec to get situated, and I'll be back.

[Heading to her room, the middle sister discarded her overcoat and switched into a tank shirt and some army cameo pants before coming back to the kitchen. Taria was there, her head resting on her fist, bored out of her mind. Chinami continued sitting at the head of the table, her hands clasped together. Kira took a seat in between the two, and as she did, Taria took that time to speak.]

Taria: Okay, we're all here. Now can you please spill what was so fucking important you had to wait for us?

[Sighing, more so out of her younger sister's impetuousness, Chinami reached into her pocket and took out the paper that was given to her by the officials from earlier in the day.]

Chinami: *Slides the paper to Kira* Some Chuohku officials visited me today.

[At this, both of the seer's younger sisters looked at their eldest sibling with shock and surprise in their eyes.]

Kira: *Surprised* C-Chuohku?

Chinami: *Nods* Yes.

Taria: What the hell for?! What did we do?

Chinami: *Sighs* The Prime Minister, Otome Tohoten, she requested that I work for her as her personal seer.

Kira: Again? You refused though, right?

Chinami: Of course.

Taria: Okay, you said 'no'. End of story, right?

Chinami: If only that were so. *Places her hands in front of her* Apparently, the Prime Minister's patience has run out. I've refused her so many times and now she demands that I pay for it.

Taria: Pay for it how? With money?

Chinami: *Looks at Taria* If it were just money, this wouldn't be so bad. No, she's demanding that I enter the Division Rap Battle.

[At the elder's announcement, time seemed to stand still. Both girls processed what their elder sibling had just said until the message became clear.]

Kira & Taria: ...What?!

Kira: You mean... they're forcing you to enter the D.R.B.?

Chinami: *Nods* Yes.

Taria: All because you didn't want to be the Prime Bitch's personal lackey to see into the future?!

Chinami: *Frowns* Crudely put, Taria, but yes.

[Kira, still in shock, looked at the paper Chinami had placed on the table. Picking it up, she looked at it and began reading it for everyone present.]

Kira: Dear Chinami Chinen, as you probably are aware, the upcoming Division Rap Battle Tournament will commence in just a few short weeks. As the leader of the Party of Words and Japan’s current Prime Minister, I am sending you this letter to inform you that, as of this moment, you are now a willing participant in the D.R.B., and have been selected to represent Ōta Division in the tournament. Along with this letter are three Hypnosis Microphones, one for you and two for people whom you will choose as your partners for the tournament.

Kira: You have exactly one week from today to find two other people in your division who will be fighting alongside you in the tournament. After you have found them, you will register their names, as well as the name of your team, in the roster. Your opponent(s) in the tournament is unknown at this present time, but information will be sent to you and your team in the coming weeks about the other teams. During that time, I advise you and your teammates practice with your HypMics and get familiar with one another's strengths and weaknesses so that you may prevail in the tournament.

Kira: The people of Ōta speak positively about you. Despite only being a seer and character evaluator, you have helped people's lives tremendously. Plus, considering your previous occupation as a singer and lyricist in one of the most well-known rap groups ever created, I believe you will add a great amount of flair to this tournament. I am looking forward to your performance. Do not disappoint me. Sincerely, Otome Tohoten.

Kira: P.S. Do keep in mind that your entry into this tournament is mandatory. Failure to register your team in time will be seen as insubordination and will be treated as such. You will be fined and jailed, and your siblings shall have to live without you. Do keep that in mind. If you do not wish to enter, then please come to Chuohku at your earliest convenience and we can see about having you and your division removed from the roster.

[As Kira finished reading the letter, everyone at the table was silent. Chinami, who couldn't read the letter due to her blindness, now wished she hadn't given Kira the letter, as hearing her read off word for word what was written made her heart hurt. Kira, likewise, was thinking similar thoughts. She worked for Chuohku, so she was familiar with the sort of underhanded things that they did and do. But this... blackmailing her own sister? This took the cake.]

Taria: Those... those fucking bitches!

Kira: Taria!

Taria: *Ignores Kira* How fucking petty can you get?! That bitch is mad just because Nami refused to work for her! And now, just to get even, she's forcing her to enter some tournament?!

[Neither of her older sisters could dispute what their younger sister had just said. Because as much as they didn't want to, they agreed with everything she had just said.]

Taria: And what's more, it's not like they really want her to join! The bitch even wrote in her letter that if Nami went to Chuohku, they'd take her name off the list! She's just throwing a hissy fit cause she's not used to anyone saying 'no' to her!

Kira: *Sighs* So, what are you gonna do, Chinami?

Chinami: ...That's actually why I asked you both here tonight. *Looks at them both* What should I do?

Kira: *Confused* What do you mean?

Chinami: *Sighs* I mean, should I accept the Prime Minister's offer? To become her personal seer?

Taria: Of course not! Are you dense or something?

Kira: Taria!

Taria: *Ignores Kira again* Working for Chuohku is like selling your life away! And you'll be working for the Prime Bitch, herself, which is 10 times worse!

Kira: *Sighs at her younger sister* As much as I dislike her way of framing it... *Looks at Chinami*...I agree with Taria. You shouldn't have to do something you don't want to. It's sad that the Prime Minister is doing this. But trust me, if you join Chuohku, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. I've had friends who left to join Chuohku. And once they did, trust me, they were never the same again.

[Though Kira was saying all this, she knew deep in her heart the real reason why she didn't want Chinami to join Chuohku.]

Kira: Only one Chinen should have to bear the brunt of working for the government. It shouldn't be either of them.

Chinami: *Sighs* Okay, so we're all in agreement. I won't go to Chuohku.

Kira: *Nods, smiling* Right.

Taria: Well, obviously.

Chinami: But... *Places her hands in front of her* ...if I refuse to join, then my only other option is to join the D.R.B., which means... entering the world of rap once more.

[Both younger sisters were silent as they realized what this meant: their oldest sibling would be going back to the one thing she despised. ...Well, not so much despised, but disliked. Why? Because it took away someone that was very important to Chinami: her husband, Haru.]

Taria: ...Well, do you even have to enter it?

Chinami: Yes, I do, Taria. If I refuse, I'll be arrested for disobeying an official order from the Prime Minister.

Taria: Well... what if we run away? Like, go to another city or something? There are plenty of towns to choo...

Chinami: *Interrupts* That is one thing we are not going to do. We don't have the money or funds to suddenly move to another place, Taria.

Kira: Even if we did, it wouldn't matter. Chuohku would find us no matter where we go. Their reach extends all over Japan.

Chinami: *Nods at Kira* Exactly. And besides that, why should we be forced to leave our home? We've lived in this city for years. We can't leave now.

Taria: *Puts her hands up* Okay, okay. Sorry I suggested it.

Kira: *Looks back at Chinami* So, you're really doing this then?

Chinami: *Sighs* I'm afraid I have no choice.

Kira: *Places her hand over Chinami's* Come on, don't fret. It's not your fault.

Taria: *Sighs, putting her hands behind her head* Yeah, Kira's right. It's not your fault that Prime Bitch has a stick up her ass.

Chinami: *Softly chuckles* Thank you. *Looks at both her sisters* Both of you.

Taria: So, if you're actually entering this tournament, I guess that means you're gonna get your old crew back together.

Chinami: *Sadly shakes her head 'no'* As much as I'd like to, I'm afraid I can't ask any of them.

Taria: *Frowns* Why not?

Chinami: *Sighs* The last I spoke to them, Aimi was too busy working on their music album. And Nori is helping them. And I haven't kept in contact with Reiko. She seems to have gone back to acting, for good.

Taria: Well, what about what's his name? The tall, scary guy?

Chinami: *Shakes her head 'no'* I don't know what happened to Oki. He disappeared after C H A R O N broke up. And even if I knew where he was, I couldn't ask him. *Looks down* He and I... we didn't exactly part under the best of circumstances.

Taria: So, you've no idea who you're going to choose as your partners? Smart move.

Chinami: *Frowns* I didn't exactly have a lot of time to think or prepare, Taria.

Kira: *Interrupts them both* Wait, you said that you need two teammates to register?

Chinami: *Nods, confused* Yes...?

Kira: Then... *Points to herself and Taria* ...what about us?

Chinami: ...What?

Taria: *Is shocked* What?!

Kira: You need two people to enter, and there are two of us. Plus you, that makes three. That's an entire team right there.

Chinami: *Worried* Kira, I don't...

Taria: *Interrupts* No fucking way! I'm not joining some rap tournament to appease some governmental pricks!

Chinami: *Frowns at Taria, before looking back at Kira* Sorry Kira, but I have to agree with Taria on this. This is my problem. I don't want to get you two involved.

Kira: *Scowls at Taria* Sorry Taria, but you have no say-so in the matter. I'll explain to you why in private once we're done here.

Taria: *Shocked* What?!

Chinami: *Is confused* Wha...

Kira: *Looks back at Chinami* And Chinami, I appreciate you wanting to try to keep us out of danger, but you have no choice. You only have a week to register your team. And I doubt you'd find two more people in time who are going to want to join you. In case you forget, Chouhku isn't exactly well-liked around here.

Kira: *Continues her argument* It takes time to get to know and trust your teammates. And that's time you could easily spend getting yourself and your teammates prepared. Out of everyone in this city, you know us the best, and we know you the best.

Chinami: Yes, but...

Kira: *Interrupts* But nothing. Be honest Chinami, would you rather be fighting alongside a couple of strangers you know nothing about? *Points to herself and Taria* ...Or would you rather be fighting alongside your own sisters, whom you know you can trust to watch your back?

[Before the eldest sibling could answer, Kira stood up from the table, signaling Taria to do the same.]

Kira: Just think about it for a bit, okay? Taria and I have something to discuss. *Looks at Taria, scowling* Come with me, please.

Taria: Wha...?

Kira: Now, Taria.

Taria: Okay, okay.

[Following Kira, the two younger sisters left their eldest in the kitchen with only her thoughts and the Hypnosis Microphones still in the large, steel suitcase, as her company. She could vaguely hear the two talking, and Chinami sighed as she puts her hands over her face. She felt something land on her left shoulder and knew by the weight and smell that it was her pet raven, Karasu, who chose now to reveal himself. Smiling sadly at the bird, she gently pet it on the head, as she continued to wonder just how and why this was all happening...]

To be continued...

Nishikawa Sanjiro - The current mayor of Ōta City. He sees himself as a revolutionary, and claims that he has big plans for his city. He has so far claimed all but a few areas of the city as his own, with the police station being his last major opposition. He is universally disliked not only by most of the police force, but also by some of the residents of Ōta for his seemingly greedy and self-centered behavior.

Iseri Akemi - Ōta City's most well-known and most infamous reporter. She is always on the lookout for the latest scoop for her paper, "The Ōta City's Early Bird". And if push comes to shove, she has no problem stretching or overexaggerating the truth in order for her papers to sell. This has often put her in the crosshairs of many people in the city, who either dislike her for what she writes, or for where she gets her sources from. She and Kira were previously an item, but their relationship ended badly after Akemi misinterpreted and miswrote something that Kira had said in an interview, which got her in serious heat with the mayor. Despite their breakup, Akemi still has a bad habit of making more work for Kira because of her articles.

#hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypnosis microphone #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #ota division #birds of prey #chinami chinen #kira chinen #taria chinen #drama track

9 notes · View notes

edendaphne · 3 years

Text

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 21

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

–––––

CHAPTER 21: IMPROVVISANDO

Music glossary: Improvvisando: with improvisation

Glossary: Wǎnshàng hǎo : Good evening Shīfù : Teacher/Master

(Mood music: Night of Beijing - Jia Peng Fang)

That evening

Marinette fidgeted with her napkin, occasionally sipping her now-lukewarm tea while sitting at the kitchen bar counter. Chat Noir sat on the stool beside her in silence, also nursing a half-emptied cup. She checked the clock for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last few minutes.

“It’s about that time. I’ll head up to my room to let Ladybug inside. Will you get the door if your visitor arrives before she does?”

“Sure,” he replied, uneasy but compliant, doing his best to avoid staring at the black eye she’d received earlier that day.

Marinette set her cup in the sink and headed upstairs, leaving Chat alone with his thoughts.

He tried to keep his fast-beating heart in check, subconsciously clenching his jaw. It was finally happening. He was going to meet “him”: The Guardian of the Miraculous.

Following the events at school earlier that day, Adrien had walked Marinette to her house, where her family invited him to stay for a cup of tea until his “ride” arrived to pick him up. Of course, he’d eagerly accepted. It was nice to interact with the family as Adrien instead of just as Chat Noir.

After leaving, he hid away and transformed so he could sneak in through Marinette’s balcony as he usually did.

Upon transforming, however, he found a series of voice mails from Ladybug that she’d left during Adrien’s attempted abduction. Her voice was frantic. He could hear the urgency and distress in her tone, and a heavy blanket of guilt settled onto his shoulders as he listened.

The first message asked him to come to their school, that it was an emergency, to please call her back as soon as possible. He chewed on his lip, wanting nothing more than to hide away in a cave in shame.

The second one must have been left right after she’d rescued Adrien and left him at the school nurse; she’d called to let Chat know the incident had passed. Then she asked if he was okay, since she hadn’t heard back from him. He sighed. Typical Ladybug, always worrying and thinking about others first, even when she was having a rough time.

The last voicemail caused a trail of ice to trickle down his spine as he listened. Ladybug informed him that she had scheduled an impromptu meeting with the Guardian at the Dupain-Cheng’s house that evening, with Marinette’s permission, and that it was of utmost importance that he attend.

He shivered as goosebumps appeared on his arms and he swallowed hard. What was the purpose of this meeting? Was he in trouble for not showing up today during ‘Adrien’s’ kidnapping? And why meet here, at the Dupain home, instead of somewhere more private and away from civilians? What was the Guardian like? Would Chat get reprimanded and treated with disdain for having been their enemy for all these years, or would he be understanding and forgiving?

More importantly, would he have to disclose his identity to him, or to both him and Ladybug, to prove his loyalty? He winced at the mere thought of it. The last thing he wanted was for Ladybug to think less of him, or to pity him. Especially after the kidnapping attempt.

Additionally, if they were to learn that Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste, would they want to confront him head-on? Adrien didn’t feel ready for that, for several reasons.

First of all, would he be able to protect Ladybug, as he’d promised her? Hawkmoth had shown that he’d developed some sort of new power. Either that, or an entirely different person had become involved and was helping him. In any case, he didn’t know what exactly they were dealing with anymore.

Secondly, if the time came and he had to hurt or even kill his father, he didn’t know if he’d be able to do it. Yes, Gabriel was a monster and Adrien despised what he had become. But what if the damage was reversible and there was still a way to bring him back to normal? He just had to know, before doing something he might permanently regret.

The sudden ringing of the doorbell startled Chat out of his thoughts and he practically fell off his seat.

He ran to answer the front door, looking to make sure no one else was around. At the last second, he remembered to detransform and slip on the hood of his zip-up sweater (the one Marinette had gifted him), pulling a scarf over his nose and mouth so he wouldn’t be recognized if anyone outside were to catch a glimpse of him.

He looked out through the peephole, only to see the very top of someone’s head, balding with grey hair, and a little bit of their eyebrows.

Huh. Somehow Adrien thought the Guardian would be a bit… taller?

He turned the knob and the door opened, its squeaking hinges somehow louder than usual. Peeking out from the side like a scared tortoise, he checked to make sure the individual matched the description he was given, then stepped back to allow the door to swing open all the way. The older man stepped inside, closing it behind him.

“Hello,” Adrien said meekly, bowing his head slightly. “You must be…”

“Yes. I am Wang Fu,” he replied, bowing politely in greeting. “It is very good to see you again, Adrien Agreste.”

While Adrien’s face scarf efficiently concealed the way his jaw dropped when the elder man called him by name, there was no hiding the way his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

“W- what?!” he sputtered. “How did you—”

The man called Fu chuckled, stroking his beard. “It was a long time ago, but we’ve met before.”

Adrien lowered his scarf and frowned in concentration, falling silent for a few seconds. Then it dawned on him.

“YOU!!” he gaped. “I do remember you! It was my first day of lycée! You fell down in front of our school and I helped you up. It was you who put the cat miraculous in my bag that day, wasn’t it?”

“That is correct,” Fu confirmed.

“But why me? You could’ve picked anyone, so why did you choose someone like me?”

Fu’s smile faltered when he said this. Adrien had said “anyone”, but he could see that Fu knew what he’d actually meant. Why did you choose someone as broken as me?

The man folded his arms behind him, considering his answer. “Guardians are bestowed with several powers and abilities. One of them is to locate and select good candidates for the miraculous jewels. And so I was led to you.”

Chat grimaced in confusion. “So if you already knew it was me, why bother to ‘test’ me?”

“My powers as a guardian may lead me to a potential candidate, but ultimately the choice is still mine to make. It was a simple test, but it showed me what your first instinct would be if you saw someone in need. The answer I received was satisfactory. You were meant to be Ladybug’s Chat Noir.”

Adrien sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Honestly, a couple of months ago I wouldn’t have known whether to hug you because I got to become Chat Noir, or whether to punch you because I had to become Chat Noir. But it’s because of you that I got to meet Ladybug, so I am grateful to you for that. It’s good to finally meet you. Officially.”

He extended his hand and Fu took it with a smile, giving it a firm shake.

Afterwards, Adrien’s gaze fell, brows scrunching together. “I can’t believe it. All this time, you knew. You could’ve told Ladybug who I was years ago. She could have figured out a way to take away my miraculous while I wasn’t transformed, like at school, and she would’ve had one less enemy to deal with. It would’ve––” he pursed his lips, expression full of shame, and he lifted his eyes to meet Fu’s once again, “–it would’ve made it easier for her. She would’ve suffered less if I’d been out of the picture. So why didn’t you?”

Fu’s countenance became somber, his eyes carrying years of pain and regret. He took a few moments to consider his words. “When I was a boy, barely a teenager, something terrible happened. Hundreds of innocent people died, and it was all because of me.”

Chat almost reeled back as if he’d been smacked across the face, puzzled about the sudden switch in topic. He remembered Ladybug briefly mentioning this a few months ago, on the night they danced together. He waited for Fu to elaborate.

“I was only trying to protect them,” the older man explained. “After I was orphaned as a child, the monks of the Guardian Temple took me in. They became my family. They were stern, but fair and kind. It was a tough childhood, but I was happy.” He sighed. “However, there were those who would try to steal the miraculous and use their power selfishly. It was an endless struggle. Many were lost over the years. I longed for peace. I wanted my family to be safe, I wanted us to be left alone. So I did what I thought would be a better route, an easier one; one with less hardship and bloodshed. You see, one day while I was supposed to be on guard duty, I sneaked away to where the miraculous box was kept. I put on both the ladybug and cat miraculouses and used them to make a wish: I wished that our enemies would disappear.”

The older man exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut, the memories of what came next clearly still haunting him. Adrien couldn’t help but hold his breath while he listened.

“It worked,” Fu resumed, voice quiet and slightly shaky. “But as you might have suspected, there is always a price to pay; a balance that must be maintained. Therefore, because of my wish, all the monks in our Guardian temple and the innocent people of the surrounding village were ripped away from me, along with our enemies. The wish was technically fulfilled, but I never suspected that the cost would be that high. I have had to live with that in my conscience for over a hundred years.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, appearing more vulnerable than Adrien would have ever expected. He continued, “Since that time, I have both seen and caused much death in my lifetime, protecting the miraculous box alone as the last Guardian. So, you see, if there was even one person I could save, I had to try. I wanted to trust in the miraculouses, like I should have decades ago, during my misguided attempt to control the outcome of a complicated situation.”

Adrien absently rubbed his arm, pondering Fu’s words. “Looking back,” he began, “I can see the reasoning behind a lot of Ladybug’s decisions and principles, now that I know your story.”

“Indeed. Ladybug is a remarkable young lady; I knew that even back then. When I would ask her if she was willing to risk her life for the sake of a stranger, she would say yes, every single time. If anyone can persevere for the greater good, it was her. Was it unfair of me? Probably. Have I asked too much from her? Absolutely. Have I made mistakes while trying to guide her? Yes. Many of them.” He put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “I wanted to save you that day by giving you the cat miraculous. But I never would have guessed that it would also doom you and force you into a role of servitude. I hope that you will forgive me for this.”

Adrien’s heart pained for Fu as he admitted his guilt. “You couldn’t have known it would’ve turned out that way. It wasn’t your fault,” he insisted.

Fu shrugged. “I try to tell myself that, but I can’t quite convince myself. The situation made sense once Ladybug told me about Hawkmoth.”

“You mean, when she told you that Hawkmoth was my father?” Adrien asked.

“Yes,” Fu replied. “I had my suspicions, because it would explain your motivations, but I had no proof, no way of finding out for sure. It made sense that Hawkmoth would be Gabriel Agreste. The butterfly miraculous requires its wielder to be creative and inventive, since it relies on their ability to convert the subject’s emotions into a source of power. And he had the motivation.”

Adrien hummed in agreement.

“Additionally, such a clever and talented individual getting ahold of the cat miraculous would be incredibly dangerous. I’d be lying if I said I had never considered taking your miraculous away. But even still, it was safer to let it all play out. I didn’t want to repeat past mistakes. And if Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste, your fate if you were to lose the cat miraculous would have been disastrous. Maybe it would have even alerted him about the presence of a Guardian in Paris. But now that we know the truth, we can plan accordingly.”

Adrien gulped. So Fu had considered taking his miraculous away before. “A-are you going to tell Ladybug who I am?”

Fu shook his head. “It is not up to me to decide when it will be right for there to be no more secrets between you two. I only know that it is not yet time.”

Adrien curiously tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion. “How do you know that?”

As Fu started to answer, Adrien heard a doorknob twist open behind him and he quickly pulled his scarf back over his features.

The door opened and Ladybug’s voice exclaimed, “There you are! What are you two doing out here in the entryway?”

Adrien cleared his throat, then stammered, “R-right, pardon my manners. Please, come in.”

Fu walked past him, entering the living area. He took Ladybug’s hands between his, shaking them briefly, and said, “Wǎnshàng hǎo, Ladybug.”

With a small bow, Ladybug replied, “Wǎnshàng hǎo, shīfù. Thank you for coming at such short notice. Please, have a seat.”

Chat entered the room, having transformed now, and stepped forward to greet her.

He stopped short, realizing that he wasn’t quite sure how to greet her since last night’s development in their relationship, not to mention being very conscious of the Guardian watching them. He settled for a hug, which she returned, squeezing him tightly, and added a quick, discreet peck on his cheek. He smiled, feeling his face heat up.

Pleasantries aside and everyone seated, it was Ladybug who spoke first.

“Thank you both for being here. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

----------

A transformed Wang Fu stood at the bedroom window, curtains drawn, chanting in a language that neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir understood, holding the last of several metallic talismans he’d blessed and scattered around the room. The pair kept their eyes on him, marveling at the efficiency and care that he put into each incantation. There was something sacred, even holy about this ritual. They could feel powerful magic emanating from his form, invisible bursts of energy swirling about the room, dancing all around them in a silent symphony.

Ladybug cast a furtive glance at her partner. He’d been quiet for a little while, after learning about his attempted akumatization the night before. Ladybug had told him that it was Marinette who let her know, and that Plagg was the one who had informed her.

She’d called Master Fu before going to school to let him know what happened last night, and he promised he would figure out a solution. He’d spent all day preparing these special talismans, which would ward off akumas and keep them from entering this room. But only this room. He wasn’t strong enough to cast such a potent, long-term spell over a larger area; especially not at his age.

Fu, or rather, Jade Turtle, was silent for a few moments after placing the last charm, a silver one with indecipherable symbols carved into it, then turned around to face the couple.

“The talismans are almost done being enchanted,” he said, pretty out of breath, beads of sweat present on his brow. “There is one more thing that needs to be done. But I think I’ll need your help for this, Ladybug.”

Ladybug stepped forward in response. “Sure, Master. What is it?”

“I would do it myself, but, well… let’s just say I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Of course Master, anything you need. Just tell me what to do.”

Fu removed his bracelet, the turtle miraculous, and turned back to his civilian self, then handed the jewelry to her. His kwami, Wayzz, floated next to them awaiting instruction.

“If you could transform with my miraculous to finish the protection spell, I’d very much appreciate it. I’ll show you what to do when you’re ready.”

The young woman gaped at him, having never transformed into any hero other than Ladybug before.

“Oh! R-really?? S-sure! No problem...” She took the bracelet hesitantly, studying it like she’d never seen it before, then excused herself to the ensuite for privacy.

In the bathroom, Ladybug detransformed and removed her earrings, handing them to Tikki for safekeeping. She put on the emerald stone bracelet, staring at it as if it might try to crawl away from her if she wasn’t careful enough.

She squeezed her eyes shut in preparation. “Wayzz, shell on.”

Jade green light shone around the bathroom, and Marinette felt the magic of the turtle miraculous engulf her form. When it passed, she gulped and opened her eyes, lifting them to the mirror to catch a glimpse of her newly transformed self.

“Whoa.”

The heroine stared at her reflection across the way. She ran her fingers over the various bits of fabric and armor, taking the time to appreciate the feel and texture. Somehow, she felt quite powerful. Tough. Solid. Almost like a sentient brick wall.

“Wow, Marinette! You look incredible!” Tikki whispered to her.

“Aww, thank you Tikki,” she replied. “It feels so different, but it’s also really cool.”

Sparing one last glance into the mirror, she finally emerged from the bathroom. Fu was seated at the desk chair across the room, taking a short breather. Chat was speaking to him in hushed tones, but turned around when he heard her re-enter the bedroom.

His jaw dropped and he gasped.

“Oh my God, you’re adorable!” Chat blurted out. He caught himself and turned tomato red, then stuttered, “Umm! S-sorry, I––”

Ladybug (Lady...turtle??) giggled, stepping forward to stand beside him once again. “Thanks,” she replied shyly, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear as she usually did when she was nervous, but her hand bumped into her suit’s hood instead. Not quite sure what to do with her hands, she folded them in front of her as she awaited further instruction.

Tikki flew in front of Master Fu, bowing her head in greeting. “It’s good to see you again, Master!”

“Likewise. I hope you are doing well,” he greeted back.

Tikki flew over to Chat Noir, to say hello to him as well. “Hello, Chat Noir! It’s nice to formally meet you,” she chirped happily.

Chat beamed and answered, “Tikki, right? It’s great to finally meet you too! I must admit, you look a little different than I thought you would.”

Tikki giggled. “Did you think I’d be more insect-like? Maybe with six legs and an exoskeleton?”

Chat shrugged timidly. “Well, I mean… Maybe…?” ‘Ladybug’ and Tikki looked at each other and snickered at his reply.

Fu smiled at their interactions fondly, recalling times spent with loved ones, allies no longer here. With a small grunt, he stood up to continue the protection ritual.

“This way, Ladybug. Chat Noir and Tikki, please stand over there; we’ll need a bit of space for this. You might feel a bit tired once this is finished, so be sure to get plenty of rest tonight,” he instructed.

Tikki perched on Chat’s shoulder as he moved towards the edge of the room. They spoke in hushed voices as Fu instructed Ladybug and had her repeat phrases from his notes.

While they waited, Chat turned to Tikki and whispered, “By the way, I wanted to thank you... for helping Ladybug and keeping safe all these years. She means a lot to me.”

If kwamis could blush, Chat was sure that’s what Tikki’s face showed at the moment. “It’s been a pleasure to be her kwami. She’s the best! I’m glad you’ve gotten to know her and see what a sweet person she is.”

Chat smiled, cheeks dusted pink. “I am too.”

------

Many minutes passed, and Ladybug and Fu finished casting the protection ward. Chat helped Fu gather his things as Ladybug excused herself to transform back to her regular hero self.

As she re-emerged from the bathroom, Chat handed her a glass of water and invited her to sit on the bed so she could catch her breath and gather back some of her energy. “Welcome back, Lily-bug,” he greeted her with a wink. Ladybug beamed at him, accepting the water and taking a seat next to him.

Fu stood beside them, having finished gathering his belongings in a satchel. As he gave Ladybug time to rest, he asked, “Do either of you have any questions about the protection ritual, or about anything else?”

Ladybug replied, “I actually do have some questions, sir.”

Fu nodded.

“Master... why did Hawkmoth attempt to akumatize Chat Noir last night? If he’s tried it before, why did he not succeed during other nights?” Ladybug’s questions came faster once she got started. “Since he tried to akumatized Chat, does that mean he knows where he lives now? Is Chat even safe here anymore? What about the Dupains? Are they gonna be okay? How much does Hawkmoth know?”

Chat looked at Fu expectantly, realizing that he, too, had those same questions.

Fu replied, “The owner of the butterfly miraculous sends out his butterflies in search of a specific strong emotion, but is not aware of their location until after the host accepts it. He is able to learn some vague details about why they are feeling that certain emotion. My guess is that he was able to locate him while he was having a nightmare. So, no. He does not know that Chat Noir lives here. His powers have limitations, just like you do with yours. He is more powerful since he is older and more experienced, but even he can’t overextend the capabilities of his miraculous.”

He paused, stroking his beard, and contemplated. Then he asked, “Did something happen last night to make your emotions different from what they normally are?”

Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other, blushing furiously, stammering as they attempted to answer without divulging too much unnecessary information.

Fu raised an eyebrow, then chuckled knowingly, raising his hands to stop them. “It’s okay, I don’t need to know the details.”

“Umm! I-it’s not what you think!”

“M-master, don’t misunderstand–”

“Y-you see–”

“What happened was…”

“My guess is–” Fu interrupted, “–That Hawkmoth sensed your great joy last night, and became enraged. He couldn’t stand the thought of you being happy because it would mean that he is in the wrong, and his pride won’t allow him to accept that.”

Chat and Ladybug fell silent, looking downcast, as the explanation both made sense yet was immensely disheartening.

“There’s something else, Master,” Ladybug spoke again. “Something happened at school today. Akumas, but they vanished without a trace. I mentioned it to you earlier today over the phone. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

“Ah, yes. And all that remained was two white feathers?” Fu asked.

“That’s right. Could the akumas still be out there because they haven’t been purified?”

Fu shook his head. “Allow me to explain. Firstly, as Ladybug already knows, two of the miraculouses in my box went missing when the temple of the guardians was destroyed: the butterfly and the peacock. One of them fell into Hawkmoth’s hands sometime within the last few years. But after hearing about what happened at the school today, we can now confirm that Hawkmoth is currently in possession of not just one, but of both of them. Either that, or he has someone else working under him.”

“The Peacock… of course!” Ladybug gasped, voice filled with dread.

Chat looked at her, then back at Fu, waiting for him to elaborate.

“The Guardian’s Grimoire calls them ‘sentimonsters’, mystical beings created out of thin air using the peacock miraculous, which harnesses the power of emotions. They can be created and destroyed whenever the wielder desires. Usually they are simple creatures, designed to be helpers or perform smaller tasks. However, they can also be more sophisticated, even indistinguishable from other humans, although an enormous amount of energy is required to create these complex sentimonsters. One can even ‘borrow’ the appearance of an already existing person. In this case, Hawkmoth chose not to give the sentimonsters the ability to speak, so they couldn’t divulge their secrets, in the event that they were caught.”

Ladybug shuddered. “What the hell?! That is so creepy.”

“Indeed.” Fu looked over at Chat, who had remained pensive throughout this exchange. “Any thoughts, Chat Noir?”

Chat looked up at him, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I… I think I remember seeing the peacock miraculous in my father’s safe once. I only caught a glimpse of it; I just thought it was some of my mom’s jewelry he kept as a memento. I had no idea it was a miraculous. Otherwise, I would’ve had Plagg help me break into the safe and taken it with me when I ran away from home. There are so many things my father never told me… I’m sorry I don’t know more.”

Ladybug reached out to hold his hand, giving it a small squeeze, which he returned.

“You’ve done more than you know, believe me,” Fu replied as he unconsciously squeezed his satchel, which contained the electronic tablet where his copy of the Grimoire was stored.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and stepped forward, handing Chat Noir a card with his cell phone number.

“Call me if you have any questions, either of you. Even if it’s the middle of the night. Wayzz will make sure I hear my phone if it rings; he’s a much lighter sleeper than I am.”

“Thank you, Master Fu,” replied Chat, smiling. “And thank you too, Wayzz.”

“Thanks, Wayzz. Thank you, Master.” said Ladybug.

“Also, I must remind you once again that your identities must remain a secret until things settle down. There are negative effects that could happen if you are revealed too soon, and I’m not sure what they could be; but it’s best not to find out.”

Ladybug frowned. “But when will that be, Master? It would be so much easier to be able to communicate without having to transform.”

Fu shrugged helplessly. “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that. We must allow things to continue to develop on their own. I'm sure we’ll know when the time is right.”

Ladybug let out a displeased sigh. Chat nodded, glancing away with a worried look in his eyes. Despite Ladybug’s eagerness (and despite his own curiosity), waiting suited him just fine for now.

After saying their goodbyes, Fu left the pair behind and let himself out with a final wave. The two heroes remained in the bedroom, contemplating what had been discussed.

After sitting in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say next, a lightbulb seemed to light up inside Ladybug’s brain, and she began typing away into her yo-yo communicator. Chat watched curiously, wondering what she was up to.

Moments later, she hopped out of the bed to jot something down onto a sticky note from Chat’s desk, then walked back.

“Just because we can’t tell each other who we are doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be able to contact each other when we’re not transformed. Kwamis aren’t pagers, after all.”

“Pagers? What decade is this, anyway?” Chat razzed.

“Hush, you,” she mock scolded him, suppressing a smile. “ Anyway! Here’s my brand new, Chat Noir-exclusive email address,” she said, handing him the note with a wink.

Chat’s eyes lit up. “Wait, really??” He unfolded the paper as if it was a Christmas present, excited to read the contents. His eyes widened and he burst out laughing.

“ ‘[email protected]’ ?!”

“What, you don't think I’m great?” she teased, striking an exaggerated, Chat Noir-style pose.

Chat’s snickering only intensified and he nodded. “Oh, for sure! The greatest!” he agreed.

Ladybug smirked. “I made it just now,” she explained. “So you’re the only one who knows about it. We may not be able to hang out in person yet, but I’d still like to talk to you during the day. Plus, it’ll come in handy for emergencies.”

“Buginette you’re a genius!”

Ladybug giggled, feeling her face warm up despite herself. “M-maybe we can message each other when you have some free time? I mean… now that you don’t have to worry about getting akumatized in your own room anymore. Your bedroom’s pretty much the safest place in Paris now, thanks to Master Fu.”

“And thanks to you, as well, my dear ‘Lily-bug’,” Chat reached up to take her hand, gently pulling her down to sit next to him. “I feel much better already. And knowing I can talk to you anytime makes me feel even safer.”

She scooted closer, setting her head down on his shoulder. “Y-you know… you make me feel safe too, Kitty.”

Chat’s insides twisted into pleasant little knots, suddenly feeling rather warm. “Really?”

He felt her smile as her hand squeezed his arm, her other one sneaking across their laps to wrap her fingers around his own. “Yeah. I know we’ve only been allies for a short time, but I’ve already lost count of all the times you’ve saved me or sacrificed yourself to help others. Our partnership grows stronger every day, and I think Hawkmoth knows it. He knows we’re stronger together. And it’s only a matter of time until we can be together without these masks too, I just know it.”

He turned towards her, putting his fingers under her chin and lifting her head to have her look up at him. Their eyes met, her pupils dilating as they focused on his own, and he could see a bright blush blooming on her cheeks.

“Me too,” he whispered, as he brought their lips together.

She blissfully melted into him, letting out a small noise of contentment. She deepened the kiss, reaching behind his head to caress his hair with her slender fingers. Their kisses and breaths mingled together and they lost track of everything else around them.

A little while later, they faintly heard the grandfather clock striking the hour in the living room, then some noises as the Dupains shuffled upstairs from the bakery to get ready for bed.

Ladybug pulled back and they separated, his lips still tingling from her touch.

“I… I should probably get going soon,” she lamented with a small shrug. “It’s starting to get late.”

“Would you like me to walk you home? Or rather, to somewhere around your neighborhood?”

She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. Besides, I’m closer than you might think,” she added a bit cryptically.

“I wish you could stay,” he said softly, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. He gave her nose a tiny smooch. “Just a teeeeensy bit more?” he begged, giving her the best kitten eyes he could muster.

Ladybug giggled shyly, cheeks still dusted with pink. She gave his own nose a peck, her lips soft and inviting. “Well… I guess I could stay just a little bit longer,” she said with a smirk.

“Purr- fect,” he said, capturing her lips once again.

-------------

Note:

Many of the events in the “Volpina” and “Collector” episodes happened in this AU, albeit heavily modified to suit the story. Adrien found the grimoire in his father’s safe, took it out to study it, and Lila stole it. Since Adrien didn’t act impressed about Lila knowing Ladybug, she didn’t magnify the lie and claim to be Ladybug’s best friend; therefore, Ladybug never showed up to call her out on her lie, and Lila was never akumatized.

However, Tikki did see the book in the dumpster and retrieved it, and Marinette showed it to Master Fu. After Gabriel discovered the book was missing and pulled Adrien out of school, Fu made a copy so that Marinette could return it to Gabriel, and Adrien was allowed to attend school again. Currently, Adrien has no idea that this is how Fu acquired his grimoire; he merely assumes that Fu has always had his own copy.

Of course, Marinette began to suspect that Gabriel might be Hawkmoth because he owned the grimoire. Gabriel akumatized himself into the Collector in order to avoid suspicion, and with Chat’s help, almost succeeded in obtaining the ladybug miraculous. Ultimately, Ladybug outsmarted him, got him to accidentally “collect” Chat, and succeeded in purifying his akuma. But by then, Gabriel had “proven” he was an innocent civilian and Ladybug dismissed his potential involvement as Hawkmoth.

----

P.S. Another note: Certain things that are similar but not identical to canon have been in my outline since the beginning, so I apologize if they're a little confusing (such as the protection talismans being similar to Ladybug's akuma victims' lucky charms or the destruction/disappearance of the Guardian Temple)

#Miraculous Ladybug #Ladynoir #Enemies AU #enemies to lovers #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Ladybug #fanfiction #Discordant Sonata #ML AU #aged up #Eden writes

179 notes · View notes

ladydeznutz · 3 years

Text

When He Loved Me (Peter Parker x Reader)

A/N: My first fic and it's angst that came into my head around 3am. I've always wanted to write fics, but I didn't like how I wrote and I was embarrassed. First time writing for others so I tried to keep away from using just she/her pronouns, but if that's what you'd like just lemme know

I can write for other fandoms, and imma make a list of the fandoms I like bc I have so many I forget. I'll also add some other things if it interests me. Not comfortable with nsfw just yet so apologies. Anyways, enjoy the fic ig and please give me criticism if you see something wrong

idk how tumblr works with spacing and all that so hopefully this comes decent looking

Prompt: Please, don't leave me.

TW: S**cide mention

Every day had started to feel the same to you for a while now.

It started when he began missing date nights with you. He was always so excited about them, and then they were happening less and less often. You still saw him on occasion, but it felt more like "business" than anything else.

You didn't get the same giddy feeling you used to get when you'd see him; it felt like going out with him was more of a chore. You couldn't even complain to him about it even if you wanted to. Anytime you did see him long enough, he was always gone within a second, always in a rush. You never knew what he even did with himself or if he was thinking about you at all.

It definitely didn't help that you'd always catch him hanging out with his friends. You confronted Ned about it, but he was always so dismissive. Hell, you had even talked to Michelle about the whole thing. At first, she sympathized, but then it was as if a switch was flipped. You used to go to her to vent about Peter and the relationship. Now, she was practically telling you that you were overreacting.

----

You felt like you were going to have a mental breakdown.

Learning about a loved one's passing is always one of the hardest things for anyone to deal with, especially when it's someone you deeply care about.

You had just received the news that your best friend had killed himself a couple of hours ago.

You didn't know how to feel.

You couldn't wrap your head around it. There was no warning.

You and he had been friends since childhood, and you knew each other so well that neither one of you could even remember a time when the other wasn't around.

Your hands shook as you picked up the phone to call Peter. Your tears finally fell as you listened to the constant ringing of the phone, and you knew he wasn't going to answer. Rage grew within you as you heard his voicemail message causing you to throw your phone across the room. It crashed into the wall and broke, but you didn't pay any mind to it as you fell to the ground and let out a wailed sob.

Why did this have to happen?

You could barely catch your breath between sobs.

Your body shook.

You didn't care about anything anymore.

You didn't care about Peter anymore.

----

Weeks had passed, and Peter was exhausted.

Tracking down a gang, taking them down, and meeting another Spider-Man had just been a lot for him to take in. He was so tired, he didn't even want to think about it anymore. His back ached as he climbed through his window.

He was just so damned tired.

He stripped out of his suit, took off his web-shooters, and placed them back in his closet. Then, he took a quick shower.

His job was a bit easier to have Ned and MJ know he was Spider-Man. Now he just had to tell you.

Peter stood in the middle of the room and weighed out what would happen. He felt sorry for lying to you, and he knew that he was being distant. He just didn't have the courage to deal with any of it because he was worried about you. He couldn't lose you too.

As Peter lied down to finally get some rest, he wondered how you were doing. Karen had said you tried calling him, but he couldn't answer he had been in the middle of a stakeout.

He got up and rummaged through his book bag to get his phone, turning it on to scroll through his messages. He sat up as he realized how many he had gotten. Had something happened?

As he scrolled through, his heart broke. So many people had posted about the loss of Jay and were gossiping about why he did it. When he finally went through them all, he looked at your one missed call and gulped.

You had called him that day, and he didn't pick up.

He clicked the voice mail and listened to the message. All that he could hear were your pained sniffles, a shout, and then the line cut off.

He felt sick as he replayed the message.

Peter already felt awful about lying to you; he had to fix this. He quickly texted you, put his web-shooters back on, and was ut the window.

He knew the way to your house, so it took him no time to et there. As he was getting ready to knock on your window, he did a double-take and took a closer look.

Someone was sitting in your room; it looked like he had been waiting for you. Peter quirked an eyebrow as he looked at the guy. He was wearing a red and green jacket with shorts and sneakers. He also looked like he was wearing tights?

Suddenly, you walked into the room, so Peter backed away from the window to hide in the shadows. You seemed to be upset as you were wiping your eyes quite a bit.

"I'm sorry Miles. I didn't think I'd start crying like that," you said as you sat on your bed.

"Hey, it's okay," he replied as he stood up and moved closer to you. You sniffled as you tried to regain your composure. Peter didn't quite know how to react. Who was this? What was going on?

"I just...he..." you groan out in frustration as you grip your hair. Miles' eyes widen as he sees tears start flowing from your eyes again.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asks as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You shrug as you shake your head.

"It's complicated, and besides, that's what our therapy's for" you chuckle dryly. Miles' eyes wander the room as he tries to think of something to do to cheer you up. "How 'bout we go out tonight?" he suggests.

"I don't like the tone of that voice" you sass as you turn to give him a look. Peter watches Miles turn around, and his eyes widen. Miles was wearing a suit, a Spider-Man suit. The same Spider-Man he saw the other week.

"Any place you wanna go to, we'll go" he adds with a cheeky smile. "Really? You're not busy?" You cross your arms as you stare him down.

"Nah, night's been quiet. Besides, I might be busy tomorrow, then you'd miss your favorite person in the world" he winks as you begin to smile. Peter's heart sank as he realized what was happening. He thwipped a web to the building across from yours and sat down on the edge of the roof. Pulling out his phone, he sent you a text.

Can we talk tomorrow?

Giggling could be heard from across the street. Peter looked up and bit his lip as you glanced at your phone and threw it on your bed. You got onto Miles' back, and you both swung away.

----

After you tried calling Peter that day, you stopped reaching out to him altogether. You decided that you'd wait to talk to him until he finally realized you weren't there. It had been about five weeks, and in those five weeks, you had gone to therapy and counseling.

You met Miles in counseling. He was sweet but seemed to get off topic a lot. When you were getting ready to leave one session, he had come up to you, put his hand on your shoulder, and let out a simple "Hey." One thing led to another, and you had both bonded over your losses. You went to Miles' uncle's funeral, and he went to Jay's funeral with you.

You were currently sitting on a swing at the playground as you waited for Peter. It was taking him forever to show, and at this point, you wanted to get this whole conversation over with.

Frowning, you looked around, wondering why he was taking so long. He should've been here by now. Maybe he decided not to come after all.

When that thought crossed your mind, you scoffed and stood up. Before you could go anywhere, however, you felt someone gently grab your hand. Looking back, you saw Peter staring at you with a small smile on his face.

"You came."

"Of course I did"

Peter pulls you towards him and wraps his arms around you. You take a deep breath as you stare off towards the slide. He pulls away when he realizes you're not hugging him back. The both of you pull away awkwardly as you look at each other.

"Peter-" "(Y/N)-" both of you speak at the same time.

"I- I have o tell you something" he starts with a stutter. You wait patiently as you motion for him to continue. "I know th-that I've been....not here for you for a while-" he cuts himself off when he hears you scoff.

"I.....I had these things, and I should've told you as soon as we started dating, and I'm sorry. I know I've been an asshole, more than that actually" you roll your eyes and shake your head as he continues.

"I just.....I love you, and I want you to know that even though I don't show it a lot" he finishes as he rubs the back of his head nervously.

The good thing about coming to this park was that there was usually no one here, and you were glad no one was here right now because boy were you fuming. "Told me about what Parker?" Your hand goes to your hip as you glare at him.

"W-Well....uhm......that guy that you talk to.......I'm like him I guess. Spider-Man." Your eyes widen when you hear the first part. "How the hell do you know I've been talking to someone?"

Peter stumbles with his words as he realizes he's been caught red-handed, "Uh...I was gonna visit yesterday, and I kinda....saw you..talking to him....." You narrow your eyes as you pick up a stick and throw it at him. He ducked before he could get hit, but you were already in his face.

"You were spying on me?!"

"I-I wasn't trying to! I was just-"

"Christ Peter!" All this time of you not being here, and now all of a sudden you just wanna show up out of nowhere because of what?! Jay?! Is that why you're finally talking to me?!" Panic stirs in Peter's eyes as he tries to come up with an excuse.

"I tried so hard to get you to talk to me, and you only wanna talk now because of that shit?! Peter, I can't do this shit with you anymore. I don't care if you're Spider-Man; what was the point of not telling me in the first place?! We live in New York for God's sake!!"

Your face is red as you frustratingly wipe away your tears with your forearm. Peter stays silent as he watches you; he can't say anything right now because you've hit the nail on the head.

"Y-You know what, fuck this. I can't do this shit any-anymore, Peter. But please tel-tell me; w-what did I do wrong? I di-did my best to keep both of us h-h-happy. Please, just tell me what I did wr-wrong." Your words are barely recognizable as you hold yourself to keep you're shaking body still.

Peter steps forward, but instead of stopping him like he thought you would, he cups your face gently as he looks into your eyes.

"(Y/N).....I'm so sorry I made you think this was all your fault. You did make me happy; you still do. I just...I've been so busy being Spider-man that I've neglected you, and I'm sorry for that. But I do still love you, (Y/N). I swear I'll stop doing everything just for you. I-I'll give up being Spider-Man."

You watch him unravel as he keeps talking. You can't bring yourself to care, however, as he spills his heart out. Too much disappointment has built up over the months.

"Pete...."

"Please......(Y/N), just give me another chance. I'll do anything, just please, don't leave me." His voice is soft and insecure as he begs you, almost quivering as he says it. It doesn't invoke any sort of feeling in you though. His sad eyes watch as you pull away from him,

"I'm sorry Peter" you whisper softly as you turn around and walk away.

He doesn't run after you or even shout.

Peter simply watches you walk away until you're out of view. The only thing he can hear is your footsteps as they fade into the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Alright so...this whole thing was based on how I could see him being Spider-Man in the beginning ig? Imo I feel like between him and Miles, the latter would be the first to tell you he's Spider-Man

And I always felt like him being away like that with no real reason would make an s/o feel like it's their fault or sumn. Like, I've always seen fics where he and the reader always make up about it, but I wanted to try the bad ending where even though he had good intentions, he's just not ready to handle being a hero, student, and partner.

#peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #miles morales #miles morales x reader #marvel mcu #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #peter parker imagine

116 notes · View notes

bnhatrashcanons · 3 years

Text

they hurt your feelings

w/ bakugou and kirishima

genre: angst to fluff

a.n. i have seen so many people in different fandoms tackle this prompt and now its my turn so suffer along with me <3

bakugou

you knew going into this that katsuki was a little rough around the edges. this was more than fine for you

to make up for his prickly edges you decided to overwhelm him with love and affection, surprise hugs and face kisses all the while you scrounged for any affections you could get from him

he never told you it bothered him, though you should have guessed

you just loved him so much and you wanted to show it

clearly that desire for affection was going to come and bite you in the ass.

you sat with your arms wrapped around his waist, head nuzzled into his back. you peppered soft kisses to the clothed muscle every once in a while. he had been working at his homework which was fine with you. you didn’t mind the silence as long as you got to hold him. but he had been at it for an hour and a half. he deserved a break. you pressed a kiss onto his shoulder before speaking for the first time this evening.

“hey bubs?” you whispered and were just met with a soft grunt from your boyfriend, sounds of pencil scratching onto the paper louder after you spoke. “bubby?” you asked one more time after a few moments.

“jesus fucking christ, what, y/n?” he snapped, running his hands down his face with a groan of frustration. you jumped a little bit at the sudden harshness of his tone. you swallowed thickly, unsure if you wanted to answer him now. “you’ve already interrupted my train of thought you wanna fucking talk to me now?”

“i was just gonna suggest that you take a break,” you meekly whispered. “i just think you deserve one. you’ve been at this for so long and i just. i could rub the tension out of your shoulders.”

“no.” he snapped. wow. okay. shut down so quickly.

“okay baby, i just-”

“can you shut the fuck up for five minutes?” he pried your arms off him and scooted away. “you’re so fucking annoying jesus christ. i have never met anyone more clingy and annoying in my life. do me a favor and fucking leave i’m busy.” you blinked at him, tears pricking in your eyes. did he really just say that? were you that annoying. instead of putting up a fight and risking more of your feelings getting hurt you nodded and exited his dorm, heading back to yours to cry your eyes out. when you collapsed onto your bed, putting his notifications on mute so you didn’t have to talk to him. if you were clingy then keeping your distance was the best option in keeping your relationship alive.

on katsuki’s end, after an hour of cooling down he began to flood your phone with texts apologizing. nothing big or meaningful just a few ‘sorry. didn’t mean it’ type messages. not that you read them, which was confusing for him. you usually responded within 3 minutes. he set his phone down. you’d answer him in the morning. he tried falling asleep but dreams were replaced with the darkest of nightmares. he woke up feeling like he couldn’t breathe. like there was someone pressing onto his chest trying to get into his lungs and rip them out. he hated this feeling. he hated the memories masquerading as dreams. where were you? you always calmed him down. getting up he scrambled to grab his phone and call you. biting his knuckles he kept calling and calling but you didn’t pick up. 4 times. what the fuck? his heart continued to pound. he couldn’t do this. he wouldn’t be able to get back to bed. slipping on some form of shoe he walked down to your dorm and banged on the door. the nightmare kept replaying in his head and he felt like screaming. you still weren’t answering.

“y/n,” he spoke voice raspy. “i know you’re in there open the door please.” he knocked again. nothing. he knocked one last time. “y/n please i need you open the door i can’t.” after a few moments of you not opening the door, he was going to walk away. but then you opened the door. “y/n.”

“bakugou go to bed,” you demanded with your arms crossed.

“first its katsuki to you,” his voice was shaky. “and i can’t sleep.”

“not my problem,” you snorted ready to close the door on him but he held it open.

“please. just let me in,” he begged. you sighed and moved out of the way to let him in. he sat down on the bed and pulled his knees to his chest. he was terrible at asking for this, usually you just caved and gave him the hugs and cuddles he needed but instead you just stood there. he looked up at you. he looked so tired. you wanted to hug him but after that outburst you didn’t think you should. “y/n?” he asked after a moment.

“yeah?”

“i’m sorry. for what i said earlier. you aren’t clingy. i mean you are but it’s not a bad thing. you keep me sane. i’m sorry.”

“thanks for the apology but-”

“hold me please? i’m not good at this but i need it.”

you crossed your arms. “do you really think i’m that annoying? i’m sorry for it i just want to show you how much i love you but-”

“i don’t. i’m sorry. i’m sorry i’m making you question how you show me your love but please damn it. i know it’s gonna make you uncomfortable but i need a hug. please?” you nodded and sat next to him and held him tightly.

“we’ll get through this katsuki. tell me about your dream. talk it out.”

kirishima

you never in your wildest dreams believed that loving doting eijiro kirishima would make you feel insecure.

he loved you so much and not showing it wasn’t manly, according to him

but with the more dates he skipped out in favor of bakusquad hangouts

you weren’t so sure you were enough for him anymore

this was the third date this month kirishima missed. he stood you up and you were starting to think that the restaurant was going to stop letting you come back if you kept getting stood up. you texted him only for him to leave you on delivered. you texted sero asking about kirishima’s whereabouts for him to respond that they all went out to dinner. you were aghast. you really weren’t enough for him anymore, were you? the moment you got back to the dorm you got into bed, pulling the sheets close to your chest. he would rather be with anyone else but you, huh? you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. you were so wracked with sobs that they eventually rocked you to sleep.

you woke up the next morning to your alarm for class. groaning you picked up your phone to turn the alarm off. you looked idly at your notifications. 23 texts and 4 missed calls from eijiro. you didn’t listen to the voicemails and all his texts were empty apologies. you didn’t bother opening them. instead you got ready for class and to join the rest of your classmates downstairs for breakfast. he sat next to you at the table as you silently ate your rice. it was quiet between you before he smiled at you brightly.

“so i know i missed our date last night, but i was thinking you and i could check out that botanical garden tonight? to make up for it, you love flowers-” you felt bad cutting off kirishima’s happy, excited proposition but you got up in the middle of his sentence.

“no thanks. i’m busy tonight.” you commented shortly. he blinked, smile faltering a little bit before returning.

“no worries! what about tomorrow? we have the day off from school and maybe we-”

“no. busy tomorrow too.” you cut him off again, cleaning your bowl despite momo’s objections that she would do it herself.

“seriously?” his tone was filled with dejection, his tall frame faltering a bit at that. you just nodded.

“ask bakugou,” you snorted, gathering your materials for class.

“bakugou wouldn’t want to go. i asked you.”

“then ask kaminari,” you gave him a venom filled smile.

“hell yeah let’s go eijiro!” kaminari beamed. kirishima didn’t even fight to continue the plans. he just accepted that kaminari would be his new hangout buddy. fuming you left the dorm. kaminari winced. “what’s their problem?”

“they’re pissed because kirishima has been ditching them for us,” bakugou snapped, sipping his tea. kirishima’s brows furrowed.

“what? no they’d tell me.” kirishima wanted to shrug it off but something about bakugou’s accusation sat heavily on his chest.

“then why did they say no and tell you to go with kaminari? face it dumbass they think you don’t want them anymore.” that hit kiri like a bus. no. of course he wanted you! and only you! swallowing thickly he got up and ran to catch up to you. you couldn’t have gotten too far to campus. all he had to do was run. he caught up to you and called your name loudly. against your better judgement you sighed and stopped walking. he finally reached you and panted, wanting to speak but his windlessness prevented him from doing so.

“go-go out with me tonight please,” he begged through jagged breaths.

“i told you i’m busy. besides you have more fun with your friends anyway,” you rolled your eyes and he grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly.

“i don’t want them i want you! i’m sorry i’m sorry i made you think that i wanted to spend more time with them than you i’ll be on my best behavior from now on! just don’t leave me don’t i don’t know what i’ll do whatever you ask i-”

“shut up,” you smiled and hugged him.

#Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijiro #eijiro kirishima x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fic #angst #bnha angst

755 notes · View notes

nahoyaglock · 3 years

Text

WHEN I STOP BREATHING..

pairings! ushijima x reader

summary! sitting on the beach, so close to each other they can hear each other’s heartbeats. They both smile and they watch the world end right in front of them, reminiscing on all they’ve been through together. Why does the end of the world look so beautiful?

genre! angst

word count! didnt bother actually counting so ill estimate maybe 2000+

warnings! end of the world, death, murder mention, slight ooc ushijima idk its the end of the world so pff

a/n! uh idk i wanna hurt people, sorry if this is bad i havent written in a while :p i feel like the beginning was really good, the middle was ass and the end was okay but hoh im happy enough w this. I also cried writing this ngl lmaoo also did not fix any errors so my bad

You knew it was coming, you both did. New reports, articles, it was trending on all social media platforms. It was unavoidable, what could you do but waste away your last few days, watching old shows you watched as a kid, harsh knocks and cries from your doors from friends and family. You couldnt face them, you just wanted to drown out the thought of what was coming the next few hours of the day.

You had woken up and sluggishly dragged yourself from the comfort of your bed to your dirty kitchen, littered with dirty dishes and some uneaten food that youd try to make, but didn't have the stomach to eat. Your phone rang atleast every hour or two, many unanswered calls and long voicemails you couldnt bother to listen to.

There was a knock on your door, and you sighed, not wanting to bother with facing the person at the door. You turned on your heels, about to head to your room when you heard the voice call out to you.

"y/n."

Out of all the people why did it have to be him. You bit your lip and let out shaky breaths. You took another step, freezing at another set of knocks. The last persom you wanted to see was your boyfriend.

"y/n let me in or ill tear this door down." His voice was stern, laced with seriousness and slight concern. You wanted to open it, let him in and crumble into his arms, but it hurt so bad.

"Go away." You spoke, loud enough to be heard through the door, but not loud enough to be a yell.

"y/n."

You hesitantly walked to the door, unlocking the bottom lock, the top lock remaining unlocked, too bothersome for you to have delt with anyways. At the sound of the click of the locks he opened the door with quick motions, while also being careful not to knock you over.

At the sight of his big frame you felt like the world had just stabbed you through the chest 28 times. You backed up with quick steps are your boyfriend reached out to hug you, scared that his touch would break down your facade. You tripped over your own feet, landing hard on your butt.

"Ush.. Ushijima," you started, not knowing exactly what you were trying to say, "Please dont touch me."

His heart sank when he saw you, lifeless and so frail. He guessed you havent been getting much sleep- or maybe too much sleep, and not eating as he took a quick glance towards the food littered kitchen counter.

It wasnt any better for you, seeing your normally cold and calm boyfriend with a worried expression and eye bags that made it obvious he hasnt got much sleep either.

You pull yourself up, your eyes boring through your boyfriends abdomen as you bit your lip, trying to think of what to say, and to also keep yourself from falling apart. "What do you want?"

"y/n. Dont be cold to me." It wasnt a question, but it wasnt a demand. "Sorry," you mumbled, leaving you two in silence for a while.

"Ushi, you should go home," you said, feeling your heart race, every second you spent in his presence, under his gaze, killed you. "You should call Tendou or something."

"Toshi." He said, making your head shoot up, looking him in his eyes, seeing a tear roll down his cheek, his face remaining mostly emotionless, fear slightly present in his eyes. "Please keep calling me Toshi."

You felt a pang in your heart, suddenly the reality of things hitting you. You were the only one going through this, you knew this but never gave it more than a mere thought. He was scared, he didnt know what he was doing, he just knew to find comfort in you, like youve told him to for many years into your relationship.

"Toshi," you breathed, reaching up to wipe the tear from his cheek, "Toshi lets go somewhere."

You never felt the need to go outside, wanting to be isolated, but being here with your boyfriend, you felt like running away, wanting to escape from the dark pit of your home. "Lets go to the beach"

"y/n–"

"Lets go. Lets go, right.. right now Toshi," you felt as if though youve felt shoked by lightning, like you suddenly got hit with some sugar rush.

"We dont have time–"

"We do Toshi, we do, we do," you saw the corner of his lips raise up into a small smile. He hated seeing you like this but he was glad you were more alive than you were minutes before. You knew this, what he was thinking, and you knew his smile had so much sadness behind it, "we have time, lets go, lets go!"

You grabbed his hand and dragged him out of your apartment, not bothering to change from your days out clothing or close the door behind you. It wouldnt matter in another hour anyways.

The ride there was mostly silent, songs playing quietly on the radio. You watched as you passed through the town, the streets were slightly empty, stores looked run down, some stores even tore up and empty.

"Has it been like this since.. since the announcement?" You mumbled, earning a hum for Ushijima.

"Yeah, yeah it has." He knew that you didnt go out, and he was slightly grateful for it. The world went to shit after the announcement, many lootings, murders and other various crimes being commited.

"Im glad your safe Toshi," you spoke into your palm.

"Im glad your safe too."

The ride went on in silence until you got to the beach. You both climbed out of the car, the beautiful blue sea sparkling under the sunny sky. It was funny how such a depressing day could look so so beautiful.

"Hmm, this is the beach we went to with the team our senior year, remember?" He asked and turned to face you. The fear in his eyes was much more evident in the light, along with signs of personal neglict. He hasnt been taking good care of himself either.

You walk around the front of the car to grab his hand, your small hands tracing light circles on his rough palms before linking your hands together, giving him a comforting squeeze. "I remember."

He let out a shaky breath he didnt know he was holding in, and you two found a nice spot on the beach to sit and watch the sky. "Toshi, do you remember the time goshiki got gummy bears stuck in his nose?"

He looked at you, and his face softened, "yeah. Yeah i do." He let out a small chuckle at the thought of his old teammates. "Do you remember when Tendou took my water bottle and filled it with really sour lemonade?" He asked, you could hear his voice unravel into a more comfortable tone, instead of one holding in so much hurt and fear.

"Ha, i actually helped him with that you know?" You spoke up, a small grin on your lips as your boyfriend grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him. "We'll its okay, because it was 2 years ago."

It had been 2 years. 2 years since you had become shiratorizawas manager, 2 years since you made the number 1 ace fall head over heels for you, 2 years since you had went on your first date with him.

"2 years, its been so long." You laid your head on Ushijimas arm, feeling tired. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and placed a kiss atop your head.

"Thats when we first started dating," you spoke, shoulders shaking with a small laugh, "i would've never imagined to have the nations number 1 ace fall so madly in love with me." You laughed and turned to your boyfriend to continue your teasing, but stopped when you saw him looking back at you.

He couldn't respond with anything more than a mere chuckle, tears now streaming down his cheeks. You bit your lip, scooting closer to him so you were in his lap, wrapping your arms around his large stature.

"Toshi, I love you." It was no more than a whisper and he placed a warm, loving kiss to your temple, rubbing your back softly as he let out a shaky laugh.

"y/n god, you make it so hard not to cry." He whispered in an unstable tone, resting his head atop yours. "I love you too."

This was how it was, clinging to the other and sharing old tales of your days spent with Ushijima and the boys, tales of times tendou had snuck out of the dorms and got caught by washijou, or when goshiki cut his bangs too short, or how Ushijima brought your parents a half eaten watermelon as a gift.

Those last moments spent with laughs and tears, kisses and hugs, warmth and comfort, those were your best memories. Despite the fate to cross you, Ushijima and everyone else in the world, you felt like you could smile for the first time.

You would smile alot, but it felt different this time. You convinced yourself that it was just because you had been withering away for the past days, but you knew it was because you felt free.

You had no worries in the moment with your lover, you didnt need to think about getting up for work the next day, or how you would afford next months rent. You felt like the largest weight had been lifted off of you, and you could really smile for the first time.

There was a slightly rumble if the ground that had made you and Ushijima go silent. You pulled away from your spot in the crook of his neck to look at him, fear still in his eyes.

"I dont wanna die," he chuckled out, "but im not sad." He drew small shapes into your hips with his thumbs, looking onto your laps instead of your face, and you just stared at him.

His usually stoic face was calmed, relaxed, his jaw unclenched and his eyes soft. You hadnt seen so many emotions from your boyfriend so much, it was almost scary. But he looked so gorgeous, he was your world.

"Wakatoshi Ushijima, you know," your placed your hands on both sides of his face, "it doesnt matter what happens to this world, because," you placed a passionate kiss to his lips, the tears finally falling from your eyes, "you, you're my world Toshi."

He let out a noise that was similar to a choke, tears rolling down the apple of his cheeks as he placed his forehead to yours, letting his shoulders shake with hard sobs. Loud crashes, screams and car alarms had let you know it was coming, the end of the world.

The last thing you saw was Ushijima, smiling snd crying, mouthing out one last 'I love you'.

Why does the end of the world look so beautiful?

#writings 📃#ushijima.💭#ushijima x reader #ushijima x y/n #ushijima angst #ushijima imagine #ushijima fanfic #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi fanfic #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu imagine #hq x reader #hq x you #hq angst #hq fanfic #hq imagines

118 notes · View notes

amidstsaltandsmoke · 3 years

Note

Drabble challenge- 46 and maybe extra angsty please 🥲🥲🥲

Hiiiiiii! Ok, I don't think that I really pulled off the EXTRA angsty, but there IS angst involved!😆 Then I had to throw in the hurt/comfort/fluff. I also changed up the quote a little bit, I hope you don't mind! This is from an unnamed universe I'm currently working on 😌🥰 Hope you like!!!! Thanks for the ask! 🤗🤗🤗 ________________________________________________ 46.) “I thought you were dead!”

Jon was losing his damn mind.

Dany never went this long without responding to his texts and calls, especially when he was out of state for work and he only had technology to rely on to reach her. He wasn't possessive by nature, but ever since learning of her sometimes fragile condition - to which she insisted was not the case - he couldn't and wouldn't dare let his protectiveness be put by the wayside.

She was too important to him, and he really didn't know what he would do without her. Couldn't even begin to outline a picture of what his life would even look like without her right by his side in it.

He'd left the project early so he could return to the rental house and try her again. His boss had all but tossed him off the property by the hem of his pants because he'd been not only obsessively checking and rechecking his phone, but he was far too distracted and had already nearly drilled his thumb into a roof.

It was all in support, however - his boss knew Jon well, and understood the situation, and wouldn't sack him just because he loved his wife so hard it made him physically ill to think she might be in some form of danger. He didn't even care if she'd suffered a paper cut. He'd disinfect and bandage the shit out of that, too.

Gods, he was just as bad as her father had been, wasn't he? The very hovery, constantly-looking-over-shoulder person that Dany loathed and grew up with. He tried not to be, and most times he was successful. But he also wasn't typically eight hours away, halfway across the country, either.

He paced the living room, the other line just ringing and ringing with no answer. Her silky voice in the form of her voicemail passed through his ear again, and he sighed heavily. "Dany, I don't know what's goin' on, but you're really freaking me out. I'm sure you'll have my head when you see all the missed calls and messages...but please just let me know you're ok. You can send me the middle finger emoji for all I care. Love you more than anything. Bye."

Thumbing the red "END" button, he chewed on his lip and looked around the mostly-barren room, save for his suitcase which was still packed with his clothes. Tomorrow was the last day he needed to be here before flying back home...how crazy would it be to catch that night's red eye, anyway? And how livid would Dany be that he ditched this huge contract at the tail end?

His heart was made up before he could even try to rationalize it.

"Davos? I'm gonna take off...it's not like her to-," he chuckled nervously, while Davos commanded him to 'say no more and go get your girl'. "Thanks, mate. I'll keep you updated."

He wasn't sure Davos wanted to know any more than whether or not he found Dany safe and sound with all of the sulking he'd been doing the last several days.

Jon gathered up his toiletries from the bathroom in one hand, while his other was busy weaving around the airline website to book the soonest flight. To his relief, there was one in an hour and a half, which would give him just enough time to call for a rideshare and zoom his way over with thirty minutes to spare.

After the typical hell that was the airport and boarding process, plus the hole he burned through his credit card in just two hours alone (beyond worth it), he was in the air. Another torture was the distance; he managed to get himself a nonstop flight and shaved off two hours but still…

Naturally, he refused to sleep. His phone was clutched in his hand so the moment he landed, he could check it to see if he’d gotten any responses.

No luck.

He rushed through baggage and had already scheduled his next rideshare prior to his flight. Now that he was in his homeland and a mere twenty minutes from home, the anxiety and nausea were really setting in, the what-ifs and the endless possibilities; he wouldn’t know what he’d do if she wasn’t at the house…

When they pulled up, he was flooded with relief to see that her car was in the driveway, had he couldn’t have grabbed his luggage and get to the front door fast enough. He rifled for his keys and jammed it into the lock, Ghost’s howls instant and persistent until he got the door open and he whined upon seeing Jon walk through.

“Hey boy,” he greeted quietly, giving him a few good scruffs before haphazardly dumping his stuff on the floor and locking up behind him. He paused and strained his ears, exhaling when he heard the shower running upstairs.

Once he was in the conjoining bedroom, Ghost hot on his heels, he took his time shedding some layers and kicking off his shoes. On the nightstand sat a brown paper bag, folded shut, which was a little odd, but everything appeared to be in normal order. Their regular things skewed about as it was when they were there, Dany’s pajamas laid out on her side of the bed.

As he was going through his drawers to find some pajama pants, the bathroom door opened and he spun on his heel, just to confirm that she was there, safe and in the flesh.

A gust of air gasped into her mouth, her hand flying to her towel-clad chest as she jumped backward. “Seven hells! You scared the life out of me!” She breathed, her cheeks pink from the warm shower and damp hair tumbling about her shoulders. Even just the good-natured joke made him wince; it was the dormant worry that had been on his mind for hours now.

Then, a fond smile came over her face. “You’re home early.”

He was exhausted, and maybe that was why he couldn’t find it in him then to be playful, his brows twisting and her face falling a fraction. “You didn’t answer my texts or calls,” he said as gently as he could, but the fatigue was evident in his tone.

Dany blinked, then crossed her arms over herself, but she was still trying to keep it light. “Missi and I went on an impromptu girls’ vacation after my test and...,” she paused and stepped over to the mysterious paper bag, rustled her hand in it, then withdrew her phone and wiggled it, “dropped it into a pool.”

Jon took a moment to himself to shuck off his jeans and slip into his pajamas. He didn’t want to admit it...didn’t want to give her the ‘w’ word, but they were honest to the bone with one another. It was just how they programmed. He was still a little cowardly, avoiding her eyes when he said it. “I was worried sick about you.”

He heard her huff, and finally lifted his eyes to get a read on her. Clearly she was irritated, but not entirely furious. “There was nothing to worry about, Jon. I was stupid and dropped-”

“Not stupid,” he chided, cutting her a stern look. She was anything but.

Now she rolled her eyes. “It was only a little over a day; I didn’t think it was such a big deal if I just waited until I got home to try and fix it. All the stores were closed by the time I got in. And it was only a little over two days,” she defended.

Slowly, Jon frowned, and it grew deeper by the second. “A lot can happen in a little over two days, Dany,” he stated, tossing his jeans into the hamper in the closet.

“What did you expect had even happened?” She laughed humorlessly, getting more agitated by the second. Then she buried her phone back in the bag, which he now realized was full of rice, and disappeared into the bathroom, returning with her hair brush and began to detangle the damp knots.

He grit his teeth, fists clenching and loosening at his sides. “I don’t know, Dany, but I always get this terrible feeling in my gut after a period of time passes and I don’t hear from you,” his voice rose a hair. “I know you don’t want to hear it, and it’s bloody ridiculous on my end, but it kills me that I can’t turn it off. I worry when you’re at work, when you do a grocery run and I’m not there…,” he huffed and shook his head, running his hands down his face and briefly hiding behind them. He was overwrought with jet lag and lack of sleep and emotions on high, but he’d opened the floodgates now.

“Well, I’m not a fragile piece of glass that needs to be in a bubble day in and day out,” she returned, “or maybe I am, who knows! But I don’t want to be thought of that way. You know that. It makes me feel worse about myself and what I’m capable of and gives me heightened anxiety. I worry when you worry and it’s a vicious cycle!”

Closing his mouth, he forced himself to inhale a lungful of air through his nose, releasing it between his lips. “I do know. But it’s how I’m wired; I can’t help it sometimes.” Dropping his arms to his sides, he sighed. Gods, of course she wasn’t fragile. She was, far and away, the strongest woman, the toughest human being he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing let alone sharing a life with. He made it a point to remind her of that every single day, with all sincerity. She was the best thing that could have ever happened to him, bar none. Some days he wondered how and why he’d gotten so damn lucky, such as now. He was doing the very thing he swore he wouldn’t. Her father had been overbearing enough. And it wasn’t all-consuming always, but sometimes his nerves got the best of him.

Dany’s eyes narrowed. “Did you think I died or something?”

The dagger twisted in his stomach once more. “That’s where the worst of my thoughts went, yes.”

With a hard look and silence, she went back into the bathroom. For a while there was nothing but the sound of her trying to feed her brush through her hair.

“Dany.”

“What?” She asked through her teeth.

Maybe he ought to give her time and space to breathe for a few minutes, but gods, he needed her so, so bad. Just to physically hold her and know she was safe and whole and unhurt, but also that he had made a colossal fuck-up. He’d seen the tears welling in her eyes before she could hide them away, and it broke him. He was a blistering idiot. She had texted him that her test came back normal, and yet here he was with frazzled, totally frayed nerves.

Dany had one too many brushes with death in her young life, and he knew how she felt about that, too.

He crossed the room and stopped at the threshold, discovering that she was having a hell of a time getting the tangles out, and her face was scrunched adorably. Without a word, he reached for the brush and took it from her. A little stubbornly, her arms fell to her sides, defeated. Jon parted her hair in half and twisted it up out of the way while he gently began with the under layers first.

He could feel her eyes burning through him in the mirror. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he looked her straight in the eyes, his voice thick and gruff.

Wordlessly she spun around and curled her arms around his shoulders, nestling her face into his neck. In return, he secured her against him, nuzzling into her half dried hair and kissing the top of her head several times.

All of the fear seemed to evaporate off of his shoulders having her gathered up in his arms, grounding him, and maybe even herself. They stayed like that for a while before Jon moved them to the bedroom and he had her sit, then crawled up behind her on the bed to finish her hair. Nobody spoke for a time, but it wasn’t a tense silence, at least.

Once he finished, she reached back to squeeze his thigh, then stood to her feet and dropped her towel. Although his body reacted as it always did, it was evident that they both needed a good rest. He scooted to the edge of the bed and after she’d pulled on her silky sleep shorts, he motioned for her to lift her arms, and he slid on the matching top.

Before he could move again, she stepped between his legs and curled her arms around his head, holding him against her abdomen while he, happily, linked his arms around her middle and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. Softly, she hushed him when he made a sound to argue. “I wish I didn’t get so defensive. Maybe it’ll get better with time.”

Shifting his head, he planted his chin on her breast bone and peered up at her, while she gazed back down on him and raked her fingers through his hair. “I don’t want you to change, Dany. Not anything, not ever.”

She studied his face for a few beats, her other hand cradling one side before she leaned down to kiss him sweetly. Jon did not consider himself a religious man, but she was the closest thing to heaven that he could conjure up. Rolling back, he took her with him fully onto the bed as she squeaked, and situated them so he could lay beside her. There was barely any part of them that wasn’t touching, their limbs a tangled mess.

“And anyway…,” he smirked slyly, “S’kind of sexy when you put me in my place.”

She quirked one thick eyebrow, her index tracing over his facial features. He was seconds away from completely passing out, the heaviness looming over his eyes. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” he conceded lazily, sliding his hand under her shirt to smooth over her warm back, her velvety skin a contrast against his worn hands and making her shiver under it. “How was your vacation?”

Dany pulled a face, lifting one shoulder. “Fun, but I bet I missed you more than you missed me.”

“I doubt that very much,” he croaked, blinking slowly now, but fighting it. “Has your boss ever thrown you out of your workplace for moping over your husband?”

“Jon!” She gasped, perfectly affronted and pinching his cheek.

He chuckled sleepily, then buried his face in her chest, kissing at the exposed skin there. “I think it did everyone a favor, honestly. And it was almost completed anyway, so…”

“So, you risked a job you adore and traveled eight hours unplanned, all because my arse was clumsy and let my phone go for a swim?”

“No,” he resurfaced from the warm haven of her skin, tilting his head up to see her properly, “because I love you. And don’t think I wouldn’t do it again,” he frowned in thought as an idea formed, “maybe we should get you one of those old people phones that you can wear like a necklace.”

Dany tossed her head back with a burst of laughter, and Ghost materialized on the bed to see what all the ruckus was about, until he decided he didn’t care anymore and stole Jon’s side of the bed. Jon grinned madly, rolling onto his back. Dany folded her arms over his chest while she caught her breath, her hair a silver curtain around them. “You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged quietly, leaning over to switch off the lamp, then curled herself around him completely, her breath tickling his cheek. “I love you so much,” she whispered, her hand returning to his face to caress.

The dull moonlight filtered in through the window, casting one half of her face in a faint blue. She pulled him closer and he poured all of his words and soul into his kiss, giving her a few small pecks afterwards. “I love you more than anything in this world, Daenerys.”

#jonerys #jonerys drabble #fic prompts #is it really a drabble if its 2700 words?

57 notes · View notes

smoll-tangerine · 1 year

Note

HELLO!!!!!! im so glad you’re active again!!!!! may i please be added to after the tone taglist? 😭 im so excited!!!! i love angst it’s gonna be sooooo goooood

HI BBYGRILL!!! yes, i'm FINALLY done with school (though, i still have to work on my master's thesis, but that's not due any time soon so hehe yk what that means).

THANKS FOR YOUR INTEREST BB, you're added to the taglist! (i luv your user btw)

#nini.asks #untilsunset #w: after the tone: voicemails i want to keep #taglist: after the tone: voicemails i want to keep

0 notes

littlemissaddict · 3 years

Text

Me Without Us

Summary: Inspired but the song 'Me W/O Us" by Set It Off.

Word Count: 2288

⚠️ Warnings: Smut

The first few times the picture showed up on her Instagram feed, y/n didn’t think much about it. It wasn’t uncommon for Charlie and the people he was working with to go out between scenes and explore the town they were in. After all he loved an adventure and it was one of the things she loved about him. That and the fact that she trusted him completely is why she didn’t originally give it anymore thought until it began to appear more often. Fans sharing it and questioning whether they were together or commenting on how good they looked together and how much they ‘shipped’ them. Y/n knew it was just speculation, she knew how Charlie felt about her as he made sure to tell her every time they spoke or messaged but that didn’t stop her from scrolling through the comments. It was a mistake and she knew this but once she had started it was hard to stop especially when she found herself agreeing with them. It began to spiral out of control when she found herself on the actress’s Instagram, scrolling through her pictures. She couldn’t deny that she was pretty, she was also pretty freaking talented and that was when the self doubt began to kick in. Maybe Charlie would be better off with her, they did look good together, she thought.

She was interrupted from her scrolling when Charlie’s name popped up on her screen and she answered trying to keep the hurt out of her voice.

“Hey baby, how’s your day been?” Charlie asked, the same as he did in every phone call and he’d listen to everything she had to say whether it would be her ranting about something that had happened at work or just her telling him about a new movie she had watched, he would listen to every word before he would tell her silly stories from the day on set. However today she had nothing to say just settled on telling him it was fine but Charlie picked up that something was off straight away and he wasted no time in asking her.

“What’s wrong are you feeling okay?” he asked and she hated the way he asked with so much concern, she hated being distant with him and usually she told him everything but she didn’t know how to approach it feeling the way she did.

“Just a bit tired that’s all” she replied and it wasn’t a lie, she was tired as she’d been up early for work but he didn’t have to know the full reason.

“Oh okay, well I’ll let you get some sleep then” he said gloomily as she hummed in response, “I love you and I miss you baby” he says softly as he hangs up.

Sighing, y/n places her phone on the nightstand and lays back on the bed, her mind racing. She doesn’t know how long she lays there but sleep doesn’t seem to come so she settles for just staring up at the ceiling when her phone began buzzing from the nightstand, taking a quick look she sees Charlie’s name again this time though she ignores it, not having the energy to talk right now. The ringing stops and instead her phone buzzes in quick bursts as someone, she guesses Charlie, sends her multiple messages as she turns over and finally lets sleep over take her.

It's early the next morning when she wakes as though a tiny gap in the curtains she can see the sun just beginning to rise and she yawns as she reaches for her phone to check the time, that's when she sees the missed calls and messages that Charlie left last night. Opening the messages, she sees he had sent her the picture of him and the girl together and her heart drops until she reads the messages underneath.

This is what you saw right?

Please believe me when I say that there is nothing going on between us no matter what the fans seem to think.

I love you and only you.

Please talk to me baby.

After reading the messages she was quick to press the call button, hoping that he was free to answer but she knew it was coming to the end of shooting and they probably would be trying to get all the last minute scenes done. When the phone went to voicemail she knew he must be busy and she hung up deciding to get dressed and maybe find something to keep herself busy.

She was in the middle of making lunch when her phone rang and she almost dropped the plate she was holding in her rush to find the phone. A sigh of relief escaping her lips when she saw Charlie’s name on the screen as she answered quickly.

“Charlie I’m sorry” Y/n apologises as soon as she answers the phone.

“It’s okay y/n, I know long distance isn’t easy but just trust me when I say there is no me without us” he says and she agrees “Just a couple more days and I’ll be home and I can show you just how much I love you” he reminders her with a hint of teasing in his tone which causes a her cheeks to flush at what he's suggesting but it makes her smile nonetheless. They talk for a bit until he is called back to set and he makes sure to tell her he loves her again before they hang up.

The days go by quickly and before she knows it Charlie’s walking through the door of their apartment, dropping his bags and pulling her into him.

“I. Missed. You.” he says, each word followed by a kiss that lasts longer than the one before it until her backs against the wall and they’re pulling away for breath.

“I missed you too” she says breathily having not fully caught her breath from the last kiss Charlie had left on her lips before he's pulling her in for another. Her hands make their way up to tangle into his hair which had gotten longer since the last she had seen him, as his lips left hers to trail kisses down her jaw and onto her neck. She gasped when she felt his teeth graze the skin just below her ear and she tugged on his hair pulling him back up to her face so she could kiss him again.

She breaks the kiss again moments later when she feels Charlie's hands sliding from her waist down to her ass as he pulls her into him just as he rolls his hips against hers, moaning his name when she feels his hard cock pressing against her.

"Bed, now" she mumbles, pulling him in the direction of their room as their lips collide in another kiss.

Getting to the bedroom takes longer than it should have done as they stop to kiss on every available surface as well as pulling off each other's clothes on the way.

When they finally make it to the bedroom they're both down to their underwear and Charlie wastes no time in removing her bra and directing her to lay on the bed. Once there he follows until he's hovering over her leaning down to press a quick to her lips before pulling back and chuckling to himself as she tries to follow his lips.

"Tease" she whines.

"Tell me what you want baby" he smiles down at her, resting his weight on one arm so that he can use a hand to brush the hair out of her face.

"Kiss me, touch me, anything Charlie please" she moans, tired of the teasing. He does as she asks, leaning down and capturing her lips as his hand trails from her face over her boobs, caressing the soft skin there before making its way down to the waistband of her underwear.

"Please" she breathes against his lips, moaning into the kiss when he slips his hand below the fabric and brushes against her. Without warning he slips his fingers into her causing her grip in his hair to tighten which pulls a groan from the boy.

When he pulls his fingers from her she almost whines at the loss of them until she realises he's moved to pull her underwear down and then his own.

"Are you still on the pill?" he questions as he settles between her legs waiting for her reply, when she nods he smiles, lining up with her "good because I don't want to use a condom" he answers as she pulls him down so there chest to chest as he slowly pushes in.

"Char-oh wait please" she moans out once he's all the way in and he stills his hips looking at her with concern, "it's been awhile just give me a minute" she breathes, trying not to focus on the slight discomfort of him stretching her. Understanding, he waits pressing kisses to her face which make her giggle and he trails featherlight touches down her arm until he reaches her hand, intertwining their fingers until she's telling him to move.

He pulls out slowly before bucking his hips forward, groaning her name as he does. He repeats the motion and he knows he's not going to last long as he's gone so long without her and it seems she feels the same.

"I'm close" she warns after a few more thrusts and he speeds up his hips, determined to make her feel good. She pulls him close again, finding his lips and pulling him into yet another kiss, although it's not as coordinated as the ones before. This kiss is only broken after a particularly deep thrust as she moans his name.

"I know baby, cum for me" he coaxes and she does, clinging onto him as he helps her through it. His own hips stutter in their movement as he cums with a groan, collapsing down onto her body as she holds him, her hands carding through his hair as he rides out his own pleasure.

They lay there, holding each other as their breathing returns to normal before Charlie gets up to get a washcloth to clean them both up. After he's done, he helps her back into her underwear and gives her one of his shirts to wear as he pulls on some sweatpants to climb into bed next to her.

"I'm happy you're home" she smiles, cuddling into his side.

"Me too, I hate leaving you" he says, noticing her eyes closing and the little yawn she does he chuckles "take a nap I'll be right here when you wake up"

Later that evening, they're cuddled on the couch with a movie playing on the TV with empty take out cartons on the table in front of them as Charlie tells her stories from set. He was in the middle of telling her a story about how the cast went out for dinner and one of his co stars was getting hit on towards the end leaving her feeling pretty uncomfortable so he stepped in and offered to walk her back to the hotel. He explains that was what had happened the night the photo was taken and she can't help but smile at the boy in front of her.

"Now I know you didn't want to go public with our relationship but if we did it may stop the fans' speculation like they did with that photo" he suggested, running his hand over her bare legs where they were laid across his lap.

"I don't know Char, you know I don't like people's attention and what if the fans don't like me" she says quietly.

"They'd be crazy not to even the guys have told you that," he says, making her smile slightly as she remembered when they told his jatp cast mates, they had all accepted her really quickly and Maddie had told her that if they did tell the fans that they would love her. "Besides, look at how well the fans accepted Jeremy and Carolynn," he adds. She knew he was right, the fans had been nothing but supportive of the two but Carolynn was amazing and y/n didn't think it was possible for anyone to hate her.

"Okay," she agrees, still slightly hesitant to do so, "but how are we going to tell them?" she asks, noticing the way Charlie’s face lights up.

"I have and idea" he grins reaching for his phone, he pulls her closer to him so that she's almost sat in his lap and adjusts the edge of the shirt she's wearing so that it covers more of her legs before clasping their hands together and resting then in her lap as he snaps a picture. She watches curiously as he types on his phone before hearing her phone buzz letting her know she has a notification, when she opens it she see that Charlie has tagged her in a photo and he's captioned it 'back home with my girl'

"You don't think it's too suggestive?" She asks after putting her phone down after she's gotten to look at the photo.

"Of course not" he smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, only stopping to pull apart when her phone begins buzzing crazily. She warily picks it up seeing the notifications of comments and follow requests and she looks up at Charlie with wide eyes.

"Oh my god" she says biting her lip and opting to turn her phone on silent to deal with the aftermath in the morning so that she can spend the rest of Charlie’s first night back with him.

#julie and the phantoms cast #charlie gillespie #charlie x reader #smut #song fic #julie and the phantoms #jatp

194 notes · View notes

lupiiifics · 2 years

Text

Of Poison and Mending

Fic #8 posted on AO3 on November 12, 2021.

Summary: Lupin is poisoned by a mysterious woman. Jigen and Goemon help.

Word Count: 6149

Notes: One of these day I'll get these up on the right day.

There was something in his drink.

By the time he’d realized it, he had already stumbled out of the bistro with the mission of making it back to their hideout. He thought at first he was going the right way, but the longer he walked the more unfamiliar everything looked. His vision blurred and his breathing was heavy and fast. The world kept dipping under his feet, threatening to trip him and causing him to walk like a drunk. At some point he found himself in an alleyway, his legs numb and no longer cooperating with him.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out the droning of the town and the thoughts running through his head. He knew he should call someone. Maybe even call out for help, but his limbs were slow and unresponsive. He couldn't seem to remember where he had stashed his cellphone, and even when he did find it, the screen was too bright and indecipherable.

He typed out what he thought was Jigen's number, and hoped against everything that the gunman's phone wasn't dead and that he had the ringtone on. He didn't think he'd have much luck calling Goemon. It was rare that he even had his phone on him, let alone charged. Fujiko and Zenigata weren't in France as far as he knew, so they weren't an option either. Last he'd heard Fujiko was on a job somewhere in America and Pops had been ordered back to Japan after their latest escapade. Which left Jigen, who was less than attentive when it came to his phone.

It felt like an eternity as the number rang. The sound was so grating he held the receiver away from his ear, still close enough to hear but far enough that it didn't feel like jackhammers banging against his eardrums. The longer he waited the more it hurt, yet Jigen didn't seem eager to answer. It went to voicemail.

He groaned, almost sobbing as he heard the gruff greeting Jigen had probably recorded while drunk. It did little to comfort him, even knowing it was the number he needed.

His hands were shaking as he tried again, still holding the phone away from his ear. This time it rang three times before being picked up. The voice on the other end was muffled. He could hear the rustle of fabric, like Jigen was wrestling a sea full of cotton to get to him. His words were clipped and irritated, groggy despite his attempt to hide it.

"What do you want , Lupin? I'm tryin' to sleep."

“I-I don’t— Jigen ?” Talking was harder than he had expected. His tongue seemed to be just as sluggish as the rest of his body, and the longer he sat there the worse it seemed to get. The shaking in his hands was so bad he could barely keep his grip on his phone. It almost tumbled out of his hand several times, yet he refused to let go. He heard Jigen huff against the receiver, like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Yeah? What’cha need? And hurry up. I want to get back to my nap,” Jigen’s tone had softened very slightly, though he sounded more confused than anything. Lupin tried his best to organize his thoughts, but any time something concrete would hit him, it would slip away before he could do anything with it.

“Something’s… wrong . I n-need your… your help.”

“What do you mean something’s wrong?” Jigen sounded genuinely confused now. His words were clearer, like he was closer to the phone. When he didn’t immediately receive a response, he said, “Lupin? You there?”

“Y-Yeah,” Lupin pressed the phone against his cheek, leaning it down onto his shoulder. His hand hurt too much to keep holding the phone, so he carefully tucked it back against him where it would be safe. The world was becoming more and more fuzzy. There was a blackness around the edge of his vision. One he did not want to succumb to. “ Please , Jigen. I jus’... I need your help.”

Jigen sounded exasperated. “Look, you’re not givin’ me much to go off here, man. You gotta tell me what happened. Where are you?”

“I don’t know…” Lupin couldn’t for the life of him remember the way he had gone after he had left the bistro. Everything was so foggy he wasn’t even sure this was happening. It could have all been a dream to his mind, no matter how impossible that was for a person like him. “Some alleyway. I...I think the lady slipped somethin’ into my drink.”

“What lady? Where’d you go?”

“Th—that bistro in town,” Lupin said. “The one run by that woman— Rae.”

“An’ you think she slipped you something? You sure you didn’t just have one too many?”

“‘M not drunk ,” Lupin said, though even to his own ears that wasn’t convincing. “I had one drink.”

“Why would the woman at the bistro have it out for you?” Jigen asked. “Maybe you—”

“ No ,” Lupin was becoming frustrated. He huffed, the sound amplified by the receiver. “Maybe nothing . That woman poisoned me, Jiji.”

“Alright, alright,” he heard more rustling coming from the other end of the phone as well as what he thought was the popping of Jigen’s knees. “I’m on my way. Just stay there. Me and Goemon will find you.”

“Thank you,” Lupin said. “Hurry.”

“It’s gonna take me a bit to track you down,” Jigen said. “Stay on the phone, and don’t close your eyes. I swear if I show up and you’re dead—”

“That’s impossible ,” Lupin said. “I’m… I’m Lupin the 3rd. I’m immortal .”

He could hear the eyeroll in Jigen’s voice, his words flat but also quietly concerned. He tried to laugh it off, but didn’t quite succeed. “Whatever you say, man. Can’t believe you were poisoned by some lady. Thought we were professionals?”

Lupin chuckled, the sound weak and distant. “She was pretty,” he said. “Couldn’t help it. You know me.”

“I should’a known,” Jigen tried to sound disappointed, but the tone fell flat. “One of these days you’ll learn, you know that?”

“Yup,” Lupin could feel the hum of sleep creeping up on him. He fought to keep his eyes open. “You know you like playing my knight in shining armor.”

“No flirting while you’re dying,” Jigen said. “Save it for after I’ve saved your ass.”

“My hero ,” Lupin sing-songed, his voice edged with a yawn. His eyes were growing heavy, and it was getting harder to resist. “I’m tired , Jiji.”

Jigen sounded concerned. His voice was stern. It did little to quell the fatigue plaguing Lupin’s entire body. “Lupin, do not fall asleep, you hear me? I’m grabbing supplies now. Do not close your eyes.”

“I’m tryin’,” Lupin said. “I don’t feel right, Daisuke.”

“I know,” Jigen said. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“‘S okay,” Lupin said. “It’s dark .”

“Keep your eyes open, okay?” Jigen said. “Lupin?”

“I’m sorry,” Lupin said, and that was the last Jigen heard from him.

*CLICK*

Jigen pressed his hat down onto his head, staring at the phone in his hand. The screen had switched off, and despite his attempts to call Lupin back, it wasn't working. His heart was in his throat. He rushed to get out of the house, trying against his mounting panic to remember where Goemon had said he'd be today. Jigen knew he liked to train close to the trees by their hideout, but he'd recently discovered a clearing that was further into the patch of woods. If Goemon were there it would take him more time than he had to catch up. He didn’t know Lupin’s condition, but based on their conversation, Jigen guessed they didn’t have long.

He tried calling Lupin again as he stormed out of the house, knowing full-well it wasn’t going to work. Still, he had to try something . He hated being useless in situations like this. He hated not knowing where Lupin was. He hated the dizzying fear that ran through his veins as well as the disorienting buzz of being woken from a dead sleep. It made him feel anxious, and he hated being anxious.

He rounded a corner of the house, trying to be as quick as possible. When he made it to the backyard, he scanned the treeline for Goemon with his eyes. There wasn't any movement where Jigen knew the samurai liked to train, which probably meant he was in the clearing. That wasn't something he was sure they could afford right now. Lupin could be dying. Someone could have followed him and attacked him while he was unconscious. That wasn't—

"Jigen?"

Jigen whipped around the moment he heard Goemon's voice, his hat askew and his eyes wide with surprise. He was so shocked to see the samurai standing there that he forgot to speak, his mouth open but frozen in spite of his best efforts. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and said, "Goemon! There you are. Lupin's in trouble. We have to go."

Goemon's brow furrowed. "What do you mean Lupin’s in trouble? I thought you were napping."

"I was ," Jigen said, "but Lupin called me not soundin' right. He says he's been poisoned by that lady at the bistro."

"Poisoned?” Goemon frowned. “Why would that woman want to poison Lupin?"

“Hell if I know, man,” Jigen said. “He sounded really rough on the phone. I think he passed out. He’s not answering my calls anymore.”

“Do you know where he is?” Goemon asked. “How can we find him?”

Jigen shrugged. “He’s in some alleyway. I don’t know much other than that.”

Goemon nodded. “Then we will head to the bistro and work our way from there. It’s not a big town. It should not be hard to find him.”

“I fucking hope so,” Jigen said. “Because I might have to kill him for falling for something like this. Again.”

“We all have our faults, Jigen,” Goemon said. There was a ghost of a smile on his face, his eyes bright and amused despite the circumstances. “Unfortunately, Lupin’s are beautiful women.”

Jigen smirked despite himself, reaching up to fix his hat and adjust the brim so it sat over the majority of his face. “You say that like you’re any different. If I recall correctly, you’ve fallen into your fair share of traps over the years, Goemon.”

Goemon averted his eyes, turning to lead the two of them back around the corner of the house. “We’ve all fallen for traps, Daisuke. It comes with the life of a criminal.”

Jigen shook his head, following Goemon in the direction of the driveway. “If you say so, Goe. Though I like to think I’m better than that.”

“Yet you walk into traps with Lupin all the time,” Goemon said, deadpan.

Jigen waved a hand. “Yeah, but that’s different.”

Goemon looked at him, his eyebrow raised. “Explain?”

Jigen smiled, though Goemon could sense the tension hiding just beneath the surface. “Well, someone has to bail the bastard out. If it weren’t for me— for either of us— Lupin would be dead a thousand times over.”

“It is good he has us then, isn’t it?”

Jigen nodded. “He’s lucky we put up with this shit. Callin’ me in the middle of my nap. Why’d he have to go an’ get himself poisoned?”

Goemon shrugged. “Beautiful women, remember? It’s our boss’s main weakness.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jigen said. “One of these days I’ll teach him. Though I think most of it goes in one ear and out the other.”

“I think your efforts will be futile,” Goemon said. He strode past the porch steps to get to the extra car they had stashed in the garage, waiting by the door for Jigen. “Lupin will never change. Not unless he wants to.”

Jigen pulled out the set of keys he’d gotten from the house, using them to unlock the door at the side of the garage. Inside was a small green car with two doors. It was somewhat similar to the Fiat, with the main difference being the lack of a sunroof, and the overall flatness of the vehicle. It was boxier than he was used to. More squares and hard lines than curves and ovals. “Hey, he’s changed on us before,” Jigen said. “I’m gonna keep holding out hope.”

Goemon chuckled. “Do not come to me when you end up disappointed,” he said. “I do not think Lupin can change that part of himself.”

Jigen sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right, but a guy can dream, can’t he?”

“Yes he can,” Goemon said. He ducked into the passenger side seat once Jigen got it unlocked, turning to look at his partner as he followed suit. “Shall we?”

Jigen bobbed his head. He turned the key in the ignition and eased the car forward out of the garage. He rested his hand on the gear shift and sat back in his seat. “Let’s go get our partner,” he said.

They started at the bistro. A small building in the middle of the town square. It seemed to be a small brick building surrounded by people, though Jigen wasn’t surprised. In such a small town, there wasn’t much to do. They didn’t even have a bar, so the only good place to go for a drink was the bistro. That’s where Lupin had found Rae. He’d been instantly infatuated the moment he saw her, spending many of their mornings trying to beat the crowd before Rae got too busy. As far as Jigen was aware, it wasn’t going how Lupin had wanted. Rae was a stubborn woman. She didn’t give into the advances of men like Lupin easily, but Lupin was anything if not persistent. He didn’t think that constituted poisoning a person, but Jigen decided he’d tackle that issue once they actually found him.

They pulled up to the bistro’s front parking lot, maneuvering into a spot near the front and getting out. The Fiat was left abandoned at the back of the lot, sitting with the sunroof open and a carton of Lupin’s favorite cigarettes sitting in the front seat. It was concerning that Lupin had forgotten he’d brought the car. From the sounds of it, he had attempted to walk back to the hideout instead of drive.

“He said he was in an alleyway, yes?” Goemon asked, not sure where to start. He’d been right when he said this was a small town, but that didn’t mean there weren’t plenty of places for a master thief to slip into to hide. “Do you have any idea where?”

“All he mentioned was the bistro. I don’t know anything other than that.” Jigen said.

“Have you tried calling him again?” Goemon asked. “Maybe it will draw attention?”

Jigen fished his phone out of his pocket, pressing the power button to turn on the screen. He couldn’t help but be a little disappointed by the lack of notifications coming from their resident thief, but he couldn’t have said he was surprised. “Attention probably isn’t what he needs right now,” Jigen said. “But we might be able to hear it if we walk around. I doubt he got far. He sounded pretty out of it when I talked to him.”

Goemon nodded. He gestured forward, and followed Jigen out into the square. “Lead the way,” he said.

Jigen pulled up the multiple failed calls he’d attempted to make and tapped the number again to get it ringing. They started at one end of the square, calling the number again any time it dropped in hopes of catching Lupin’s ringtone. They slowed around every alleyway, peering inside to make sure he wasn’t at the other end of in the middle between two buildings. He was beginning to lose hope as they rounded the square, nearly back to the parking lot of the bistro. People around the square stared at them, eyeing Zantetsuken and Goemon specifically. Jigen was too focused to notice any of their stares, trying to listen through the noisy crowds of people.

For this being such a small town, there were a lot of people. Most of them seemed to be shopping, with bags and other treats littering their person. Normally, this would be paradise for people like them. Quaint little shops with expensive props. Rich people coming in from the city to get a taste for the “simple life.” They could have taken anything they wanted, all to pay for a meal or satisfy a current bet fueled by alcohol and the promise of a good time.

But today was not a normal day. Someone was trying to kill their boss, and Jigen was frankly pissed about it.

He heard a noise as they rounded yet another corner, peering into the various alleyways located between the buildings. It was faint, almost quiet enough to be drowned out by the town-goers, but something about it pulled Jigen’s attention away from his phone, to a passageway a street over. Outside the main square of the town was a residential area. Most of it consisted of tiny identical houses, as well as apartment buildings suitable for the various college students attending the college a town over. The sound was coming from the end of a path which connected with the main square, placed directly between two tall red-brick apartment buildings. He thought he heard saxophones, which hopefully meant they were close.

“Hear that?” He asked Goemon as they stopped at the end of the pathway leading out of the square. They paused before entering, trying somewhat in vain to hear over the passing people behind them.

“Do you think it’s him?” Goemon asked. He remained behind Jigen’s shoulder, his hand grasping the sheath of Zantetsuken just under the hilt, but not drawing it.

Jigen strode deeper into the alleyway, the surrounding buildings blocking out a surprising amount of sunlight. He couldn’t see the end of the lane despite it being daytime, their only indication of life being the low hum of what he thought was jazz music. “Maybe,” he said. “Let’s check it out.”

He had the overwhelming urge to grasp his Magnum and pull it out, but refrained from doing so to keep his focus on the path ahead of them. He’d walked into enough traps to recognize this setup, and while that drove his senses crazy, he knew if he needed to, his draw would be fast enough to protect himself, and both of his partners. Plus, Goemon was just as fast, if not faster than him. He’d surely be able to handle an ambush, no matter how sophisticated their perceived enemies might be.

He found the phone first. It was lying face up on the damp blacktop, brightly illuminated in the encroaching darkness. He heard Goemon gasp the moment he looked beyond the phone, rushing past Jigen’s shoulder once he realized who’d left the device behind. Jigen picked the phone up and pressed the red “end call” button, switching off the screen to pull his attention forward. Goemon had completely forgotten his grip on Zantetsuken, and was now crouching beside the familiar body of Lupin, propped weakly against one of the apartment buildings. Jigen followed suit, his knees immediately wet with the previous night’s rainwater.

Jigen’s heart stuttered in his chest as he went to check Lupin’s vitals, almost afraid of touching him for fear of making this real. His brain felt sluggish as his hands moved in what felt like slow-motion, the reality of the situation hitting his chest in a huge rush of emotion.

He hid his panic behind the task of inspecting Lupin, straightening his face to get a better look at him. Lupin’s skin was pale. Paler than they’d ever seen him and clammy to the touch. It was like he was watching a movie, his movements unfamiliar and not quite his own. He worked on autopilot, checking for a pulse and listening at his mouth to make sure he was breathing.

Goemon watched him with a look of concern, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown deep on his face. It felt like ages before Jigen’s features softened, and he slumped his shoulders.

“He’s alive,” he said. “Out of it, but alive.”

The tension drained from Goemon’s face, and he slumped too. “Good,” he said. “What do we do now?”

Jigen produced a small bottle of water and a plain white packet from the pocket of his jacket, gesturing with both hands for Goemon to take the thief and hold him up.

“I need you to open his mouth for me. If he’s really been poisoned, this should help.”

“What is it?” Goemon asked. He took Lupin by the shoulders, and laid him across his lap to be propped against his chest instead of the wall. He watched as Jigen ripped the top of the packet, pouring a dark powder into the water and shaking it up thoroughly.

“Activated charcoal,” Jigen said. “It’ll stop any remaining poison from entering his bloodstream. Hopefully, it's enough to help him filter it out instead of killing him.”

“And then what?” Goemon asked.

“We take him back to the hideout and wait. We won’t know whether this’ll work until the poison begins to leave his system. Open his mouth.”

Goemon nodded. He pressed two fingers against either side of Lupin’s jaw, forcing his mouth open as Jigen prepared to pour the drink down his throat. They had to do this slowly, opening and closing Lupin’s mouth in order to get him to drink all of the water. Once Jigen was satisfied, he stashed the bottle and packet in his pocket to be disposed of later.

“How long will it take for the poison to leave his body?” Goemon asked.

Jigen shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “Now, it’s a waiting game.”

“Great,” Goemon said. “And if we were too late?”

Jigen’s face darkened. He turned his face downwards, hiding his eyes under the brim of his hat. “We find a new employer,” he said. “There’s not much else we can do. The hospital is a no-go. Especially with those mobsters on our backs.”

Goemon grimaced at the memory of their most recent heist, his shoulder aching from the mention alone. “Do you think they are responsible for this?’

Jigen sighed, his fingers restlessly working the rim of his hat just above his nose. “Who knows. For now, let’s just focus on getting him back to the hideout.”

“Alright,” Goemon said. “Do you want to get the car? I doubt it would be smart to carry Lupin all the way back.”

Jigen nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be right back,” he tossed Lupin’s phone at the samurai. “Call me if anything happens.”

Goemon caught the phone in deft hands, staring between it and the gunman. He looked up to say something about not remembering to use it, but Jigen was already walking away.

They loaded Lupin up into the back of the Fiat, deciding to abandon the other car in favor of their normal vehicle. He figured Lupin would appreciate that, if the thief woke up, that was.

The drive to the hideout was quiet. Goemon sat in the back with Lupin laid out on his lap. He trailed careful fingers through his partner’s hair, watching as his chest slowly rose and fell. Jigen kept his eyes staunchly on the road, focusing his attention on getting back instead of storming the bistro. In truth, he was upset. Goemon could feel it from the tension of his shoulders alone, the fury of what they’d done heavy on both of their hearts. Jigen had the distinct urge to drop Lupin off and confront that woman, but he knew that’d be a task left for when Lupin woke up.

Getting him into the house was as simple as carrying him in and putting him to bed. They decided a change in clothes was in order since Lupin had been lying in a damp alleyway. Once done, the waiting game truly began. They tucked Lupin into the bed the three of them shared, watching as he whimpered and shivered in his sleep.

The sight of it made Jigen sick. He wanted nothing more than for Lupin to be okay. If only to overshadow the intense anger he attempted to shove down. He remained by Lupin’s side, ready to act if anything went wrong.

Goemon decided to work on more domestic tasks, never far from the two of them, but not able to sit idle by Lupin’s bedside either. Being still forced Goemon to focus on what he couldn’t fix, so he focused on other things to keep him busy. He decided lunch was in order, and before long, Jigen could smell the familiar scent of udon being prepared in the kitchen.

When he was finished, they ate in silence. Goemon tried several times to breach the reticence, but couldn’t find the words to describe what either of them were feeling.

Which meant waiting was their only option. Jigen sat in a chair he’d gotten from their dining room, an ashtray next to him on the bedside table. By the third hour of waiting, Jigen had finished his second pack, leaving to grab another one and continuing his activity of brooding and smoking one cigarette after another. Goemon had seen Jigen angry on multiple occasions. It wasn’t an unfamiliar emotion for any of them, but this was something different. He knew he had to do something. Even if it was merely an attempt at comfort.

“Hey, Jigen?” Goemon said. “Can I ask you something?”

Jigen leaned over the back of his chair, ducking his chin against one of his hands. He waved the other, humming for Goemon to continue. “Shoot,” he said.

“Are you okay?” Goemon asked. Jigen turned in his seat to look at him, only one of his eyes visible from underneath his hat.

“What do you think?” he asked. He turned back to stare at Lupin, his face blank as he shoved another cigarette into his mouth.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Goemon said. “I have seen you angry, but I’ve never seen you so quiet about it before.”

“They poisoned our partner,” Jigen said. “He could die , Goemon. I have a right to be angry.”

Goemon held up his hands. “I know that,” he said. “It is just… not what I’m used to. You do not normally bottle up your emotions.”

Jigen sighed. “I’m not bottling , I’m saving . Believe me, if Lupin makes it through this, I’m goin’ to that bistro and getting some answers.”

“I will come with you,” Goemon said. “And together, we’ll get those answers you seek.”

“But not until Lupin wakes up,” Jigen said. “I have to be there to remind him how idiotic he is for fallin’ for this.”

“Of course,” Goemon said. “I wouldn’t want either of us to miss that.”

Jigen crushed his cigarette without meaning to, littering the floor with bits of unsmoked tobacco. He shoved the broken cigarette into the tray, lifting his pack from the table and lighting another one. “He has to wake up,” he said. “Because I have to be the one to kill him for doing this to us.”

“You keep saying that,” Goemon said. “But in reality, I think you will be relieved when he wakes up.”

“Of course I will be,” Jigen said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed at the same time. I know getting hurt is part of this job, but I swear he does this on purpose sometimes.”

Goemon nodded. “Lupin is a man of thrills,” he said. “I believe that is his main motivation for being a thief.”

“Man, get your thrill elsewhere. What’s so good about women trying to kill you?”

“Who knows,” Goemon said. “We should ask once Lupin awakens.”

Jigen shook his head. “I don’t think we’d like the answer. The man gets off on things like this.”

Goemon frowned. “Unfortunately, yes. He finds appeal in even the deadliest of people.”

Jigen pressed his cheek against the top of the chair’s backrest, sighing out a lungful of smoke. “I guess I can’t really say much though.”

“And why’s that?” Goemon asked.

Jigen gestured in the air with his cigarette. “I’ve had my fair share of dangerous people. I mean, just look at most of my past relationships. Almost all of them tried to kill me at some point.”

“That seems to be a running theme in our group,” Goemon said. “It is good we found each other.”

“Yeah…” Jigen said. He stared at the pale face of the man in front of him, thinking through the years they’d worked together. “Though sometimes I wonder if he’ll be the death of me, too.”

The room fell into silence, the hush of the day settling to darken their windows and mellow out their bedroom. Goemon left at some point to work on another task, and Jigen dozed against his chair, cigarette in hand and his back aching from lack of movement. He lost track of time, counting Lupin’s breaths in time with his own.

When nothing seemed to happen, he fell asleep. Goemon entered periodically to check up on them, but when nothing had changed, he decided to leave Jigen alone. Jigen went in and out of staring at Lupin and sleeping, trying to ignore the slow passage of time.

It was dark when something changed. Jigen was stuck between the first few stages of sleep, not quite dozing, but not awake either. His eyes were half-lidded and staring at nothing. At some point his hat had fallen off onto the floor. It sat beside the gunman’s feet abandoned, his bangs and loose pieces of hair shading his eyes from the dim light of the room. A goran of some sort pulled him from his slumber, and he turned his eyes expecting to see Lupin shifting in bed for the thousandth time that night.

Instead, the thief’s face was contorted in pain. He shook his head back and forth, gripping the blankets tightly in both hands.

Jigen jumped up. He stepped past his chair to stand over Lupin, watching as his partner thrashed himself back into consciousness.

The moment Lupin’s eyes opened, he called Goemon’s name. Goemon rushed into the room looking drowsy, his hand gripping Zantetsuken as he scanned the room for intruders.

“What?” he said, somewhat irritated to be pulled from his meditation. He gasped the moment he saw Lupin moving on the bed, striding forward to stand beside the gunman. “Is he awake?”

“I think so,” Jigen said. “Lupin? Hey, you there?”

Lupin scrunched his eyes shut, pressing his head back against the pillows and arching his back. He grit his teeth. “J-Jiji?”

Jigen lowered himself so he was level with Lupin, sitting beside the bed on his knees. “I’m here,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Lupin said. “What happened?”

“You were poisoned, remember?” Jigen asked. He pressed his hands against Lupin’s face, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay. You’re safe, man.”

“Poisoned?” Lupin seemed to struggle for a moment, wrenching his eyes open to look at Jigen. “ Shit , Rae.”

“Yeah,” Jigen said. “She slipped something into your drink. Do you have any idea why?”

“No,” Lupin said. “I thought she was startin’ to like me.”

“I think you were wrong,” Jigen said. “Seems like she really had it out for you.”

“But why ?” Lupin asked. He seemed genuinely grieved by this, his voice small and whimpering. “She didn’t steal anything, did she?”

“I don’t think so,” Goemon said, finally stepping forward. “I think our only option is to confront the woman herself.”

“Not yet,” Lupin said. His breathing quickened, and he shook his head erratically. “Don’t leave me. Not yet.”

Goemon dropped down to be even with his partners. He grasped one of Lupin’s hands, taking it between both of his. “We’re not going anywhere,” he said. “Not until you’re ready.”

Lupin nodded. He pulled away and held out his arms, beckoning both of them forward. “Come here,” he said, voice desperate and breathy. “I need you two with me.”

“Of course,” Goemon said. He looked at Jigen, and both of them nodded. They stood and lowered themselves on either side of their thief. He wrapped himself around both of their bodies the moment he could reach them, holding them close to his chest. Goemon continued speaking, his voice muffled by the mix of his partners, and the blankets they sank down into. “We’re not going anywhere,” he said. “I promise.”

It was early morning when they finally calmed Lupin down. The shock of the entire situation had all three of them wired and wondering for answers. They knew, before the darkness of the night turned into the light of day, that they’d have to confront the woman at the bistro. The longer they waited, the less likely they were to get any evidence of what spurred Rae’s attack. For all they knew, she could be long gone by now. If they wanted any chance of figuring out what had happened, they knew they had to act quickly. Which meant, leaving Lupin behind to rest while they went back to town and broke into the building in question.

Which is what led them here, in the early morning before sunrise, exhausted from the events of the day but determined to find answers. It was relatively easy breaking into the back door of the bistro. The lock was old. It wasn’t wired to any security system that they could find, which meant the building was free for the taking.

They carefully stepped into the darkness of the back kitchen, the room illuminated by a single emergency light. Jigen’s hand hovered near his waist, ready to pull his Magnum the moment he needed it. The room was punctuated by the sound of their footsteps, keeping them alert to any possible danger.

At the front of the room was a swinging door with a circular window. Jigen used this window to look for anyone ahead of them, stepping forward to push it open when he determined it was safe. According to Lupin, the bistro was equipped with a live-in apartment, the access of which was located in the main room. He expected that door to be locked like one they’d used to enter, but when he tried the handle, it turned.

Behind the door was a set of stairs. They creaked as they carefully stepped up them, moving slowly as if to keep from alerting any possible people.

At the top of the stairs was a living room. It was furnished with a cozy-looking blue couch, an oak-wood coffee table, flat screen TV, and a single bookcase. At the back of the living room was an island and a kitchen, with two doorways leading to what Jigen assumed was the bedroom and bathroom.

They made their way through the room carefully, pressing forward past the furniture and kitchen to what Jigen guessed was the bedroom. He pushed it open, mindful of any possible noise and the possibility of an attack coming from the apartment’s resident. He didn’t know who this woman was, but if she was able to poison and nearly kill someone, he guessed she’d be capable of other things, too.

What they found wasn’t what he had been expecting. The moment he opened the door, and he and Goemon silently stepped into the room, a sharp smell alerted him to a body lying motionless on the floor. He recognized the scent of blood the moment it hit him, and he dropped his shoulders to stare at the woman prone on the ground.

“Shit,” he said. “Someone beat us to it.”

Goemon peered past his shoulder, eyeing the woman in surprise. “She’s dead?”

Jigen nodded. “Seems like it. Search her for me. I’ll scan the room to make sure no one joins us.”

Goemon dipped his head, his hair falling forward to hang over his shoulders. “Okay,” he said. “Be careful.”

Jigen gripped his Magnum, holding it ahead of him as he went about searching the room. Goemon dodged the blood to sink down beside the woman, grimacing at the gunshot wound he found on her forehead. They were silent as they worked, both spooked on behalf of what had happened here. Jigen returned when he didn’t find anything. He sank down to join Goemon, who searched the woman’s pockets and any belongings he found on her person. He was careful not to disturb her too much, respectful despite what she’d done to Lupin.

The last thing he found was a torn piece of paper. At first he thought it was unremarkable, but as he unfolded it, he realized it was more important than he thought. There was a name written in squirrely cursive, one he didn’t recognize but Jigen reacted to immediately. It read,

“Love, Asher.”

#lupin iii #jigen daisuke #goemon ishikawa #lupin the third #arsene lupin iii #whump #my writing #goemon x lupin x jigen

15 notes · View notes

dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

Forever and Never

A/N: Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: mentions of marijuana and rape

Word Count: 2493

—————————————

Five: The Beauty That Is Stanley Barber

“And after I found out what happened, I became kinda cold towards him…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That Monday, I had felt like absolute shit. I had never gotten that drunk before, that I guess I was still recovering from Ricky’s party. I hadn’t remembered much of anything other than dancing, kissing Stan, and being alone with Ricky. My mind went blank once that door locked. It truly angered me that I let myself get intoxicated enough to lose my virginity to the one person I wanted to keep it away from, but that was just the story of my life. I hadn’t spoken to anyone since then, not wanting my headache to increase by staring at a phone screen. When Pam got home, she only tutted at me as a ‘told you so’ before proceeding to baby me for the entirety of Sunday. I hadn’t complained, not for a second. In her care, I almost forgot what it was like to be swarmed by my overbearing school body. Walking into school that Monday instantly shifted my mood. The overlapping conversations, the constant bumping into everyone, countless greetings I didn’t bother to return. I just rubbed my temples and sped down the hall. Almost at my locker, I heard a familiar voice call out to me. It was too familiar to ignore, so I turned to find Dina, standing at her locker with a friend. She whispered something to her companion, leading them to smile at us both and walk away. Her eyes assessed me as I approached her, leaning against her neighboring locker. She chuckled and crossed her arms. “Well, someone is still fucked up.”

“Yeah, I feel like shit,” I mumbled. “Is Ricky looking as bad as I am?”

“No,” Dina frowned in confusion. “He was nowhere near as drunk as you.”

Despite its protest, I snapped my head up to attention. “Huh? Yeah, he was. We were both shitfaced.”

“I’m telling you, (Y/N), Ricky was tipsy for, like, half an hour. He had been looking for you once he sobered up.”

My heart dropped to my stomach as my mouth dried up. Pushing myself off of the locker, I turned and walked away, my head too foggy to hear Dina calling after me. He can’t and won’t do that to you again, (Y/N). That’s what I told myself right before entering that party.

Well, he did. And he did so much worse.

Ricky wouldn’t do that without consent, right? He was so respectful towards me, he was patient with me.

He never was patient when it came to sex. That’s why I avoided him in the first place.

My breathing was labored, my vision was clouded by tears, my mind went haywire. Ricky raped me. I got drunk and I isolated myself in a room with him. A locked room. He knew what he was doing. As I passed the girls’ bathroom, I saw a familiar blur of curls, but my mind forced my legs to keep moving. I caught onto the last bit of what he was saying to me.

“-- doing okay? How are you feeling?” When I didn’t respond, he sighed. “Why is no one talking to me today…?”

Maybe it was his defeated tone, maybe it was the fact that I trusted him most, but without a second thought, I grabbed Stan by the wrist and dragged him around the corner. I led him under the stairs and stopped when we were consumed in darkness. I opened my mouth to tell him, but where do you even start with this? My hands flew to my mouth to muffle the broken sob that escaped. Stan stiffened at the sound before ducking his head to search my face. “(Y/N)? Hey, talk to me. What happened?”

“S-Stan, Stan, I… Me and Ricky had sex at his party.” I shakily whispered. His brows furrowed, and I noticed an eye twitch, but he slowly nodded for me to continue. “B-But… But I-I just t-talked to Dina and s-s-she said that Ricky wasn’t even drunk. I-It was just me, Stan, it was just me.”

“Shit, (Y/N)...” He whispered and let me fall into his chest. I always felt safe in Stan’s presence, in his arms, and he was usually who I turned to if I ever wanted to spill out my feelings to someone. “I-I’m so sorry… Hey, hey, do you wanna go home? I-I can take you home, Nugget.”

“No, I don’t wanna go home.” That was a lie, but Pam and David were sure to be notified if I had missed any classes.

“Well, then… tell me what to do. Do you want me to kick his ass? I’ll kick his ass for you, I swear to god, (Y/N)-”

“No, don’t fight him,” I sniffled. “He’ll beat the shit out of you.”

“Hey…”

“Sorry,” I hiccupped and let him brush my tears from my cheek ever so gently. “I’m so pissed… Like, that was my first time? I didn’t get to even consent to my first time?”

“You know, I heard that if you didn’t consent, it doesn’t count. So… you don’t have to worry about that.” Strangely, his awkward approach at comforting me was what prevented me from curling into myself and spiraling. That had been a gift of his.

Pulling away, I noticed a mark on his face. When I reached up and gently brushed my thumb across the bruise on his eye, he flinched back. “W-What happened to your eye?” When he hesitated, I knew immediately. His dad was home.

“Don’t worry about it,” He mumbled, holding my hand in his. “I just wanna worry about you right now… Because this whole situation is so fucked up. Are you sure you don’t want me to fight him?”

“Well, I want him to get hurt, but not by you.” I tried a smile, but it fell immediately. With a huff, Stan wrapped his arms around me yet again and pulled me against him, letting the sounds of our fellow peers take over.

-------------------------------------------------

“As the temperature increases, if an atom loses one or more electrons, it becomes oxidized!” When Mr File realized his exclamation fell upon deaf ears, he faltered. “Uh… Yeah, okay. Goggles up. Bunsen burners on, and please, please, please, nobody burn down the school.”

Stan carefully watched me as I slapped my goggles onto my face. His hand held mine under the table, causing me to turn to him. “Hey, Nugget, I need to talk to Sydney. Are… you gonna be okay if I-”

“Go ahead.” I whispered, my eyes never leaving him. Ricky was only a table away, and I watched as Stan checked him before giving me a nod. When he turned around to talk to Syd, I felt unsafe. I felt exposed. I felt open to Ricky. My shoulders tensed as I took a deep breath, trying to focus on my work. I felt Stan’s hand on my shoulder as he leaned in close.

“I’ll be right back, I won’t leave you.”

“I know.” I nodded, allowing him to leave the table and follow Syd. My table mate asked if I could hand her the test tube with the blue liquid. I hoped to god she didn’t notice my hand trembling as I reached out to pick it up. Ricky was looking at me. I could feel it. His eyes bore into the side of my face and my hand wouldn’t stop shaking and my table mate was looking at me oddly and-

“Hey! Where are you-”

“Bathroom!”

The sudden exclamations from Sydney and Mr File snapped me out of my daze, my hand naturally letting go of the test tube. Both my classmate and I yelped as the liquid spilled across our table. We stood as our teacher quickly gathered paper towels.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I apologized profusely as I felt someone tug me away from the table. The gentle touch informed me that it was Stan and I was safe. He turned me to face him, and I felt hot tears prick the corners of my eyes.

“It’s okay, Miss (Y/L/N). Did any of it get on you?”

“Yes, it got all over me! I have to go!” The warm touch of Stan’s hands slid from my shoulders as I raced out of the classroom. I gasped aloud when I felt Ricky touch my arm.

“Babe, are you-”

“No!” I shouted at him, ripping the door open and dashing down the hall. My heart pumped in my ribcage as I flew down the stairs, hiding in the same place Stan and I were that morning. My knees pulled into my chest as my hands clutched my head.

Calm down, (Y/N)... Calm the fuck down. Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts, (Y/N).

Memories of my dad, of Jacob, of Stan flashed through my mind. My dad and I engaging in a tickle fight. Jacob practically flinging me around his bedroom to the beat of his favorite song. Stan using his comb as a microphone, pointing to me as we belt out the lyrics to some 80’s song blasting throughout his bedroom. The flat of my chest wasn’t heaving as much as I leaned against the wall. I felt safe, I felt calm.

Then I felt a hand on my wrist.

Gasping out, my head snapped up and my gaze focused on Stan. His eyes were searching my face, his hand left my wrist, but hovered close. “Do you… want a hug…?”

I was safe again. “Please.”

The rest of my day consisted of ignoring Ricky and staying under Stan’s protection. I didn’t eat lunch, despite his insisting, I almost had two more panic attacks when Ricky found me alone, and my throat was sore from holding in sobs for hours. In the end, I made it. When I came home, I locked myself in my bedroom and called my dad. He wouldn’t have to know about everything, but it would have filled my heart with so much relief if I could at least hear his voice. The dial droned once, then twice, thrice, and a fourth time before it went to voicemail.

“Please leave a message at the tone.”

My tears spilled over once I heard the high-pitch beep. “D-Dad, hey… Uh, it’s (Y/N)... U-Um… I-I’m not having a good day today, and I know you’re probably hella busy, but I just… I really need to talk to you today. So, please call back as soon as you get this. Please. I-I love you.” And with a shaky breath, I hung up. Three soft knocks averted my attention to the door, where Jacob had just entered.

“Hey, Bug…”

“H-Hey…”

“Do you… maybe wanna watch some movies with me? Your pick.”

“That sounds really great, Jake, but not tonight. I’m just, uh… wanting to be alone.”

“I get it. Totally get it,” He nodded and backed out of my bedroom. “Just know that if you change your mind, I’m down the hall and very willing to drop everything.”

I only nodded as he closed the door. I hadn’t trusted myself enough to spend dinner with the family, so I laid in bed and tried my best to fall asleep. But it wouldn’t come. I was too occupied by my thoughts, too alert. It was honestly stressing me out to the point that I ironically began falling asleep once the sky faded into night. Just as my eyes drooped, I heard a soft tap on my window. I wanted to ignore it but it happened again. And again. And again until I heard a tap that could’ve cracked the window. Jumping up from my bed, I rushed over to find Stan. He had one hand full of small rocks, the other ready to launch. Of course, he stopped upon seeing my form at the window. He dropped the rocks and waved with both his hands. Softly chuckling, I slid my window up. “What?”

“Wanna go for a drive?” He loudly whispered.

“Hell yes.”

I didn’t realize how much I missed Stan until we were on that drive. With his windows down, soft rock music gracing our ears and the wind blowing in our hair, I was brought back to the summer. When we’d spend the day in this car, cruising around Brownsville. We had not a care in the world. We lived in bliss, only with each other for company. Selfish with each other’s time. I had him all to myself those days. As I looked over at him in that moment, I couldn’t help but grin. The curls on his forehead were now leaning with the wind as his fingers tapped to the beat of the song on the steering wheel. He looked so pretty like this, the moonlight kissing his pale skin just right. He was so beautiful and he didn’t even know it. He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “W-What?”

“Nothing, just… I’m happy to be here.”

Later on, we parked in the middle of an empty grocery store parking lot. Reclining the seats all the way back, we let our legs drape outside the car window. In that moment, everything felt perfect. The sweet melody of Vanilla Skin rang throughout my ears as the sound of Stan’s lighter flicking accompanied the night critters’ chirping. This was everything I needed. Bloodwitch, a joint, and Stan by my side. It took us only twenty minutes for our highs to kick in, but this time, it was different. We weren’t stupidly laughing. It was comfortably quiet between us. I suppose we both had our own battles we were fighting that day because at the same time, we both inhaled deeply and soundly exhaled.

“Stan, why isn’t every guy like you?” I quietly asked. He looked over at me with furrowed brows.

“Huh?”

“I mean, why can’t they just be patient? And considerate? And just naturally sweet people? Why can’t they do something for a girl without wanting something else in return…?”

“Why can’t every girl be like you?” He sighed as I reached my arm in the air, fingers grazing the top of his car. “Why can’t they understand that I’m here to help?” He reached his hand up towards mine. “That I wanna help?” Our fingertips touched. “That I love helping?” And our fingers interlocked. Slowly, our joined hands rested in between our bodies, our heads simultaneously turning to each other.

“I don’t know… maybe we’re not meant to meet other people like ourselves…”

His mouth quirked up in a hesitant smile before he leaned closer. I met him in the middle in yet another kiss. I knew that after, we wouldn’t speak of this. We’d reset and go back to normal so that Stan could keep trying with Sydney. I knew he wasn’t mine, that I wasn’t his. But-

Just let me have this.

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @juliet-doesnt-give-a-fuck @moatsnow

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #ianowt x reader #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

92 notes · View notes

cloverque · 3 years

Text

departure (haiba lev)

出发 (灰羽リエーフ)

a departure doesn’t always guarantee a return

4128 words

post time skip! model lev, fiances, angst, concept of waiting, alt ending (w/ closure)

a (reuploaded) req for a certain lev lover <3

Haiba Lev wasn’t the most level headed person. He was blunt, foolish, assertive, and sometimes, a simpleton. And yet, despite his innumerable flaws, you loved him.

You adored the discordant, entwined, looping threads that made up for who he was, his strengths and weaknesses, every fibre of his being. Furthermore, your love was unyielding; a delicate yet persistent wild flower, sprung from the cracks in concrete.

Your love for the male stemmed from your starting days in high school. It was a random encounter, in which he bumped into you in a hallway, and then somehow, you began fawning over the half Russian.

Inconspicuously, you would watch him from afar: walking by the gym to sneak glances, matching up your schedule with the volleyball club’s, just to catch glimpses of him during their laps around the school.

You were fascinated with the long limbed teen’s energy and presence on the court. He was handsome too, his facial and body structure flawlessly sculpted by God himself to be the epitome of masculinity.

Your puppy love and admiration for him motivated you to travel far and wide to watch his volleyball matches, with hopes that maybe one day, Lev would notice you.

Lev wasn’t the brightest with a few things, with consciousness of his surroundings topping his list. Your encounter with him had slipped his mind, since it meant only so little, and he never realised you were in the same cohort, for pete’s sake.

If it weren’t for Kenma, who had pointed you out among the spectators, he wouldn’t have realised you always watched their matches. So he decided to approach you after one, and asked if you were from Nekoma High. You were momentarily stunned, then gave him a radiant smile, one so bright he would never forget.

After that, the two of you hit it off effortlessly. Within a few months, your freshly sprouted friendship with Lev blossomed into something more. Years passed, both of you graduated, and the two of you were still going strong, happily dating. The now esteemed model and you even began contemplating on a larger milestone, one which would change both of your lives forever.

That is, until Lev received an ominous phone call that presaged the end of your current chapter.

It happened too quickly to say for sure what was going on. He had told you the night before, as he held you in his arms, that he would be gone for a while. That he needed to attend to some personal matters back at home.

Lev’s tone was a little too quiet when he broke the news. “I… gotta leave for a while, (y/n).“ He was holding you close, arms draped around your waist and legs tangled with yours.

You stopped circling your finger around his bicep to glance up at him. Studying the distant look in his green orbs, you raised your brows. “Okay, where to?”

“Russia. My grandma wants me to return immediately.” Lev’s attention shifted from the ceiling to your curious gaze. His warm, minty breath fanned your face as he exhaled. “I think I’ll take a while.”

“Oh…” You rest your cheek on his chest, lashes fluttering close as you murmured. “I’ll miss you, but I can wait. Just don’t keep me waiting for long, alright?”

“Mhmm, okay.” Smiling tenderly, Lev peppered your skin with kisses, making you giggle. You slowly opened your eyes to take in the way the moonlight from the balcony glossed over his flawless, pale skin.

Lev’s fingers hovered over the silver band on your ring finger, lingering there before taking your hand in his. His own matching ring clinked against yours softly when you laced your fingers with his, your warm palms heating up his cold ones as you dozed off, flushed against his chest.

When morning came, he was gone. You had failed to bid him goodbye as Lev‘s egression was committed silently. The days passed like any other, and you would text him once in a while to check up on him. However, you never received a response. Not on SMS. Not on social media. Nowhere.

Days trickled to weeks, months, and by the third one, you were too overwhelmed with paranoia. After deep recollection, you realised he never told you when he would return. Surely, his departure meant a return, right?

You had asked the Nekoma volleyball club alumni and his friends of his whereabouts, and they all told you the same thing: they didn’t know. Desperate, you attempted to contact his sister Alisa, but to no avail. Both Haiba siblings were uncontactable, and the calls always went to voicemail.

Over the days, your fear and anxiety manifested into dark rings, rimming your puffy eyelids. Life went on whilst your heart and mind ran rampant, and eventually, you stopped appearing at work.

Not a day went by without you thinking of him. Your fiancé plagued your mind and heart 24/7, and it was impossible to stop thinking about him.

Where is he? When will he return? What’s taking him so long? Why is he not home yet? Has he forgotten about me?

Did Lev forget that I’m still waiting for him?

…

The front door to your shared apartment creaked slowly, and a raven haired man in a dark suit shuffled in. He closed the door slowly, his pupils dilating to compensate for the lack of light entering the apartment. The once bright green plants lining the balcony were drooping in their eternal shade, signifying that the curtain had not been drawn in days.

The man slipped off his shoes and socks, taking notice of the unworn, white slippers by the front door, then shuffled in. You glanced up from the blankets when you heard the soft padding of feet.

Your heart threatened to leap out of your chest as your eyes grew wide with anticipation. “Lev?” You croaked, hauling yourself to a sitting position. “Is that you?”

The door slowly creaked open to reveal your colleague and good friend, Kuroo Tetsurō. Your smile faded away, and your lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sorry I’m not who you think I am.” The male stood by the now open doorway, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

Ever since you stopped showing up at work, Kuroo would check up on you every weekend, and sometimes the posse would tag along too. The ex-captain had your apartment’s spare key, thanks to Lev, who randomly picked the holder during your home warming party.

You glanced down at the crumpled bed sheets as he walked into the dusty bedroom. Kuroo drew open the curtains leisurely, filling the room with a dim, blue light whilst multi coloured lights from the skyscrapers across the balcony twinkled with animosity. Specks of dust scattered in the air, latching onto the nearby furniture while some drifted aimlessly. The end of the bed dipped as he sat down, and you looked up to find him scrutinising you with a furrowed frown.

“Have you been eating well?” His eyes trailed over your sunken cheeks and jaundiced skin. Your face was devoid of your usual, radiant glow.

You glanced away from his piercing amber eyes. The eyes in the photos atop the nightstand bore holes into your soul as you rasped, “Why are you here? If it’s about work, I already told you that I asked my section manager to let me work from home–“

“(y/n), that’s not why I’m here.” Kuroo interrupted with a huff. Cloth rustled as he fished his phone out of his jacket’s inner pocket. With a few soft taps, he turned to you, and showed you his screen. You squinted your eyes and unconsciously leaned closer to read the blurry, digital print.

“SUPERMODELS HAIBA LEV AND RUSSIAN ACTRESS KHRISTINA SNOW POTTED LEAVING LUXURIOUS HOTEL TOGETHER“

Your eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets as you absorbed the image below the title. It was indeed your fiancé, you could recognise his broad shoulders and otherworldly jawline a mile away.

Dressed in a crisp suit, Lev’s arm was linked with a dainty woman, whose diamond necklace scintillated under the harsh glare of camera lights. The pencil skirt clinging to her wide hips had a scandalously long slit that stopped at her upper thigh, exposing her red lacey panties by a hair length.

Both of them had sunglasses on, but only the woman had a gleeful expression, while Lev’s lips were pressed together tightly. Just like the title had stated, they seemed to be walking away from an edifice constructed of solely glass panels, and you instantly recognised it. It was a renowned, five star hotel. In Japan.

You were too stunned to say anything. Even your mind, which had been incessantly filled with nothing but your lover, was now blank. The information overload was overwhelming.

This is all too much.

Suddenly, Kuroo withdrew his phone, pulling you back to reality with it. “So, I’m guessing you didn’t know?” He raised a dark brow as he pocketed his electronic device. “The article’s from some lowly paparazzi, so I doubt anything’s true… But it’s blowing up on Twitter.”

Your eyes flickered from your trembling hands to the bed sheets as you began quietly. “I… I thought he left for Russia…” Gripping the covers on your lap, your eyes silently brimmed with tears as you continued shakily, “I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I’m so confused…”

Kuroo‘s gaze never left you as you began shaking uncontrollably. He knew that you were desperately fighting back your tears. It was something you did often back in high school: you would try not to cry in front of the team when they won a match, despite your voice breaks and your glassy eyes. It was something the boys found endearing, especially Lev.

The raventte cursed inwardly at his junior’s stupidity. How could he make such a lovely girl like you cry? Wordlessly, the male shifted closer and pulled you into his chest, surprising you but you didn’t retreat.

Kuroo’s gesture was nothing but friendly, after all. He patted your back reassuringly, and your bottom lip trembled as you clung onto his shirt.

Pitter patter.

Your tears fell like torrents, gushing endlessly as you buried your face into his chest. Gripping tightly onto his dress shirt, you cried into the fabric, wailing the pent up emotions you had kept at bay the past few months. You wept like tomorrow would never come.

…

A few days had passed and you finally decided to confront Lev. Seeing how he wouldn’t respond to your messengers, you decided to hunt him down and talk to him face to face. It was easy to track him down, thanks to the ‘lowly paparazzi’ website, which constantly updated his whereabouts. For once, you were grateful for his overbearing fans.

To be fair, you felt a little bad about his own privacy, but you were also too engulfed in a mixture of confusion, jealousy and infuriation to sympathise with him.

You had everything planned out, what to say and retort, and you had to remind yourself that as much as he deserved to be heard out, you also had a right to be upset with him. Especially after the emotional and mental torment he intentionally (or unintentionally) subjected you to.

But it was impossible to deny that you had hoped that he had a good explanation for everything. You prayed fervently that he would return to your arms, like he always did. Memories of past, better days solely stabilised you during this emotional period.

When the weekend arrived, you threw on a your coat and hopped into your car and drove off. Apparently, Lev and Khristina, were dining at a high class café, located in the fancier suburbs of Tokyo. When you reached there, you parked your car by the sidewalk and sauntered in, ignoring the valet who glanced at you then at your vehicle.

Honestly, you never thought you would see the day when you would resort to stalking your fiancé, just to have a talk with him. But this was no ordinary talk, and the half blood knew when he saw you walk into the café.

You were fuming, brows scrunched up with the angriest expression he had ever seen in his life. Lev jumped up in his seat, like he had seen the ghost of Christmas past, and quickly excused himself.

As he shuffled towards the entrance, he met you halfway and tugged you outside by the wrist. His strides were quick, and he hissed when you dug your fingernails into his hand in defiance.

“Let me go!” You snapped fiercely, like a tigress baring its jaws at its adversary. He released you from his hold when he reached his destination: the back alleys of the shops.

The silver haired man didn’t back away. He was looking at you with shock, hurt and something else. Was it fear, nervousness? You couldn’t tell. You were too frustrated with him.

“(y/n)… I can explain–“ He began, a hand outstretched but you cut him off.

“I told you I‘d wait, didn’t I?” You glared up at him with narrowed eyes. His aghast expression wedged the knife deeper in your heart as you inhaled. “You… You said you had to leave. And I believed you! But four months passed and you didn’t bother to contact me. Not even once…”

Lev ran a hand through his now disheveled hair, which was pushed back until now. “Please, let me explain. I had my reasons, I swear.”

You realised the engagement ring on his finger was nowhere to be seen. Your lover opened his mouth to explain when you deadpanned.

“Where’s your ring?”

Lev’s eyes widened, from fright or concern, you weren’t sure. His usually bright, green orbs would he glowing with love whenever he gazed at you, but not today.

“(y/n), I–“

“Love, who’s that?” Came a sweet, enchanting voice at the start of the alley. It was Khathrina, a long legged lady with platinum blonde hair that cascaded down her back in voluminous waves.

She blinked her thick, wispy lashes at you curiously, and you clenched your jaw in retaliation. Glancing at Lev, you hoped that he would put her in her place. Anything along the lines of ‘she’s my girlfriend’ or ‘fiancé’ would have suffice, but no. It was a far fetched dream.

“No one, my dear.” Came Lev’s response, and he walked past you, bumping shoulders into you in the process. You gasped quietly when he cast you a cold, once over behind his broad shoulders.

He had looked at you as if the two of you had never met before. It burned a hole in your stomach, and you were too stunned to react. Frozen in your spot, your facade crumbled with every step he took, further away from you and to someone else.

When he reached the woman’s side, the duo linked arms and departed without another word.

…

You fumbled with your keys for the hundredth time. It took you a whole five minutes to enter your apartment, and when you did, you slammed the door shut behind you and slumped to the floor.

What on earth was that? How could he do that to me? How is that the same boy I fell in love with?

You had driven over to confront Lev, but in the end all you got was a deeper scar. Everything made no sense, and your mind throbbed with confusion and fatigue.

Everything became blurry as tears overwhelmed your vision, and you tugged at your shirt, at the thorn embedded in your heart. It was so close yet so far and out of reach. Drawing your knees to your chest, you cried your heart out once again.

Moments passed with you laying at the entrance, gazing at the unworn white slippers speckled with dust.

…

Like before, days spun into weeks, months, and even a year. Eventually, you deserted your shared apartment and rented a place, one far away from your previous home. You had only taken your clothes and necessities, leaving behind the photo frames and everything else as everything reminded you of him.

It would be a lie to claim that you didn’t miss him, but you had partially given up when the news stated that supermodels Lev and Khathrina were now married.

It made no sense, really. Perhaps this was all a bad dream, you reasoned, fiddling with the silver band around your ring. Maybe you were in a coma, and this was all a lengthy nightmare that you would soon wake up from.

Yes, when you wake up, your fiancé would be next to you, lying in bed, chest rising in steady rhythms whilst the morning sun shines on his handsome face. Haiba would turn around to greet you good morning through half lidded eyes, and he would tuck your hair behind your ears with a cheeky, yet gentle smile.

There’s no way any of this is real…! We’ve come so far, and he loves me more than anyone can imagine.

But as time passed, you began to realise that, perhaps Haiba Lev had departed long ago.

(ALT. END)　　　　　　　　

You fumbled with your keys for the hundredth time. It took you a whole five minutes to enter your apartment, and when you did, you slammed the door shut behind you and slumped to the floor.

What on earth was that? How could he do that to me? How is that the same boy I fell in love with back then?

You had driven over to confront Lev, but in the end all you got was a deeper scar. Everything made no sense, and your mind throbbed with confusion and fatigue.

Out of nowhere, your phone began vibrating.

Sniffling, you fished it out of your coat and accepted the call blindly. “H-Hello?” You stuttered, rubbing away your tears with the back of your hand.

“It’s me, (y/n).” The familiar warm, low voice of Lev’s filled the silent room. Your eyes grew wide in shock, and you glanced at the caller ID to realise it wasn’t his usual phone number. “I don’t have much time, I’ll be gone by tomorrow, love.”

“Tomorrow? What?” You parroted, albeit dumbly as you raked your foggy mind for clarity.

You could almost imagine the frown on your boyfriend’s face when he blabbered. “Are you crying? I mean, were you…?” His voice trailed off, and you quickly blurted out that you weren’t.

A soft chuckle graced your ears and you felt the frustration and sadness from before ebb away. Leaning against the door, you listened attentively as he directed you to a location where he had agreed to rendezvoused. No sooner had he ended the call did you fly out of the apartment.

When you reached the park, you realised it was already midnight. You waited by a willow tree he had mentioned to you, and within a few minutes, he showed up.

You had lost all your fight and gave in to temptation. Throwing your arms around Lev, you held him in a tight embrace as you buried your face into his neck. Grinning widely, the ‘skyscrapper’ wrapped his arms around your back and rest his head atop yours, humming softly.

“I missed you, (y/n).” He had whispered softly, as if he was afraid that you would disappear any moment. “I’m always thinking of you, your smile, your smell…”

Shamelessly, he pressed his face against your head and inhaled it greedily. You giggled at the warm air tickling your scalp then looked up at him with glossy, doe eyes. “I missed you too. More than you can imagine.”

“Hey, I’m here now,” and Lev’s smile began to fade as he set you down onto your feet. Taking your hand, he guided you to sit under the beautiful willow tree. “I promised I’d tell you everything, and I will.”

As the moon waned in the night sky, you listened intently as the silver haired man explained to you what had happened the past few months. He went into detail that he had received a call from his tragically ill grandmother, that she had requested for him and his sister to return to Russia to see them one last time.

And being the filial grandson he was, he accompanied Alisa back to Russia. But upon their arrival, he realised that she was perfectly fine! Her real motive was to introduce him to a fair maiden, whom she had taken a liking to, and so she did. The girl just so happened to be another model, and one of pure Russian descent.

Lev explained animatedly how upset the old lady was when he told her that he was already engaged.

Your lover raised his ring finger to show you his gleaming band, and you almost teared up at the sight. He continued with a sigh, shaking his head as he relayed that she wanted Lev to give the girl a chance.

And in the end, he was forced to be engaged to her temporarily, until the octogenarian passed on.

So for now, they were spending some time in Japan, as the girl was determined to sightsee with her short-term fiancé. But eventually they would return to Russia, so that they could spend time together with his grandma.

It was, without a doubt, a peculiar situation. But a huge burden had been lifted off your shoulders, now that you knew why they were involved for a while.

“At first I didn’t contact you because I was unsure of myself. What to say, and to think…” He took your hand in his, and raised his head, green orbs gleaming with guilt.

He was threading carefully, something he hardly did, and your heart swelled. “But then it slowly turned into something bigger than that, and I feared that you would leave me because of this mess.

“I know what I did was awful and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I hope you know how much I love you and that I think about you every single day.” Closing his eyes, he brought your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles tenderly. When he reopened them, he gave you a dejected, lopsided smile. “I always have.”

“Then why did you act like you didn’t know me earlier?” You dipped your head, sideways. “You know, in front of her?”

“I had to put on an act, just to please my granny… I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He squeezed your hand, “This is only temporary. Once it’s over, I’ll return to Japan as soon as possible.”

You swallowed the forming lump in your throat. He was about to depart again, the man you had loved for a decade.

“Promise me you’ll come back. Back to me.” Placing a hand atop his, you locked eyes with him, “Please.”

He brushed back the stray strands of hair to glimpse at your sparkling irises. Lev’s heart clenched at the eyebags under your beautiful orbs, and he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours.

“I promise.”

The willow branches hid two of you from the world as the two of you conversed for hours, catching up on everything that had happened. You spent the rest of the night holding each other in the secluded park, fingers entwined silently.

…

Lev departed for Russia once again when the sun rose. You had bidded him goodbye tearfully, knowing you wouldn’t be able to speak to him in, possibly, a very long time. Nevertheless, you believed in the promise the two of you had made, and that kept you going.

It was still a little sad to wake up every morning without him next to you. Sometimes, you would even mistake a morning zephyr for his breath against your skin. Watching your favourite drama series alone without his ignorant comments and boisterous laughter pained you with a smile. But despite the lonely moments, you pushed forward.

Haiba Lev wasn’t the most level headed person. He was blunt, foolish, assertive, and sometimes, a simpleton. And yet, despite his innumerable flaws, you loved him.

And you knew that one day, he would return. After all, his departure was not permanent.　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　fin.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #lev haiba #haiba lev #haikyuu lev x reader #haikyuu lev x y/n #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #🍡.lev #i dont dare to reread this jssjs

67 notes · View notes

darling-dummy-blogs · 3 years

Text

A Broken Promise- Victor Li

Summary: It's the day Cassandra has been waiting for her entire life. Her and Victor's wedding day. However.. Victor doesn't show up to the wedding…

Paring: Victor Li X OC (Mentions of Victor Li x F!MC [Mia])

Genre: Angst, Fluffy Ending (And a bit of an Angst Ending as well..)

Warnings: None!

Fandom: Mr. Love Queen’s Choice

Word Count: 4k

Notes: In spirit of the re-run of the wedding event in MLQC I had written this piece a while back with the help of my dear friend @silv3rrin! (Thank you so much for your help with this!) This had also been written on the idea of my own experience of the wedding event haha (so enjoy my pain lol.) Based off the prompt below:

“Don’t promise me you won’t leave. Just don’t leave. I don’t think I can handle another promise right now.”

The day had finally come. One that Cassandra had looked forward to since the day she got engaged to Victor.

Their wedding day. Her excitement and nervousness really got to her, making her feel extra bouncy and happy. The moment she woke up, she didn’t get to see her soon to be husband.

He had to do a few things at work so he had come in quite early in the morning to prepare for that.

Victor had left her some breakfast and the schedule for today. He had even let her know that he would be back at least an hour or two before the wedding to get himself ready.

Although just because Victor had to work, that didn’t mean she could slack off, she had to prepare and get herself ready for the wedding. Which luckily started later on in the afternoon. She did her usual morning routine.

She had to prepare herself for the arrival of her hairdresser and makeup artist. Once they had finished with her hair and makeup: Her hair had been curled and styled into an elegant bun, small strands of hair on the sides of her face along with her bangs, overall she loved how her hair had been styled.

She now has to get herself dressed. Her dress was stunning, it was off the shoulder, laced and fitted to her body, which showed off her curves in the best way, while at the bottom it had flowed out beautifully.

She loved how the dress had looked on her and with her hair and makeup done, it felt as though the dress complimented and completed her look. Now all she needed to do was to head to the church to make sure things were running smoothly.

When she got there, she could not believe how beautiful the scenery was.

Everything had been set to perfection. From the church that was beautifully decorated to their wedding reception.

Of course there was no limit to it, given Victor being the wealthy man he was. However he had wanted the day to go smoothly, and for it to be perfect just for her.

As the time grew closer to her getting married, she grew more and more nervous. But she tried to stay as calm as possible.

Only 2 more hours…

While the nervous bride had been trying to calm her oncoming nerves, Victor had been at LFG, finalizing a few things before leaving to prepare for the wedding.

However a sudden knock on his door had interrupted his train of focus, he looked towards the door, confused. Nobody would be bothering him considering he was leaving relatively soon for his own wedding. “Come in.” he called out.

The door opened, revealing Mia, who he was slightly surprised to see. Yet he kept his usual stoic expression

She smiled softly at him, "Hey Victor!"

“Mia, what are you doing here?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“Ah well.. I should be asking you that! Don’t you have a wedding to prepare for?” She walked over to his desk after shutting the door.

“Yes I do, I was just finishing up. But why are you here exactly? We don't have a meeting today and shouldn’t you get yourself prepared to come to the wedding?”

Of course, he had invited Mia to his wedding, even though he used to have feelings for her, they were still friends and Victor was still her boss. It was only polite of him to do so.

Mia had been more than happy to come, however, one of the main reasons as to why she came was because of the fact that she wanted to see him on his big day.

Her expression changed from happiness to one of nervousness. “W-well.. I came here to tell you something actually..”

He raised an eyebrow, his attention focused on her, “What is it..?” He hesitantly asked.

She gulped, taking a deep breath, “I know this isn’t ideal timing nor is it something I should be doing right now, on the day of yours and Cassie’s wedding but…” She took a pause, “I’ve been thinking about this for such a long time and it was bothering me to the point where I have to tell you.”

“..Go on…” He pressed, awaiting her answer.

A moment of silence had passed before she said, “I’m in love with you.”

His breath hitched in his throat. The words he wished to have heard a few years ago suddenly came out of her mouth.

“Why are you telling me this now?!” Victor’s voice boomed.

“...I-I don’t know.. I only just figured it out myself and.. I just wanted to tell you this. I know it's too late and I know you are with Cassie now but..” She looked down, growing quiet.

“I would never want to get in between you two because I care for both of you but you deserve to know how I feel.” She spoke firmly, as she looked at him, “I’m sorry...” She spoke with sincerity

“You saying this to me now is getting in between the both of us!” his voice was cold. “What do you gain from telling me now? Satisfaction that you could possibly ruin our relationship?”

“No! I don’t….I-I just... “ She balled up her hands into fists, stumbling on her words, “I just needed to tell you, if I didn’t then it would continue to eat at me for god knows how long..” A pause, her heart was pounding loudly within her chest, “I’m not trying to gain anything from it. Nor would I be trying to, I just had to tell you. You don’t have to respond or reciprocate my feelings.”

“If… if you told me earlier, then maybe, just maybe we could have been together instead… but it’s too late now.”

She didn’t know what else to say, she knew that there was no possible way that he would reciprocate her feelings now that he was marrying someone else. If only she could go back and realize earlier. “...I should have known sooner..” Tears welled up in her eyes

“I have tried to make it obvious though..” She muttered, tears sliding down her face. “But I guess since you were with her, you never noticed.” She sighed, wiping away her tears, as she shook her head.

“I shouldn’t have done this…” She couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m sorry.. I shouldn’t have mentioned it..”

“You realized that now?”

“I really am an idiot for doing this..” Mia muttered, the doubt that she felt suddenly kicked in, she finally looked him in the eye, “I’m sorry… I am so sorry.. For doing this.. I-it was stupid and.. I shouldn’t even go to the wedding.. I ruined it..” She sniffled.

A part of Victor felt conflicted, he didn’t really know what else to do, and he didn’t like to see Mia like this, he let out a sigh, “Mia.. It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize.”

A moment of silence passed, “...I’m sorry.” Victor suddenly said, in a slightly gentle tone. Mia looked at him, shocked, however he continued, a look of sorrow had covered his features. “I’m sorry that I didn’t realize at the time, that you had feelings for me.”

“However, I don’t think you’ve realized that, before I met Cassie, I had feelings for you. And I was very obvious about it. Yet you didn’t notice.”

Mia’s eyes widened, she didn’t seem to realize that he had been in love with her before. How could she have known? She never took into consideration that he had even remotely liked her in such a way. After all, he was her boss.

“I never knew…” She trailed off.

‘And that’s not your fault. I should have been more clear at the time, but I wasn’t. That was my mistake.” He spoke earnestly, as he gazed at her.

“I’m so sorry again Victor.” She spoke up. “You don’t have to apologize, but I am sorry that I just don’t feel the same way anymore.”

“I understand.” She spoke, slightly dejected but she knew that there was no going back now. She has to move on.

Mia glanced at the time, her eyes widening, “U-Um..Victor… Y-Your wedding is going to start soon, shouldn’t you be leaving??”

Victor looked at the time. His eyes widening as he abruptly stood up, “Oh no..” He checked his phone, seeing several missed calls from Cassandra and many angry and anxious messages from her. How did his phone not go off?!

He grabbed his belongings as he rushed out the office.

He was in so much trouble now...

‘The wedding is going to start soon... why isn’t Victor here?’ Cassie thought to herself, she tried calling him and messaging him but she wasn’t getting any replies. Which stressed and worried her very much.

She was pacing back and forth in the hall of the church, still trying to call him. “Is his phone off or something???” She was growing frustrated and was getting anxious, suddenly her thoughts were getting to her.

‘What if he doesn’t want to marry me all of a sudden?’ She gulped, shaking her head as she tried to keep those kinds of thoughts from taking over her mind.

‘No, that’s just silly, he wouldn’t do that to me, he said that he would never hurt me like that..’ She thought to herself as she tried once again to get a hold of him. However to no avail, it would go straight to voicemail.

Her pacing didn’t slow down, it got to the point where her feet began to hurt due to her wearing heels. ‘For someone who doesn’t enjoy being late OR wasting time, he is very much late! To his own wedding especially.’ She groaned, as she peaked her head into the church where all their friends and family had sat, idly chatting with one another, waiting for the bride or groom to show up.

She looked at all the bridesmaids and groomsmen who had been standing at the end, and glanced over the spot where Victor would be standing, had he been there.

She whimpered quietly, ‘Come on Victor.. Where are you...’ She shut the door, the panic never really settling with her. It only seemed to continue to grow more and more as more time had passed. She was barely managing after the first few times she tried to reach him.

50 minutes. No Victor

40 minutes. Still no sign of Victor, she tried calling him yet again, no response.

30 minutes. Cassie kept checking the clock, still not a trace of Victor to be seen

20 minutes. She trembled, the anxiety building up again, she was beginning to feel as though he will never show up.

10 minutes. Tears appeared in her eyes, as she tried to not let them out, she couldn’t risk ruining her make-up now. He wasn’t coming. That was clear.

...2 hours late… She slowly opened the door, tears in her eyes as she slowly made her way to the front of the aisle, everyone gazed at her, worried and saddened as she kept her head low. Once she made her way to the front, she looked out at everyone, giving them her best yet weakest smile.

“..The wedding is cancelled. I am so sorry.. You all may go home.” She spoke, her voice wavering as she felt a sudden pang in her heart, which had split into two.

She watched as everyone got up, they felt sympathetic for her, wishing her better before saying their goodbyes. She was soon left alone, her whole body shook as she quietly stood there, the only sounds of her ragged breathing could be heard before she let out a loud sob and scream.

Which echoed throughout the entire church. She sat down on the edge of the step by the wedding arch. Sobbing as she gazed down at the engagement ring on her finger. The white diamond shone brightly in the church.

Cassandra then looked over at the rings that laid tied gently on a plush white pillow which was placed on a pillar next to the arch. She leaned forward, grabbing it and yanking off both the rings, staring at both of them, sniffling, her hands shaking as she couldn’t calm down her nerves.

Suddenly the door to the church had opened and in came a very panicked Victor. He looked around frantically, seeing that the church was empty, and had spotted Cassandra, sitting at the end by herself. His heart panged with guilt.

As she looked up, they made eye contact, tears staining her face as she glared at him. Pure anger and hurt evident on her face as she stood up, clenching both the wedding rings in her hands. Her hands balled up into tight fists.

Victor quickly walked over to her although halted as she suddenly spoke up, anger in her voice, “Don’t come anywhere near me.” She spat, her voice wavering with hurt.

“Cassie..” he spoke, his voice laced with despair.

“I can’t believe you.” She spoke, ignoring his sudden plea of her name, “You.. are 2 hours late, Victor. 2 HOURS!” She cried out. “You left me WAITING here for you! I have never felt so hurt and so embarrassed to have to come up here to both our friends and family BY MYSELF and CANCEL our wedding.”

“I-I’m sorry..” He spoke up again, he tried moving closer to her but she stepped back, shaking her head, she let out a bitter laugh, “You know.. You always say to never be late to anything and to not waste your time.. But yet, you were the one who was late.”

“I just got caught up with things,” he reasoned.

“Things that are more important than our wedding?!” she screamed. “Something we’ve been planning for months? You chose something trivial over our wedding?!”

“It was not trivial,” Victor defended Mia without a second thought.

"Oh? Well then tell me, WHAT exactly was it then?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I… I was talking with… with someone and I got caught up.”

"Who is this 'someone' Victor?" She inquired, impatiently

He let out a sigh, knowing what would come once he uttered that name but he couldn’t avoid it. “I was talking… with Mia…”

A moment of silence. She stared at him, unable to say anything. She knew of their history, she knew of his feelings for her.

Cassie didn't have anything against Mia. However, that didn't change the fact that she had fears and insecurities of Victor leaving her for Mia.

"...Alright." Was all she uttered. She looked down at the wedding rings in her right hand, she sniffled.

The only feeling she could feel was the numbing pain in her heart. Tears slid down her face even more, her makeup completely ruined.

She cleared her throat, "What exactly did you talk about with her?"

His lip tightened. He didn’t want to disclose anything to her, know that it would just continue to ruin what they have… well now it seems more like ‘had'.

“She… she needed to tell me something before our wedding… for some closure I suppose,” he tried to beat around the bush, hoping she wouldn’t push it any further.

"Victor… I am not an idiot, cut the crap and tell me the damn truth! I deserve to know after all that has happened today!" She screamed at him, glaring.

Guilt rose up in him. “It was her confessing to me that… she… loves me…” he didn’t want to say it but pushed himself to utter those words.

"..." Her eyes darkened, those words echoing throughout her head, she could faintly hear the cracking of her heart which went from being split into two, to shattering into itty bitty pieces.

"..What did you tell her?" She spat out, her voice void of any emotion.

“I… I asked her why… and if- if she had told me earlier… then maybe… we- we could have been…” he trailed off, afraid to hurt her further.

Just as he had said that, the door to the church had opened. Both Cassie and Victor looked over, seeing Mia walk in.

If this was a nightmare, Cassandra would definitely want to be awake now.

Cassie’s breathing pace quickened as she began shaking again. She wanted to let out a scream but she couldn't seem to move or let out a sound, she was silent.

Mia, locked eyes with both of them. She immediately made her way over to them. “H-hey guys..”

Cassie clenched her fists, she gave her a hard glare. She was the last person that Cassie had wanted to come into contact with. “What do you want?” She spat out, anger evident in her voice.

Victor tensed at her tone, ready to intervene.

Mia gulped, already knowing that Cassie did not want to see her. “I-I just came here.. To apologize. Specifically to you, Cassie.” She stepped closer but Cassandra didn’t move, nor did she want to hear what she had to tell her.

“Sorry, isn’t going to change the fact that because of your conversation with Victor, you made him late to our wedding.” She spoke in such a cold tone. One that she never uses, unless she was very much pissed off.

And in this case, she was.

Mia shrunk at the coldness of her words. She looked down fiddling with her fingers. “I-I know… I know I cannot change what I have done.. B-But you deserve to know that I am sorry. I didn’t mean for my feelings to take over and to make Victor late.. I-It’s just that… He needed to know how I felt about him before..-”

“Before what?” She spat out, anger only growing within her.

Mia looked up at them, looking at Cassie’s angered expression, then to Victor’s. She kept her gaze on him, as she spoke out these words:

“Before it was too late.”

“It was already too late when we got engaged.”

“Don’t invalidate her feelings, Cassandra. She wasn’t sure at the time until now,” Victor finally spoke, trying to diffuse the situation.

Cassie looked at Victor, a laugh escaped her, “You are already on thin ice, and you are defending her right now?!” She glared, there was no way that she would calm down.

Victor faced Mia before speaking. “Wait outside, We’ll talk later.”

Mia nodded, as she quickly turned onto her heel and left the church, leaving the two of them alone once again.

Cassandra watched her leave, her arms crossed over her chest. She then turned to Victor. “So. Care to explain what that was about?”

“I don’t want to deal with anymore fighting, and I don’t want to drag anyone else in our problem.”

“Kind of hard to do that when she caused this problem, Victor.”

She looked at him, staring into his eyes. Finally after a rather dreadful silence she asked a simple question:

"...Do you still have feelings for her?"

“I…” he hesitated. “I don’t… not anymore...”

"Why did you hesitate?"

Victor kept quiet. Even he didn’t know why he hesitated when the answer was so obvious. “SHE was the reason why you were late.”

“Maybe it’s because I don’t want to be married to you! Maybe it’s because Mia makes me happier than what you’ve done, these past years!” Victor snapped.

Cassie staggered back slightly from that. Her eyes watering as new tears began trailing down her face. Her heart now throbbed in aching pain at his words which only added salt to the wound.

Sudden anger welled up within her as she dropped the two wedding rings that were in her right hand to the floor as her hand made an impact with Victor’s face.

SMACK! Right across the face. The sound echoing across the grand hall loudly.

She let out a sob as she spoke, “How dare you?! IF YOU FELT THAT WAY, WHY DID YOU ASK ME TO MARRY YOU?! WHY DID YOU KEEP ME IN YOUR LIFE?! WHY BOTHER LOVING ME WHEN SHE MAKES YOU HAPPIER THAN I CAN?!” She screamed at him, her whole body growing numb with pain and sadness.

“Are you just toying with my feelings now?! Do you even love me!? DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT ME?! OR WAS EVERYTHING THAT WE HAVE GONE THROUGH TOGETHER A LIE!?” She sobbed, her heart unable to handle the unbearable pain. She let out a scream of pain.

She looked down, wrapping her arms around herself, she couldn’t even look him in the eyes, "Y-You told me…” Her voice ached as she swallowed, “You don't have feelings for her anymore the first time when we were dating. But I cannot help but wonder… Was that a lie too?"

Victor’s eyes widened in disbelief. There was a dull throb on his cheek as he brought his hand to it. The pain snapped him back to reality as he finally registered the unfiltered words that came out of his mouth.

“No, wait! I don’t mean anything I said just now! I promise that I don’t love her anymore! I love you! It’s always been you ever since! I promise I won’t leave! I don’t want to lose you… I can’t lose you…”

She shook her head, "..Don’t promise me you won’t leave. Just don’t leave. I don’t think I can handle another promise right now.”

“I- Then I won’t… but for now… just know that I won’t leave you again. I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

She wiped away her tears, as she looked at him, "I don’t know Victor, I really don’t know trust you again… It's going to take a while to fully forgive you for this… What you said, r-really hurt..."

"I know. I know that I messed up and it’s not easily reversible.... You shouldn't have to forgive me for what I've done." His voice filled with sorrow.

"I regret doing this to you. You don't deserve to be treated this way… Not when all you’ve been is understanding and loving. " Victor took a step forward, gently taking her hand, the one that held her engagement ring. He gazed at that ring for a long moment.

"There is one thing that I don't regret though.." His thumb swiped over the ring gently. The shimmering gem glistening back at him. "I don't regret proposing to you, nor do I regret loving you." His voice came out softer, as he looked at her.

Cassie didn't flinch. She watched his actions, sniffling lightly, she was met with a soft and loving gaze. One that he had always given her.

Victor continued, "Cassie, Everything I've ever told you is all genuine, I love you and only you. That will never change. No matter where you are, or whatever timeline we’re in, I will always find you." He brought his other hand to her cheek, wiping away stray tears that still shed from her eyes.

"I know words cannot make up for what I did, but I will show you that I am sorry. I didn't mean to ruin this day for the both of us." He frowned.

"I may have had a history with Mia, but you are my future. And you are the only person I can see myself spending my life with."

Cassandra was at a loss for words. He always knew how to make her feel soft and warm, with just words alone.

She felt more tears well up in her eyes, however they were less of sad tears and more of happy tears. She couldn't hide the big smile on her face.

Victor smiled upon seeing her beautiful smile, he loved seeing her happy. She looked beautiful whenever there was a smile on her face.

Although in this moment, she looked even more beautiful.

“You’ve made it really hard to stay upset at you.” She let out a giggle as blush dusted her cheeks lightly.

He chuckled slightly, “Dummy… You are just very easy to please.”

“Just shut up and let me kiss you.” She shook her head, as she moved to wrap her arms around his neck.

He shook his head, smiling as he leaned in, still cupping her cheeks in his hands, placing a loving kiss to her lips. One that she reciprocated happily.

---

He slowly approached Mia as he called out to her. She quickly turned before letting out a small, regretful smile.

“Mia, I don’t hold any feelings for you anymore. I wish for you to respect that. I want us to keep a professional relationship as boss and employee in the future,” he spoke in his typical stern and unapproachable tone.

Mia’s smile dropped for a second before another bigger but faker smile rested on her lips. “Of course Mr Li. I apologize for stepping out of line.”

Victor gave a quick nod before returning back to Cassie, leaving a broken Mia behind. Tears welled up in her eyes, as her body collapsed to the ground, knees and legs unable to keep her up.

She quietly sobbed as she watched him walk towards the love of his life before picking her up in his arms, his eyes filled with adoration and pure happiness. ~ (Lowkey remembering how we wrote this ending and Rin was just adding more angst even though it is initially supposed to have a happy ending. That was a fun time for both of us XD)

#mlqc #mlqc fluff #mlqc angst #mlqc fanfic #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #victor mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice

52 notes · View notes

bandaigaeru · 3 years

Text

gravitational pull - seo changbin

→genre: brief fake dating, childhood friends to weird enemies to fake lovers to real lovers →synopsis: he was a glimmering star of hope until he exploded, suspending your relationship into a seesawing gravity. →pairing: changbin x gender neutral reader →word count: 8.1k →warnings: hyunjins kinda mean at one point, mentions of alcohol

Mulch crunches beneath the adolescent shoes of your classmates. One intention is shared, in this playground warfare, and it’s to get a swing.

You disregard the heap rushing towards the ones closest, for your gaze is set on the far end of the swingset. And it is just within your reach. Your eyes narrow as you outstretch a palm, prepared to feel the coolness of the rusty chain.

The chain sways away from you beneath the harsh touch of another boy.

You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth fallen agape.

He smiles, the plastic seat dipping beneath his weight. “This one’s mine.”

A small shake in your tone as you return, “I was here first.”

“So? Everyone knows this is my swing.”

You slowly nod, taking small footsteps backwards. Hwang Hyunjin is bigger than you. And more accustomed with goons of friends. There’s no point in fighting.

Though as you start for the abandoned monkey bars (their vibrant red paint chipped to a sad haze) with blurry vision faulting your path, a voice booms over the rush between your ears.

You glance in the direction. A short boy sits in a stationary swing, smiling as though it is all he’s ever known. He waves you over.

Taking all of the precautions, you glance over your shoulder to make sure he’s talking to you. When you confirm, you drag your feet along the mulch.

You flinch when he stands, bringing guarding forearms to protect your face. The blow never comes.

“You can take my swing,” he says. You peek at him through your shield. His puffy cheeks are still indented with the smile. And his hands, not balled into a fist, lay calmly at his side.

You blink, slowly lowering your defense. “W-Why?”

He laughs, “That’s what friends are for. Duh.”

The laugh that trembles over your lips is shaky and foreign. You reach for the chain.

“I’ll push you!” he declares, rushing behind you as you steady yourself in the small seat.

He pulls you from the ground, the tips of your shoes trailing back amber woodchips.

The tip of your nose kisses the blue sky. Though, inevitably, the time comes when you must fall back to the earth. Steady hands push against your back, returning you to freedom. You find yourself grinning each time.

The next day, Changbin saves you the swing beside him. He waits until you are ready before kicking off on the ground. You swing in sync, sharing a few glances under the sun’s hugging rays.

It only takes a week before he’s begging his mother to arrange a playdate. And to your luck, he follows through with the promises, meeting you at your doorstep that Saturday. He guides you a block over to his house. He must be a good kid if his mother entrusted him with such a task, bringing two first-graders over. One returning home and one in need of a home away from home.

His mother is extremely nice, smiling at you each time you catch her eyes. She sets a plate of fruit on the coffee table while you and Changbin battle over the next Spongebob episode. His sister comes out of her room, too, asking you whether you prefer Barbies or Matchbox.

Elementary school passes like this. Recess is spent with his presence, as is lunch and gym and any class freetime. On the off days that it rains, barring you inside the school, you play Mancala. It’s totally civil. Not once does Changbin storm off when he loses. He merely shrugs and offers to set up the next round.

So unusual, though each time you find yourself smiling.

After an emotional graduation party—emotional for the teachers and family, you mean—he hands you a small piece of paper.

“What’s this?” you curiously look at him. His tie has loosened since the ceremony and his hair is ruffled by his father’s hand.

“My phone number. I won’t be in town this summer, but I still wanna keep touch with you.”

You smile down at the small digits. Neatly, you fold the post-it before slipping it into your pocket. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into his touch as he wraps his arms around your waist. “I’m gonna miss you,” you announce, voice muffled by his shoulder.

“It’s only one summer,” he reassures. “Plus, I’ll bring you back something nice. A keychain or something.”

You laugh through the sting that stabs your body, nodding. One summer cannot mark the end of the world, you tell yourself as you watch his car drift over the hill leading into town.

ii.

On the first, dreaded, day of middle school, you scan the halls carefully. The new faces do not scare you as much as the lack of his does. Each call was sent to voicemail. And each time the dial sounded, you frantically returned the phone to the receiver. Maybe he had accidentally miswrote the number. Or maybe he was too busy to return your calls. Summer has that effect on people, you think, where you have so much fun you forget the things you used to do daily. Like a memory disorder.

You finally see him in the lunch line. A breath of fresh air invades your lungs as you rush over to him.

“Changbin! How was your summer? I called, but you never answered,” you grin, nudging his shoulder.

He does not shoot you a glance, nor does he send a glare. Instead, he keeps his eyes glued on his shoes. A sharp pain strikes your chest—that breath might have been poison.

You gently shove his shoulder again, forcing a shaky laugh as you continue, “Hello? Anyone in there?”

The boy in front of him spins on his heel. His eyes are cold, painful, as they meet yours. “Can’t you tell he doesn’t wanna talk to you?” Hyunjin scoffs. “Go somewhere else, dumbass.”

Hesitantly, you look to Changbin. Surely, he’ll defend you, right?

Right?

His eyes have traveled to the lunch menu, displayed on a TV in cheap font. Far away from this conversation.

You nod, looking back to Hyunjin. His abrasive eyes are still waiting for you, eagerly begging you to move on. “Sorry, then,” you murmur as you start for the bathroom that will become your haven.

Behind you, Hyunjin’s loud laugh taunts you. Hidden beneath it is a quieter one that stabs you in the chest. Something painful blurs your vision, twists your insides, and curls the corners of your lips as you try to fight it.

You were a fool to think he was different. Elementary promises should never be trusted.

Secondary school passes in dreary blinks. Watching Changbin run for class president. Bubbling in his name despite everything. Hearing Changbin got the lead role in Cinderella. Showing up despite the physics test you had to study for.

You wonder momentarily if Newton was behind this twisted feeling in your chest. Drawing you to him—like a moth to a flame. You even scan his sister’s Instagram from time to time, finding a picture of Changbin framed carefully beneath the stars, a twinkle in his eye.

You watch from afar as he accepts his diploma, a careful smile seated on your lips.

A bitter taste haunts your tongue as you pack for college.

“This is good for me,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ll be far, far away from him. I can move on.”

Some things are better left unsaid.

iii.

Awkward introductions replay in your memory as you get ready for your first college class. Seven fifteen, physics with Professor Kim. Denoted as one of the best in the country. Physicist and professor, respectively. It would be a lie to say he didn’t take part in your decision to attend this college. And the ocean, which is only a fifteen minute walk (that’s what the RA told you when you moved in).

You arrive with a hot americano precisely on time.

As you climb the lecture hall’s steps, your eyes drift among the sea of unfamiliar faces. One in particular sticks out—a glimmer of hope among the trenches. You raise a hand to wave, a smile quirking your lips. But, at the face directly next to him, you drift back.

Evidently, you didn’t move far enough.

You stand at the edge of the aisle, glancing down at the empty seat. “Hey, is this spot empty?”

Hope looks back at you with shock glazing his features. “Oh my God, Y/N! Of course. I didn’t know you decided to come here,” Minho smiles, tugging his notebook closer to allow you more room.

You pull out the chair, glancing at the boy on the other side of him. “I didn’t really tell anyone where I was going.”

He fills the silence with his tales of life, occasionally glancing at Changbin to see if he wants to add something. Each time, he is met with the boy’s indifferent profile. Mindlessly scrolling through his phone, though not once stopping to read one of the passing captions or like a picture.

Professor Kim claps, fizzling any remaining conversation. The syllabus fades in your mind as you wonder how Changbin’s summer went. Maybe he spent it with his sister. Or perhaps he accompanied a love interest to a string of dates.

This thought shoots a concoction of contradicting emotions through your heart. You return distracted eyes to Professor Kim just as he’s dismissing class, burying a content fist into the customly tailored pocket of his navy suit. Minho turns to you immediately, filling your ears with proposals to coffee and lunch and maybe you could come to the dorm later and catch up. Changbin’s ears perk up as he begs for Minho’s eyes.

For a split second, his eyes fall on you before they dart away.

“I need to get back to my dorm,” you announce when you can finally slip into Minho’s breaths of pause. “My roommate’s waiting.”

“Who’s your roommate? Maybe we know him.”

You fight a laugh when he finally glances back at Changbin, who has long since given up. “His name’s Yang Jeongin.”

iv.

While Minho is overly focused on you, begging you to tell him what happened after he moved in tenth grade, Changbin pretends you do not exist. When the conversations trail outside of the lecture hall, he clings to Minho’s side but does not speak. His eyes stay glued to the sidewalk. Or his textbook, whose cover he seems very invested in.

So when Professor Kim announces a project, your heart thumps a little too fast.

Minho grabs your arm, “Be my partner?”

Changbin kicks his leg. “Dude.”

He glances back at him, as though nothing he has said goes against him. “What? Just join our group.”

Changbin’s eyes find yours reluctantly. They ignite a spark in your fingertips as you reach for a pen. “Can I?”

You smile as your head twitches in a nod. “Of course.”

The plan is this: meet at the library on October 15th (a Saturday, you realize) at 1 P.M. “Expect to be there long, I wanna get this done ASAP,” Minho adds as he downs the rest of your americano.

When the day finally comes, despite your daily prayers that time would somehow freeze or somehow skip over the day, you leave your dorm right when you need to. Early October aids a brusque breeze, and you wrap your jacket around you as you approach the small crosswalk. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you dread the inevitable message.

Lee Minho [12:59 P.M.]: Sorry guys, I can’t make it. Mama Lee’s in town and wants to see her favorite son.

It’s too late to go home, you realize, when shoes scrape against the cement and a sigh penetrates the silence. “I cannot stand him,” the voice mutters behind you.

You turn to him, offering pitied condolences with a small smile. “Just the two of us, huh?”

He nods. “Guess so.”

A loud hum draws closer as his foot leans down for the asphalt. You look to the source, seeing a red car barreling down the street. You gasp, grabbing Changbin’s sleeve and tugging him back on the sidewalk. The horn echoes in the back of your head like an alarm.

His eyes are wide when they find yours. “T-Thank you,” he stutters, cocking his head a little. As though, for the first time, he is taking in your appearance.

You realize your grip is still tight on his wrist and you let go, tensing up. “You’re welcome.”

In the library, you work in silence. As though nothing happened outside. As though your entire history lies merely within the timespan of a few weeks. Minho serving as the mutual friend to your forced, awkward friendship.

He shoots you a dizzying look as he turns his packet to you. “Can you look this over?”

The tip of your eraser taps a number. “This has to be meters per second, not centimeters per second.”

A small sigh tumbles over his bottom lip as he realizes, “That’s why the final answer looked so weird. Thank you.”

The corner of your lip must have an opposite gravity to it, because it curls upward without intent.

Returning to class the next Monday leaves the soft hint of a calm lavender in the air. You share a quick, almost childish, glance with Changbin before settling back into the tune of physics. Newtons and joules and all the fun things that make up energy.

The next few weeks pass with a quiet hum, one that hangs in the background and, if you lose sight of it, you’re scared you’ll lose it forever. It’s a time of your life where you will look back with a sigh and whisper, “How did I not realize how good I had it?”

At your peak, you fall onto your bed on a Friday night. Jeongin scribbles impatient homework answers while your eyes fall shut.

The storm of your phone blaring its tune awakes you.

Lee Minho calls to remind you that he expects you to arrive at his ‘rager of a birthday party.’ He tells you the address, enthusiastically repeating himself (like an auctioneer) as you try to find a pad of paper. Jeongin’s jumping up to fix his hair before you even hang up.

You’re really not sure what you expect as you drag your roommate in tow towards the destination. Though, when you feel the tremble of music and hear shouts from the lawn of the frat house, you somehow know you’re in the right place.

The foyer is packed with jumping bodies. Leaning on the stairs, a red solo cup in hand, is the man of the hour. His cheeks are dusted in a light coating of heat and, as you approach him, you notice that glitter brushes soft highlights along his cheekbones.

“Happy early birthday!” you shout over the music.

He dizzily turns to you and drags you towards his chest in a swift motion. “Y/N! Thank you for coming!”

You had no choice. It was either come to the party or admit yourself to Lee Minho’s terrifying grudge list.

Despite this, you return with a grin, “Of course!”

When he lets you go into the stale air, he shoves his cup into your hand. “Try some,” he nods.

You tip the plastic to your lips. As the liquid scrapes the back of your throat, you flinch back. “What is this?” Your face twists.

“Just vodka and Coke.”

You hastily return the cup to him and glance around. Jeongin has disappeared to a desolate corner, you presume. A spark of jealousy runs through your veins.

“Where’s the bathroom?” you find yourself asking Minho.

He points down a vacant hallway and tells you it’s the last door on your left. You thank him before scurrying in that direction.

Your knock echoes, though nothing returns. The pale wood feels cold against your cheek as you listen for any life inside. You find it safe to enter. Instantly, you press your palms against the cold marble. Identical eyes stare into each other in the mirror until your eyes slip to the pale, spotless basin. You stare into the milky dome absently, pondering why you feel so odd being here. And for a moment you forget where you are, lost in the dizzying world of your thoughts.

Until you hear the choked sob from behind the shower curtain.

It takes you by surprise. Hesitantly, you reach out for the navy shield.

“Ch-Changbin?” you stutter, staring down at the boy in a mess of shock.

His legs are drawn to his chest as trails of tears line his cheeks. He lets out a squeak as he looks up to you. Arms fall to his sides as he leans forward. Though, he appears to have no intention of stopping, surrendering himself to gravity.

Your hands find his shoulders merely moments before his nose slams into the porcelain. “Are you drunk?” you whisper.

Though, in return, he sobs. “I’m sorry.”

Something pierces your chest. Your lips part to say something, but the words are clogged in your throat.

“I was such an idiot,” he slurs, swaying gently.

“What’re you talking about?” you finally ask.

His balled fist slams against the tub. “You!” he shouts, face twisting as he releases another cry.

You flinch back.

“My mom always asks how you’re doing, no matter how many times I tell her. My sister still has a grudge. Hell, even Hwang Hyunjin thinks I’m an idiot and he’s the one who tricked me into leaving you!”

He leans his cheek against the wall, once again releasing a cry. Though, this one, he fights to hold back. It scalds the air in a whimper.

Quieter, he admits, “You were the only person I’ve ever felt safe with.”

You sigh, looking down at your shoes. Those days when you wondered what had gone wrong, staring up at your blank ceiling and trying to relive his smile as quiet tears fell to your pillow, wash down the drain.

He watches intently as you climb into the tub. You do not look at him as you slowly lean against the wall he rests his cheek on. Instead, you stare at the mahogany finish of the small cabinets. Regardless, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your cheek. In this cold porcelain cage, all you can hear is the distant thumping of music and the occasional sniffle from the boy beside you. You smile at the familiarity of it, returning you to your former years cozied up on a playground. No worries back then, you jealously note with a muted snicker.

“I missed you,” you finally say. Tears blur your vision, warping the defined lines of wood into a mess of color.

When you bring yourself to look at him, his eyes are closed. You lean a little closer to see if he’s sleeping. Reluctant lips part as he whispers, his breath hot and reeking of tequila, “I missed you too.”

vi.

One of the things you come to realize is that Changbin’s smile has never changed. There’s still that little indent where his cheeks fold over and each time he offers a glimpse at it you are returned to the days of the swing.

Thanks to the drunken night (half drunken night, you should say, since he had enough for both of you), Changbin has allowed a sneak peek back to his life. Strictly over text, though. You’re not sure why he’s never asked to meet up—maybe it’s too much too fast, you think—but you cannot find it in you to complain. He’s back after all these years and that seems to be enough.

So you endure it, texting him until the early hours of the morning and fascinating yourself over all of these things you have missed.

Seo Changbin [2:39 A.M.]: My sister and I went to the elementary school a couple of weeks ago.

Looking at your phone burns your eyes, as does the weird feeling in your chest.

Y/N [2:40 A.M.]: Really? Has it changed much?

Seo Changbin [2:40 A.M.]: The kids after us got all the cool playground equipment :(

Seo Changbin [2:40 A.M.]: I should take you there one day haha. I think that’d be fun.

You fight the giggle that wishes to flee, glancing up at a sleeping Jeongin for reassurance.

Waking up in the morning is aided with fleeting regrets, though beneath it you realize there is a small skip in your step. One that flares a heat in your face when you walk into the physics classroom and reach to meet Changbin’s eyes. And there, waiting, is his gaze and a small smile.

Maybe you have it bad for Seo Changbin, you think, as Professor Kim begins talking about Newton’s Third Law.

vii.

Yang Jeongin is broadcasting his homework onto the cheap projector he bought on Amazon for $50. “Isn’t it so cool?” he marvels as his red pen underlines a key part of his notes.

You absently nod, glaring at your textbook. Between the lines is a screaming thought that cascades a waterfall of forget towards your upcoming exam. You fail to notice your phone buzzing against your bed. Daydreams are dangerous like that.

“Y/N,” Jeongin’s voice finally snaps you out of it. You look to him, standing at the door and lazily holding the knob. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Your heart leaps in your chest as you rush to take his spot. Before you can tug the door open, he presses a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful around him, please.”

You watch as he struts and flops down on his bed, opening a comic book above his head.

As you open the door, a little more hesitant than before the interaction with Jeongin, you smile.

Changbin is watching the end of your hall and playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. When he senses your presence, he finally breaks his trance and offers a smile. He keeps his voice low, “Can I talk to you?”

You nod, ignoring the annoying thump thump of your heart, “Sure. What’s up?”

“In private,” he adds, peeking over your head at Jeongin. Maintaining his hold on the comic book, though his eyes have drifted to you with a parental glare.

You shut the door behind you. His footsteps draw towards the common area, and you follow. There’s a silence draped over you until he abruptly stops in the middle of the hallway and turns to you. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

You blink. “W-What?”

He draws his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before continuing, “I made a stupid bet and I kind of really need the money.”

A shroud of toughness hides your instant willingness to help. “What do I get out of this?”

His eyes radiate the innocence of a child. They draw you to a distant memory, one that you might have seen in a movie and forced into a memory, but you’re not sure. You were at his house after he broke his arm and he cried, those same eyes staring at you as he whined about how much it hurt. And how itchy his arm was beneath the cast.

Your heart softens, and you have to fight the crumbling beneath your feet.

“Whatever you want,” he assertively nods. “Seriously.”

You sigh. “Do you have a plan?”

“I always have a plan,” he smiles, pulling you into a grateful hug. His hoodie smells vaguely of ramen with a hint of sealike cologne you might find in Lee Minho’s bathroom. You find yourself smiling as your hands rest on his back.

viii.

His hand, admittedly, feels a little odd in your hand. The last time you had held his hand was in second grade, when you went to the zoo on a field trip. Your class was already flooding into the bird exhibit with anticipation and exuberance. But you were crying your eyes out at the mere thought of seeing a parrot. (This unfounded fear is all thanks to Spongebob)

Changbin’s hand slipped into yours and slowly urged you in, mumbling that if you didn’t go you’d get stuck there forever. And then, he had whispered, the parrots might eat us alive. Even then, his hand was oddly clammy and a little sticky.

But now, as he guides you through the small neighborhood, you feel a calm mix of elation and awkwardness. Sure, this is groundbreaking material for you and your “small” crush on him. However, he’s not doing this because he likes you. He’s doing this because he needs some cash and you were a means of aiding him.

“Where are we going?” you ask, a cloud of your breath expanding from your lips. It’s only the beginning of November.

“You’ll see,” he glances over at you, a small smile painted on his pale cheeks.

There’s a small line of shrubs on your side of the sidewalk. Serving as a break in them is a metal archway, accompanied by a small wooden sign reading: Gyeonghwa Park. He turns into it, guiding you into the small fenced area. A two person swing set stands in the corner, absent seats trembling in the breeze. There’s a few wooden benches, though most are tainted in a layer of leaves.

“Ta-da,” he says, gesturing with his free arm at the small park.

You look around to the little duck statue in the corner. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are we here again?” you turn to him. His hand burns against your skin like a constant reminder.

“I can’t take you to our playground, so I thought we could settle for here as our first fake date,” he smiles. “Plus, we need couple pictures and I think this works well.”

You’re grateful for the breeze that dashes pink across your cheeks, disguising the heat that has rushed to them at his words. “R-Right,” you stutter.

He takes a seat on a leafless bench and slips his phone from his pocket. As you reluctantly sit beside him, you watch as he sends texts to his friends. Nothing regarding you, you presume, but when he feels your eyes he quickly closes the chat.

The pictures are poised carefully, his arm resting on the top of the bench behind you, your head tilted towards his as you smile. Without warning, he presses his lips to your cheek as the shutter clicks. You try not to make your flinch obvious.

He pulls back, smiling slightly as he inquires, “Should we kiss to seal the deal?”

Fire poisons your veins as you stare back at him. The invisible mark his lips had left sizzles in the air. “Do you think we should?” you whisper.

He shrugs. “It’ll make it a bit more believable. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, though.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Kiss me.”

The corners of his lips upturn a little further, sending a shiver down your spine—though maybe it was just the wind. He readjusts his phone, glancing to assure you’re both in frame, before leaning in. At first, his lips merely wander in the air before yours, as though he is thinking about the best way to do this. But then, confident lips press against yours. His touch melts away the numbness in your fingers, the shiver of the cold. In this moment of freedom, you wonder if he had ever wondered what your lips tasted like. Because you sure have.

ix.

Each of your fake dates is constructed with careful attention to detail. A trip to the movies (seeing a film you had mentioned wanting to see very briefly over text). A study ‘date’ that didn’t really feel romantic, though he brought you an americano and a fancy pen he stole from his dad’s work.

But your date today is very special. The diner is filled to the brim with hungry college students and elderly couples. In the back, bunched up against the upholstery, are Changbin’s friends. They throw their heads back to laugh as one tells a stupid joke. Changbin leads you down the aisle slowly. He squeezes your hand, whispering over his shoulder, “Thank you, again, for doing this. It means a lot.”

You smile against your will,“That’s what friends are for.”

As you approach, the new and familiar faces turn to you. Some hold smiles, others hold gaping lips.

“I didn’t think you actually found someone willing to date you,” a boy marvels.

“Let alone Y/N! How come I didn’t know you were dating?” Minho shouts, garnering certain harsh looks from neighboring booths.

A glimmering smile finds your lips as you slide into the booth beside him, “You never asked.”

He scoffs. “Am I supposed to ask when anything life-changing happens?”

Changbin files in beside you, sighing, “Not necessarily, but you talk a lot.”

“How long have you been dating?” a boy across from you asks. His cheeks are dusted with light freckles, and a friendly smile paints across his lips.

“Nearly two months,” you glance at Changbin, who nods. The finer details, he stressed, must be known like the back of your hand. A single hair out of place could be the end.

“Are you serious?” Minho booms. His eyes are wide and his lips are parted. Even his eyebrows raise in awe, scratching dull wrinkles across his forehead.

“You do talk a lot,” you mumble.

Before Minho can have the chance to shout profanities aiding his awe, another boy sighs. “Shut up and congratulate them, okay? This is karma for laughing at him when he wanted in on the bet.”

“Thank you, Chan,” Changbin smiles, wrapping an adept arm around your shoulder. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder.

As the night unfolds, queued by digging questions and the occasional groan from Minho, you nearly forget that this is an act. That when Changbin presses a kiss to your forehead it’s not real.

Outside of the diner, as his friends disperse into their means of transportation, he cups your cheeks and presses a soft kiss to your lips. When he parts, there’s a small smile and a gloss hanging over his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers.

He promises to pick you up at five. All that remains is the reward, you realize. A simple favor has brought you here, waiting impatiently for his knock on your door. Your heart beats harshly against your chest.

“Why are you even messing with him?” Jeongin mutters, stirring his ramen with the tips of his chopsticks.

You glance up at him, sighing, “I’m not messing with him. I’m doing him a favor.”

“Yeah, but, why? He’s an asshole, Y/N,” he shakes his head. As he shoves the steaming noodles into his mouth, he hisses at the heat and tilts his head to the side.

You watch him as he gulps down water.

At your prolonged silence, he adds, “When is he supposed to pick you up?”

You tap your phone screen, illuminating the time. “Five minutes ago.”

Jeongin drowns his harsh words with more noodles. Though, in between bites, he says, “Maybe he’s standing you up.”

The thought has crossed your mind, though a hollow in your chest wants to believe he wouldn’t do that. Friends, if that’s what you are, don’t do that.

Seconds drift into minutes. And minutes turn into an hour. Jeongin’s gone through three more ramen cups. Your lips ache as you nervously bite them, jumping for your phone at each notification.

At half past six, Jeongin rests into your bed beside you. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as he wraps a cautious arm around your shoulder.

Though, you do not feel anything aside from the irritation blurring your eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks. These simple words open the floodgate.

xi.

His eyes avert yours as though they had never known you in the first place. Minho doesn’t say anything when you lower yourself in the seat beside him. Instead, he cautiously slips you a small note. Large, scratchy words read: are you okay?

You crumble the note in your palm before tucking it into your bag. He does not bother you for the rest of class. Class travels by in grueling moments. Professor Kim’s voice seems slowed, stripped of any tone. When he finally dismisses class, warning that the semester is ending soon, you haphazardly shove your things into your bag and leave.

Over your shoulder, you hear a low smack and Minho mutter, “What the hell is the matter with you?”

It hurts to admit, given that you had known from the beginning, but Seo Changbin used you. Though, despite the anger you should be feeling, you can only find yourself wondering what he needed the money so badly for.

Back at the dorm, Jeongin silently pulls a piece of cake from the small fridge and hands it to you. “Here,” he mumbles. “My friend made it for you.”

You look up at him. “Why?” Your voice is raw from desuetude, crackles like an old radio.

Jeongin bites his lip, eyes slipping to your comforter. “I told him you were having a rough time. Plus, he knows Changbin, so he knows the story.”

You take the paper plate in your fingertips, dragging it toward you. You poke the delicacy with the tip of your fork. “What’s the story?”

A sigh slips past his lips. “That you guys dated and you broke up. That’s all Changbin told them.”

You nod. He must’ve gotten the money and thrown you away.

Your phone buzzes against the mattress. Jeongin leans over to check who it is. When his eyes meet yours again, he informs, “It’s just Minho.”

So you allow yourself to look at your phone.

Lee Minho [9:20 A.M.]: I’m outside your dorm. Let me in please.

You look up to the door, though your energy is below zero. Jeongin grabs your phone, reading the message, before going to answer the door.

“Hey, Jeongin,” Minho pushes past him. He sits at the foot of your bed. “What happened?”

You blink, eyes staring into his absently. “What?”

“With Changbin. Tell me what happened, please. He won’t tell us anything and I’m starting to get worried for both of you. He’s never this quiet and you’re never this sulky,” he reluctantly rests his hand on your knee.

You look at Jeongin, who stands there with arms against his chest. He shrugs, silently telling you it’s up to you.

You sigh. “Where do I start?”

“The beginning, preferably.”

“I think I fell in love with him, but I can’t tell you when. Maybe it was when we were kids. Maybe it was at the party when he apologized,” you slowly say. The words do not feel like yours. A small pit rumbles in your stomach, begging you to continue. “He wanted a favor, to pretend to date him for that bet you guys made. I didn’t ask why he needed the money or why I should do this for him, given all he did to me. I just went with it. And things were great, as far as fake relationships go.”

In your break of silence, you find yourself smiling at all the fake dates. You wonder if the pictures still live in his phone or if he discarded them the moment he got rid of you.

“So you guys faked the whole thing?” Minho’s eyebrows furrow.

You nod. “He was supposed to pick me up on Saturday, but he stood me up. And now we’re here.”

Minho blinks. “Either Changbin’s a good actor or he’s a fucking asshole.”

“It’s the latter,” Jeongin announces as he crosses to his bed.

Minho shakes his head. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Don’t tell him what I said,” you rush. “About loving him or anything.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

After he leaves, Jeongin loudly sighs. “I knew you were in love with him.”

You look at him, slowly nodding, “I didn’t really make an effort to hide it.”

xii.

There are tears irritating your skin as you pull yourself out of bed. Surviving off of Felix’s cake and Jeongin’s ramen cups is less than attractive, but you cannot build enough will to leave your dorm. You ask Minho to take notes in physics for you and he quickly obliges, no questions asked.

Changbin, still, plagues your mind like venom. Each time you think maybe a nap is in order, you shut your eyes and see his smile. Or you’ll think of his lips on yours as he smiles into the kiss. Your eyes shoot open, chest rising heavily. Even when you stare at your ceiling too long, your brain deems it a screen for a memory to play. Casted like Jeongin’s cheap projector.

There was this once, in fourth grade when you grew bored of the swings so you relocated to the plastic blue tunnel. He blocked off one end while you took the other. On hotter days, you’d lay on top of the tunnel. One day, he looked at you across the plastic and asked, “Do you ever think we’ll be grown ups far away from each other?”

You shook your head so confidently. “No. We’re gonna live together. Like roommates.”

Jeongin comes home from his classes with a cup of coffee. He sets it on your nightstand as he whispers, “I’m spending the night at Chan’s tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

You take a sip of the americano. “Thanks, have fun.”

In his wake is a dreaded silence that reminds you of Changbin’s laugh. Time has only plagued it with a dash of depth.

Your phone buzzes. Hesitantly, you roll over and grab it. The metal is cold against your fingers.

Lee Minho [4:29 P.M.]: Hey, I need you to come to the beach. There’s something I want to show you.

The thing that tipped you over the edge when looking for a college was the beach. As you carefully scouted, the grains of sand kept drawing you back. It’s ironic as you realize that you haven’t been once, despite its proximity. You can already feel the bitter cold against your cheeks as you rise from your bed. Dots of dizziness scatter across your eyes.

The mid November air is cooler than you expected as you step out of the complex. You shove balled fists deeper into your hoodie pocket.

The walk to the beach is shorter than you had expected, only passing ten minutes. You see Minho waiting on the wooden slats leading to the sand. He jumps to preserve his heat.

“Hey,” you call out to him.

He looks to you, daring to unveil a pale hand as he waves. When you’re closer he says, “It’s fucking cold out here.”

You nod, looking out onto the vacant sand. Huddled like a speck of trash is a small figure.

“Why’d you want to meet out here?” you return to look at him, a piercing cold slashing your heart at the realization.

His face softens as he glances out towards the black speck in the sand. “Well, he wanted to meet you here but he wasn’t sure if you’d come if he texted. So he dragged me out here.”

You find yourself laughing. “And you agreed?”

“I didn’t know it was negative twenty out here,” he mutters. “So go and talk to him so I can get back in my car.”

You smile. Your heart thunders against your chest and, even though you know you shouldn’t, your feet move towards the small figure. He tugs you in, time and time again.

You glance over your shoulder when you reach him. Minho’s already gone, as though his presence was merely a ghost. You squat next to Changbin, wrapping your arms around your knees.

He looks at you, though you keep focused on the pale water. Brushing up on the sand, pulling back into the ocean.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You nod. “You always say that.”

“I really am,” he admits. “I know you probably think I’m an asshole, reasonably so, but I really am sorry for everything.”

You finally look at him. “What’d you need the money for?”

He’s taken aback. He had expected more of a heartbreaking confession, a perspective he had not once explored. “Music equipment,” he says. “It’s really for me, Chan, and Jisung.”

You nod, looking back at the water. “I was just a ragdoll so you could get that.”

“Not really,” he whispers. “It was kinda a double positive for me.”

Furrowed eyebrows turn back to him.

“I got the money,” he starts, “and I also got the luxury of pretending to be yours.”

You blink. Your voice is small, barely audible over a gust of wind, “What?”

“Every time I did something stupid that got in between us, I always knew I’d find my way back to you. I was the tide and you were the moon, reaching out and tugging me back into reality. Time and time again, as we’ve come to understand,” he nods, glancing at his red fingers, bitten by the air.

You stare at him. “So why do you keep pushing me away?”

He shrugs. “There was always the fear that you didn’t want to bring me back.”

You scoff, remembering your childhood and the way he kept drawing you closer. You shake your head, words failing you.

“So truly, I am so sorry. You still have your end of the deal, you know. You get whatever you want. You can tell me to fuck off and I’ll go home. Sure, I’d be a little heartbroken, but-”

You cut him off, “Why would I ever do that?”

“Because I treat you like shit to fuel this stupid ideology that you don’t hate me,” he admits. “Even when I don’t try to be, I’m a selfish asshole. I only kissed you because I wanted to, not because of the stupid pictures for the bet. I only asked you for the favor because I wanted to paint this stupid little picture in my head. I only stood you up because I couldn’t bring myself to face you and admit that my stupid fantasy was over.”

“That’s not selfish,” you say. “That’s just very Seo Changbin of you.”

“I really cannot tell if you hate my guts or not,” he sighs, picking up a handful of sand and watching as it trickles down again.

You shake your head. “Minho didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

You look back at the empty space where the ghost once stood. A sigh of a distant nostalgia slips from your lips—the times you’ve pictured this moment over and over in your daydreams. However, you did not imagine the bitter bite of the wind nipping at your cheeks. “That I’m in love with you.”

“You what?” he gawks, leaning a bit closer. As though his ears deceive him.

Your eyes return to his as you nod. “I love you. I probably have since we were kids. That’s the only reason I agreed to your favor. Because I, too, wanted to be a little selfish.”

His lips slowly curl up into a smile as he releases an abrasive laugh. “How much did Minho pay you to say that?”

“He didn’t. I’m being completely honest. Why else would I be here if I wasn’t stupidly in love with you, huh?”

“Really?”

“Yes, now can we speed this up? It’s fucking cold out here.”

He presses his lips against yours. You expect them to mold against yours like they had in previous weeks, but now they are fiery. It sends tingles down your spine as he cups your cheek. With those internal feelings finally suspended from your body, you can sigh a breath of relief.

You wonder if younger you would be proud.

xiii.

“Are you guys actually dating now or are you just fucking with us again?” one of Changbin’s friends, Jisung, asks as you slide into the same booth as a few weeks ago.

“They are,” Minho intervenes. “I watched them confess and everything. Like a minister.”

“Bullshit,” you mutter. “You went back to your car as soon as I got there.”

Changbin’s laugh tickles against your ear as he scoots in next to you.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t revoke the award,” the freckled boy, who you’ve now concluded is Felix, observes.

“Why?” Jisung asks, bringing the straw of his soda to his lips.

“Because we would have had to give it right back.”

His friends are very welcoming of you, despite the deception that marked your first greeting. Chan catches you in the parking lot as Changbin and Jisung fight over the extra mint the server placed on the table.

“I just want you to know,” he starts with a smile, “that he really loves you. It’s not a front, I promise.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you ask, “Those are suspicious words. How should I trust you?”

“Because he talks about you all the time. I know more about your childhood than I know about mine. Plus, he’s written three songs about you and we don’t even have the equipment to record anything yet.”

You laugh, “You’re in luck, then.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

You smile, shaking your head. “You’ll find out.”

Changbin returns to your side, a sullen scowl pressed against his lips as he watches Jisung pop the mint into his mouth. Chan dismisses himself to attend to Felix attempting to teach Minho a taekwondo move.

You look over at Changbin, “You’ve written songs about me?”

His eyes widen, “No? Why would I ever do that?”

A giggle bubbles up from your stomach as you shake your head, starting off to his car. Behind you, he repeats the same question urgently.

xiv.

Seo Changbin is like a pest that flies around your head, begging your attention at all moments of the day. He invited you over to his dorm so you could study together, though when you arrived with your textbook and notes, he appeared offended.

“What?” you asked as you settled on his bed, fluffing pillows before leaning against them.

“Studying doesn’t mean studying, it means cuddling,” he pouted.

It’s lucky for him that Minho isn’t home because if he ever heard those words falling from his lips, he’d never hear the end of it.

So that’s why you’re laying your head on his pillow, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you read over your notes.

“What’s the formula for Newton’s law of universal gravitation?” you quiz him when you feel his arms start to loosen with the temptation of sleep.

He hums, “I don’t know. You’re the one with the strong magnetic force. Shouldn’t they call it Y/N’s law of universal gravitation?”

You sigh, setting the spiral notebook on his nightstand before you turn in his arms to face him. The hint of a smile already greets you. You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “What’s your grade in physics?”

He looks up at the ceiling as he pretends to think. “38.”

“What?” you hiss, pulling back away from him as though he has an illness you didn’t know about.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” he whines, pulling you back. “I only signed up for the class because it reminded me of you.”

You smile. “Why?”

He shyly pouts, “I may have gone out of my way to hear about you when we were in high school.”

“And you never thought to apologize?” you counter, your smile still reigning.

“You looked like you were doing fine without me,” he shyly admits.

“Changbin,” you shake your head. “I had no friends after Minho moved. I chased after you, thinking maybe something would happen.”

He closes his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t see me in Cinderella.”

“I saw you in Cinderella,” you laugh.

He throws his head back and whines. “The pants they put me in were two sizes too big.”

The memory of him standing on stage and having to hold up his pants, disguising it by having his hands on his hips, brings another laugh to the air. “Did they really not have any clothespins or anything?”

“No!” he exclaims, looking back into your eyes. “Fucking Hyunjin was hoarding them all!”

You feel the vibrations of your laugh against the pillow. It’s good being like this, having him tethered close.

He’s in the middle of saying something, probably further pursuing his complaints about high school or Hyunjin, but you do not care. You press your lips against his. A moment of stillness, thanks to his shock, before he kisses you back.

The only word to describe this feeling brewing in your stomach: bliss. Pure, hot bliss.

You hope gravity will keep you grounded here.

130 notes · View notes