#when i tried to see how a dress fit my mom put the hanger over the back of my neck | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years

Note

Nia just needed a friend to do a hard mall trip. Trying out dresses. For a formal dance. And hey, maybe Lena and Kara are mad at each other but... She just needs Lena okay?

When Lena receives a call from an unknown number, she almost ignores it. But just enough people spread her phone number that she answers it on the off chance it might be someone who needs her.

“Lena Luthor, how can I help you?”

“Lena, please don’t hang up.”

The voice is familiar, but Lena can’t place it until the voice continues.

“It’s Nia. Nia Nal? And I know--” Lena almost hangs up right then-- not because it’s Nia, but because Nia treads dangerously close to a subject Lena is dead set on avoiding. Almost. “I know you have no reason to take my call, but… I need your help.”

Lena almost hangs up. She doesn’t.

“What do you need?”

---

The crisis, Lena learns, is that Nia has been given the assignment of her life covering the Golden Globes ceremony being hosted in downtown National City, but has nothing even remotely appropriate to wear. The mundanity of it all is so far from what Lena expects that it’s long moments before the words fully register.

“Uh, Lena…?”

“I’m here,” Lena says quickly, clearing her throat. She leans forward in her chair, rattling off an address. “Meet me there tomorrow at 11am.”

The next day, a few minutes after eleven, Nia walks up to Lena outside of Sylvie with hesitation all over her face. “Lena?”

Lena tucks her phone away and turns towards Nia with a professional but bright grin. “Nia, you made it.”

“Uhm, yeah actually… I kinda thought I’d gotten lost…”

Lena looks at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Lena, I can’t afford anything on this boulevard, are you crazy??”

Oh.

“You’re not paying,” Lena says simply.

Wide eyes blink at her in shock. “What? No! No, Lena, I can’t ask you to do that--”

“I’m offering.”

“Look, I was thinking we could just go to the mall--”

“The mall.”

Nia quails under Lena’s judgement, and Lena softens.

“Nia, you are about to be on the red carpet, covering an event that could catapult your career into the stratosphere. I think that warrants something a little more than what a department store can offer.”

“But…” Nia continues to protest, but uncertainty colors her features, and Lena knows she’s slipped under her guard. Carefully, Lena places a hand on Nia’s wrist.

“I won’t force you to accept what I’m offering,” she says gently. “But calling a Luthor for help means calling for a Luthor solution-- and nothing says Luthor more than shopping at the best boutique in town.”

Nia nods, but she ducks her chin with a swallow. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t want you to think that’s why I called, you know?” Nia expels a sigh, working a harried hand through her hair. “It’s just that Kara was supposed to come with me for moral support, but she’s had to cancel four times and the ceremony is in three days and if Andrea hears one more time that I don’t have a dress, she’s going to kill me…”

“Nia,” Lena says softly. Nia stops, and meets Lena’s gaze with a hesitant one of her own. “I would never think you were calling for a hand out. I’m offering.” Nia still looks uncertain, but Lena holds her gaze. “You asked for help… so let me help.”

Nia considers her words, studying Lena carefully. Finally, she wraps her arms around herself with a steadying sigh. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

Nia follows a few paces behind as Lena turns and approaches the door to the shop, lingering to let Lena be the one to press the buzzer to be allowed in. But as they near, the door opens for them, ready and waiting to admit them.

Luthors don’t use buzzers.

“Welcome to Sylvie.” A pair of well groomed attendants relieve them of their purses, exchanging their bags for a couple flutes of champagne offered by a third.

“Thank you,” Lena replies easily, well versed in the practice. Nia fumbles a step behind, her movements stiff and uncertain. Instead of moving directly into the belly of the store as she usually did, Lena lingers, allowing Nia the chance to take in the shop for the first time. The showroom looks much like any other, as could be glimpsed through the windows, styled with clean lines and immaculately dressed mannequins. The true Sylvie experience, however, happens further in, beyond the curtains that separate the dressing rooms from the rest of the store.

“If you’ll follow me, ladies, I’ll show you to your dressing room.”

Lena wonders what Nia expected as they approached one of the curtained off areas. Perhaps a cramped alcove like the hollywood thrift stores shown in coming-of-age films, where your elbows knocked the walls as you changed and you’d be lucky to find a stool to put your own clothes. Certainly it isn’t the plush, spacious room that awaits them, if Nia’s wide eyes are anything to go by.

Charnelle waits for them at the curtain. “Welcome, ladies,” she greets, parting the curtain so that Lena and Nia can slip inside. “Lena, lovely to see you again.”

“And you,” Lena returns.

“I’m Charnelle,” she introduces herself to Nia. “Wonderful to meet you. I’ll be assisting the two of you today.”

“Thankyousomuch,” Nia says in a rush, her shoulders tight as she shakes Charnelle’s offered hand.

Charnelle allows the curtains to close behind them, isolating them in their own little pocket of divine luxury. Lena settles herself on the central chaise lounge, folding her legs elegantly before her. Nia perches on the edge beside her, her gaze flicking to the small boudoir in one corner and another curtain that shields the actual changing area. Inside there, Lena knows Nia will find a plush bench to sit on as she undresses, and gold hangers to hold her clothes while she tries on various gowns. It’s designed to be beyond comfortable, a place where one could spend hours-- and lots and lots of money.

“So, what do you have for us today, Lena? Another benefit gala to dazzle?”

“Actually,” Lena replies, “Miss Nal here is covering the Golden Globes this week for CatCo Worldwide.”

“How exciting!” Charnelle rounds on Nia. “And what are you looking for in your gown?”

Caught with a mouthful of champagne, Nia freezes, then swallows audibly. “Um…” she coughs out. “Something nice? I probably shouldn’t be outdressing the stars or anything, so nothing too crazy?” She shrugs. “I don’t know, exactly.”

“Charnelle,” Lena intercedes, “could you bring us some formal options in black, maroon, or blue? Floor length, of course.”

Charnelle nods, beaming. “Absolutely.” She gives Nia a wink. “She has your colors nailed, honey. What are your measurements?”

Nia stares at them both. “Uh. A six, usually?”

“They’ll need your measurements to ensure a proper fit,” Lena delivers gently. “Do you mind if Charnelle--?”

“I’m trans!” Nia blurts, her chinks coloring a solid ear-to-ear pink. “Sorry,” she adds quietly. “But-- yeah. Just so you know.”

Lena stares, surprised more by the outburst than its content, but Charnelle takes it in stride. “So am I, baby girl,” she responds smoothly. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have a dress that fits.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nia finally, finally relaxes. She offers a shaky grin. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Charnelle gives Nia’s wrist a squeeze on her way to the boudoir to pull a tape measure from the top drawer. While she’s busy, Lena catches Nia’s eye and lifts her glass in a silent cheers of support. Nia rewards her with a small smile, before Charnelle returns and makes quick work of measuring Nia’s bust, waist and hips.

“All right!” Charnelle chirps, wrapping up her tape. “I’ll be right back with some options. You two stay here and get comfortable, all right? I’ll be right back.”

She disappears, and Nia all but collapses onto the chaise next to Lena. “I can’t believe I did that,” she groans.

Lena pats her on the knee. “You’re all right. Sylvie only gets my business because they know the value of discretion.”

“Yeah.” Nia lifts her head with a hum, surveying the dressing room once more. “This is nice. Thank you for talking me into it.”

Lena smirks. “Just wait.”

As if on cue, the curtains part to admit not Charnelle, but the woman who’d offered them their drinks. This time, her tray holds an array of small finger sandwiches. “Refreshments?”

“Oh, wow!” Nia exclaims, quickly helping herself to three. “Okay, yeah. I could get used to this.”

Lena grins, snaring a cucumber sandwich for herself. “Thank you. And another round, if you could,” she adds, seeing Nia’s empty glass.

The woman nods. “Of course.”

When she has disappeared again, the dressing room fills with quiet, and Lena realizes that she doesn’t have a clue what to say. She’s gone shopping with her mother, and with Andrea, and in both cases the conversation flowed easily, for better or for worse. But she’s never been shopping with a girl several years her junior, and never one in the middle of Lena’s biggest heartbreak.

“It happened the last time I went shopping for a dress too,” Nia says, breaking the silence. “The anxiety about… you know. I guess something about formal wear brings out the worst of it.”

Unsure of how to respond, Lena looks at her. “When was the last time?”

Nia sighs. “Prom. I’d transitioned by then, and most people were used to me, but I didn’t have a date, and part of me just internalized it as a fixture of me not being girly enough, and not, you know, the fact I didn’t know how to talk to boys, let alone date them. I didn’t even know if it was worth it to go at all, and I just-- started crying, right there in the dress shop.”

“What happened then?” Lena asks gently.

Nia smiles fondly. “My mom. She just hugged me, and told me how proud she was to have such a beautiful, confident daughter. It was sort of embarrassing at the time, but… it was something I needed to hear, you know?”

She pauses then as the server returns with their champagne. Afte the woman dips out again, Lena nudges her. “And did you ever find a dress?”

Nia snorts, nodding. “Yeah. Like, two minutes after I calmed down I found my dream dress. And my friends and I had a blast at prom, so I’m glad I went after all.”

“Good,” Lena murmurs, sipping her drink. “Well, I can’t promise anything about a dream dress, but I’ll call it a win if we get out of here without any tears.”

“Cheers to that,” Nia concurs, lifting her own glass for a deep sip.

In that moment, Charnelle returns, wheeling a short cart of long dresses along with her.

“All right, ladies-- who’s ready to see some gowns?”

---

Nia settles on a bias-cut gown of sky blue, accented with beaded embroidery at the bust and straps. It may not have qualified for dream status, but it’s perfect for the Globes, and Lena can tell Nia is excited by the time they step back out onto the street, garment bag draped over her arm.

“Thank you, again,” Nia offers, hiking her purse higher on her shoulder. “You really didn’t have to do all this, especially with how weird things are right now. I know it probably wasn’t easy to say yes when I called last night.”

Lena blinks. It honestly hadn’t occurred to her to say no. “Nia?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you call me?” It’s her turn now to shift uncomfortably on her feet. “I’m always happy to help, but… as you say, things are weird. Why me?”

“Honestly?” Nia asks. Lena nods. “You remind me of my mom. I can’t begin to tell you how or why, but you do. And the thing is… my mom was probably the kindest person I’ve ever known. So-- if you reminded me of her, I figured you were a pretty safe bet. And the worst you could do was hang up on me, so…”

Right.

Lena nods, her throat locking painfully around a sudden lump in her throat. Forcing a smile, she clears her throat. “Okay. Well… I’m glad I was able to help. Are you okay to get home?”

Nia nods easily. “Yeah, I’ll just catch the bus. Thank you again. This was really nice, and it was really good to see you.”

Lena nods, but before she can turn away, Nia catches her by the wrist.

“I mean it, Lena. I owe you one. If you ever need anything…”

Lena turns her wrist, allowing her hand to settle into Nia’s palm. Giving it a squeeze, Lena offers her a smile.

“I know who to call.”

// prompts are closed

#lena and nia #brotp #trying on dresses #nia and lena go shopping #prompt filled #quarantine prompt party 2.0 #GUESS WHO'S WRITING #AND FINALLY CATCHING UP ON THE PROMPTS SITTING IN HER INBOX #*jabs thumbs at self* this guy!!#this was fun #thanks nonnie

758 notes · View notes

lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Vaincre

part iii

cw: brief, non-graphic mention of injury and medical assistance

September

Only blue talk and love

Remember

How we knew love was here to stay

Summer hadn’t truly felt over until Remus saw Regulus standing in the airport, bags checked for New York and backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Well,” Regulus said, shifting a little between his feet. “Here goes.”

Remus laughed. “It’s going to be amazing, Reg.”

“Maybe. Hopefully.”

“It will,” Sirius said. “But if you need anything we’re…what? A four hour drive?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, you can call.”

Regulus huffed out a laugh. “You two sound like worried parents.”

Sirius laughed, too. “I’m just glad we know what those sound like now.”

Regulus’ expression shifted, tightening. He nodded, seemed to hang in hesitation for a moment, and then walked forward two steps and threw his arms around Sirius. Sirius froze, too, with his hands in his pockets, and then wrapped his little brother up tight.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Remus heard Regulus murmur softly. “I don’t really think you left me there. With them.”

Sirius made an indistinguishable sound, and Remus took a step back, giving them space and not sure if he was fighting tears or a smile. He used to just think about how he could kill Sirius and Regulus’ parents if he had the chance, but now, seeing how far the brothers had come, he wasn’t sure they were worth the time at all.

“Come home sometimes, okay?” Sirius said. “D’accord?”

“Ouais,” Regulus said.

They pulled apart slowly, both a little bright-eyed. Sirius laughed wetly, wiping his face.

“And make good friends.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s supposed to be good choices.”

Sirius reached out for Remus’ hand. “Good friends are good choices.”

“Ah,” Regulus hitched his pack farther up his shoulder. “Of course.”

“Call when you get there, too,” Remus cut in. “My mom would definitely want me to say that.”

Regulus waved them off. “Okay, that’s enough parenting. I’m going now.”

Sirius held Remus’ hand tight as they watched Regulus go through security and then disappear with a wave, sliding his headphones on. He let out a long, unsteady breath.

“Merde.”

“Love ya,” Remus smiled, reaching up to wipe a tear from Sirius’ cheek.

Sirius glanced down at him. “He’s going to be fine.”

“He is,” Remus nodded.

“He forgives me.”

“No,” Remus said. “He told you that you never did anything wrong.”

Sirius let out another tearful laugh, sniffing. “Right. You’re right.”

Remus pushed up on his toes to kiss his cheek. “Wanna get dinner?”

“Ouais. That sounds perfect.”

They wandered the summer soft streets, cooled by the evening and by approaching September. Remus was torn between being ready to let summer go, and never wanting it to end at the same time.

It’s good to hear a packed Hogwarts Stadium again, huh, Dean? Even if just for a preseason game against our New York Rangers neighbors.

Right, Lee? I love this post-summer feeling, and I know our Lions do, too. Especially excited to see what our new talent has to offer. This’ll be fan’s first glimpse at Lupin and Reyes, our two…well, I suppose rookie wouldn’t be quite as perfect a word for Lupin as it is for Reyes. We’re used to Lupin’s face around here, huh.

That we are. Not used to seeing what is rumored to be some very quick feet on him, though. As far as testing went, that is.

Right, the bike test. As well as strength. Who knows. This could be building up to a very interesting season.

Remus stared up at the TV mounted on the wall as he peddled slowly on the stationary bike, keeping his legs warm. He felt bizarre, and had been dodging any type of media to avoid having to talk about it. He was dreading post-game. Every time he tried to think of something to say, his mind went blank.

I’m happy to be here.

I never thought I would be here.

The other half of his brain was trying to compute that it wouldn’t just be the preseason, practice scrimmages he was used to. It wouldn’t just been his team, his friends, out there. Not that it would be a full fledged game, either. No one looked to crushing blows during a preseason game. It was about getting warm. Remus was thankful for it. He didn’t know how he was going to feel when he put his jersey on. When he stepped out onto the ice. He had been nervous enough for the fitness testing.

“You’re literally the fastest guy here,” Finn had said after he’d gotten off of the bike—with the highest score. It had made him feel better, but he knew he wouldn’t really be settled until until coach called his name from the line card.

“Loops,” Logan said, swinging onto the bike beside him. “I keep running into you.”

Remus smiled. “Looks like we having similar warm-up routines.”

“Apparemment,” Logan nodded, turning up the resistance. “Nervous?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

Logan nodded, but stayed quiet and Remus was thankful. Everyone tried to talk him out of it, Sirius included, and he loved them for that, but at the same time, this was nice, too.

“Me too, sort of,” Logan said, and they traded a smile before looking back up at the Gryffindor pre-game show.

“All right,” Coach Arthur Weasley clapped his hands and gestured to the side of the room where the assistant coaches and staff were standing. The whole locker room was flooded with energy of all kinds—nervous, excited—and it flowed through those not in uniform, too. “We all know Moody. We all know our coaches. Mason, Alexandra, and Dan. We all know our PTs—should I say new PTs—“ there were some laughs. “Lars and Layla.”

“Double-Ls,” Thomas whooped.

Layla gave two thumbs up, and Lars remained stoic, arms crossed. He hadn’t said much since arriving aside from the occasional wise-cracking joke delivered without a trace of a smile.

“Who’s captain serious now, eh?” Thomas leaned in to whisper, and Remus suppressed a smile, glancing at Sirius—who was wearing an almost equally focused expression on his face, completely still where he sat a few stalls down, past Thomas and James. Remus glanced around the locker room, down the crescent-shaped row. Kasey and Leo, on opposite ends, were both geared up. Finn and Leo were sharing AirPods. Remus knew Kasey had worked hard over the summer, rehabbing his thigh, strengthening and increasing flexibility. He knew Leo was happy to be his back-up, but part of him wondered what Leo thought about all the games he had played in the play-offs, only to be placed right back on the bench now. It happened to a lot of guys—some were called up for injury, only to be sent right back down to the farm team when injuries healed. But Remus thought it was different for goalies. He hoped Coach wouldn’t leave Leo sitting on the bench for too long.

“Who’s calling first line?” Coach asked, and held the card out to Sirius. “Cap?”

Remus didn’t realize until the cheers broke out that he could be loud with the rest of them, and gave his stall a few bangs as Sirius rose, hat keeping his hair back. His eyes found Remus’ briefly once had turned towards them with the card, and Remus’ breath caught at his beaming grin.

“Okay, boys, first line,” Sirius said. “We’ve got Pots.”

Clap.

“Tremzy.”

Thomas drum-rolled his stall.

Sirius smiled. “Myself.”

Finn put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

“And on D, Olli and Timmy.”

While the boys burst into chatter again, Remus watched Sirius hand the card back to Coach, and caught his eye again, raising an eyebrow. Sirius held up Thomas’ number, and Jackson’s. Remus nodded to himself. That could be the third or fourth line, and he’d played well with both of them in scrimmages. It made sense. He could work with that.

And it meant he’d get to watch Sirius out there. At least that wouldn’t change.

“All right,” Coach laughed, putting his glasses back on and turning towards the other coaches. “Get dressed, get dressed.”

Remus had sat in his stall quite a few times by now. For his promo-pictures at the beginning of the summer—the first time he had slipped his jersey on, too, right over his suit and tie. But sitting in it now, strapping his pads over his bare chest before a game, a game where he would be up against other NHL players…that was different.

“You’re one of those?” Thomas snorted, flicking Remus’ bare ribs. “Doesn’t the velcro scratch?”

Remus laughed. “Can’t break old habits.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Or is now the perfect time to make new ones.”

“Not after a year like the last,” Remus said.

“Oh,” Thomas whistled, yanking the laces of his skates tight. “You’re that superstitious.”

“I try not to be,” Remus stood. “But playing again…seems to bring it out in me.”

Remus turned to step into his pants, adjusting the pads and his jock until everything fit together comfortably. He eyed his jersey, the number six hanging proudly on a hanger, and he smiled to himself but turned to his skates next. The jersey sent his heart leaping into his throat. He’d save it for last.

“Let’s go boys,” Pascal called, standing by the door to bump fists and pat helmets on their way out.

Remus laced up his skates, pulling them tight over his taped up socks, and then, finally, removed his jersey from its hook. He didn’t waste time staring down at it. That would just make him overthink and, hopefully, he’d have many times to put this jersey on again.

It slid over his shoulder pads, he tucked in the back, and grabbed his helmet.

“I like that Loops is just over there grinning to himself,” Finn snorted as he left for the tunnel.

Remus shrugged, eyes finding Sirius. He already looked like his mind was on the ice, even for such a low stakes game.

“You know,” Remus said as the team started to file down the tunnel. “I used to go last.”

Sirius’ intense eyes lightened into a softer gray. He shifted from one skate to another. “Oh? I don’t know if I knew that.”

Remus tilted his head, smile playing at one corner of his mouth. “Well? What are we gonna do?”

Sirius just stared at him. “I… I go last.”

Remus let out his laughter, leaning up to tap their helmets together. He vaguely heard a camera flash go off, and smiled. He wanted that picture.

“You should have seen your face, baby,” he whispered, and grabbed his stick from the rack before catching up to James.

He heard Sirius splutter out a laugh—and there was definitely some relief in there—and follow.

The sounds of the crowd in Hogwarts stadium only grew louder. Remus could feel Sirius close behind him.

“Ready, mon loup?” he asked quietly, just before the tunnel opened up to the lights.

Remus didn’t know if Sirius heard his yes over the roar of the team’s entry into a sea of red and gold, but then feet were on the ice he was doing a lap, the Rangers at the other end.

On opening night, Remus knew he would be taking this lap alone, along with Cole. A rookie’s first official NHL game. It felt surreal to think about. He couldn’t knock the feeling that he was too old for that—but he knew plenty of guys did it at his age. You didn’t have to be eighteen.

He picked up a puck and headed towards the goal, trying to decide if it would help to block out the noise, or let it overtake him. The boys were dialed in. Remus glanced over at Sirius, feeling strangely bare without him by his side. But he was over by center ice, tracing the Lion printed there—as usual. Remus didn’t want to seem favored. He didn’t want to seem clingy. They weren’t a couple out here, he knew that. They were teammates.

He shot at Kasey, who caught his puck in his glove, and began the wrap-around again before pushing backwards around the outside of the goal, as he always used to. He’d done his routine a few times at the beginning of practices, but it was nothing compared to being surrounded by a crowd—a bigger crowd than he’d ever actually played in front of before.

Kasey tapped a puck at him once he reached his first post, and he laughed, shooting it back until a sign waving at the glass caught his eye. It was held by a kid, maybe around Julian’s age.

I want a signed stick the ReMOST, Lupin!

Remus laughed at the kid’s wide eyes when he saw that he was looking, and gave him a thumbs up the best he could with his gloves on before holding up his stick.

“One second,” he called over the crowd.

When he got to the bench, Sirius was there stretching, holding out an already uncapped sharpie.

And looks like Lupin’s heading over to sign that young man a stick. I bet that’s a good feeling after—oh! Black’s got a pen ready for him.

Remus shoved a glove under his arm and took it. “You saw the sign?”

“I got the kid down to the glass,” Sirius grinned.

“I love you,” Remus said as he scribbled his signature, complete with the jersey number that players always included.

It took two tries to get the stick successfully over the glass, but for the look on the boy’s face, Remus would have tried twenty.

“Feels good, eh?” James said once the horn blew for warmups and they were settled onto the bench.

“Too good,” Remus said.

“First line,” Coach called, slapping his calling card against his palm. “12, 10, 7, let’s go. Olli, Tims, on D.”

Sirius sent him a quick smile, and Remus spun his stick in front of him. “Let’s go, Captain.”

Sirius snorted, rolling his eyes as he pushed away from the boards towards center ice, where Zibanejad was waiting.

Good to see that sort of…what would you call it, Dean, from Black?

Light energy, I think, Lee. Sirius is well known around the league for his intensity.

Right. Nice to see Lupin getting a smile out of him before what is most probably a season that holds more pressure than usual for the Lions, after a Cup year.

One of Black’s coaches once said in an interview that the only thing Sirius feels after scoring a goal is pressure to score another. Ha, sounds about right.

Remus all but held his breath when the ref dropped the puck. Sirius stole it back for James who nicked it over to Logan. Logan sped it into the neutral zone, narrowly avoiding Lafrenière.

“Bulky kid,” Finn said from beside Remus.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Logan?”

“Well—yeah, but nah, Lafrenière,” Finn nodded. “Built like a tree, what is he, nineteen? Crazy. I didn’t look like that when I was nineteen.”

“Well,” Remus said as the whistle blew for an icing on the Rangers. “People are comparing him to Crosby.”

“Kuny,” Coach called. “Lupin, Nado.”

Remus’ initial thought was surprise. The shock of being put out with the second line carried him somewhat numbly over the boards beside Evgeni and Jackson. He didn’t have time to look at Sirius take his place on the bench.

“Hey,” Evgeni said, drawing them in with a glove over his mouth so the Rangers filing out of their bench couldn’t read their lips. “I take Lindgren. Loops, go fast, okay? Nado get you puck.”

“Fox,” Jackson warned.

“Sergei take care,” Evgeni said like it was obvious, and loomed towards the face-off circle.

“Left side,” Remus said to Jackson before they parted. “I’ll try to shake Kravtsov.”

“Nice,” Jackson nodded.

Remus and Kravtsov shared a nod as they lined up shoulder to shoulder on the centerline.

“Welcome to the NHL,” Kravtsov said with a slight smile.

“Thanks,” Remus replied.

Kravtsov was so young. All of these guys were so young.

He couldn’t help feeling like time had been stolen from him.

Have you ever seen this many Russian players in one NHL game, Dean? Pretty nice to see. And here’s Lupin’s first shift. Let’s go.

The puck dropped and Remus gave Kravtsov a shove, spinning out and around him. His heart seemed to press the sound out of his ears until all he could hear was his own breathing. Evgeni won the face off.

“Kuns!” Jackson shouted, and Evgeni passed it to him deep in their own zone. It drew Fox forward, just as Remus knew it was meant to, but Sergei was there for Jackson to derail the puck. Fox was forced to turn around, Kravtsov was made to press forward for a pass, and it left Remus free to shoot into their defense zone. Strome tried to cross him, but Remus spun around him. Sergei and Jackson tried to get it to him, but it left the zone. Remus swore as he pushed hard to touch up the neutral zone.

“6, 58, 86, off, Reyes, O’Hara, LeBlanc, on!”

Remus pulled back to the bench, sending Cole a nod as he hopped over the boards for his first NHL shift. Remus’ shift had been thirty seconds that felt like ten, but he was breathing hard. Finn followed Cole with a tap to his back, promptly stole the puck from Chytil, and slapped it into the corner of the Rangers’ goal.

Remus had barely taken a drink of water when the goal horn blared Gryffindor’s roar filled Hogwarts Stadium.

He punched Sirius’ side, who had his arms raised. Sirius laughed from beside him as they settled onto the bench beside each other.

“Ouch,” Sirius rubbed his padding.

“I don’t know, I got excited,” Remus laughed.

They held his gloves out for Finn to tap as he came down the line, the goal song blaring, the crowd chanting along to the catchy drumbeat.

“Nice solo, Harz,” Remus called, and Finn grinned.

“Thanks, Rookie.”

It remained pretty even through the first and second. Panarin had three good chances, the fourth sailing past Kasey’s glove. Sirius scored a dirty wrap-around just before the second’s buzzer, and Remus didn’t think he’d ever like anything more than getting the full force of Sirius’ smile as he tapped gloves down the bench line. No sooner had the final face-off of the period set up than were Evgeni and Lindgren going at it, hands gripping the back of each other’s jerseys as they dropped their gloves. Gryffindor would start the third one man up.

Remus filed back down the tunnel towards the locker room, smiling at Layla as he dropped his gloves in the bucket she was holding to be dried. He felt warm, his muscles used and a little sore. He longed for an ice bath, but he wanted to use them more too. It was the most familiar feeling in the word. He smiled against it as he sat down in his stall, laughing lightly at the way Evgeni threw a wet towel over his head.

“Not skate enough over the summer,” Evgeni groaned.

Remus looked up when a shadow fell over him and was greeted by two hands on his cheeks and a warm, familiar kiss.

“J’adore,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, holding his wrists where his pulse still high from the game.

“Nice goal.”

“Good to be back,” James said as he pushed his jersey over his head. “Crowd sounds amazing. How you doing, Reyes?”

Cole looked up from where he was re-taping his socks. “The crowd is amazing.”

Remus felt a slap on the back from Evgeni, towel around his neck now. “Good shift, rookie.”

“Kuns,” Remus sighed, and Evgeni just laughed teasingly.

Remus felt Sirius’ eyes on him throughout the entire intermission. He knew he was curious, and had been for months, about Remus’ game routine. He’d asked and asked over the summer, but that was the thing with Remus’ superstitions—he couldn’t talk about them.

Remus took two fresh sticks from his rack and sat back down. He began wrapping it steadily.

“Of course your tape job is perfect,” Thomas sighed, shaking his head. “Of course, of course.”

Remus laughed, ripping the tape with his teeth.

“Speak for yourself,” Jackson grinned, giving his stick a twirl, the tape warped and hurried.

Remus snorted. “All I see is a fucking candy cane.”

Power play. Lindgren went into the box, slamming the door a little too hard on his way.

“Black,” Coach called as the crowd shuffled into their seats, armed with food, and Remus had been expecting that. “Tremzy, Lupin, Fox, Sunny.”

Remus blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that.

Remus hopped the boards beside Sirius, and the stadium seemed to get louder. Sirius knocked their shoulders together, and Remus didn’t doubt the cameras were on them and he tried to control his expression. He didn’t want to look too pleased, or too dopy at the feeling of skating side by side with Sirius in front of a crowd.

I think this is the moment many of us have been waiting for, Dean.

You bet! I didn’t expect it to come so soon. Coach Weasley is trying out lots of different line combos tonight. What’s pre-season for? I hear Lupin’s played on the power play a few times in practice.

Sirius put his glove up by his mouth, holding his mouth guard.

“Try the double pass?” he said quickly.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Sirius bent down across from Zibanejad and the rest of the Rangers penalty kill unit.

It happened fast. Remus was used to seeing this from the bench—but maybe that was a good thing. He saw the ice as if through a wide lens, Sirius passed to Logan, and then it was on Remus’ stick to carry up. Remus blew out a breath, pushing his legs hard ahead of Panarin. He needed to get ahead, needed to stay parallel with Sirius. He felt Panarin scrape at his heels, but then Sirius was calling his name.

Shesterkin was still up and on his feet, reading to dive whichever way.

“Loup,” Sirius called, and it was as though it was only the two of them in the basement rink. Only the crowd was different, and absolutely roaring.

Remus snapped the puck to Sirius, who passed it right back. Shesterkin went down when Remus pulled his stick back in a fake, only for him to give it back to Sirius to tap into wide open net.

Remus’ hands shot up, and the crowd screamed. Sirius all but slammed into him, wrapping him up tight against the boards.

“Re,” Sirius laughed through he words, pressing their helmets together. “Mon loup, mon loup—”

Logan crashed into them next, followed by Adam and Henrik. Remus found himself in the center of elated shouts, the fans pounding hands on the glass from the other side.

“Merde, it sounds like the playoffs,” Logan shouted, pressing a hand to Remus’ helmet.

Remus could only laugh, giddy, high on it all.

What a goal! Well, Lee, I don’t think we’re going to have to wait long to see this young man’s first regular season point.

“He fell for it,” Remus said for the tenth time as he handed Sirius the last of their dinner dishes. “Shesterkin fell for it.”

Sirius laughed and slid the dishes into the sink and turned, placing slightly damp hands on Remus’ cheeks.

“You are amazing,” he said, accent heavy and laced with a need that Remus had felt stirring in himself since getting off the ice. They’d been on the ice together today. They’d built a goal together, scored. Igor Shesterkin had fallen for their fake-out.

“I was so happy today,” Sirius whispered.

Remus closed his eyes, caught between the feeling of Sirius’ body colliding with his own in celebration, and the feeling of his warm hands here, now.

“It’s everything I’ve ever wanted,” Remus said softly, and opened his eyes, hands against Sirius’ chest.

What a terrifying, wonderful sentence.

Sirius just leaned in to kiss him, mouth tender and insistent. It was the same fire he had on the ice, leading Remus in a way that made his insides warm and his toes curl. Remus let Sirius guide him slowly up the stairs, and he relished in the way they stopped on the landing, on a half-way stair, just to be closer again, Remus’ mouth on his neck, Sirius’ against his temple. The hallway was dark, lit only by the nightlight they kept plugged in near their feet. It cast Sirius in warm angles as Remus tugged his shirt off and dropped it right there in the hallway.

“I’m not saying I’m not going to miss Regulus,” Remus said as Sirius bent to mouth gently against his neck. “But I’m not saying I’m not going to enjoy being able to undress you wherever I want now that we have the house to ourselves.”

Sirius’ laugh was soft, a little breathless. “Name your room, I’ll be there.”

Remus laughed, too. “Bedroom. Nice, soft bed.”

Sirius walked Remus backwards through the door, hands on his hips. “How do you feel? That was quite the race with Kreider in the second.”

“Good,” Remus nodded, but let Sirius’ strong hands dig into the muscles of his shoulders and back. He sighed into it, resting his cheek against his chest. “But I won’t say no to that.”

Sirius kissed Remus’ temple and worked his shirt over his head. He lay him down on the mattress and Remus closed his eyes at the feeling of Sirius’ lips against his neck, and then his shoulder.

Sirius kissed over the scar that Greyback had torn from Remus’ body all those years ago at their shared college, keeping Remus from a career in the NHL—at least until now.

“I wonder what he thinks,” Remus wondered aloud, and he didn’t have to explain himself for Sirius to know what he meant. Remus wound his fingers into Sirius dark hair as he looked up at him.

“Me too,” Sirius admitted. “And then I see red and have to stop thinking about it.”

Remus half-smiled. “Yeah…I felt bad at lunch those few weeks ago. With Cole. I really think he thought he said something wrong, and I wish I could explain but it’s still…it’s still like this weird secret, you know? Like people could find out if they really looked but no one has? And I don’t really want to bring it up but at the same time I know Fenrir has already spread lies. Saying it was a car crash or…who knows what. Sorry.” Remus pressed a hand to his face. “God, I’m completely killing the mood.”

“Re, hey,” Sirius pushed himself up onto his forearm, falling to the side and keeping their legs tangled.

“And it’s such a good mood, I just was thinking aloud.”

“You’re not. Talk to me. You can talk to me whenever.”

Remus ran his thumb over Sirius’ bottom lip. “Okay…yeah, I know that.”

“This was a big day,” Sirius said. “Huge for you. Of course you would be thinking about him. I used to think about my parents every time I stepped on the ice, even after things were getting better. I think…I think its just time. It takes time.”

“It was strange today,” Remus finally admitted. “I couldn’t…I didn’t know how close to you I could be. Out there, I mean. I’m your boyfriend, you’re mine, but we’re also teammates. There’s so much debate, about my place on the team and if you did something to get me there…I don’t know. I don’t want someone to accuse you of favoritism. You don’t deserve that.”

“We’re both,” Sirius said. “We’ll always be both. You’ll always be the boy I love. You’ll always be my teammate.” Sirius shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if we’re on the ice or not. And I don’t care if someone thinks I favor you. We both know I don’t. Not like that.”

Remus made a soft sound and pulled Sirius further on top of him, making him smile. “Love you.”

Sirius let Remus press slow kisses to his lips. “This mood feels pretty good to me.”

Remus just hushed him, tucking a hand into his waistband.

Sirius kissed him until Remus’ cheeks were hot and his cock was aching, pressed up against his sweatpants. Remus could still hear the Lions’ crowd rushing in his ears. Sirius’ palm cupped him and pushed his sweatpants down. They were both flushed and pink. Remus wanted to see those colors together.

He pulled Sirius’ hips against his own, discarding clothing until it was all bare skin. Remus ran his hands over the hard curves of his back. He had to squeeze his eyes shut, hooking his arms beneath Sirius’, holding onto his shoulders.

Their mouths found each other messily, dragging and half open in gasps.

“Sirius,” Remus breathed, voice higher than usual.

The adrenaline that Remus had thought had faded with the game only seemed to thrum brighter. Remus couldn’t help the smile the crossed his face, brows drawn together at the feeling of Sirius rutting against him.

Remus pressed his ankle gently to the back of Sirius’ knee and rolled them, drawing breathless laughs from both their mouths that he sealed away to keep like a love letter. It was soft mouths and hard hands, clutching each other closer, getting the most out of the warm friction. Remus swallowed Sirius’ gasps. His orgasm built up below his spine and Sirius seemed to read his mind. He reached between them with a hand, brushing a thumb at his base, pressing up. Remus’ hips stuttered and he fell apart, shoving hard against Sirius’ tight fist.

Sirius followed at the hot streak of Remus’ come between them, and they lay there, panting, foreheads together. Remus eased their hips back together, both of them letting out a soft moan, then a laugh, as the spent cocks brushed, drawing out the last tendrils of their orgasms.

“That feels good,” Sirius mumbled, head sunken back against the pillows.

Remus rolled his hips slowly, bringing them down, and then pulled his head up. He pushed Sirius’ sweaty hair back from his cheek and kissed it.

“Communicate to score,” Sirius mumbled.

Remus laughed hard, squeezing his eyes shut, and dropped his face into his neck to catch his breath.

“It’s true,” Sirius said, running a warm palm up and down Remus’ back. “That article we looked at.”

They’d given in and read some press over dinner, laughing at some of the more excitable writers, and grinning at each other at the more serious ones.

Magnetism, one wrote. Feels like we’ve got some mind-readers on this team, a real Crosby-Malkin, Kane-Toews one-two-punch.

“Well,” Remus said, folding his arms across Sirius’ chest. “What am I thinking now?”

Sirius pressed his lips together, pretending to think. “Is it…how to get out of golf with James and the Cubs before the ring ceremony on Tuesday?”

Remus snorted. “Well, that’s definitely on my list. But nope.” He leaned in, brushing their mouths together. “That’s not it.”

Sirius grinned, and Remus sunk into how thick and sated his accent sounded. “Is it…will my handsome boyfriend please run me a bath and make me tea?”

Remus laughed into their next kiss. “Wow, that writer was right.”

It looks…maybe like a twisted knee? What do you think, Dean? Walker is definitely not making a move to get up—oh, there’s the medic. One of the Lions’ new staff members as, of course, someone had to take Lupin’s place. Ah, Walker is pointing to his foot now.

Man, is that a grimace if I ever saw one.

It sure is, Dean.

Here comes O’Hara to help out his teammate.

They were in Madison Square Garden, the Rangers giving them one hell of a re-match. Logan skated a close perimeter towards where Thomas had gone down, just between a line change.

“Shit,” Finn skated to a stop beside him. “It’s fucking pre-season. Did you see what happened?”

Logan shook his head. “Not really. Think it was just a bad fall. Strome looks sorry.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re not jumping him right now.”

Logan’s mouth quirked up. “I have no interest in jumping Strome, thanks.” His eyes found Leo on the bench. With his hat flipped backwards, the intensity, the worry in of his blue eyes cut a clear path to Thomas.

“T,” Finn said, skating closer. “Need a hand to the room?”

Thomas winced as he made it to one knee. “Yeah, man, thanks.”

Thomas stared up at the dark ceiling from the padded PT table, listening to the game continue on the TV mounted to the corner of the ceiling. There was the X-ray pushed to the corner, his results pinned up on the light screen. Fracture. Minor, but it’d take weeks to heal. He’d miss the beginning of the season. He’d be in a suit when they lifted the Stanley Cup champion banner in the stadium. He missed Noelle.

The light flicked on so suddenly Thomas flinched.

“Walker,” said an unfamiliar voice. It was accented—Swedish, he thought. Thomas squinted at the speaker. He was tall, and dressed in the staff jacket he’d come to associate with Remus. Right. Lars.

“I…hey,” Thomas said. His eyes went to Layla, who gave a wave as she slipped in behind the man. “Hey, man, Lars, right?”

Lars gave a short nod. “Nice to meet you. So, you probably know the drill by now. Couple weeks. Aspirin will be fine for pain management.”

“Right,” Thomas nodded.

“We’ve got a boot for you here, but I’d take everything to a doctor, just for a second opinion. I’ll recommend someone,” he shrugged. “That was an unlucky hit. I’m sorry.”

Thomas blinked. He didn’t know someone could seem sweetly uninterested. He smiled hesitantly. “Thanks.”

Thomas snapped a picture of the boot once he strapped it on and sent it out complete with a frowning emoji.

He had just opened the door to the locker room, accompanied by his new crutches and to meet his victorious team, when his phone began to ring with a Facetime.

“T,” Noelle’s voice gasped. She was beautiful, her hair curling around her face. “Baby, I saw.”

“It’s not too bad,” Thomas said beneath the noise as the locker room filled up. “You look like you’re about to go somewhere, I can call back, I just wanted to…”

I’m just sad about it. It sounded lame in his own ears.

He cleared his throat. “Logan, say hi to your sister.”

Logan poked his head into the frame and stuck his tongue out, then left.

“Lolo!” Noelle shouted for the locker room to hear, and Logan groaned.

“Lolo,” Kasey imitated, grinning, and Logan shoved his mask down over his face.

“How is it?” Finn asked, wrapping an arm around him. “Hi, Noelle.”

“Fractured. Couple weeks.”

“Damn,” Finn sighed. “Sorry, T. That was an—”

“unlucky hit,” Thomas laughed. “Preach.”

“Hey, baby, we’re all heading to grab some food, but call you tonight?”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He tried not to feel lonely as the screen went dark. He was in a room surrounded by people. People he loved.

It crept in anyway.

275 notes · View notes

oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

Text

sweet creature

pairing: Hajime Iwaizumi x fem! reader

warnings: swearing, a little bit suggestive

genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates (?)

word count: ~2k

synopsis: Tying the tie between you and him took longer than it should have.

a/n: hi hi! here is some well over due fluff for you all!! this isn’t directly based off of the song ‘sweet creature’ but i felt it fit the vibes and since the song makes a little appearance ;) [ also shoutout to the anon who wanted some iwaizumi fluff <3 ] reblogs are greatly appreciated! enjoy xx

Looking back at it all, you never expected things to turn out the way they did. You never expected to find yourself in love with him. It was cliche, cheesy even. Everyone around you saw it before you did, saying you two were soulmates. In reality you were just clueless kids, unable to see that the universe had put you together perfectly. You needed him, no matter what form of him. He was your best friend after all, and a platonic soulmate was still good enough in your eyes.

But no, you were destined for something more.

Iwaizumi Hajime and you were two peas in a pod. From elementary school to now, you and him were inseparable. Scraping your knees together, attending everyone of his volleyball matches, you were always by each other’s side. It was no wonder why people assumed you were dating. Iwaizumi’s face would flush pink every time, insisting that the two of you were just really close friends. You would whisper in agreement, every time.

Was it wrong of you to want to be more?

It was the last week of high school, graduation just days away. You were over at Iwaizumi’s house as usual. You laid on his bed as he rummaged through his closet.

“Did you figure out what you are wearing for graduation?” he asked. You looked up from your phone.

“I think just a dress? I have two to pick from that I bought,” you explained.

“Okay, what colors are they?”

“One is blue and the other is white. Why?”

“I thought I could match my tie to your dress,” he said. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, o-okay.”

Iwaizumi grabbed a few button downs from his closet and laid them down on his bed, followed by the ties he owned.

“Help me pick.” You moved to the edge of the bed, scanning the clothes.

“I like the blue tie with the light grey shirt. You’d look like a waiter if you wore the black shirt and white tie,” you chuckled. Hajime huffed.

“Alright alright.”

Iwa grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Your eyes darted to the floor.

“Uh what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna try it on dummy. I have to make sure it actually looks good,” he laughed. You looked back up at him. His perfectly chiseled figure standing before you as he tried to button up the shirt. You prayed that he couldn’t see that you were terribly flustered.

“These damn ties…” Iwaizumi groaned as he attempted to tie it. You chuckled.

“Come here.”

You hopped off the bed and stood close to Iwa, helping fix his tie.

“What are you gonna do when you go to college and I’m not gonna be there to tie your ties?” you smiled.

“I’ll call you and force you to come over and tie it for me.”

“I’ve been tying your ties since we were kids. I thought you would’ve learned by now.”

“Why would I bother learning when you can do it for me?” he teased. You chuckled.

“There, perfect.” You flatted the tie down, smiling.

“Thanks Y/N.”

You tilted your head back up, locking eyes with Hajime. You could stare into his eyes for hours, no issue. He chuckled.

“What are you staring at, huh?” Your face grew hot and you turned back around.

“Nothing…”

As the night drew on, you found yourself back at your place. Even though Iwa was just a house away, you wished you were still with him. You peaked out your window, hoping to see Iwa looking out of his. His curtains were open but the lights were off. You assumed that he was with Oikawa.

You looked at the calendar pinned to your wall. Two days of high school left. It was a strange feeling. The mix of anticipation and nervousness all into one. You were excited for summer. Day in and day out you could be spending time with Iwaizumi, just like every summer before. Of course, you’d much rather spend summer with him a little differently, but you knew that was unlikely.

You heard the familiar buzz of your cell phone, as the ringtone began to play. Your face lit up, as you recognized the noise. Only one person in your phone had this ringtone.

“Hello?”

“Window-”

The call ended quickly. You smiled, rushing to your window and opening it up.

“HI Y/N!” shouted Oikawa. You chuckled.

“How was studying?” you asked. Iwa sighed.

“This idiot barely finished his chemistry. He was busy blabbing about his graduation party.”

“I expect you to be there Y/N!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s this Saturday right?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to have mine on the same day as yours and Iwa-chan’s,” explained Oikawa.

“Good choice,” teased Hajime. You and Iwa decided to do a small party for graduation together. Just family and close friends.

“Hey show me your dress,” insisted Iwaizumi. You grinned, heading to your closet and picking it out. Due to Iwaizumi’s blue tie, you decided to go with the blue dress.

“Woah there Y/N, you’re gonna take Iwa-chan’s breath away-”

“SHUT IT SHIT HEAD-,” Iwa smacked Oikawa upside the head, “don’t you have to go home?”

Oikawa checked his watch, before scrambling to get his things.

“Shit my mom’s gonna kill me- BYE!”

You chuckled, looking back at Iwaizumi. He cleared his throat.

“You’re gonna look beautiful Y/N.”

You tried to hold back your smile, but the heat rising in your face made it nearly impossible.

“Thank you.”

“I mean, you always are beautiful, but that dress might just set a new record for you,” he smirked. You pressed your lips together.

“Iwa…”

“Well we should both get some sleep,” he said. You nodded.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Hajime.”

You closed your window, then your curtains. You placed your dress back on a hanger, before plopping onto your bed. You felt all giddy inside, like a little kid. The butterflies in your stomach could fill an entire room. Did he mean those words in a ‘best friend’ sort of way? He had to, right? In all honesty you didn’t care about the context. After all, he still said it. Your smile was the same regardless.

“Smile you two!”

Iwaizumi’s mother had been taking pictures for the last thirty minutes, and you were honestly getting a little exhausted from posing.

“Mom that's enough-”

“One more! Hajime, stand behind Y/N.”

Iwa sighed. He did as he was told, moving behind you. He placed his large hands onto your waist, hugging you from behind. You tried not to react, still smiling at the camera.

“Okay okay now look at each other.”

You looked at Iwa, staring into those deep dark eyes. His face was so close to yours, you could smell the mint he had earlier.

“I’m sorry about this,” he mumbled. You giggled.

“It's okay.”

“Alright I got all the pictures I need.”

You keep looking at him, but more relaxed. Iwa didn’t move a muscle, as if he didn’t wish to let go of you. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or not, but you swore that Iwa looked as if he was leaning in to-

“ALRIGHTY LETS GO! Grad party time!” cheered Oikawa. You and Iwa broke away from each other. You cupped your burning face as he cleared his throat.

“Y-Yeah lets go.”

You all headed to the Iwaizumi residence. There, you opened graduation gifts, jokes with friends, and even reminisced a bit on yours and Hajime’s childhood.

“I remember when you would make me catch bugs with you all the time! I hated doing that,” you joked.

“Okay but I always let the bugs go, didn’t I?”

“Aw Iwa-chan can’t hurt a fly-”

“But I can hurt you-”

“WAIT-”

You watched as Iwa and Oikawa fought as if they were kids before going to grab something to drink.

The night escalated to Toru finding the old karaoke machine and challenging Makki to a sing-off (which he declined). You sat on the couch with Iwa as the commotion in the room elevated.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” he asked you. You let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

Hajime opened the door to his room, allowing you inside. He shut it, helping to keep things quieter.

“Wait a minute-”

You rushed over to the corner of his room.

“You can play the guitar?”

You picked up the instrument and examined it carefully. The guitar didn’t look new. In fact, it had to be a few years old.

Iwa took the guitar from your hands, holding it to his chest as his face grew in color.

“I-I can’t really play…”

“I have known you my entire life yet I never knew you had a guitar. Guess I’m a pretty shitty friend.”

“No not at all. I just- I don’t tell people that I can play…” he mumbled. You smiled, taking a step towards him.

“Could you play something for me? I won’t tell.”

Iwa looked at you, his eyes widened. He swallowed harshly.

“Of course.”

The two of you sat down on his bed. Hajime began to tune the guitar, his hands a little shaky. You placed your hand on his cheek. He looked at you intently.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I kinda put you on the spot there…”

“No I want to...I have a song in mind that I’ve been meaning to play for you.”

You smiled, nodding. You took your hand away, placing it back in your lap. Iwa took a deep breath, before carefullying picking at the strings.

He played a calming melody, one that you’ve heard before. Your heart melted the minute you realized what song he played.

“Sweet creature...had another talk about where it's going wrong…”

His voice was low and quiet, yet smooth and soft. You tried to hold back a smile and a few tears.

“I know when we started, just two hearts in one home…”

He sang to you. He was playing for you. Pleading that you understood what he was trying to say. Everyone fights, everyone has disagreements, it’s normal in every relationship. It was as if the letters of the lyrics were rearranged to say: “lets just try”.

You two would be leaving for university soon, that was inevitable. However, Iwaizumi never felt happier than when he was by your side.

“When I run out of road, you bring me home.”

Hajime played the final cord, before falling silent.

“Haj-”

“I know how to tie my ties. I just say I don’t so that you’ll do it for me. So that you’ll stand a little closer to me. So that I can smell the same perfume that you’ve worn since middle school. So that I can look into your eyes, and see the world within them. I’ve known how to tie my own ties since I was eight years old, but that's also the same age that I realized that I was in love with you.”

You couldn't seem to find the words. Your mouth hung open a bit, causing Iwa to get even more nervous. He set the guitar down on the floor, before burying his hands in his face.

“God I’m such an idiot-”

You took Iwaizumi’s hands and moved them from his face.

“Look Y/N I-”

He was unable to finish his sentence, as you had crashed your lips into his. His eyes were wide before he shut them tightly, cupping your face and kissing you hungrily. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through is dark hair. Iwa couldn’t seem to get enough, bringing you impossibly closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

“Hajime…” you whispered, catching your breath. Iwa placed another peck on your lips.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

You were shaking, the familiar sensation of nervousness and anticipation rushed through your veins. Iwaizumi took your hand, placing a kiss on top of it.

“I love you.”

Looking back at it all, you should’ve known it was bound to happen. Maybe it was the fear of rejection that blinded you from the truth. Maybe you had to hear that it might not always be easy in order to realize that it was still worth it. It certainly was worth the risk. Love is the strongest adhesive, keeping people together no matter distance, disagreements, or destiny. Luck for you and Hajime, your destiny was the one you had always hoped for.

[general taglist: @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful @katlingclaw ]

127 notes · View notes

dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

And Dusk

A/N: I just wrote the penultimate chapter and oh my, is it long

Warnings: racial discrimination

Word Count: 3131

—————————————

Chapter 5: The Swedish Job

(Y/N) wheezed as the coral dress she had just slipped into squeezed her ribcage so tight, she was beginning to see stars. Grace nodded in acknowledgement before shaking her head at the tailor. The woman at the girl’s side frowned slightly. “Are you sure, ma’am? I can touch it up so that it wouldn’t squeeze her so much.”

“I’m quite sure. It isn’t a good color for her.” Grace waved her hand in dismissal. Once the dress had been removed, (Y/N) greedily inhaled as much oxygen as she could into her lungs. When the tailor walked away to retrieve another dress from the hanger rack, the girl leaned over, bracing her hands on her knees.

“Mom, this is the… fifth dress now,” She breathed. “How many more of these do I need to try on?”

“Hun, I just want you to look perfect. Preston already has his suit picked out and it’d be nice if you two would match-”

“Wait,” The girl waved her hands in the air. “Preston?”

Grace frowned. “Yes, Preston.”

“But I just went on a date with him! I have to see him all the time?!”

“If you’re gonna marry him, then yes!”

(Y/N) groaned and rubbed her face with both her hands as the tailor returned to her side with a baby blue dress. Grace shook her head in distaste before it could even be tried on and motioned for another one to be picked out. Huffing, (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled to herself, eliciting a soft laugh from her mother. “You’ll be fine, (Y/N), the four of us are arrivin’ at the gala together. Now, doesn’t that sound a little better?”

The girl hesitated at first, but nodded. “Yeah, I guess it does…” She whispered before the tailor was slipping her into another dress. This one was chiffon and orange, flower designs starting from the torso and spreading up the chest, and out to the see-through sleeves. Grace squealed and circled her index finger in the air.

“Go ‘head and twirl for me, darlin’.” She clapped as (Y/N) bashfully smiled and spun in a circle for her mother. “It’s beautiful! Perfect! We’ll have this one!” She vigorously nodded, the tailor visibly sagging in relief. (Y/N) let out a sigh and chuckled at her mother’s excitement. She had to admit, though, it was a beautiful dress. Perhaps not one she would wear if she was in her actual body, but it was fitting for her physical age. Once the tailor packed up and left their home, Grace let (Y/N) change back into her casual clothing before guiding her downstairs. “Time for dancin’ lessons.”

Entering the parlor, (Y/N) was greeted by her dance instructor and Preston. Smiling tightly, she stepped lightly into the middle of the floor with the boy.

“Let’s pick up where we left off, children.” The instructor’s flowy voice sounded as he put on a record for the music. In preparation of the gala, Reginald insisted they practice with Mariachi music, much to Preston’s distaste. The boy rolled his eyes behind their instructor’s back as the music began to flow throughout the house. He slyly slipped his arm around (Y/N)’s waist and took one of her hands in his. With a sigh, the girl placed her free hand on his shoulder. “And… one, two, three, one, two, three, one- No,” The instructor cut himself off and marched up to the two. “Ms Hargreeves, you do not lead. Mr Hildebrand must lead.”

“Sorry.” She whispered as he stepped back. Preston quietly chuckled at her in a mocking manner that had her clenching her jaw. If he had known the first thing about dancing, I wouldn’t need to lead, she thought to herself as their feet began moving again.

“One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two- Mr Hildebrand, focus on your partner! Dance is about the emotion, do not stare at your feet. Are you going to the gala with your feet?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Diego was a better partner than him…

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

“Number Four, on my count!” Reginald clapped his hands, alerting thirteen-year-olds Klaus and (Y/N). The two nearly fell over at the abrupt stop Klaus came to, causing them to snort and hold onto each other for dear life. “If you two will not cooperate, then Number Eight will exchange partners! Again!”

As the music started up again, Klaus led their dance in long strides and animated sways that had them nearly knocking into Allison and Ben. The incorrect footing the two had been using the entire time eventually caught up to them when (Y/N) accidentally stepped on her brother’s toes, the boy yelping out and stumbling to the ground, dragging her down with him. Their laughs filled the room, too loud to hear the scratching stop of the record.

“Number Four! Number Eight! This is unacceptable behavior!”

Their laughter subsided at their father’s scolding. They scrambled to their feet as he stomped over, hands behind his back. “Number Four, to your seat. Number Two, you are now Number Eight’s partner!”

(Y/N) squeezed Klaus’s arm as the boy covered his smile with his hand and did as he was told. She smiled at Diego as he stiffly approached her, fists clenching and unclenching. Once he was close enough, he placed a hand on his sister’s waist and held her hand in his other one, her free hand taking position on his shoulder. The entire time they danced, Diego was rigid. He didn’t flow with the music and always let (Y/N) take the lead, much to Reginald’s annoyance. No matter how many times they were stopped, no matter how many times (Y/N) tried to reassure him that he was fine, the boy was as stiff as a board. Shaking his head, Reginald stopped the music again.

“Number Five, take Number Two’s place.” He demanded. Diego deflated and quickly detached himself from (Y/N) before returning to his seat beside Klaus. Five smirked as he hopped up from his seat, approaching (Y/N) and swiftly bringing her into position, heat rushing to her cheeks at their proximity. Reginald was much more pleased with this partnership, and it was no wonder why. The two moved perfectly, they were on count, and refused to falter for even a second. (Y/N) was easily impressed by Five’s suave manners, the way he smugly smirked at her the entire time. She could only shake her head in amusement at this new demeanor. Five was becoming cockier the older he got.

(Y/N) felt the fire of their dance as they spun, twisted and twirled all around. They were the perfect team gliding past the other two pairs that were Allison and Ben, and Luther and Vanya. They were an unstoppable force, and not just on the dancefloor. To their father, mainly because he couldn’t have imagined it any other way, he assumed the giddy smiles on his children’s faces were due to the excitement of their accomplishment. But their siblings knew all too well that those looks were only reserved for each other. Reginald couldn’t clean his monocle enough to see such a relationship blossoming between them. Not even when Five ended the dance with expertly dipping (Y/N) slowly, their eyes latched onto each other as he slowly brought her back up. They were grinning widely at each other as they separated, feeling their burning cheeks as they tried to catch their breath from the intensity of the dance. When they turned to Reginald, he simply nodded in approval.

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

So, as (Y/N) waltzed with Preston, perfectly in time with the music and gliding along the floor with grace, she felt nothing and did not smile in exhilaration.

Once the lesson concluded and the instructor took his leave, Preston turned to (Y/N) and gently lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a wet kiss to her knuckles. Inwardly grimacing, the girl forced a thin-lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes to stretch across her face. She watched him with a scowl as he swaggered his way out of the parlor and to the front door, just as Grace walked in with a mischievous grin. “My, my, you really don’t like him, do you?”

“Not a whole lot, no…” (Y/N) sighed and crossed her arms. Her mother cooed and gently rubbed her shoulder.

“Well, let’s go shoe shoppin’ to make ya feel better.”

The hustle and bustle of the town as the two walked down the sidewalk was somewhat therapeutic for them. Reginald always advised that they use the car to get any and everywhere to save time, but they didn’t see a need to rush anything. They had all of the time in the world. Or at least they had until the store closed, but it was still early in the afternoon. With linked arms, and Mr Pennycrumb in (Y/N)’s other arm, the two approached the doors to the local shoe store with breezy smiles.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The look the shopkeeper gave (Y/N) was nothing new for her as he opened the door for them. As they entered, he stared at Grace as if she had grown a head on each of her shoulders and began a trio singing group with them. “Uh… ma’am?”

“Yes?” Grace turned to him with raised brows. The shopkeeper cleared his throat nervously and motioned towards the young girl.

“She isn’t allowed in here. No colored folk in my store.”

(Y/N) was used to this treatment. She was grateful that she had her parents to shelter her when they could, but she knew her place in this timeline. So, to avoid any conflict, she began out the door. But Grace quickly grabbed her by the shoulder, all warmth from her face gone as she stepped forward. “I’m sorry? I didn’t see a ‘Whites Only’ sign on your door.”

“W-Well, yes, but it’s this entire side of the street that doesn’t allow-”

“And we could tell by the signs that so very clearly exclude my daughter simply because of the color of her skin. But you, sir, do not have a ‘Whites Only’ sign. So, I believe my baby girl is allowed to shop for a pretty pair of shoes from your establishment. Am I wrong?”

The man sighed as his expression dropped into a defeated frown. He risked a glance over at (Y/N), who was wearing a shit-eating grin. Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. “No, ma’am, you are not wrong.”

“I thought not. Now if you excuse us, we’re just goin’ to look for some shoes.”

Turning the girl around, Grace guided the two towards the back wall of the store, soothingly rubbing her arms. “I’m so sorry about that, hun…”

“It’s okay, Mom. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Of course, sweetheart. We need to fight back or else times will never change.” She squeezed the girl close in a hug, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but immediately latch onto her mother as tears welled up in her eyes.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

After they found the perfect pair of white heels, they were on their way out of the store and back on the sidewalk. They quietly giggled to each other at the memory of the shopkeeper’s glare as they paid for the very expensive shoes. Because of this, (Y/N) didn’t notice the woman walking towards them near the pet shop. When their shoulders came into contact, (Y/N)’s bag fell to the ground due to her iron grip on her puppy, shoes forgotten. “I’m so sorry!” She quickly apologized, her head snapping up to the woman, marveling at her sense of fashion. The woman was decked out in a beautiful blue dress, accompanied by the largest white pearls she had even seen. She wore long, fingerless white gloves and a white hat with a birdcage veil attached to it. Her earrings were to die for and her sunglasses gave the outfit a hint of chic. Her eyes moved past the matching white purse to the brilliantly red heels on her feet. (Y/N) was in total awe.

“Ugh, watch where you’re going!” The woman barked and snapped her head up to the young girl. “Do you have any idea- Oh! Oh… my. Hello, dear.” At the sudden change of tone, both (Y/N) and Grace frowned in confusion. “I’m so sorry, I just… you are a very beautiful young lady…”

“Uh… thank you.” She nodded as Grace stooped to pick up the bag from the ground.

“Even with the scars! Gives you a bit of an edge. What is your name, dear?”

Her slight smile faltered at the mention of her scars. “(Y/N)... (Y/N) Hargreeves.”

“And a beautiful name to match.” She grinned and turned her head to Grace. “Are you Mom?”

“I am.” Grace nodded and tugged her daughter closer.

“Keep her young and beautiful. It doesn’t usually last by the age of thirty,” She placed her cigarette holder between her lips. “Well… Ms (Y/N) Hargreeves… Perhaps I will see you around.”

A tiny growl from the girl’s arms had the woman’s eyeless smile dropping faster than anything (Y/N)’s ever seen. Mr Pennycrumb had been growling at the woman, teeth baring. The woman lifted her sunglasses and sent the dog a blue-eyed glare that had him shying away and whimpering into his owner’s arms. (Y/N) widened her eyes and stared down at her puppy in concern. The woman set her sunglasses back on her face and gained her smile yet again. “Cute dog.” She deadpanned before walking into the store.

“What a strange woman…” Grace muttered as the two watched The Handler stroll about the pet store.

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

Five watched in calm delight as the waitress poured him a fresh cup of coffee, filling it to the brim. Just as she was about to walk away, he glanced up at her. “Leave the pot, dear. Thank you.” He smiled. The woman set it down before walking away, muttering a ‘lippy little shit’ to herself. Vanya, who the boy found running from the same three gunmen as before, sat beside him with a lost look on her face.

“You gonna tell me what the hell’s going on?”

Five turned to her and decided to lay it all on her in one go, “When you were a baby, you were bought by an eccentric billionaire. He raised you in an elite academy with seven other siblings with extraordinary powers, but in the year 2019, in order to avoid the apocalypse, we jumped into a vortex and ended up scattered throughout the timeline in Dallas, Texas.” He watched patiently as Vanya slowly looked away in deep thought. “Any questions?”

“What do you mean, ‘the apocalypse’?”

Five inhaled to ready himself for another explanation. “I mean the end of the world as we know it.”

“Yeah, but how?”

His mind jumped back to the day it all happened. With he and his brothers suspended in the air, getting their literal lives sucked out of them. He thought of Vanya, blinded by her rage towards (Y/N) for some reason he didn’t even know, attacking his love directly in the face relentlessly with her bow. How she cried on the ground as her shaking limbs desperately tried to lift her body from the ground. How he could do nothing but watch. He could have turned Vanya away, could have hated her for it. But he knew deep down that he could never hate his siblings, he could never hate Vanya. Not for the life of him. Especially not when (Y/N)’s words rang in his head.

“It’s just that we’ve hurt her so much already…”

“You really don’t remember anything?” He asked instead.

“No, nothing before a month ago.” She shook her head.

“Then what do you remember?”

Vanya’s eyes strayed away from her brother in thought. “I remember… I landed in, like, a… back alley. Got hit by a car. My head was ringing like crazy. I had no idea how I got there, where I came from,” When Five didn’t respond, she asked her question again. “What causes the apocalypse?”

Vanya was unpredictable to Five at his point. She knew of her powers this time and he didn’t want to upset her. Not only because he didn’t like to upset her, but for the obvious reason that her rage ended the world in the first place. So, he lied.

“Asteroid impact. The big kaboom ends everything… Just like the one that got the dinosaurs, except way worse,” He picked up his coffee mug and stared forward. “Bad news is, it followed us here.”

Vanya stared at her brother in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘followed us’?”

“Eight days from now, the world ends in a nuclear doomsday. It’s a different disease, but… same result.” He watched as Vanya’s lips desperately tried to curl into a smile as she tilted her head.

“That can’t be right.”

“I saw it. With my own eyes,” He sighed and stared down at the counter in despair. “You were there. We all were…”

“Shit,” Vanya whispered and jumped out of her chair. “I need to make a phone call.”

“Vanya.” Five softly called as he watched her rush to the phone on the wall, dialing a number. He decided to give her the time she needed and sipped his coffee. But the cup drained faster than he expected and time was running out. Standing from his chair, he walked over to Vanya and hung up the phone. She turned to him with widened eyes.

“What the hell?!” She whispered.

“We don’t have time for this.”

“That’s my friend you just hung up on!”

Grabbing her by the shoulders, Five stared into her frightened eyes. “Listen to me. Those people from the field are coming after us. They are never going to stop. Do you understand me?” He whispered sternly and watched as she swallowed, expression softening. “We need to stick together, find the others, figure out how to stop doomsday. Whoever this person is, they can’t be more important than the end of the world.”

He immediately regretted those words. He knew it the second Vanya’s face tightened again. When she slammed the phone back onto the wall and stormed past him, he knew there were six other people he thought far more important than the end of the world. It’s why he hauled all of them along with him rather than doing the job himself. And he knew there was one of them who mattered in a whole different light. With a heavy sigh, he followed after his sister out of the diner.

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @starstormssymphony @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @sm0kingcrack @simping-4-fictional-men @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @zerocanonlywriteshit @xxeiraxx @camerondiaz48104 @isawachickeninatree @theyaremorethanjustfictional @that-can-of-fizz

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #tua #tua fanfic #tua x reader #tua five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five #number five x reader #five x reader #of starlight #and dusk

110 notes · View notes

kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Five: Like Real People Do

a/n: hellooo and welcome to the next part of ybmh!! i am sooooo excited about this next chapter (and upcoming chapters😏 ). Thank you again for all of your kind words and wonderful feedback! It's always so much fun to hear from you all, so as always, feel free to come chat in my inbox once you've finished this next part. I have a feeling there will be much to discuss👀 Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content, mentions of drowning

Word Count: 5.6k

read parts one, two, three, and four

“I’m not going,” Alani says finally, discarding the outfit in her hands onto a pile on her bed. The clock reads 7:55 pm, only five minutes before she was supposed to be at the studio. She still hadn’t selected an outfit, but her hair and makeup were still relatively intact from her shift at the café.

“You have to!” Pua whines. “You told him you would!”

“Then I’ll tell him I’m sick or something—food poisoning. Period cramps, maybe,”

She begins placing the clothes on hangers to put back in her closet, but her sister reaches for her wrists to stop her.

“You’re just nervous,” Pua says calmly, getting eye level with her older sister. “But you’ll regret it if you don’t go,”

“Go where?” a woman’s voice calls from the door frame. Their mother, Estrella, peeks her head through the cracked door.

“To a party with a cute boy,” Pua explains.

Alani shoots an icy glare at her sister before turning back to her mom. “It’s not a party. I’m working on a piece about a local musician and he’s recording some music tonight and said I could go. You know, to write about it,”

Estrella nods, not convinced. “So why don’t you wanna to go?”

“Because they almost kissed—”

“Pua!”

“Hey, hey,” Estrella cuts in. “Mija, you’re twenty-two years old, I don’t expect you to stay single forever. If you want to go out and see a cute boy, you don’t need to lie about it,”

“But I’m not lying,” Alani defends. “It’s just… complicated, and I’m trying to be professional about it.”

Estrella steps away from the doorframe and envelops her daughter in a hug. “Sometimes, you just have to do what feels right and hope for the best,”

Alani is grateful for the piece of wisdom from her mother, feeling a small weight lifted off her shoulders.

“But if I were you,” her mom continues. “I would wear the black strappy dress with those wedges.”

********

8:10. Harry checks his phone for the third time in one minute, growing more disappointed each time the same three numbers stare back at him, almost mocking. He doesn’t feel any better when the time reads 8:11.

“Can I interest you in a piña colada?” Mitch pipes up, sauntering over with a glass in each hand.

The choice of drink seemed perfect when Harry had suggested it earlier in the day, but he deeply regrets it now. Despite the tightening at the back of his throat, Harry accepts the drink and chooses to nurse it in a different corner of the room. A part of him feels guilty for being such a buzzkill around his friends these days, and he wishes more than anything that he could just enjoy living in this moment with them. Being away from Alani had produced a strange feeling in him similar to the sickness experienced when leaving home on a long vacation; Harry didn’t know exactly how to cure it, but he hoped that lots of alcohol would do the trick.

When the clock reads 8:20, he accepts that she isn’t coming and decides to make the best of a shitty situation. He drains another piña colada and joins his friends who are huddled around various instruments and sound equipment. A few more of Harry’s writer and producer friends had joined the trip temporarily, and he’s grateful, now more than ever, for their presence—it distracts him from the overwhelming emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Jeff hands Harry a microphone and some headphones while Mitch plugs a white electric guitar into the amp. The guitarist begins with some chords that the crew has been messing around with for the past couple of days: an upbeat riff reminiscent of some of Harry’s favorite 70s rock pieces. His head is spinning mildly, but he uses the feeling as inspiration. He pinches his eyes shut and tries to let the lyrics flow, but the only words coming out are “she’s driving me crazy”, so he starts with that. The group also runs with it, adding a few yells and lyrics of their own. The song isn’t coherent in the slightest, filled mostly with laughter and choppy melodies, but it’s the best Harry has felt all night. He traded the piña coladas for a glass of tequila fit snugly in the palm of his hand, and true to Mitch’s word, the giggles emerge. At one point, he shouts the words “I’m havin’ your baby”, which makes zero sense to anyone in the room, including him, but they decide that it sounds cool and keep it going.

“It’s none of your business!” Mitch calls back, voice raised in his best soprano to mimic that of a woman. The shoddy attempt makes Harry laugh even harder and his hand clutches his stomach.

They continue on for what feels like hours, but in reality has only been forty-five minutes. At 9:05, Jeff Azoff heads outside to catch his breath and cool down. As he takes a seat on the steps, a yellow Ford Bronco pulls into the lot and Alani steps out once it's parked. She emerges in a black dress that falls mid thigh and a baby pink leather jacket, making her way nervously up the steps.

“Alani,” Jeff greets warmly with cheeks flushed. “Welcome. Party’s inside.”

She shoots him a grateful smile and reaches for the studio door, slipping inside cautiously. The music had been audible a mile down the road, but it’s even more overwhelming inside. Standing on a small coffee table in the center of the room is Harry with an arm draped around a shorter man wearing a black and white Adidas shirt. His dimples are on full display and his warbled words carry over the speakers to attack her from all sides. She recognizes Mitch hunched over a guitar and Jeff Bhasker spinning in an office chair, but she can’t put names to the other faces lingering around Harry. Alani feels extremely out of place, not knowing where she belongs in all of the chaos—it all seems to her like a living Jackson Pollock painting that she can’t look away from. In the middle of his off-key rendition of Wannabe by the Spice Girls, Harry’s eyes land on Alani and his smile grows ten times wider. He puts one foot in front of the other, completely disregarding the small size of the table, but he catches himself just as Alani lunges forward to help him. This results in their two bodies pressed flush against one another, the coolness of her leather jacket versus the warmth of his intoxication.

“You made it,” he slurs.

Alani takes a small step back and clears her throat. “Yeah. Sorry I’m late,”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” Harry shrugs, his eyes lighting up when he remembers something. “There’s piña coladas! In the kitchen,”

The fact that he remembered such a detail from their previous conversations and made an effort to incorporate it into this night makes her cheeks warm.

“Okay, cool. Thanks,”

Harry scans her appearance and his stomach flutters.

“Y’look really pretty,” he offers. Alani can tell that it takes every ounce of effort to do so.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, voice small.

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of them slip out through a side door and into the backyard, stopping just before the pier. Alani doesn’t know how much of these next moments Harry will remember in the morning, which makes her feel a little more confident to share what she’s truly thinking.

“Harry, I—”

“God, you’re so pretty,” he interrupts, running a hand through his hair.

Her cheeks heat up, but she pushes past the feeling. “And you’re drunk,”

“Yeah, true. But you’re still pretty. Always think so,”

Alani searches his eyes, which are sleepy and bloodshot, but there isn’t a trace of insincerity. In this moment, she also feels the overwhelming urge to be honest—about the butterflies in her stomach that only set flight when he’s around, and the way she constantly wonders what his lips would feel like against hers. But there’s an intensity behind Harry’s gaze, despite his intoxicate state, that stops her.

“You’re making this so hard,” Alani laughs lightly, more to herself than him.

“‘M sorry,” he offers. “Don’t mean to,”

She smiles at Harry’s completely innocent reply, not knowing what to do with all of the pent up affection she has for him. A part of her simply wants to scream in his face to stop being so goddamn endearing. Instead, Alani turns on her heel to put some space between them, but stops when she feels a warm hand tug at her fingers.

“Why d’you always do that?” Harry asks, his expression a little more sober.

Alani takes a deep breath. “Do what?”

“Pull away when I get close. Did it in the car that one time. And the other time at the beach,”

There’s a beat of silence where Alani isn’t sure how to respond, but before she does, Harry releases her fingers and takes a step back.

“Wait, that was stupid. ‘M sorry if I did anything—”

“No,” Alani interrupts, taking a step closer. “You haven’t done anything wrong,”

“So why?”

She releases a breath and swallows. “I don’t know,”

It isn’t the answer Harry is looking for, but he accepts it with a slow nod. Suddenly feeling the need to flee, he takes a step onto the railing of the pier and Alani’s heart rate speeds up.

“What’re you doing?”

“S’hard to tell,” he shrugs before letting himself fall into the water below.

“Harry!” she screams, heaving over the edge of the railing to find him. The drop, unbeknownst to her, is only six feet and he’s done it many times before.

After a few seconds, Alani sees him reemerge at the surface, shaking his wet hair out. There’s a small strip of sand along the shore below, so she bolts down the stairs to meet him at the bottom.

“What the fuck?!” She cries, panic welling in the brim of her eyes. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he deadpans.

“You could’ve hurt yourself,” Alani croaks, her limbs shaking. “You—you could’ve—”

Harry reaches out to comfort her but she steps back.

“I gotta go,”

“Alani,” he says gently, but she doesn’t respond. “Alani, wait!”

She walks briskly back to the front lot, Harry close behind.

“Alani, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t follow me.” she orders.

Her words are like a dagger through his chest, but he respects her wishes and stops dead in his tracks. Harry stands soaking wet under the moonlight, feeling helpless as he watches Alani disappear into the darkness.

********

She wakes the next morning with puffy eyes and a heavy heart, still wearing the same black dress from the night before. The warm water of a morning bath eases some of the tension in her muscles, but she knows it will take a lot more to soothe the tightness in her chest.

Why do you always do that?

Do what?

Pull away.

Their conversation from the night before lingers like a nasty bruise in Alani’s mind, but she senses a bit of harsh truth in Harry’s words. She did have a bad habit of walking away when things got hard, especially concerning matters of the heart. Her instincts were all flight and no fight, so even if Alani had stayed, she isn’t sure how she would’ve explained her reasons for panicking. How do I gently pepper in the whole almost dying thing? she wonders, a lump forming at the back of her throat. Alani was only eight years-old when she nearly drowned, and though almost fourteen years had passed since then, she still vividly remembers the helplessness of sinking further under the strong tide. On nights after a particularly stressful day, Alani’s sleep is often disturbed by the sensation of her lungs slowly filling with water only to wake up drenched in sweat and clutching the sheets. She had worked hard for several years after the incident to overcome her fear of the ocean, but a part of her still couldn’t shed the debilitating need for caution. After all, it was easier to avoid the water altogether than to wade in blindly and get sucked under. Watching Harry sink into the unknown stirred the same sense of panic that Alani had felt all those years ago and threatened to undo her progress, but she quickly realized that it was the idea of losing him that had sent her into flight mode. She imagines the hollowness she would feel at the sight of waterfalls and the scent of vanilla; piña coladas—the drink and the song—tainted in her memory forever. The thought of Harry's absence was all too much to bear, but it’s how she knew that his presence must mean something. He meant something, and she couldn’t let him go.She ends her bath quickly and sifts through the first pair of clothes she can find. Suddenly none of it mattered: what she wore, how she looked, Rolling Stone—nothing but him. Alani thinks back to her mother’s words: sometimes you just have to do what feels right and hope for the best. All she needed to do was see him and the words would find themselves. The sky is overcast when she steps outside, so she quickly puts the top on Stevie and pulls out into the road, deciding to make one quick pit-stop before setting off to find him.

********

Harry’s head pounds and he feels as if the sun has been set to maximum brightness. His clothes reek of saltwater, his skin feels like sandpaper, and his mouth is the Sahara desert. None of this compares, however, to the sense of impending doom that settles in when the memories of the night before, particularly those of Alani, resurface. I’m so fucked, he groans. Harry doesn’t quite remember every detail, but he remembers enough; he remembers how pretty she looked, and reminding her of it. He feels the temporary warmth of her fingers and the coolness of her jacket pressed against his chest. There’s a bit of fuzziness between the Spice Girls and piña coladas, but then Harry remembers crashing through water and his memory gets clearer. He fucked up. He had upset Alani in some way and although he doesn’t quite know how, he knows that he would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. Harry sits up suddenly and the whole room spins, but he makes an effort to stand anyway. Need to see Alani, he thinks with determination, I just need to see Alani.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Mitch comments from the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee.

“What time is it?” Harry croaks.

Mitch takes a sip of coffee and checks his phone. “10:30,”

“And last night was…”

“The party?” Mitch fills in the gaps. “Yeah,”

Harry rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and takes a seat at the table. “Did...did you see Alani?”

“No. I don’t think anyone did, actually. Did you?”

“Yeah,”

“So… I’m assuming it didn’t go well?”

Harry’s throat tightens and he hopes that she at least got home safely. He can’t bear to think about anything bad happening to her on his watch.

“No,” he confirms with a sigh. “No it didn’t,”

“Are you gonna go talk to her?” Mitch prods.

“Dunno if I should. She was pretty pissed,”

Mitch thinks for a second, taking another sip of coffee. “What would Noah Calhoun do?”

Under normal circumstances, Harry would be very amused by his friend’s reference to The Notebook, but right now he’s too focused on making things right with Alani. He devises a plan of action and stands.

“On a scale of one to ten,” he starts. “How shitty do I look?”

Mitch scans his best friend over, head tilting from side to side as he considers the question. “About a 7.5.”

“Good enough.”

Harry swipes the keys to the Cadillac off the counter and slips his feet into a pair of beat up vans before heading out the door.

********

The restaurant is fairly empty, as far as Alani can tell from the back. The kitchen staff are gathered in the break room for the time being, which allows her to tiptoe around unnoticed as she grabs the necessary ingredients for her peace offering to Harry. She hurries out through the employee entrance as soon as it’s complete and the key is already turning in her car’s lock when she hears a voice over her shoulder, calling her name.

“David?” she responds, turning to face the brawny man leaning against the car that is parked beside hers.

“Hey,” he starts, offering a flash of pearly white teeth. “I know I’m not supposed to be back here, but I just wanted to talk to you,”

Alani swallows, the icy chill of the drink in her hands reminding her of what needs to be done.

“You know, now’s not really a gr—”

“I haven't stopped thinking about you,” David interrupts, taking a step closer. “Since the other day when you stopped by. I mean, I think about you all the time but…” he trails off and Alani waits awkwardly for him to finish his ill-timed confession. David takes another step towards her and rests his forearm against the hood of her car, practically boxing her in with no escape route.

“We were really great together, don’t you think?” he asks, scanning her face with his prying eyes. “I don’t even remember why we broke things off,”

Alani’s brow furrows, her mind failing to come up with a logical explanation for this very sudden and uncomfortable conversation. She hadn’t lied when she told Harry that David wasn’t her ex, but she hadn’t been entirely honest, either. They had started hooking up during her senior year of high school—mostly because he was the star swimmer on their team that all the other girls fawned over, and despite all the attention, he had wanted her. It made her feel momentarily special, though she knew he wasn’t the boyfriend type. “Just a bit of fun” is what they called it, and the arrangement worked out well until Alani’s freshman year of college when she realized that there was an entire world of opportunities waiting beyond the confines of high school. A world that had brought her Harry, who was probably going to leave just as soon as he’d arrived if she didn’t make amends quickly.

“No,” Alani says decisively, nudging his arm away. “We weren’t ‘great’ together, we weren’t even good for each other,”

“Alani-”

“We were really young,” she continues. “And we did what we did, but that’s all in the past-”

“If you would just give me a chance-”

“I didn’t even know what I wanted for myself back then, let alone what I wanted out of a partner. But I do now,”

She doesn’t have to say Harry’s name, but they’re both thinking it. David steps back, arms crossed, and though he had always been somewhat intimidating, he looks small standing before her now.

“It’s because of that British guy, isn’t it?” he asks, despite the feeling that he already knows the answer.

Alani lets out a light laugh but she doesn’t confirm his suspicions. “We have nothing in common, David. We want different things out of life, you’ll see,”

“And he,” David continues, an accusatory tone on the word “he”. “Wants everything you do?”

She thinks for a moment, her heart pounding as she considers what Harry’s response will be to her confession. “I hope so.”

********

Harry had considered going to Alani’s house first, but he wasn’t sure who else would be home and didn’t particularly want his first interaction with her parents to occur whilst hungover. Sitting parked on the back road behind the café, however, he wishes that he had stopped there first to save him the painful sight ahead. Harry recognizes the other man from the restaurant he had taken Alani to the first time they had hung out, a name that started with the letter “D," though probably not the one flashing angrily in his mind. His arm is draped comfortably along the roof of her car, their bodies inches apart in what appears to be a very intimate moment. While he still can’t remember the exact details of his actions that had upset Alani so much, he fits this piece into the puzzle and it becomes much more clear. She has a boyfriend, and no amount of apologies could reconcile this fact, however tempted Harry may be to try. The word “boyfriend” sits uncomfortably in his mind, but it suddenly puts everything else into perspective. It explains why she fled his car so quickly when his wandering eyes had hinted their desire for her kiss—both times. He could have sworn that it would have happened had her phone not interrupted them the second time, but perhaps it had all been a trick of the rose-colored light. The sudden realization makes Harry feel sick, and a bit foolish, so he speeds off before he can be spotted.

He drives aimlessly for a while, mind still racing with the image of the other man’s depraved hands on Alani’s soft skin. The uneasiness boiling in the pit of his stomach is pathetic—he’s well aware—but he can’t stop himself from wondering why not me? It’s a selfish thought, but it eats at him, nonetheless. It should have been me. But the reality is that it wasn’t him, and it never would be. Despite any feelings he’d had that Alani was the one for him, he was not the one for her, and it’s a fact he must learn to live with. If this thought were a rock, he’d turn it over in his fingers until they bled.

********

Alani pulls up to the studio hesitantly and waits a beat before making her way up the stairs. She knocks twice, but there’s no answer, so she presses her ear to the door in search of any sound. Silence. There’s no trace of the cars Harry usually drives when she wanders to the back lot, either, so she figures that he must not be here. Alani racks her brain for other possible locations, but it’s a dead end. She doesn’t know what hotel or house he could be staying at, and her heart begins to race at the idea that he might not even be in Hawaii anymore. For all she knows, he could be on a return flight to L.A. or London, gone forever with the same instructions she had left him: don’t follow me. Alani lifts her phone with trembling fingers and searches Harry’s name, pressing the phone to her ear and praying like she had never prayed before. It rings three times before she’s sent to voicemail. The sound of his voice on the recording brings temporary relief, but it’s gone as soon as the message ends and she is prompted to respond. She clears her throat gently and speaks as if he is at the other end waiting to hear the right words and pick up.

“Hi, it’s Alani,” she starts slowly. “I, uh…. I’m at the studio. I don’t think you’re here though,”

She walks in small circles around the backyard and lets her eyes roam to the pier where it all went wrong. It sends a pang of guilt through her spine, but it fuels her next words.

“Listen, I really wanna talk—about last night. I shouldn’t have left, I know that now. It wasn’t you, it was me, and I know that sounds cliché but it’s true,”

Alani swallows down the emotion bubbling at the back of her throat and wishes that she could just see him, face to face, one last time. There’s so much more she needs to say, but it’s a conversation she doesn’t want to have with his answering machine.

“Please just call me when you get this. I wanna explain everything if you’ll let me.”

She hangs up and nearly throws her phone into the ocean. Though her trauma response wasn’t completely in her control and it isn’t something she should feel guilty about, she wishes she had been able to explain. Alani hadn’t always been comfortable sharing that part of her life, but there was a security in Harry’s presence that made her feel okay to do so. She wanted to share everything with him, the good and the bad, but she needed to find him first.

Only twenty minutes had elapsed at the studio when Alani decides to head out; there was still no word from Harry and she needed to be anywhere else beside the site of their potential last meeting. She drives with no particular place in mind, the windows rolled down to let in the chilly, overcast air. It isn’t until she’s halfway in the opposite direction that she gets the urge to visit one other location. There’s an extremely small chance that Harry will be there, but she goes less in search of him and more for her own personal wallowing.

When Alani pulls up to the lookout where the two of them had spotted the rainbow, there is another car already parked: a pink Cadillac. The sight makes her entire body freeze.

“Harry?” a small voice calls behind him. He almost thinks that he had hallucinated it until he reluctantly turns his head and sees a timid Alani emerging from her car. A million emotions run through his mind at once, starting with confusion and elation and ultimately ending in grief.

“Hey,” he responds, weakly, still leaning against the hood of the Cadillac.

Alani slowly makes her way over, not entirely sure that he’s actually there. Once she gets closer, however, she can smell the faint scent of vanilla and her chest swells.

“I left you a voicemail,” is all she can say.

Harry’s brow furrows as he tries to remember any phone calls, but he suddenly figures that in all of his rush to see her, he had forgotten to grab it from his bed.

“Left my phone at the house,” he offers.

There’s a brief silence where the two of them size each other up, weighing their own motives against what they assume to be the other person’s. Harry speaks first.

“Alani, ‘m really sorry,” he says gently, stepping away from the car and towards her. “I know I fucked up—”

“Harry—”

“But I understand now,” he continues. “I know why you were upset,”

Confusion settles into Alani’s body and she wonders how he could possibly know about her accident. Or if he didn’t know, what else he could be referring to. She doesn’t have to guess for long because Harry continues despite her silence.

“I saw you with him—your boyfriend, I mean. Derek?” he explains. “But not in a creepy way I just.. wanted to talk. Bad timing,”

“Wait,” Alani cuts in, her brain finally sorting out the pieces. “You saw me and David..today?”

Harry feels as if the knife in his chest has been twisted further at the mention of the other man’s name, but he nods. An uncontrollable bubble of laughter finds its way up Alani’s throat, and the sound would typically bring butterflies to his stomach, but it only exacerbates the heartache.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alani clarifies. “He’s delusional. And a huge pain in the ass, but I think he finally got the hint when I turned him down earlier,”

Harry’s ears perk up at the news, but he’s still wary.

“But you two were—”

“Ancient history,” Alani reassures him, taking another step closer. “He might as well be Socrates,”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of Harry’s lips and he feels a wave of relief wash over his body. The news is music to his ears, but he still wants to know what he had done to make her walk away that night.

“So you weren’t upset because you have a boyfriend and I tried to make a move?”

Alani takes a deep breath, knowing that she has avoided saying her piece long enough. Before she can start, though, a rumble of thunder interrupts her thoughts.

“Can we talk in Stevie? I don’t feel like standing in wet socks again,” she asks, which Harry obliges.

The two climb into the truck and settle in, the atmosphere quickly becoming more intimate than Alani had planned. His vanilla cologne has also become more perceptible in the confined space, and there’s a whiff of spearmint, most likely his gum, that briefly draws her attention to his mouth. She snaps her mind back to the conversation at hand and clears her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she begins, reading his eyes carefully. There’s a faint reassurance behind the emerald surface, so she continues. “For everything that happened last night. You did nothing wrong, please know that,”

Harry wishes he could reach out and comfort her, but he gets the feeling that whatever she’s about to say is important so he doesn’t want to dismiss it.

“It’s hard for me, sometimes, to be around the water,” Alani continues despite the prickling feeling in her eyes. “Because when I was eight years old, I almost drowned,”

The revelation hits Harry like a ton of bricks and all at once he understands. He hadn’t even thought twice about jumping into the water that night, so it didn’t occur to him to rule that out as a possible offense. He understands now that he couldn’t have been more mistaken.

“And I know that has nothing to do with you,” Alani explains, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “Except that it terrified me to think about, you know… if you hadn’t been so lucky,”

Her composure quickly cracks, a single tear spilling down her cheek before she wipes it away with the sleeve of her sweater. This time, Harry does reach a hand out and Alani accepts it gratefully; the warmth of his fingers are a welcome contrast to her icy appendages.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he murmurs as his thumb rubs small circles over the back of her hand.

“But I do,” she sniffles. “Because—”

Alani pauses, unsure of how to finish her thought. Just do what feels right and hope for the best.

“Because I care about you,” she says finally, noticing the way his Adam’s apple bobs at her words.

Harry's jaw tightens at her confession and every muscle in his body longs to bring her close, leaving no inch of space between them, but he lets her lead despite his instincts.

"But it’s also because I care about you that I can’t let this go any further,”

Alani’s words surprise herself just as much as they terrify Harry, but she knows that it’s the right thing to do as soon as it’s done.

“Alani—” Harry starts, all of his worst fears crashing down on him.

“Please, don’t make this harder—”

“Don’t I get a say?” he questions, tightening his grip on her hand, though she still manages to slip away.

Alani runs the free hand through her still damp waves and lets another tear roll down her cheek. “What is there left to say?”

“How about ‘I care about you, too’? How about ‘I want to be with you’?”

“It’s too messy—”

“Everyone has baggage,” Harry defends. “God knows I do, and I would never ask you to carry all of that,”

Alani lets her eyes meet his again; they’re bloodshot and glossy, which sends a pang of guilt and sorrow through her entire body.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she reasons, this time thinking not only about her own issues, but about everything—the lies she had told and the ambitions she was still nurturing. She hadn’t given up on her dreams and unless Rolling Stone had suddenly changed their mind about the Joni Mitchell piece, there was only one way she was going to achieve them. Alani hadn’t yet reconciled the fact that she would have to put aside her own feelings for Harry to get what she wanted, but she knew that time would heal the wounds.

“All I want,” he continues. “Is a chance. And I know nothing I do will ever change the past, but two hands make the load lighter. So, please, let me carry some of that with you. Give me a chance,”

As she studies the pleading in his eyes, something stirs deeply inside Alani’s chest. She had started the day thinking only of him, but with selfish intentions. Now, she was trying to do right by him, having realized that she couldn’t have both him and the story that would launch her career. Something would have to give, and Harry deserved more than that. He deserved more than her. Despite all of this awareness, there is something else nagging in the back of her mind that she can’t ignore. Don’t walk away, it screams. If Alani ignored her true feelings for Harry and refused his plea, she would be walking away from someone who believed in her, someone who cared deeply for, and wanted to understand, her. Perhaps the universe truly had brought Harry for a story, but to be a part of hers instead of the one she had been so eager to publish. There would be other chances, just like Dr. Hudson had said, but there would never be anyone else like Harry. So with this in mind, Alani decides to stop walking away and stand still, right in this very moment, with the boy who shined brighter than the sun itself and who had only asked for a chance to make her happy.

“Okay,” she breathes and it’s like the weight of the universe has been lifted from her shoulders.

Harry leans in, their foreheads pressed together gently, and cups her cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

Alani nods and nudges the tip of his nose with her own. “Please.”

Their lips meet like electrically charged magnets, with a force so natural and strong it sends bolts of electrons through their entire bodies. Harry’s mouth is warm and gentle against hers, and the coolness of his mint gum soothes the searing touch of his kiss. Alani’s fingers glide up his chest and along the sides of his neck, pulling him closer as if he’s the anchor keeping her from floating away into the dark clouds above them. Over and over again, their lips collide fervently, breaths mixing and filling each other’s lungs. Their hands eagerly explore the curves of each other’s faces, the softness of hair, and the occasional heat of exposed skin. Harry is the first to break the kiss, panting lightly as he pulls back to search Alani’s face.

“Y’okay?” he asks.

“Never been better.”

next chapter

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles x oc #solo harry #one direction #ybmh

43 notes · View notes

sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years

Text

A Hero III (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: okay, so this is definitely the last part. I had so much fun writing this tbh, i really hope you guys enjoy it. I love love love writing jealousy. This chapter is all fluff, so sweet it’ll give you cavities. God, the thought of seeing shinsou smile and be happy, wow. im in love with him. Have fun reading and comment if you want more shinsou in the future

word count: 5200

Part One/Part Two/Part Three

“Shinsou, what do you think of this?” she held up a dress on the hanger. The price wasn’t nearly as bad as the other things in here, and it wasn’t in an ugly color. It was purple, of course. She loved purple ever since she met her friend. Her notebooks were purple and so was her new bedspread. It was nice to curl up in a cave of violet each night, almost like a night-long hug from him.

Gosh, she felt herself becoming flustered just thinking about it. You’re friends, Y/N. just because someone is nice to you does not mean they want to go out with you, seriously. She kept telling herself over and over in her head to focus on the task at hand.

They were shopping, specifically for her uncle’s wedding. She had literally nothing that looked mildly appropriate, her closet just stuff to the brim with uniforms and jeans and sweaters, nothing fancy. Two days before the actual ceremony, her mother woke her up early on a Sunday. “Go out and get yourself something nice to wear. I seriously cannot believe both of my children dress like complete slobs everyday.” Y/N heard her hothead mother say in her head once more. Did she really dress like a slob? She didn’t think so. Her clothes weren’t in fashion but also weren’t ugly.

Shinsou peered up from his phone where he sat on the bench. He didn’t necessarily plan on going out to the mall that day, he was actually going to sleep for most of it. He was quite surprised when he woke up at 10a.m. to his phone ringing and vibrating on the bedside table. Without putting in much thought, he suddenly found himself dressed and walking down the road to her house.

“It looks fine.”

“Just fine? If it’s ugly, you have to tell me because mom will make me return it and get something else,” she complained.

“In that case, probably not. It’s kinda plain, don’t you think?” he commented. He stood from the bench. “Although, I do appreciate you only looking at purple dresses, let’s try something else.” He hummed to himself, as he walked past her. He didn’t really have an eye for women’s clothes, not at all. He just looked at them and tried to imagine Y/N wearing it. How the colors would look against her skin, and how it would flatter her shape. He tried not to think about her body too much, it would fluster him and he wouldn’t be able to look her in the eyes, he was sure of it.

“Let’s try red.”

“Red? Like blood?” she asked. He turned to look at her with a raised brow before he remembered she spent her days surrounded by her own blood, as that’s what he quirk entailed. Of course she would associate the color with it. Scrap that idea.

“Okay then, let’s try blue.” She nodded, agreeing with him. She never wore too much color, but that one wasn’t too bad. “Your budget is what? 100 dollars, right?” he asked as his eyes skimmed the racks in the area. Now that he looked at it, dresses really didn’t look that great when they just hung there.

She stepped up to walk at his side. “Yes. Do you see anything you like?”

“Not really. I have to see them on you to know if they’re good or not,” he told her. His eyes trailed down to a modest blue dress, okay for a party with family members. “Try this one. And then,” he scanned the room once more before walking over and grabbing another one. “Try this one. I’ll wait outside until you’re done.”

She took the dresses from his hands and pressed them to her chest. She would have never picked either of these dresses as they weren’t her style. She was self conscious in the first place, so she tended to avoid wearing anything that would draw attention to her. Just the thought of walking around in a nice dress, eyes turning to stare, it made her feel anxious.

Still, she was only with Shinsou. She didn’t have to worry about him seeing her. He wouldn’t judge or stare if she asked him not to. That’s the whole reason she brought him, because she wanted company and she trusted his opinion. If she looked bad, she was sure he would tell her to keep her from embarrassment.

In the dressing room, she slipped out of her casual clothes and threw the dress over her head, letting it fall down to rest against her body. The fabric was soft against her skin, and she felt herself running her fingers along the fabric, sighing at how delicate the material was. There wasn’t a design really, it was a pretty plain dress, but it fit perfectly. Usually clothes on fit right in one place and wrong in another, but this one wasn’t like that. She would have to see what it looked like with the zipper up.

“Hitoshi, can you come in?”

“What?”

“I need your help. My arms aren’t long enough to pull up the zipper,” she called to him again. Hesitantly, he stood from the little viewing bench and knocked on the door, which she had locked from the inside. She unlatched the little hook and cracked it open enough for him to slip in.

Admittedly, he felt weird, being in the dressing room with her; it felt so foreign to him. He kept his eyes trailed on the wall, not daring to look at her incase she was at all indecent. If Shinsou Hitoshi knew how to do anything, it was respecting women. “So what did you need?”

“Just do the zipper the rest of the way. I only got it halfway up,” she told him, and he looked down at her. She stood facing away from him, and indeed half the zipper was open. Carefully, with as much finesse as he could muster, he pulled up the zipper without touching much of her bare skin. He did rest a hand on her shoulder though to hold the dress in place.

You’re just friends. This shouldn’t even be a problem for you, he thought. But it was a problem. He felt flustered and a bit bothered, if he were being completely honest. He was so distracted he didn’t even hear what she was saying until she shook his arm.

“Yeah?”

“I said, how does this one look? It’s super comfortable, I have to say that.” First, she smoothed down the skirt and then she raised her arms slightly to her sides so he could see the whole thing.

He almost choked. She looked amazing. He loved seeing her in whatever clothes she wanted to wear. Uniform, big sweaters, jeans, pyjamas, it didn’t matter, she looked equally amazing in everything. It’s just something about seeing someone you care about so much in fancy clothes that leaves you shocked and mouth agape.

Subtly, he cleared his throat, and looked away from her. “Well, that’s settled. You’re gonna leave with that one.”

Y/N turned a bit in the mirror, checking herself and the dress out. It did look awfully nice on her, but she just couldn’t see herself wearing something so nice. She would probably think that about any dress she put on, and since Shinsou said he liked this one, it must be good. “Are you sure?”

He looked at her again, standing beside her so he could see her in the mirror as well. He ran a hand through his hair, and nodded. “Definitely. I don’t think you’ll find anything better than that one.”

“Really? What about this exact dress but in purple?” she laughed.

“Okay, maybe.”

He turned to leave, so she could get dressed but she stopped him. “Wait, you gotta unzip it too.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He walked up to stand behind her, his hands shaking only a little. He was surprised he wasn’t about to pass out. He rest one hand on her shoulder once again and the other pulled down the zipper slowly. It probably would have made it a lot easier on him if he just did it swiftly and then evaded the room immediately. Once it was down though, he was extremely quick to leave the room, undoing the latch, and sliding out of the room.

“Are you okay, Hitoshi?” the girl asked, and from outside the room, he could hear her slipping the dress off and the cloth hitting the floor.

Jesus Christ.

After a minute, the door unlatched and she walked out, carrying both the dresses on her arm. “Just have to put this one back and then we can get out of here,” she said, walking through the racks to hang up the second dress which she never even got the chance to try on. He was glad for that, as he didn’t have to go through that process again. He almost felt out of breath.

Why was he so immature? They weren’t little kids. She was his friend, and helping her put on her dress wasn’t anything to get worked up over. She was acting like everything was fine and nothing intimate just happened at all. It left him feeling almost ashamed with himself for overreacting. Clearly, she thought it was a normal thing.

As she bought her stuff at the counter, he shuffled awkwardly to the side. “Y/N, you wanna get something to eat after this?” Food would make him feel better. Carbs can do magic in almost all situations.

“Yes. Did you have anything in mind?”

“No, I thought I’d let you pick.” For a moment, she paused to exchange money with the lady at the counter. She hung the bag with her dress inside on her arm and turned to walk out of the store with her friend, who had his hands now shoved deep in his jacket pockets.

“Fried chicken,” she asked hopefully, looking up to him.

“Sure. You find us a table while I go and get the food,” he told her, and she could only nod in agreement. It was fucking hard to find a table in these crowded malls. Slowly, her eyes scanned the room and the dozens of people gathered around the tables eating their meals of choice. Finally, out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a table with only one chair and some trash sitting on it, but that was as good as they were gonna get. She walked over and picked up the leftover tray and tossed it in the trash a couple feet away.

“Excuse me, can I borrow one of these chairs?” she asked the table beside them with a couple extra chairs around, and they nodded, but their subtle glares told her she was bothering them. She cringed, but still dragged the chair over and took a seat. Her eyes wandered back over to Shinsou, who was waiting in line, but surprisingly, there was a girl standing right beside him. She was way too far away to hear what they were speaking about, but the girl seemed to be talking up a storm.

Maybe he knew her.

Damn, she sure is pretty, Y/N thought. Why did Shinsou know such a beautiful lady? He could talk to whoever he wanted, it wasn’t her place to say anything, she was just curious. Really, really, curious. So, she buried her nose in her phone to avoid those thoughts. Shinsou was free to talk to whoever he wanted.

It was fine, whatever.

Really.

Y/N couldn’t care less.

...

Okay, so (not) secretly, she cared a fuck ton.

After a while, she heard the chair across from her scratch against the floor and a tray be placed in the middle of the table. “Y/N, what are you looking at so angrily over there?” he asked, and she looked up from her phone, bewildered. Was she glaring at her own phone, where she was just looking at memes?

“Oh, uh, nothing. Thanks for the food. I could have paid my share.”

He raised a brow, clearly confused. She never turned down free food. Not once. Who does that? “Why? I offered anyway.”

“I know, but like...Well, I don’t know. I guess you’re right.” She took a bite of her food, but it didn’t taste very good. Instead, it just tasted bitter, like how she was feeling.

“Seriously, what’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N said calmly, adding, “I’m just curious who that girl was you were talking to.”

He thought for a moment before remembering. He’d completely forgotten that some lady tried talking to him. She was so insignificant that he just pushed it from his mind. He had better things to think about. He replied casually, “Oh, her? I don’t even know. She just came up to me and started talking to me.”

“About what?”

He shrugged. He didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t even think Y/N noticed her come up to him, nor did he think she would care. “Well, quite frankly, she was flirting with me, I think. She asked for my phone number and stuff…” Really, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

She felt her skin turn hot with anger, and even some embarrassment. Anyone could flirt with him, it didn’t matter to her how many girls he had on his phone. It wasn’t even her business. He could have a girlfriend and she couldn’t do shit about it. He was her friend, and she had to support him.

Only, that was easier said than done.

“Did you give her your number?”

“No, actually I told her to fuck off and leave me alone,” he answered, very bluntly at that. “Are you okay? You sound like you’re mad with me now.”

She shook her head, frustrated that she let her emotions show through so much. She was never good at that kind of thing, but she wished she could have avoided this entire conversation all together. “I’m fine. It doesn’t even matter, let's just eat.”

“Are you...Shit, are you jealous?” he asked. His lips turned up in a grin, seeing her face morph into one of a person who has been caught red handed. Deer in the headlights sort of expression. He found it funny. He didn’t really care if she was jealous, of what exactly, he didn’t know. He just thought it was so incredibly hilarious that she was.

“N-No!”

“You definitely are.”

“And so what if I am?” she huffed, shoving a couple french fries into her mouth angrily.

“Nothing really. I’m just surprised,” he teased, “Are you not getting enough attention, Y/N?”

“Shinsou, shut up! Now you’re just making fun of me!” she cried, covering her face with her hands.

He smiled, watching as he squirmed in her seat. She was so cute. He was having fun, just sitting here in this food court was actually a ton of fun for him, and for him any kind of fun was pretty rare. She kept putting french fries in her mouth to hide how she was pouting and how she couldn’t even look him in the eye. He noticed, and it only made his smile last longer.

Dammit, he loved her.

________________________________

Y/N sat at her desk, packing up her books and pens into her book bag. Class was over for the day, which meant she would go to the dorms and do her homework. A few days out of the week, Shinsou would go to train with his mentor, and today just happened to be that day.

“So, you have training today with Aizawa-sensei?” she asked.

He shook his head as he leant against her desk, waiting for her to be done. “Not today, he’s out sick.”

“Oh, good. You can help me with my homework then.” She stood up from her desk and slung her bag over her shoulder. “You’re so smart, I’m jealous. I wish it was that easy for me.”

“You’re smart, just in a different way, Y/N.”

“Oh, yeah? What way? I’m stupid at everything.”

“You’re really good at picking friends.”

She laughed, pushing on his shoulder. Of course he would say that. He was never confident, in fact, he kinda hated himself. Most high schoolers do. But it was easy to crack jokes like that, and she always enjoyed them. It made him feel better about himself at the same time. To affirm time and time again that he was a good friend, good for her at least. Other friends he’d had before just ditched him because they didn’t like him.

Just as she walked out the door into the hall, the purple haired boy following closely behind, another student from their class approached them, his hand tucked behind his back. She didn’t really know him all that much. His quirk was very insignificant, and he didn’t have much of a personality either.

Truly though, when she was in class, she didn’t see anyone but the professor and Shinsou. It was pretty simple.

“Bakugo-chan, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Um, sure, Tanaka. Is there something you needed?”

His eyes slid over to the tall, brooding figure behind her, who just stared off into space pretty mindlessly. She noticed the boy looking, but didn’t think much of it. Shinsou was fine there.

“Go ahead,” she said, and he snapped out of his daze.

“You see, I’ve been watching you since the beginning of the school year. I think you are the most beautiful and kind person I’ve ever met,” he confessed, his words nearly slurring together as he spoke so fast. She blinked, not expecting a confession from the boy, or anyone for that matter. She swore they had only spoken maybe two times, maximum. Why would he like her?

Shinsou looked over now from the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to make the kid uncomfortable. He wasn’t a bad guy, just another student trying to become the best they could be. Yet, he really, really hated hearing someone else talk that way about her. He was almost sure only he thought those things about Y/N; how beautiful she was, kind, strong, smart, and perfect. Now it seemed other people did as well? The thought of other people...fantasizing about his sweet friend made him feel sick to his stomach.

Then, much to her displeasure, the boy pulled out a small bouquet of flowers that were obviously picked from outside in the courtyard as they were mostly a mix of weeds and leaves. He shoved them in her direction, urging her to take them. Reluctantly, the plants found their way into her hands. “I really hope you like the flowers. I tried to pick the colors that would compliment your eyes.”

Wow, okay.

“Thank you, Tanaka-kun. They sure are pretty,” she said. Desperately, she wanted to just run away and pretend this encounter never happened. She never thought this would happen to her of all people. A loser like her.

“If you aren’t dating anyone else, I would like to take you on a date this weekend. We can go anywhere you want,” he asked hopefully, his eyes full of anticipation and yearning. “Please, you won’t regret it. I’ll make you so happy, Bakugo-chan. Please.”

Oh, God, he was begging.

“I’m sorry, but you should take these flowers back and give them to some other girl,” Y/N said as gently as she could, taking the boy’s hand to place the flowers into his palm. Immediately, the boy’s face crumbled, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. She felt so terrible for embarrassing him this way. “I’m really not the girl for you. My heart belongs to someone else, so I could never feel the same way for you.”

“I see,” he sighed. The boy’s eyes slid up to enviously glare at Shinsou, who looked right back with a vengeance. Everyone knew who Y/N really wanted. Maybe just maybe, the pair were only friends like they claimed. Tanaka was praying the entire day that she would accept his offer and leave Shinsou behind. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? I just can’t understand why you’d fall in love with a villain like him.”

Shinsou felt his heart fall to the bottom of his stomach at those words. He closed his eyes and tried not to think much about it, but memories of those bullies in middle school just came back into his mind in full color. He felt that sense of dread hang over his head.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s a monster! All he does is manipulate people to do what he wants. The only reason you love him is because he brainwashed you!”

Shinsou rarely felt like he might cry, but this was one of those moments. It was one thing for people to call him a monster in front of strangers, but he felt worse knowing that he was saying this to Y/N. She somehow avoided hearing all those insults and accusations until now, and suddenly he felt like his head was benign held under water, completely hopeless and weak. Y/N wouldn’t just betray him like that, trust this guys word over his own, he knew that for sure. He just felt so overwhelmed with shame. It made him feel terrible that people actually believed the only reason she was friends with him was because he brainwashed her. Couldn’t he have nice things as well?

He never wanted her to see this side of him, the side people perceived him as. He wanted to run away to his dorm and never leave the room again. What was the point now that he knew people thought of him like that still.

Y/N, much to everyone’s surprise, raised her hand and slapped their fellow student right across the face. “Fuck you!”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up, Shinsou.”

The boy who was slapped put his hand on his cheek and stared up at her in shock. She was so gentle and sweet most of the time. How could she slap him like that, enough to leave a mark? His precious and sweet crush.

“You call this boy a monster again, and I will beat your ass, do you hear me?” she commanded, and when he didn’t reply, she shoved on his shoulder. He stumbled back, nearly falling into the wall on the other side of the hall. “I said, did you hear me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Shinsou Hitoshi is more of a man than you will ever be. Men don’t stoop to insulting others insecurities just because a pretty girl rejected him. Boo hoo, get a grip. You will never be half the hero Shinsou is,” she told him bitterly, glaring through narrowed eyes. Maybe she was being a bit harsh, she didn’t care. If it was one thing she learned from Katsuki, it was how to defend the people you love (even if it’s unnecessarily mean). Perhaps, she learned a bit too much from the blond...

She stepped back, letting her arms fall to her sides. “If I ever hear my name or Shinsou’s come out of your mouth again, I will not hesitate.”

He nodded, grabbing his bag off the floor and turning to run down the hall in the other direction. She brushed a few loose strands of hair from her eyes and sighed, letting her shoulders finally sink into a relaxed state again. It had been a long time since she felt such pure rage burn in her heart. Normally, there was rarely a time someone bothered her enough to make her angry. It just wasn’t who she was.

Hearing those words about Shinsou sent her over the edge. No one would talk about him that way. Nobody, and she would make sure of it.

“Let’s go.” Her footsteps were practically stomps as she walked down the hall, her friend following close behind. “I can’t believe someone would have the nerve to say something like that to me about you? Like, who does he think he is?” Y/N grumbled, clenching and unclenching her fists by her side.

“Really, Y/N, you didn’t have to do that. I used to hear that stuff all the time.”

“Exactly! No one deserves to be treated like that, and you’ve already experienced far more than anyone should,” she told him. “He really tried to ask me out and then right after tried to talk shit about you. What an ass. Some boys just can’t take rejection, can they?.”

He only watched as she kept walking, but he didn’t feel like saying much. She was in too bad of a mood to reason with. He never imagined her acting like that. Even when they were training, she never got angry or even frustrated. She was so calm and gentle. For a moment there, she sounded exactly like her brother. It scared him, to be honest.

He appreciated her defending him though. It was the most anyone had done to stand up for him.

Worrying about her and his quirk completely washed away the fact that she admitted to loving him. It seemed that would be the topic of discussion another day.

________________________________

“Come on, come on. It’s almost starting!” Y/N rushed up the stairs, tugging Shinsou by the hand up . He was tired. He didn’t really have the time or energy to watch this firework show she was so excited to see. Still, he did it for her since she’d been waiting for weeks for it.

No U.A. students were allowed to dress up in their formal wear and go to the shrines like everyone else on New Years, since big crowds could pose a danger to the students' safety. Instead, groups of students from different classes gathered up some snacks on the roofs of their own family houses to watch the fireworks at the shrine a mile or so away. She had a bag full of her favorite drink, fruit milk, on her arm, eager to binge and drink it all. She would probably make herself sick, but it's like that sometimes..

“Five minutes until midnight,” she muttered. She pushed open the attic window and slid through onto the roof, and was met with emptiness. Only a few small groups of friends were spaced out pretty far and few in between on their class building. She walked over to the side in the direction of the shrine, and sat down on the bench. Her milk plopped down onto the spot beside her.

Shinsou silently took a seat beside her. He checked his phone. Only a couple more minutes. He couldn’t understand for the life of him why she was so excited just for time to pass and some colored lights to go off in the distance. The noise was so loud though, he realized he wouldn’t have gotten much sleep that night anyway.

Happily, she popped the cap off a banana milk and took a long sip. He took one from the bag as well, strawberry, and popped the cap. “Why are you so excited for this anyway, Y/N?”

“I-I don’t know. I just wanted to spend the holiday with you, and since we aren’t allowed back home for the holiday due to all those villain threats, I thought it would be a fun thing for the two of us to do together,” she told him. Honestly, she was just happy to spend more time with him. It felt so good, the cold air on her skin and the crickets chirping from the ground below. People around talked and laughed amongst their own groups.

It was the perfect moment.

Shinsou knew about this tradition some people had on New Years. He was sure it was probably an American thing since All Might and Midoriya were talking about it. Apparently, you are supposed to kiss someone when the clock strikes midnight, and it grants you good luck for the rest of the year.

He wouldn’t even attempt it. That was a complete invasion of her space. He just wanted her to enjoy the fireworks and her milk without any drama. Things had gotten a bit weird between them over the time they’d known each other. They were close, almost too close to be friendly. Other people clearly noticed; Bakugo, Aizawa, that boy from their class. Neither of them knew what to do about those feelings, so they just pretended they weren’t there, he supposed. It was easier that way.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to kiss her. He definitely did 100 percent want that kiss. He just couldn’t take the risk. What if everyone was wrong this whole time? What if she only thought of him as a very close friend this whole time and he got the wrong idea. He didn’t know enough girls to know how they acted with their guy friends.

He knew he was hopelessly in love. It used to scare him, the thought of being so attached to someone like that. Now, he just felt happy to have someone to hold in his heart. It didn’t matter much if she ever accepted his love. As long as he could hold her and see her smile, that was enough.

Soon enough, dozens of rainbow colored fireworks lit up the sky. The sound was dulled by the distance between them and the shrine, but it was still loud enough to dull Shinsou’s thoughts. He leaned back on the roof on one hand and the other lifted the strawberry milk to his lips, taking a sip.

Another year flew by faster than he thought. It was no doubt the best year of his life so far.

He didn’t even notice her begin to speak until she said his name.

“Shinsou,” she exhaled. “I really wouldn’t mind spending every year with you.”

He looked over to her. Her face was illuminated in bright pinks and blues, and she had that ever present smile on her lips. How could one person look like that? All he ever wanted and more, the girl of his dreams?

“I think I’d like that, too.”

“Would you really?”

“If I got to spend every single day with you for the rest of my life, it still wouldn’t be enough for me.”

She took a deep breath, tilting her head back to stare up at the deep blue night sky above, only a couple shining stars to be seen. For a long time, she felt like it was inevitable that he would find out, and now seemed just as good as any.

“You know, Hitoshi, I think I’m in love with you.”

His lips curled up into a smile. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, Y/N,” he confessed, “They say love at first sight isn’t real, but damn, it sure feels like it is.”

“God, why do you always know exactly what to say to make me feel like this,” she asked, placing her hand over her head and laughing. “Why are you so perfect?”

“I’m not. I’m perfect, but only for you.”

They sat beside each other in silence for a moment, taking in each other’s feelings. Her hand wormed over to rest on his, and he quickly intertwined their fingers. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. He could feel how warm her skin felt, and the smile on his face only grew. He would always remember this moment.

“Do you mind if I kiss you?”

“Please.”

And so, he got that kiss he wanted all along. Along with many, many more to follow.

For the first time ever, he felt like he made the right choice. He’d finally done something worthwhile with his life. He met his Y/N.

Thank you for supporting me and have a lovely day.

#bnha shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi #mha #mha x reader #mha imagine #mha oneshot #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha oneshot #shinsou oneshot #shinsou imagine #x reader #shinsou x you #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

151 notes · View notes

larryfanficwriter98 · 3 years

Text

Chapter Nineteen

*Pictures will be included in the wedding chapter*

Fake It Until You Make it Real

Louis had a restless sleep the entire night. Waking up periodically to an empty bed and looking at his phone finding another 'still at work' text. Louis gave up on sleep around four in the morning and instead headed downstairs. He laid on the couch and turned on the TV watching the first thing he could find to fill in the silence. He didn't remember falling asleep, but he was woken up by noises and whispers. Sitting up he looked around only to be disappointed when it was just his mother and Anne in the kitchen with their husbands.

"He's not home yet dear go back to sleep." Anne said but Louis ignored her and grabbed his phone seeing it was a little past six.

"We're making breakfast. What are you in the mood for?"

"Anything." Louis said rubbing his eyes tiredly as he laid back on the couch, "I hate this."

"You'll get used to it." Anne told him though Louis doubt that very much. He laid there for a while listening to their mothers in the kitchen before he heard keys at the front door. He sat up and stared at it as it was pushed opened then he fought the blanket to stand up and he jumped over the couch jumping onto Harry making him stumble.

"I've missed you too." Harry said hugging him and lifting him to let Louis better wrap around him. Harry walked further into the house carrying Louis,

"Good morning ladies."

"Hello Harry."

"Hi sweetheart. You look exhausted."

"I'm fine." Harry said as Louis unwrapped his legs from around his waist and pulled away to look at him. Harry indeed looked exhausted, he had dark bags under his eyes and his movements were a little sluggish.

"You should try to sleep a little bit." Louis told him

"No trust me when I lay down, I want to sleep not nap. I will be fine. Besides I am not missing dress shopping."

"Just a little cuddle on the couch?" Louis tried

"No. However, I will make some tea."

"I will make it. You go sit."

"If I sit, I'll sleep, and I don't-"

"Harry. Go sit. Now." Harry grumbled as he turned and headed to the living room while Louis headed further into the kitchen to get started on Harry’s regular morning tea. He made it just that extra bit stronger for him then he sat beside him on the couch handing him the mug of tea.

“Thank you Lou.”

“Of course. Anything else?” Harry didn’t verbally say anything only shifted and spread his legs and arms giving Louis enough space to slide in between his legs and have a much needed cuddle. Louis laid his cheek against Harry’s chest and had his arms encircle his waist as he laid on his stomach feeling Harry’s free hand rub his back squeezing him every so often.

Again Louis didn’t remember falling asleep, but as he opened his eyes he was relieved to notice that Harry was still there, but now had a large plate of food in his hand instead of his mug of tea.

“Good morning Darling. Want some? They gave me extra for you for when you woke up.”

“Yes please.” Harry smiled as he got a large helping of eggs on his fork then fed it to Louis when he sat up but stayed pressed against Harry.

“How were the kids for bedtime?”

“Maddie was a little upset, but my mom told her a ridiculously false story about me as a child that had her giggling well past bedtime.”

“Oh really? I guess I’ll just have to ask them about this false story.”

“There really isn’t any need for that Harold.” They got through a plate and some seconds before Harry was getting antsy to see the kids.

“Go on. They’ll be excited to see you.” Louis said amused as he took Harry’s empty mug after his third refill.

Harry grinned kissing his cheek before he hurried up the stairs. Louis could faintly make out Maddie’s excited squeal a few seconds later making him smile as he could just picture the scene they were no doubt making up there. Freddie’s shouted was followed moments later then minutes later Harry came walking in carrying both of the kids in his arms. Maddie was latched on his torso and Freddy was hanging around his neck but his arms supported them both and his grin was bright. It was as if the lack of proper sleep didn’t matter anymore with the kids awake and with him and he didn’t let any of his tiredness to show as he helped get them plates of food and take one of the twins setting Dory into a highchair. He helped feed Dory while effortlessly keeping up listening to Maddie and Freddie’s tales of their day yesterday.

“Please stop the heart eyes. It’s sickening.” Lottie said sliding into a barstool across from Louis effectively blocking his view of Harry getting syrup on his jaw by Ernie as he fed Dory and told Freddie how amazing and cool his dinosaur jungle sounded.

“Well excuse me for finding my Fiancé adorable surrounded by children. I mean look at him how can you not think he is adorable?” Louis said grinning when he saw Harry blush and glance over at him with a piece of pancake being smushed into his face by Ernie of course.

Chuckling Louis grabbed a pair of wipes and headed to the table deciding to help out just this once as he pulled a wipe out from the pack and took Ernie. Giving Harry the wipe he took a new one and cleaned his baby brother off then he leaned down and kissed Harry’s cheek before heading back to the kitchen where he resumed the conversation he had been in previously before being distracted by Harry.

****

Despite most of the women’s dresses being for Louis’ sisters Louis absolutely did not care one bit and it was all on Harry. Well okay Louis had opinions, but he didn’t really care about certain shades being just right or ruffles or lace or whatever. Lottie, Gemma, and Harry were the ones doing most of the shopping with Harry showing up a dress to Louis and if Louis didn’t care for the it then it went back on the rack, but if Louis didn’t have an opinion or actually liked it then it got put on someone’s arm either it be someone of their group or a poor employee who had quickly gotten a rolling rack to hang the dresses on. Louis focused on the flower girl dress and keeping the potential dresses hidden from Harry who Maddie didn’t want to see her dress until the wedding day. Which Louis was all for. Someone had to make Harry cry after all. Color didn’t bother Louis however he did love the idea of Maddie in a white dress or a different color than the other dresses and the suits so she stood out. Yes this was his day and Harry’s day, but it was also the kid’s day and her little winter shawl could be Freddie’s main color of the suit and his secondary color could be her dress color. Okay so Louis may have it all planned out, but that doesn’t mean he can’t entertain other ideas just in case.

“Hey Lou do we care about them having the same dress?”

“Not one bit. As long as one isn’t like satin and the other I don’t know Chiffon or whatever. The colors have to be consistent though. Similar but not exact.”

“Alright just making sure. You better not be checking price tags over there.”

“Don’t worry Daddy I’m not.” Maddie said Louis shook his head chuckling softly as he took the hanger from Maddie and hung it up.

Despite what Harry thinks Louis had checked the website of the shop and knew the most expensive dress was well into the overpriced budget Harry had set because despite being obviously well off he had obviously only listed shops that wouldn’t make Louis’ family out of place or hesitant in. Harry of course knew he knew of this but it went unspoken between them after the first time Louis saw the list and googled each store then looked at Harry who pretended to not have a clue why Louis was staring at him while he had worked on something on his laptop. Louis had tried to stare it out of him for the better part of an hour before he gave in and just kissed his cheek and told him he would tell his family the game plan. Besides the extra money could be used in the family vacation they were still planning.

“What do you think LouLou?” Louis was pulled from his thoughts a few hours later as he stared at Maddie in the long sleeve white ball gown dress with a dark red fur shawl that stood out against the white beautifully making Louis tear up.

“I think it looks absolutely beautiful on you. Do you like it?”

“I do. I love it. I’m a princess watch me twirl.” Twirling the dress spun with her and Louis could almost see her all grown up twirling in a wedding dress and he had to quickly fight that back before those thoughts got the better of him, “Do you think Daddy with like it?”

“I think Harry is going to love it and will cry just seeing you in this. So is this the one my dear?”

“Yes it is.”

“Good I agree I love this one. Your dads will be the luckiest dads there to have a little princess to dance with.” The employee said grinning widely as she helped Maddie into another twirl.

“LouLou you’ll dance with me?” Maddie asked shocked

“Of course I’m going to dance with you, can’t let your dad have you all the time now can I? Your dad and I are going to have lots of dances for you and Freddie and as a whole together. We’re still outlining that part, but rest assured we will all dance together at least twice.” Maddie grinned hugging his middle

“You’re the best LouLou.” Louis grinned leaning now to kiss her head before he had her go change out of the dress while he went to find Harry.

“Hey Haz oooh having fun girls?” Louis said grinning as he saw his sisters in a few dresses, “They need you up there to schedule fittings.”

“Really? Already?”

“Already? It’s been a few hours Harry.”

“Yeah I’m shocked it didn’t take longer. I’ll be back ladies.” Louis debated on whether to follow Harry, but decided to stay with the girls.

“How is it going?”

“We have a few more to try on, but I think we all have our favorite.” Lottie told him, “So this is really happening huh? You’re marrying someone.”

“It was bound to happen one day you realize.” Louis said amused as he adjusted one of her scraps, “Besides I think I could have picked worse.”

“I don’t know you definitely could have also picked better. Seriously how did my brother get you?” Gemma asked making Louis roll his eyes playfully shaking his head.

“I think you’re wrong. You’re brother is absolutely lovely.”

“Ew if you’re about to start gushing love poetry about him let me get a bin for my vomit first.” Rolling his eyes Louis sent them back into the dressing rooms telling them he would torture them back at the house.

****

They were only back at the house for an hour when Louis saw Harry dozing off every few minutes while playing dinosaur jungle with Freddie. Smiling at the scene Louis slid off the couch then crawled over to Harry and straddled the back of his thighs as he wrapped his arms around his chest kissing his cheek.

“You should go to sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re falling asleep as you do very bad roars. If you were a T-Rex I’d laugh at you.” Harry huffed a tired laugh but otherwise remained where he was stubbornly refusing to give in, “Hey Freddie you know what would be really fun?”

“What?”

“If we convince Nana and Anne to take all the kids and grandkids to the indoor trampoline park.”

“Yeah! Let’s do it!”

“Okay go get Maddie and got to Anne because she’s the weakest. She’ll say yes if you give her those really big puppy eyes.”

“Okay Papa.” Freddie stood and ran to the playroom where most of the kids were and Louis grinned at Anne who had of course heard all of this sitting only a few feet from them.

“Come on naptime mister.” Louis said kissing Harry’s shoulder

“Fine. Mom you’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be fine dear you go nap. We’ll keep the kids out until it gets later, maybe take them out to dinner as a group.”

“Good luck.” Louis said standing up and helping Harry up just as the kids ran into the room.

“Kisses first.” Harry said grabbing Freddie and Maddie and kissing them both on their heads, “I love you two and If you two convince them you two be good.”

“We will Daddy.” Maddie promised kissing Harry’s arm that was around her before she and Freddie escaped his hold and ran to Anne. Louis took Harry’s hand and led him up the stairs into the bedroom where he immediately went about unbuttoning Harry’s shirt for him.

“I could have slept with them here. Trust me I can be a very heavy sleeper.”

“I know but this way they get to spend time with our family and we can nap in peace because I’m tired too. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I’m sorry. Unfortunately shifts like those do happen, not as often, but more than a few times a year it seems like especially around the holidays and weekends that are just a tad busier than usual due to a game or something.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Louis pulled down Harry’s pants then sat him down leaving him only in his briefs as Louis felt his hands grab his thighs pulling him closer, “You and I both know you don’t have it in you right now.”

“Oh I have it in me, it won’t be good and Ill never claim it ever in my life, but I could do it.” Louis laughed as he pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead, “It won’t be good but it would be done.”

“No. I would much rather have no sex than bad sex. Bad sex just ruins entire day.”

“We couldn’t have bad sex if we tried. We could have not good sex, but never bad.”

“Want to test that theory?”

“I do now.”

“No.” Harry chuckled as he gave his thighs a squeeze before he stood up and pulled the covers back while Louis quickly undressed himself. He climbed in bed beside Harry and curled up against his chest wrapping his arms around his waist and within seconds Harry was fast asleep breathing deeply while Louis laid there for awhile listening to the kids get packed up. When the house was silent and the last beep from the alarm was heard Louis snuggled deeper into the covers and Harry and fell asleep.

#larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #larry stylinson fanfiction #larry shippers #larries #archive of our own #wattpad #fake marriage #larry fic #new chapter

3 notes · View notes

obxlife · 4 years

Text

Parent’s Pressures (Rafe x Reader)

A/N: Another Rafe fic!! I swear Rafe suddenly became everyone's favorite in the span of like a week, and I guess it goes to show how much people just love boys who have serious problems lol.

Pairing: Rafe x Reader

Word count: 3,316

Request: I love a good Midsummers fic!! Rafe and Y/N both show up to Midsummers without dates and eventually find their way to each other and end up hanging out for the rest of the night 🥺

Summary: Tired of your parents pressuring you, you decide to completely disregard them at Midsummers. You show up without your date (which they had chosen), with a dress that was definitely not what they had wanted (because the dress your mother gave you just made you seem like a fat plum), and without the hairstyle they had planned (and spent a lot of money for the hairstylist to do). Mad at your parents, you take the opportunity which is handed o you on a silver platter. Rafe Cameron. Why? Oh, because the Camerons were the business enemies of your parents.

Warnings: Underage drinking, swearing, mentions of drugs.

PARENT’S PRESSURES

“Mom!” you screeched out once the hairstylist (was her name Pauline?) turned you towards the mirror.

Your mother barged into your room, smiling at the work the stylist had done. Trying to be polite, you forced a smile until your mother was done speaking with her, and she had left the room. In her hands were three one-hundred-dollar bills.

Your mother turned to look at you through the mirror. Your smile had dropped. Now, a scowl (that your mother was sure you had practiced for years) was adorning your face.

“Don’t you look lovely?” she beamed, trying to predict what you were about to say.

“No,” you deadpanned. “My hair looks like a tower.”

And it was true. Somehow, the hairstylist had managed to make your hair stand up upon your head, adding at least half a foot to your height. Swiveling around to stare at your mother accusingly, you noticed how stiff and tight your hair felt.

“Are you trying to ruin my life?” you asked her, completely serious. You were almost sure she was. “I’m going to be the laughing stock of the party!”

Your mother was already angry at your attitude. “No, I am not trying to ruin your life. I’m just trying to make you live up to your reputation. You are a Y/L/N after all.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest, and looking towards the mirror. Trying to rile her up, you said, “Well, sometimes I wish I was a Maybank than a Y/L/N.”

Your mother gasped. “How dare you compare yourself to that boy that cleans out our boat?”

You laughed at her reaction. You didn’t really know him, but you only pressed further with the subject. “Who? JJ?”

Your mother’s offended mask was not slipping off as she turned to leave your room. However, stopping at the door she said, “Put on your dress. You’re already late.”

You imitated her under your breath. She turned to leave before entering your room once more, this time, however, she only popped her head in. “Your father and I will be leaving right now. Take your car to the country club, sweetie. Oh, and please pick up your date. He is a ravishing young man! And don’t you dare to anything tonight that will embarrass us. After all, you are the future face of the company.”

And, finally, with that, she left, throwing kisses over her shoulder. As if I actually wanted her kisses, you thought.

You rose from your chair and turned to the hanger that was placed at the far end of your room. There was a fabric hanging there, and the color almost made you want to vomit.

It wasn’t an ugly color per se, but it was the fact that your mother had picked it out to match her dress that bothered you. Why couldn’t you go wearing a color that actually suited you? Why did everything have to be about her and the company?

Sighing you tried the dress on and looked into your vanity mirror.

You looked hideous. The color was an ugly shade of purple that reminded you of a plum, and the mesh of the dress made it flare out around your legs, making you looked large. The neckline was up to your throat and you were sure if you tried to breathe in a little more air the dress would constrict you. Also, it was very itchy.

From downstairs you heard your parents close the door, assuming they had left. Almost at once, you tore your dress off your body and took all of the bobby pins from out your hair.

You speeded into your bathroom and turned on the shower, hopping in and getting rid of all of the makeup and hair products that had been splattered on you.

In a record time of five minutes and thirty-eight seconds, you hopped out. Turning towards your vanity you thought, Oh, mom, haven’t you learned? I always do everything to embarrass you.

You were finally cracking under your parent’s pressures, and you were going to ruin their night.

Grabbing some eye shadow, mascara, and eyeliner, you quickly completed the most simple look possible. Your mother had paid for her makeup artist to give you a smokey eye (which you thought looked hideous as it was colored purple just like your dress and looked like bruises). Now you looked a lot better.

Then, you grabbed onto your hairdryer and began to work on your hair. You decided to leave it in its natural state no curling, no straightening. You knew this would piss off your mother because of her many comments about how ugly your hair was and how unfortunate it was that you hadn’t gotten hers.

When it was dry enough, you turned towards your closet, stepping over the plum dress on the floor. You looked around, deciding that the perfect way to ruin your mother’s night even further was to show up in dress pants. Selecting a navy blue one from your hanger, you moved towards your tops. You knew exactly which one you wanted.

Last year, you had bought an elegant party top that your mother had hated and had forced you to take off. It was perfect for tonight.

The white top showed off a little of your midriff, and you loved it. This was for sure going to make your mom even madder.

Staring at yourself in the vanity mirror, you couldn’t help but admire your work. The top contrasted against your skin beautifully, and the pants made your butt look incredible. Your hair was messy, but not in a way that seemed undone. Your face looked clear and natural, exactly what your mother would never want.

Tonight was about you, you had decided. You were tired of always fitting into the mold your parents had planned out for you, tired of always trying to be the perfect child.

Grabbing your phone, you noticed your mother had sent you some texts, which you read while grabbing a few other things you would need for the party.

Mom: You have to pick up your date! It’s Mark Sullivan’s son!

Mom: Here’s his address and contact!

Below her text was, in fact, Brody Sullivan’s number and address. You groaned out loud.

You hated Brody. He was an absolute creep that had been trying to get with you for the past three years. He thought that making sexual jokes around you was considered flirting, and he had, more than once, insulted you in a joking matter (which you did not take as a joke). He was annoying, and you remembered countless parties where he had followed you around all night, placing a hand around your waist and trying to inconspicuously touch your butt.

I am not picking that prick up, you decided once you headed towards your car.

When you arrived at the country club, you abandoned your car and passed the keys onto the valet, who took your place behind the wheel and drove off.

You walked up the steps of the country club’s big house and squinted at the sun that was setting, its rays landing right onto your eyes.

Opening the door, you stepped in, hearing gasps from many people around you. You could only smirk.

“Y/N Y/L/N? Wearing pants? Oh, her mother will have a fit!”

“And did you see how bare her face seemed to be? That will most definitely bring her mother to her end!”

Giggling under your breath, you headed directly towards the garden, where you were sure your mother was. All you wanted to do was see her sour face.

You passed by the bar first, picking up a glass of whatever alcohol you deemed strong enough (vodka, for now), and stepped into the fairy-light lit garden.

Your mother stood at its end, her hand wrapped around your father, as she spoke on the phone with someone. You were almost positive it was Mark Sullivan stating that Brody was yet to be picked up.

Your mother’s eyes were frantically shooting left and right as she was, most probably, trying to come up with an explanation that would please Mark. When she finally turned off her phone, huffing, she turned towards you.

You smirked once again, tipping the glass towards her in a form of salute, as her eyes raked down your body. Fume was coming out of her nostrils and ears as she stalked up towards you and tugged you to a place where no one would be able to hear her scold you. God knew she wanted to keep up the image of a perfect family.

“What did you do?” she asked you, desperation in her tone. “You’re ruining everything!”

“What exactly am I ruining, mom?” you wondered. “The perfect princess image you made me wear?”

She sighed, pressing a hand onto her forehead and looking up at the sky. “Your reputation.”

You scoffed, glaring at her. “It’s a good thing I don’t really care about it, then.”

Your mother wanted to kill you. Or at least that was what it seemed she wanted to do by the look on her face. “Well, you are ruining it for your father and I. We were about to close a business deal with someone important before you stumbled in here dressed like this and drinking whatever alcohol that is!”

“And?” you questioned. “It’s not like they won’t sign the deal because of me.”

“Don’t you get it?” she asked you, rushed and desperate once again. “The company is your future! If we signed this deal, it was going to be yours to take over! And we were finally going to be better than the Camerons!”

Now you were mad. “I don’t care about the Camerons!” you nearly screamed out. “And can’t you see that the company is clearly not what I want for my future?”

“What?” she questioned. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course it’s what you want!”

You shook your head. “No, mom, it’s not. Why can’t you see that?”

Your mother’s face turned hard again (you had lost count how many times she had frowned in the past argument).

“Well, even if it isn’t what you want, it’ll be what you get.”

You scoffed and tried to turn away.

“And you better go home and put the dress I bought you on!”

You gave her a blank look before saying, “No.”

Your mother sighed. “Well then, at least mingle with some of the people your father wants you to meet. They’re all very powerful people and we will finally be able to beat the Camerons!”

You groaned before shouting over your shoulder, “Not happening. And stop talking about the Camerons!”

With that, you left your mother standing alone on the porch.

You turned the corner and almost bumped into a large body. He was tall and buff, a lot bigger than you even with your heels. He grabbed onto your arms to keep you from falling and spilling your drink. Looking up you stared into the most entrancing pair of green eyes you had ever seen, and looked down to the softest smile that could ever be produced.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just heading towards the door to get inside.”

You smirked, recognizing the person in front of you. You still had one more way to ruin your mother’s night. And he was standing right in front of you. Rafe. Rafe Cameron.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you said, a smile taking over your lips. “I was heading inside as well.”

“Great!” he replied. “Let’s go in, then.”

With that, he took your hand and led you to the bar where he ordered a glass of whiskey. Turning towards you he said, “Aren’t you Y/N Y/L/N?”

You smiled a little and looked down. “Yeah, that’s me.”

He stretched his hand out. “Well, I’m Rafe. And from what I understand, our parents don’t get along at all.”

You laughed at this. “Yeah, well, I’m not much like my parents,” you stated. You hated being compared to them.

“Then it’s good I’m not much like my parents either.”

Now you actually, truly, laughed, and Rafe joined you. After sobering up, he asked you, “Didn’t you stand up Brody Sullivan tonight?”

You nodded softly, looking down at the glass in your hands. “Yeah, yeah,” you confirmed.

He smirked, “Well, that’s kind of badass. That dude’s a creep.”

You looked up at Rafe’s face again, noticing how his eyes were completely trained on you. You smiled.

“Does this mean you don’t have a date?”

You nodded, biting your lower lip between your teeth.

“Well, if that’s the case, would you like to dance?”

You placed your cup on the bar and put your hand through his. He drifted towards the dance floor outside, not letting go of your hand until you were face to face with each other.

Dancing with him was fun. More fun than anything you had done in years. He was thinking the same thing.

He thought you were pretty ever since he knew about your existence. The day his father had mentioned to Rafe that the Y/L/N were the Camerons enemies and that you were not to be talked to, he had noticed you.

Of course, you all went to the same school. You were a year younger than him, but everyone in the Kook community knew everyone, which meant it was easy to determine that you were Y/N Y/L/N.

The day he saw you on the playground he thought you were cute. However, he had never approached you under his father’s orders.

As the years went on, he had a strange longing to meet you, but was unsure of how to do so. How to present himself, how to approach you.

And then, like a blessing, you had bumped into him tonight. And as he held onto your arms, about to yell at you about watching where you were going, he noticed it was you. And his heart had softened.

Rafe had already assessed your outfit the minute you had walked into the country club, but seeing you up close was different. He hadn’t noticed that your navy pants had a small design in them, or that your beautiful top showed a little bit of skin. He hadn’t noticed that you were, in fact, wearing a bit of makeup, or that your hair looked more natural and free than ever.

He did notice it all now, dancing around with you. Joking around with you.

Both you and Rafe could feel your parent’s stares on your backs, but you enjoyed it gladly. You were having so much fun with him that now you only wanted to hang out with him, not necessarily to piss your mother off, but more as a way to just be with him.

Drink after drink after drink you downed together, the night only continued to stretch on and the smiles on your faces never seemed to fade. Not even when a boy that was your age had approached Rafe and whispered in his ear, “You got any coke?”

Rafe was so entranced with you he had no intention of leaving you to do drugs. So he shook his head and continued to move around the party with you. And anyway, you gave him the same feelings cocaine did. No, scratch that, the feeling you gave him was better.

When you both grew tired of moving around so much you took a seat at an empty table.

“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight,” you confessed to him. He smiled at that. He felt the same way.

“Me too. We should go out together after this,” he suggested nervously, not knowing how you would reply.

You blushed lightly and smiled at the words that had brushed past his lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Rafe smiled back and took your hand in his before tugging it slightly. You looked up at him, noticing that he was cocking his head towards the beach. “Let’s take a walk.”

You nodded, taking your heels off and discarding them under the table. You grabbed onto his hand and followed his strong steps. Once you were near the water you began to walk up and down the beach, conversation flowing through Rafe and you.

All of a sudden a large wave crashed onto the shore and enveloped your feet beneath its waters. It was cold, but your body was hot and the difference in temperature relaxed you.

Shocked at the contact you had shrieked, but then you embraced the water and stayed there. Rafe had managed to back away from the ocean.

“Hey,” he called out. “Get back here! It must be so cold!”

You only laughed. “No, it feels great!”

Watching you jump around the water and dancing to the music that could be heard from the party, Rafe had the urge to join you. He struggled to take his shoes and socks off and then ran to join you. He surprised you by throwing you over his strong shoulder causing you to let out a small shout and a boisterous laugh. Giggling together, you spent some while messing around in the water, splashing each other and laughing at the other’s antics.

Growing tired you headed back onto the beach, sitting down on the sand. You lay back, feeling the sand on your back and through your fingers as you stared at the sky.

“Did you know,” you spoke out breaking the silence, “that everything spins around the North Star?”

He laughed before laying next to you and putting an arm around your shoulder. He pressed you into him, and you gladly accepted his warmth.

“That sounds like something Sarah would know,” he replied, mentioning hi younger sister.

“Then she’s a smart girl.”

Rafe nodded before pointing towards the stars himself. “Do you see that star? The one that is sort of flashing?”

You nodded. “The one that has a bit of a red tint to it?”

Rafe nodded this time. “That’s Mars. When I was younger I imagined myself being the first astronaut to reach there.”

You laughed, imagining a small, blond, green-eyed boy, with a helmet on his head and looking up at the stars.

“That’s cute,” you mentioned. Both of the smiles that had been etched on your faces disappeared as you both turned towards each other. Staring into the depths of Rafe’s eyes made you dizzy, and butterflies - no, birds - erupted in your stomach.

Your faces were only separated by an inch, and you decided that you couldn’t deal with this tension. You closed the space between your lips.

Fireworks erupted. Not only inside of your stomach but in the sky above you as well. Pulling away from Rafe you looked up into the sky. The country club had really gone all out this year. Green and golden and red and blue lit up the sky in a way that was supposed to be captivating. However, you and Rafe were more captivated by each other. Smiling at him, you pressed your lips to his once again.

They were soft and gentle, and you couldn’t remember when was the last time someone had kissed you this way. Or if someone had ever kissed you that way.

His hands moved to your waist and squeezed lightly, and yours remained latched around his neck and playing with his hair. Your exposed skin was covered with goosebumps as he continued to kiss you.

Pulling out for air, you pressed your foreheads together. Your gleaming faces were almost as bright as the fireworks above you.

“Hey,” you said to him.

“Hey,” he answered back. Then he pulled you to him again and kissed you.

You stayed at the beach, attached by your lips, long after the firework show in the sky had ended. But it didn’t matter. You had your own firework show going on inside you.

#outer banks #obx #obx netflix #rafe cameron #drew starkey

143 notes · View notes

baepop · 4 years

Text

PRIVATE // 7

You have two bombs dropped on you in one day.

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: Jungkook x You x Jennie

Genre: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Sorry I took so long to get this out! More to come!

You frowned at the view in front of you. Taking your index finger, you gently adjusted the frame, but it continued to mock you as it tilted back into its crooked position every time. You sighed and put your hands on your hips. You had been at this for a solid half hour without feeling satisfied, so when an incoming phone call came through, it was a very welcome distraction. Seeing the name on your screen, you smiled as you picked it up and held it to your ear.

“Congratulations…” You heard his soft chuckle on the other end which had you mimicking it with your own.

“Same to you…I didn’t see you at the ceremony, but I figured it was like you to blow it off.”

“You know me well, I guess. Did you get yours in the mail?”

“Yeah I��m actually holding it right now. It feels so surreal. I can’t believe it’s been 4 years already…’

You smiled down towards your feet as you began pacing back and forth in your small living room, reminiscing on your scholastic career by Yoongi’s side. “Yeah it’s crazy…”

There was an awkward pause that thankfully didn’t last too long, seeing as both of you wanted to hear from the other for a while now.

The boy cleared his throat before speaking again, “So I was wondering, if you might want to grab some breakfast or something. It’s the least you could do to pay homage to your college career.”

You rolled your eyes but readily agreed to meet at a diner downtown despite having work later on. Many of your other classmates had moved home right after graduation, so the shuttle ride into town was desolate. You put your headphones on and turned your lo-fi playlist all the way up as you stared out of the window. Summer was in full swing and yet you still found yourself indoors all of the time and not doing the things you liked doing when it got hot like going on a hike or riding your bike to the park. Since taking your last final, all your life consisted of was going to work at the suit shop and binging Netflix originals. You refused to think about why that was.

As you entered the semi-empty establishment, you realized you were the first to arrive, so you secured a booth for your rendezvous and ordered some orange juice. You were mid gulp when you heard the chime of the door ring. Yoongi spotted you by the windows and walked briskly towards you with a big gummy smile on his face. You couldn’t help cheesing back at him. You hadn’t realized how much you missed your friend.

“Man, I’m starving.” He began perusing the menu after sitting down as you did the same. Your stomach rumbled loudly before you got the chance to agree, making you both laugh.

Once the waitress left with your menus and your orders, you looked towards Yoongi who was giving you that look you were afraid he might give you once the pleasantries were over. You didn’t want to talk about them.

“So…”

“Let me stop you right there.”

Yoongi smiled, “So we’re just going to pretend—”

“YEP.” You took another sip of your juice, and then another as Yoongi struggled to hold back snickering. He focused on his fingernails instead but found it nearly impossible to concede to your only request.

“So, there’s a date—”

“YOONGI!” The boy laughed, looking to your eyes to see how serious you were.

“I’m sorry but, are you really sure you don’t want to know anything? Like, not a single thing? I have juicy details you know…”

It was unlike Yoongi to gossip, so his attempt at lightening the serious subject had you cracking a smile despite getting riled up at the mere mention of them. You looked up at him wiggling his eyebrows and bit back a laugh. Instead, you rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically, lacing your fingers atop the table.

“What juicy details could you possibly have?”

“Well,” Yoongi took a sip of his water for dramatic effect, “Jungkook’s family may or may not have found out that he has a girlfriend.” Your eyes snapped up towards the blonde, the shock clearly readable on your face.

“And,” Yoongi took another sip of his water, “they may or may not know that his girlfriend was the weird girl at the proposal dinner.”

You gasped aloud, “Shut the fuck up!”

“Oh, I will not! You really caused a shit show Y/N.” Yoongi shook his head, clearly finding all of this hilarious but you couldn’t find the humor in it one bit. Just then, your pancakes arrived but they were the last thing on your mind. Yoongi forked his five-stack as you bombarded him with questions.

“How did they find out!?”

He spoke with cheeks full of syrupy starch, “Jungoo tol them,” he swallowed before forking another piece of pancake, “he tried to call off the wedding after that, but you can imagine how that went.”

You sliced your pancakes into tiny pieces as you took in the information. Jungkook tried to call off the wedding? You hated how happy it made you to hear that.

“I’m assuming you haven’t heard from Jennie?”

You looked up at him and put your utensils down. “Not since the dinner. Maybe this wedding isn’t weighing as heavy on her as she’s making it out to be. She probably loves him now.” You stabbed your breakfast aggressively.

Yoongi snorted, “My ass. We all hung out two weeks ago and they almost killed each other playing Monopoly.”

You began to wonder what they might be up to these days with everything going on. The morning after the engagement event, you woke up alone. You hadn’t seen or heard from either of them since then, which was truthfully what you needed in order to sort your convoluted thoughts and figure out how you really felt. After checking your watch, you cursed aloud and pulled some cash out of your wallet.

“I lost track of time! I gotta get to work but when can I see you again?”

Yoongi dumped the rest of your food onto his plate. “Well, I still have my apartment for another week, I was thinking of throwing one last rager tonight before I gotta hand the keys in. You should come.” You nodded thoughtfully, contemplating the idea of possibly running into the love birds tonight. “I doubt they’ll show up honestly, they’re super busy these days.” As always, Yoongi knew exactly what was on your mind.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be there.”

“That’s my girl!” Yoongi spoked with a mouth full of food which had you giggling all the way out of the door.

You sped walked seven blocks before reaching the entrance of your job. You were a few minutes late which was already stressing you out since your boss was not easygoing about punctuality.

“Y/N! You’re late!” Raphael regarded you in a disapproving stare as his bifocals slipped down the bridge of his nose. You hurried to remove your bag and put on a blazer.

“I know! I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

“You have a client waiting. They’ve been here for a few minutes already, so be apologetic when you greet them, okay? They asked specifically for you, by the way.” Your eyebrows furrowed. You didn’t have any appointments set for today with any of your regulars. As you peered past the curtains that led to the fitting area, you recognized a tall lanky woman to be Jungkook’s mother and surely enough, her son sat perched on the bench near the mirrors. You gulped as they both made eye contact with you. His mother crossed her arms as you let yourself into the back area, your eyes unable to leave Jungkook’s starry-eyed stare.

“Well it’s about time you show up.” Your scalp prickled with embarrassment at her tone.

“Mom—” Jungkook tried to admonish his mother but you quickly cut in.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting! What can I help you with today?”

The woman eyed you before gesturing towards Jungkook. “We’re here to get him fitted for a tux. Since you did so well with his last suit, we figured you were just the person for the job. It’s for the wedding, of course.” You nodded solemnly, peering briefly at Jungkook who looked uncomfortable. You noticed he was wearing the suit in question, and he looked amazing in it.

“O-Of course, what kind of suiting were you thinking? We have morning dress fits, tailcoats and classic three-piece suits.”

“Show me your best three-piece suit in black.” You immediately got to work getting all of the components in Jungkook’s sizes together as she watched you like a hawk. You couldn’t believe this was happening, but you didn’t have time to register it all, not if you were going to get them out of the shop as quickly as possible.

As you busied yourself hanging the pieces on various hangers, you heard Jungkook speak softly to his mother who refused to take her eyes off of you.

“Mom, can you give us a minute? Please?” She sighed heavily and gave him a pointed look but let herself out of the dressing area, nonetheless. Once she was out of sight, you both let out the breaths you had been holding in.

Your fingers trembled over the hangers as a heavy silence lingered with her departure. “Jeeze, she’s kind of intense, isn’t she?” Your lighthearted remark died out in volume as Jungkook placed his hand over yours. You jumped at the contact, not having noticed him moving closer to you. You looked up at him, unsure of what his intensions were. “Jungkook…”

“I’m…sorry about her. But you don’t have to do this. It’s so fucked up. Just say the word and we’ll go.” You focused on your task at hand with a hard line pressed into your mouth.

“If you knew it was fucked up, then why did you agree to come?”

“Because I’ve been dying to see you, and this seemed the only way that could happen. They haven’t let me out of their sight since I told them you were my girlfriend.” Jungkook chuckled bitterly, leaning on the wall and looking up at the ceiling. “I guess I’m selfish that way.”

You looked at him before looking back down at the suit pieces that were all ready for him to try on. “Take your clothes off, Jeon.”

He slowly removed his jacket then began unbuttoning his shirt. When you didn’t offer anything more, he continued on, “Do you at least miss me the way I miss you? I’m in hell over here.” His voice slightly broke towards the end of his sentence.

You avoided his gaze as you passed him a crisp white dress shirt to put on. “No. I broke up with you, remember?”

“C’mon Y/N, we both know you didn’t mean that.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Wanna bet?”

“Yeah, actually. I’m willing to bet on it.” Jungkook stepped up to you but you refused to crack under his intimidation. He was now close enough for you to smell that cologne you loved so much. You gulped as your eyes traveled upwards. “You feel the same way I do, I know you do. And I know you’re going just as crazy over this whole ordeal as I am.”

You cleared your throat and backed up a few inches, taking a clearing breath as you handed him a pair of trousers. He sighed and took them, stepping onto the platform. His eyes quickly found yours in the mirror. “You can act tough like you always do in front of me, but…I know you’re hurting and I’m sorry about all of it. I really am.” You bit the inside of your cheek while he talked, trying to focus on not tearing up. “I just want you to know that I’m hurting too, even if it doesn’t seem like it, and that things don’t have to be this way forever. And I’m not going to stop pursuing you until you forgive me for not telling you first.”

You stepped onto the platform just as Jungkook held his arms up to give you better access to his waist. While cinching the waistband of his pants on each side with a pin, you couldn’t help getting caught off guard by his ending words. “What do you mean by things don’t have to be this way forever?” You helped him into his vest and then the jacket as he fell silent in thought.

When he was all dressed, Jungkook turned towards you, finally responding, “You’ve told me over and over again that you don’t care much for titles and that you prefer things be casual anyway…so why is it such a huge deal that I’m someone’s fiancé? If we can get passed the fact that I fucked up and kept something important like this from you, promising that it won’t happen again, do things between us really have to end?” You scoffed in returned, but ultimately didn’t know what to say. Did he actually have a point here? Since his marriage was clearly only for appearances, and you were absolutely sure Jennie didn’t want him in any way, could you really see past something like this? Would you be a hypocrite if you chose to draw the line here?

You both stood on the platform looking down while inches apart. When you finally looked up, you noticed he was blushing which caught you off guard seeing, how your mind was swarming with unanswerable questions. You stopped breathing the instant he placed his finger on your cheek and softly caressed it. He took a deep breath and held you by the waist with his other hand, speaking softly while leaning his forehead onto yours, “Y/N… did you honestly think I’d give up on the woman I love because my family is telling me to?”

You opened your mouth but the right words to say escaped you. No one had ever told you they loved you before. You weren’t sure whether to cry or laugh or kiss him. Thankfully, you didn’t have to choose because Jungkook’s mother had back and cleared her throat loudly at the sight of you two embracing. Jungkook let you go so you could turn around to compose yourself.

She looked less than pleased, but nonetheless agreed to take the suit, though you suspected it was only to get him away from you as soon as possible. You hurried to mark down the adjustments that needed to be made to the clothing as Jungkook begrudgingly got redressed. When you were positioned back behind the counter, you barely got to wave goodbye as she stomped out of the door with him hurrying to catch up. He stopped to cast a worried stare past his shoulder at you before disappearing past the windows

Yoongi’s party was in full swing, and you didn’t have to be inside of his house to know that. The second you began walking on his block, the raging music and shouts from drunken party stragglers constantly broke the silence in the empty neighborhood. As you approached his place, you could see a group of people laying on his front lawn having deep conversations about nothing at all.

It was only 10 at night yet there were already enough plastered idiots to potentially have the party shut down early. You smiled and shook your head, wondering how wasted Yoongi must already be to have let his party get this out of hand. After weaving through the crowd of alumni near the door, you let yourself into the house only to be greeted by a ton of drunk people shouting at your arrival. You winced and cheered along with them in confusion before making eye contact with Yoongi who was already beckoning you over to join him and his group of friends.

You noticed how badly he was slurring his words once you got to him. “They’re cheering for every new person that arrives.” He smiled sleepily at you. His cheeks were flushed, and his smile was even gummier than usual. You giggled and nodded in understanding, “Okay, I’m going to need whatever you’re all drinking, stat.”

“It’s the jungle juice! I don’t know what they put in it, but one cup is alllllll you need.” Yoongi hiccupped before continuing. “I’m ssho glad you made it, Y/N. We graduated! We did it!” He shook your shoulders and you couldn’t help but laugh as you tried to remember the last time you witnessed this loose version of your friend.

“Okay, I’m going to go play catchup and then I’ll be back to reminisce on the good ol’ times with you.” You patted his shoulder then set for the kitchen. There were so many people crammed into his living room that the trip to the kitchen took longer than expected. After dancing your way through, you reached the purple tub of liquid everyone was drinking from unscathed and decided to celebrate by helping yourself.

As you sipped from your red solo cup and watched the crowd of people having a good time, you felt a little jealous. You wanted to come out and let loose and feel as stress free as they felt but you were so tightly wound with all the stresses in your life. You didn’t want to think about all of that though, at least for tonight. You wanted to stop worrying and pitying yourself, even for just a moment.

You took a steadying breath, readying yourself to join Yoongi’s friends and put on your best social persona. However, as soon as you made it out of the kitchen entryway, a hand closed around your wrist and pulled you to the side. You hadn’t gotten a chance to see who it was until you made it into the tiny clearing at the corner of the living room safe from the packed crowd. When you looked forward, Jungkook was biting his lip in a smile. Your eyes lit up involuntarily.

“Hey you.”

“Hey.” You smiled into your cup, blushing as you took a tiny sip. You weren’t exactly surprised to see him here, but you were surprised at how happy it made you.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, to be honest.”

“Yoongi’s my friend too, you know.”

“I know, but you’ve been holed up in your apartment lately. Does this mean you’re, maybe, ready to forgive me?” Jungkook adorably poked your cheek and although your expression had been guarded, a smile tugging at your lips gave your true feelings away.

You rolled your eyes, “I wouldn’t hold your breath on that.”

Jungkook didn’t bother feigning sadness, not while your fingers lingered on his hand unwilling to break away from the contact he initiated. Your hands lasted intertwined for a while, both of you swinging your arms back and forth as you surveyed the party that was quickly getting out of hand. When some loud frat boys threatened to knock you over while thrashing around to a song, Jungkook pulled you toward his chest and wrapped his arms around you, shielding you as one of the guys’ drink spilled all over his denim jacket.

Jungkook remained calm, though you could tell by now that the furrow in his eyebrow said otherwise.

“What the hell, asshole?!” You shoved the drunk guy who was none the wiser about what was going on behind him. When he turned around and saw a giant purple stain on the side of Jungkook’s jacket, he immediately apologized and looked at his now empty cup.

“You gonna pay for that!?” You wanted to keep yelling at him but Jungkook stood in between you effectively blocking your view for the time being. He chuckled, watching you get so worked up over him. He found it endearing to say the least.

“Chill, it’s okay. Mistakes happen.”

You sighed and inspected the stain on his arm. “Come on, we gotta wash that out before it stains.” You grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchen where you grabbed the dish detergent then shoved him into the tiny half bathroom tucked away in the back of the house.

Once you closed the door behind you, Jungkook took his jacket off and handed it to you. He sat on the toilet and propped a foot up so he could rest his chin on his knee and watch you scrub the living hell out of his jacket. He smiled when you tsked, the stain proving to be quite stubborn. What the was in that jungle juice!? You ran the sleeve under warm water then rung it out and held it up to inspect it further.

“I meant what I said earlier.” Jungkook watched you steadily, gauging your reaction. He was pleased to witness the blush growing across your face despite you trying hard to keep your cool.

“And so did I when I said I couldn’t do this with you anymore.” This time it was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes.

“So you’re telling me that you were okay with not making things official between us, but now that I’m going to be signing some silly license, all of a sudden you’re my scorned ex-girlfriend?”

You scoffed at the purplish liquid draining in the sink. “You know, for someone who finds titles so important, you’re making marriage seem like it’s inconsequential. That’s the real silly thing here.

“This marriage is inconsequential. That’s the whole point, and especially so when it comes to you and me.”

You sighed and turned to him with a frown on your face. “So why are you doing it then, if it doesn’t matter?”

“I told you, because my parents—”

“No, Jungkook, your parents aren’t the ones getting married in a month’s time. YOU are. So why are YOU doing this?” The boy fell silent, unwilling to meet your eyes. You took that as your queue to go, but when you reached for the door, he held it shut.

“Jungkook…” The brunette stood up and leaned against the door.

“Don’t go…please.” His voice was barely above a whisper and his eyes held a sadness in them that you’d never seen from him before. You fought the urge to close the distance in between you and hug him, but when he approached you himself, you didn’t stop yourself from putting your arms around him.

You held each other for a while. His arms tightened around your waist as he buried his nose in your hair. Your heart beat quickened as you closed your eyes to experience every bit of this moment. You hadn’t been able to hold him in what felt like forever, and you never wanted to let go.

Jungkook nuzzled against the side of your face. The warmth you felt in his embrace was comforting, and the allure of his lips only a few centimeters away was ever so tantalizing. All it would take for you to kiss him was to shift your head just a bit, yet you felt paralyzed where you stood. It would be all too easy to disregard everything you knew up until this point and pretend you were both still a couple of students fooling around on campus.

But hadn’t you wanted to let go tonight and let loose? To not worry and think too much as you had been doing for months?

Your breath grew shallow as his lips crept closer to yours. You licked yours absentmindedly as they awaited to feel him. It felt as if an eternity had passed, waiting for him to kiss you, and when he finally had, your cold and lonely world was set ablaze again. He pressed a soft kiss into your mouth, testing the waters. The answering reciprocation took both of your breaths away as you kissed him back ravenously. Your fingers tangled themselves in his locks as they had done dozens of times before.

Jungkook held onto the sink for support as you crashed your body into his. He mirrored the neediness you expressed with each movement, moaning into the kiss when you bit his bottom lip. In one swift motion, Jungkook bent down and picked you up by the thighs, placing you on the bathroom sink then reattaching his lips to yours. He gripped the edge of the surface as your body writhed against his. No matter how much you kissed, you didn’t feel satisfied. His lips were sweet and addictive, but you knew you’d have to kick your craving for him eventually. A tear rolled down your check as you stuck your tongue into his mouth. You carefully wiped it away without bringing attention to it. You were doing what you set out to do tonight in hopes that it was a good thing, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were betraying yourself.

Jungkook began trailing kisses across your cheek and down your neck. You sighed in content, leaning back to give him more access. Just as you began removing your jacket to expose your bare shoulder, loud banging on the door interrupted your moment of passion. Both of your heads turned towards the door where the doorknob began jiggling. Jungkook turned back to you and smiled. “Just like old times, huh?” You giggled breathlessly then hopped down from the sink with his help. Grabbing his damp jacket, you both exited the bathroom hand in hand, not caring about what that might look like to anyone else.

Once you reached the living room again, you spoke into Jungkook’s ear due to the loud music blaring making it difficult to speak out loud. “Let’s find Yoongi, I promised I’d hang out with him.”

Jungkook nodded and hung his jacket to dry in his friend’s room before meeting back up with you. He found you and Yoongi by the beer pong table. The blonde boy had gotten rowdy during his winning streak and challenged you to a game which you quickly agreed to. The next few hours went by in a flash as the three of you hung out casually for the first time ever. You found their banter absolutely hilarious, though you suspected the jungle juice and the beer might have something to do with that. Though you knew you couldn’t pretend like the things that were hurting you never existed, it was a relief to not harp on them even if just for a little while.

Once 1:00 came, you bid farewell to the boys. They protested your departure, but when you insisted on leaving since you had work in the morning, Jungkook refused to stay in favor of walking you home. The crowd of partygoers had now spread up and down the block, but once you cleared a few blocks, the cool silent night had made its return. You both walked hand in hand the entire way, taking your time with slow steps and even stopping a few times while mid conversation.

You had completely forgotten about Jungkook’s summer internship which had already began. He could go on and on about the people he worked with and you enjoyed listening to every bit of it, humming along and giggling every time he did a voice impression.

It was impossibly soon when you both had reached your apartment, despite taking the long way there. It was hard for you both to unlink your fingers and part ways. As you drank in the sight of Jungkook in front of your place, you noticed the way his expression was expectant.

“I guess this is where we say goodbye.” You slipped your hand out of his grasp much to his disappointment.

“Does it have to be?” Jungkook’s doe eyes damn near broke your heart, but even so, you couldn’t break your own heart by allowing him inside. Who knows all the complications that would arise from doing that.

“’Fraid so…”

“But neither of us want it to be.” Jungkook frowned.

“Even so, it’s better this way.” Jungkook sighed in frustration and shoved his hands in his pockets, kicking his foot into the concrete.

“Even if you think so, I’m not giving up,” Jungkook looked up at you one last time, “I meant what I said. I love you, Y/N.” Your breath hitched hearing those words for the second time today. You swallowed and looked away before you could get emotional, unlocking the door to your apartment and disappearing behind it.

As you leaned against the door, you willed your heart to stop pounding in your ears. You peaked out of the window and watched Jungkook walk back up the block with his hands still in his pockets. The high you felt all night was wearing off, and all that was left was sadness and exhaustion.

With a deep sigh, you started stripping on the way to your room. You had left the lights off before leaving, so you stubbed your toe on the corner of your dresser in the darkness. You cussed and hobbled over to the light switch to inspect your throbbing pinky. Upon turning around, you saw a figure rising from your bed and it took everything in you not to scream.

Jennie was groggily rubbing her eyes as she squinted at you through the piercing light flooding her eyes. You stood on the other end of the room, frozen with your foot in your hand.

“Turn the lights off, it’s late.”

“Umm, what the hell are you doing here?”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t sleep her anymore.”

“Yeah but I never said you could either.” You limped over to the bed and crossed your arms. The girl sighed and looked up at you once her eyes adjusted to the light.

“I broke off the engagement.” You gaped at her, dropping your arms to your sides in disbelief.

“You what?! When?!”

“A couple hours ago. I just, I couldn’t do it anymore. My parents threatened to cut me off but…I don’t care. I choose you.” With that, Jennie laid back down and rolled over while pulling the covers over her. “Now, please turn the lights off. I have to get a fucking job in the morning unless you want me squatting here.”

In a daze, you turned off the lights then crawled into bed beside her. You laid on your side with your back facing her, trying to discern why you felt even sadder than before. You thought she fell back asleep soon after, so you began crying and letting the stress of everything wash over you. While blubbering into your pillow, you felt Jennie’s arm drape over your shaking frame as she scooted closer to you to be big spoon. Your sobs soon died down, finding comfort in her embrace. But the most overwhelming emotion of all was relief.

#bts fanfiction #bts smut #Jungkook smut #blackpink fanfiction #Jennie Kim smut #bagtan smut #bts #bangtan #baepop private #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #Jennie kim #blackpink

120 notes · View notes

bimboamyrose · 4 years

Text

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic (Ch. 3)

hi babes~ thanks to those of you that messaged me your thoughts on the first 2 chapters; it encouraged me to continue. just finished looking over ch 3 and thought i would post here as i still have not received my invite to ao3 (does anyone know how long that’s supposed to take?). enjoy and feel free to leave me your ideas and comments ❤️

Ch. 1-2 + synopsis here

Ch.3 – Jagged

Amy and Cream bustled around the kitchen, picking up after their lunch. Metal sat, watching and listening, occasionally looking back at the small whiteboard with his name on it. He pondered about his past silently; wondered what his relationship with Tails, Amy, and Cream had been. What little he could remember only added to the mystery, but for now their simple goodwill was more than appreciated.

“So Cream, what did you need help with?” Amy asked her.

Cream was drying the last of the dishes and handing them to Amy to stack away in the cupboard. “Oh, thanks for reminding me. Actually, I have some schoolwork I need help with. Mom was having trouble with it, too.” Cream didn’t attend a physical school but worked with a tutor occasionally to complete some remote learning at her mother’s behest.

“What kind of work?”

“Some algebra. I find it sort of confusing.”

Amy squirmed uncomfortably. She hadn’t exactly had a formal education and was more well-versed in language and history than math and science anyway. “Don’t you think this is more of a Tails question?”

“He can be so impatient!” Cream huffed. “I asked him for help a few weeks ago but he got frustrated with me.”

“I can see that,” Amy sighed. Tails was passionate about his work to a fault. He was good-natured and caring, but a strong teacher he was not. The boy was easily exasperated when others failed to keep up with him and generally preferred to work on his projects alone. “You know he means well, Cream. He doesn’t realize what a weird little genius he is,” she giggled.

“I guess so. But do you think you could help me?” Cream pleaded.

Amy shrugged. “I’ll try. But let’s ask him if we get stuck anyway.”

The girls finished clearing up and sat back at the kitchen table with Cream’s notebooks. Metal watched them read from some worksheets and try to work out some problems. Amy guided her through the first two, challenging Cream to finish the equations.

“Okay, let me check if that’s right…” Amy wasn’t totally sure she knew how to solve it either, but was pleased when the answers matched. “It is! Good job, Cream,” she beamed at her friend.

Seeing this, Metal scraped away at the writing on his whiteboard and followed along as they read the next equation out loud.

Amy cleared her throat. “Okay, write this down. ‘5×2 + 6x = 3, solve for x.’ Hmm. Let’s take a look at your notes and see if we can figure this one out…”

It took Metal a second to solve it, and a few more to write it out on the little white tablet. He chimed at the girls, holding up his work for them to see.

Cream looked up from her notes to examine the whiteboard. “Is that right, Amy?”

“Let me see…. Yeah! That’s the answer.” She turned to Metal with an impressed smile. “You’re like a walking calculator, Metal.”

She said his name. She seemed proud of him. That was a strange feeling- but not a negative one. He chimed again as a sense of enjoyment overtook him.

“I wish I could do that! But I have to show my work and I’m not sure where to start…” Cream returned to her notes, trying to understand the steps to take.

Amy put down the worksheet. “What did you do first, Metal?”

He searched his recent memory for the calculations and scraped the answer off the whiteboard to make way for his response.

“Hey Cream, doesn’t that look a lot like this?” Amy pointed out a sample in Cream’s notes that used a similar structure to Metal’s.

“Oh, I think you’re right.” Cream wrote down what she understood to be the next step to solving the problem and showed it to him. “Is this how you did the next part?”

Her writing matched his earlier calculations and he nodded. It was impressive that she picked it up that quickly, he thought.

“Look at you, Cream! You already know more than I do,” Amy giggled.

She watched as Cream and Metal completed the problem together, matching up each step of the process. It took her a few minutes, but Cream matched Metal’s work exactly each time, arriving at the correct answer. Amy was incredibly relieved at his help- she wasn’t convinced she’d be able to solve it on her own, much less guide her friend through the process. The three answered a few more questions together over the next hour; Amy mostly reading from the answer key to confirm their responses.

“That was the last problem. Finally, that’s out of the way!” Cream cheered. “You guys are lifesavers.”

“I would’ve been useless after the first two problems,” Amy chuckled. “Maybe I should get a tutor, too.”

“You have Metal; I bet he knows a lot of stuff.” Cream responded, packing away her schoolwork.

“I don’t want to make a habit of it…” Amy trailed off. She noticed how dirty the whiteboard had become. Metal had been wiping his palm over it roughly and left scratch marks and marker smudges on the surface. “I think we should get you a new white board.”

“Don’t worry about it, I have another one at home. Metal can keep it! Also, this might come in handy for erasing.” Cream pulled a small cloth out of the front pocket of her bag and reached over the table to hand it to the robot.

He moved to grab it from her hand but stopped. He noticed how his sharp fingers had damaged the tablet. What if he scratched her, too? Metal outstretched his palm for her to drop it in instead.

Outside, the day had grown dim. It was still early, but the snowfall intensified over the last hour to create a dense veil that darkened the house. Visibility was low. It was a minor snowstorm, but Amy still worried about Cream’s return home.

“Hey Cream, why don’t you stay a while until the snow lightens up?” she suggested.

Cream peered through Amy’s sliding glass door off the side of the living room. “Oh! I didn’t realize it was so snowy out…”

“Why don’t we put on a movie to pass some time?”

“Hmm…” Cream pondered. She wasn’t really in the mood to watch anything. “I have a better idea! Let’s play dress up- like old times!”

Amy groaned. “Don’t you think we’re a little old for that?” It had been at least 3 years since they raided Amy’s closet for an impromptu fashion show. The girls had spent many a rainy day during Cream’s childhood arranging outfits.

“Metal’s never played,” Cream reasoned.

Amy scoffed playfully. “I really don’t think my clothes will suit him.”

Cream pouted in response. Her pleading eyes glistened in the dim light, growing ever wider. Her fist pressed to her round cheek as she made direct eye contact with Amy.

Amy rolled her eyes. “I taught you that trick.”

Cream abandoned her pitiful façade just as quickly, clicking her tongue.

“But, I guess there’s not much else to do,” Amy finished.

A look of glee filled the young rabbit’s eyes. She shot up from the table and twirled its perimeter to stop next to Metal. “Come on, let’s find you something to wear!” She tugged on his arm which failed to budge.

Surprised at the sudden contact, Metal turned his gaze to Cream’s delicate hands around his arm. After a moment, he managed to prop himself up without it, still struggling to balance as she attempted to pull him toward the bedroom.

“Be gentle, Cream. His foot is messed up.”

“Oh, right! Sorry, I’ll go at your pace,” the girl beamed at him. She dragged him slowly across the living room into Amy’s room, detailing what color scarf she thought would suit him, and adding that maybe a hat would look good, too.

Amy chuckled to herself as she took in the unusual sight of a young girl attempting to lug a clunky robot into a makeshift fashion show. She cleared some eraser shavings from the table and soon followed.

It was as if a tornado had blown through Amy’s closet with the express purpose of littering as many clothes around the room as possible. Amy sighed thinking about how she had two messes to clean up now. Her and Metal Sonic watched from the bed; he sat at the edge while Amy crossed her legs and hugged a large pillow in front of her chest. Cream had tried on just about every dress, every blouse, and each pair of shoes that Amy owned. She’d also managed to amass a pile of silk scarves around Metal Sonic’s neck, insisting that layering was all the rage. Cream completed his ensemble by placing a wide-brimmed straw boater atop his head. He looked a bit like a hat rack.

Amy turned to address Metal. “So, how you holding up?”

Metal didn’t look at her but let out a melodic grunt. Amy wasn’t sure what it meant but his stoic gaze surrounded by dainty accessories made her laugh.

“Amy, do you remember this?” Cream excitedly held up two intertwined clothes hangers housing a long pink tank top and a matching pair of flared joggers.

“Oh, wow- that old thing. I wasn’t sure I still had it.”

“I don’t fit into mine anymore,” Cream complained.

“Try this one on then.”

Cream slipped back into the closet to change and Amy took it as an opportunity to get a head start on picking up. It had stopped snowing and there was only maybe an hour of sunlight left- it was time Cream got back home.

When she emerged wearing the athletic set, Cream spun around and posed. “What do you think?”

“The pants are still a little long, but it looks great on you. Why don’t you keep it?”

The girl’s eyes twinkled. “Really? You’d let me have it?”

Amy shrugged. “It doesn’t fit me anymore anyway.” Five years had passed since she last wore the set and Amy had grown a couple of inches taller in that time. It was enough that the pants now sat atop her ankles awkwardly. “Now get changed to your clothes, you should get home before dark.”

Cream thanked her profusely and disappeared back into the wardrobe for the last time. Amy hung as much as she could on the clothes hangers that were strewn about and laid it all on the edge of the bed.

“Do you mind?” She motioned to the hat on Metal’s head. He looked up momentarily and gently lifted it from around his ears to hand to her. “Let me help you with these.” Amy unraveled each of the silky scarves from around him, being careful not to snag the fabric on his pointed shoulders. It was in vein, however, as one of the corners of a gauzy red handkerchief caught around his left side where the tear from his missing arm was jagged. “Oh, shoot…” Amy lamented softly. Metal realized this and hung his head timidly.

When Cream came out, she held up yet another hanger. “Hey Amy, what’s this?”

A bomber-style jacket hung from the plastic frame. It was made of supple black and white satin and adorned with an embroidered rose emblem over the heart.

“Oh…” Amy turned and examined it. “I thought this would made me look tough, but I could never fill it out right,” she giggled. “I just never really wore it.”

“That’s a shame, it’s so nice.” Cream gazed at the jacket, admiring the floral patch. Then she looked up and caught sight of Metal Sonic, who was still sitting quietly on the bed. “Hey, I bet it would look nice on Metal,” she smiled.

“Oh, Cream, don’t bother him with that…”

She approached Metal anyway, holding up the piece. “Would you like to try it on?”

Metal Sonic took a closer look at the soft jacket. It was padded lightly around the shoulders. He stood up then, holding his hand out to her.

Cream gasped with joy, running around the back of the lanky robot. “Hold your arm back, actually!” She had to stand on the bed to slide it over him completely. “What do you think?”

Metal limped toward the full-length mirror that stood next to the wardrobe. He’d momentarily caught sight of himself in it earlier, but this was the first time he really examined his body. He observed his pointy nose and ears. His long, sharp limbs. The noticeable scratch in the paint at the top of his head and the exposed wires that dragged under his right leg. He was frightening. More than that- he was dangerous. Metal had taken the jacket in the hopes it would obscure some of his edges. The left side of it laid limply past the shoulder, but the jacket fit him otherwise and served to soften his appearance. The girls crowded around him suddenly, singing praises.

“It fits you perfectly, Metal.” remarked Amy.

“You look so cute!” Cream giggled.

Amy reached over to zip the jacket most of the way up for him and smoothed it over his shoulders. “I think you should keep it- if you want to that is.”

They both looked up at him expectantly. The unanticipated praise had moved Metal. A sense of nervous joy overcame him and although his expression couldn’t change, he fixed his gaze on the three of them in the mirror and nodded with unquestionable excitement. Metal then placed a palm gingerly atop Cream’s head as she giggled and cheered.

Amy packed up the muffins she’d promised Cream to take home and walked her to the door. Metal joined Amy in seeing her out, imitating the girl as she waved back at the pair. Once Cream was out of sight, Amy closed the door gently so as not to worsen the crack in the wood. Metal was reminded of his strength then, undertaking that he would continue to act tenderly as long as he was going to be under the care of the kind pink girl and her companions.

Ch. 4 (next)

#forgive me if the formatting is janky around the math part #also i tried to check the math but i'm also ass at algebra so please be gentle if its wrong lol #metamy #metal sonic #amy rose #sth #sonic fanfiction #unfamiliar

37 notes · View notes

gilbirda · 4 years

Text

Haruhi, do you know what polyamory is?

Haruhi doesn't know what to do anymore. They are a couple of three! What to do now? How far would they go? And what she fears the most - will it work? As they try to find a way to tell their parents what's going on, she searches the answers to her questions, not realizing that she is just making the wrong ones.

<< Prequel

[Read in AO3][Read in FF.net]

It is true that she had accepted this relationship of three people that day at the hotel. But she was not going to deny that she was afraid, very afraid, and nervous.

At that time she had not thought much about the consequences that relationship would have on them. What if it ends up not working at all? What if that dark stain remained in their memories and then they could never look each other in the face anymore? She was afraid to break that fraternal relationship that was so obvious in the twins if it did not go well and she was afraid to break that friendship between them.

Every time she let out some of her fears they would simply smile and say that everything would be fine, but she was sure they feared that almost as much as she did; that they had it in mind even before they proposed it to her.

But the evidence was clear, and that they could not hide it: the fights between the brothers (although they did not become fights as in physical ones) had increased, usually over who fed Haruhi first (and then she ended up eating alone) or who was holding her hand this time. She could not help but feel uncomfortable being there in the middle of the arguments and could not stand being the reason for them.

Several times during the week they had been dating, she had thought they should finish this; she wanted to tell them that she could not stand it anymore to see them fight so much because of her or that she did not want them to do something that they would all regret later. But then she then saw their faces and listened to them apologize without her asking them to, and she did not have the heart to do it. She forgave them too quickly, as much as they forgave each other, and gave another chance to this peculiar relationship.

Besides, she thought in those moments, it's normal for newly-made couples to fight each other or even be on the verge of breaking up. She had read it in the “girls’ magazines” that she was forced to possess thanks to her friend Mei. She did not want to remember how she had ended reading those ... things full of glitter and edited images of celebrities without clothes; but on the cover of one she read an article about complicated relationships and her hands moved by themselves. But when she started reading it she had to read it whole. She read the "clues to know if your relationship will last" and they fit in some but not all, so she was not going to deny that it worried her.

It's just that we're not a normal relationship.

No, not horrible, she thought. It was not horrible or bad. They loved each other and there should be nothing wrong with that. She closed her eyes remembering the happy faces of her best friends and now boyfriends (boyfriends, still not used to it) when she accepted that night, she remembered their smiles free of malice, and felt she wanted to see them again. If possible every day. She felt that she would like to be the cause of their happiness and their smiles.

She blushed slightly at that thought. What the hell was wrong with her? Before she did not give two thoughts to that kind of thing, and now she could not get it out of her head. Neither the new sensations, nor the feelings that they had awakened in her, or their kisses. Unconsciously she brought her fingers to her lips and remembered Hikaru and Kaoru once more.

She sighed once more.

“Haruhi ~,” she heard the door open followed by the voice of Ranka, her father. That’s right, her father! They still had not said anything about the three of them, they had not found the opportunity yet.

“Hi dad!” she shouted from her room sighing one last time before heading to the kitchen and heating the food she had made for both.

“What’s for dinner, honey?” Ranka said, appearing with his heels in his hands at the kitchen door.

“Stew with rice.” She said, facing the pots while stirring the stew. She turned off the fire and took off her apron, turning around to find her father staring at her and with his head cocked to the side. "There’s something wrong?"

Ranka said nothing and looked at her a little more closely. Haruhi, his Haruhi, was strange today. He could not say what was ‘wrong’ exactly or point at something in particular; she was just different. Since when was she different? He could point out the moment she had changed, but there was an obvious change. Was it her looks? Or her face? Or the way she carried herself?

“Haruhi, are you using a cream or something?” He said suddenly, interrupting something she was saying. “There’s something different about you today.”

Haruhi looked at him strangely and thought about his words. No, she had not done any of that. She shook her head and turned to serve the food in two plates, listening to the gentle steps of her father go to his room, probably to change clothes.

She finished serving the food and took it to the dining room with her mind still filled with all the thoughts that tormented her lately. She heard someone hum a melody and assumed it was her father, but at the same time she heard the sound of the shower turning on, so it was impossible to hear the sound so clearly if it was from inside the shower.

Blushing as she had never done, she realized that it was her who was singing. Haruhi never sang, she found it meaningless and a waste of time; and besides, she did not know how to sing well. Scratch that, she did not know how to sing. Period.

Then, why now did she start to do that? She only felt happy, like when she finished all homework in record time and had nothing else to do; or when she got the highest grade of her class.

No, it was something different. Like everything in her life in the last week. She tried to remember what had led her to hum while serving the food, but couldn’t come up with anything.

In the end, it was simple. She just felt like doing it.

***

Again the twins had lied to her. It had already become clear to her that even if they went out together they were not going to stop making jokes on her and they were going to make fun of her at any given moment. Of course, by now she knew the tiny differences in their laughs and could tell in more depth when they were trying to cheer her up or were messing with her. But she still had a lot to learn about them, though.

Going back to the present, Haruhi was now stuck in the Hitachiin mansion with a view of a hundred? or so dresses and outfits that Yuzuha had prepared for her. They told her they were going to have a snack at their house and the girl thought it would be also an invitation to play whatever video game they were obsessed with now, as usual with the twins; but when she arrived she could no longer escape from the painted claws of the older woman.

She sighed for the umpteenth time, redirecting her thoughts to what was worrying her in the last days: how they were going to tell their parents. Haruhi was not stupid, she knew how rich families worked, the system so ... medieval of arranged marriages. Who knows if the twins already had intendeds that she didn’t know of. A pinch of jealousy attacked her by surprise, but she was smarter than that and suppressed it with haste. It was useless to worry about it right now.

“Haruhi, baby, how are you feeling?” She heard Yuzuha's melodious, caramel-like voice pulling her out of her thoughts. She looked at her for a few seconds in silence without deciphering what she said. "The dress," she added, looking at her with a diminishing smile, "Are you uncomfortable? Do they fit too loosely? Too tightly? Itchy?”

Haruhi smiled slightly and answered with the sincerity that characterizes her.

“It stings a little on the back,” she turned around and pointed to the area that bothered her.

“I knew that the fabric would not be right there. But of course, I had to get carried away by my assistants. When I see them, I'll tell them that …”

Haruhi disconnected from the speech and looked out the window absently. She really did not care about putting on Mrs. Hitachiin's clothes, she had become accustomed in the first place to being taken from one place to another thanks to the club shenanigans, and now to the intensity and passion that the woman applied to her work. In a way it reminded her of her mother, since in the few memories she had of her, and what Ranka had told her, she enjoyed her work and used to talk enthusiastically about her cases on the jury.

“Hey, Haruhi.”

“Are you bored?”

She turned to face the twins, who looked at her somewhat sadly. She knew they were worried that she was not having fun, so she smiled at them and said:

“No, do not worry. In a way I've gotten used to this," she said glancing at the huge amount of sets and dresses on hangers at her side. They smiled in response and Kaoru got behind her to start removing the dress while Hikaru chose the next dress with her mother.

“I know something worries you,” Kaoru whispered in her ear as she took off the ribbon and unbuttoned the buttons one by one. “Do not try to hide it from us.”

She sighed again.

“I don’t know what we are going to tell her.” She did not say anything else since she knew that Kaoru would understand her.

“I understand,” he nodded. “We have to think of something. I think mom is suspecting something’s happening already.”

Haruhi glanced at Yuzuha, but before she looked back at the window she felt Kaoru's lips on her neck for a few seconds, so fast that the others in the room could not see them. She listened to his soft giggle as he finished undoing all the buttons, making her smile in response.

Meanwhile, Yuzuha had seen them. Of course. Did they think they could hide things from their own mother? In her own house? They can’t. A mother knows everything about their children. So one of her sons had become a grown man and had a girlfriend, huh? In any other situation she would be hurt that they did not say anything to her. Or she wouldn’t like the girl in question. But it was Haruhi and she knew her very well. Of course she approved! She was perfect for her children, she always knew what to do with them, she could tell them apart, she made them happy. She would be proud if she ever called herself her mother, wanting her as a new daughter in the family for ages.

“This one, mom?” She heard the voice of her other son next to her raising a new dress. She nodded and they proceeded with the torture ... I mean, with the dress testing session of the next season’s fashion show.

***

They were on a break, already more than halfway to the ... session, and Haruhi had gone to the bathroom for a moment to splash water on her overheated face. When she came out surprise surprise, she ran into finding the only person she did not want to be alone with for the time being. Yuzuha smiled to reassure her once she noticed her tense up.

“You have nothing to worry about,” she said softly without dropping the smile. She pulled away from the wall on which she was leaning and faced her directly. “I know everything.”

The girl gulped, but said nothing.

“And I approve.”

Haruhi, who was waiting for her to ask for explanations or to tell her that she was angry or something along those lines, could not help but drop a "What?" in response. She did not know what to feel at that moment. Surprise, stupefaction, embarrassment at being discovered so soon or nervousness at the topic. It was a hard pick.

“Calm down,” she took her hand and looked at her straight in the eyes. “You're a great girl, how could I not love you?”

Haruhi blushed slightly, but kept her eyes on the woman. She was going to say something, but the woman’s next words shocked her beyond belief.

“You're perfect for my Kaoru.”

Nani?

Haruhi froze in place, and all the tranquility that she had managed to gather had vanished, giving way to nervousness and stress. She realized that Yuzuha believed that she was only dating one of her children. Of course, it's the most normal thing in the world to think that’s the situation here, she told herself. She wanted to giggle nervously as she removed her hand from the woman in front of her, not knowing what to say to get her out of her mistake.

Ma'am, you'll see ... I'm going out with your two children. No, that definitely was not good for the conversation.

She looked to the side searching for something that could save her when he spotted the twins running towards them, their faces flushed red with what she supposed was a mix of embarrassment and anxiety.

“Haruhi?” Yuzuha said without realizing that her children were coming. “Are you… Are you not dating Kaoru?

“You see ... I …” she did not know what to say. The other woman looked at her strangely, imagining a thousand scenarios. What the hell was going on here?

“Mom!” the twins shouted when they reached them, breathless.

“It's not what it looks like!”

“Well, maybe a little bit…”

“Haruhi …”

“And us…”

Between gasps for having run up there, Hikaru and Kaoru tried to explain the whole situation, too nervous to get anything coherent out of their mouths, making Yuzuha get more suspicious about the issue. She frowned slightly.

Oh shit. Haruhi thought, preparing for the worst.

“Calm down, boys,” said the woman recovering the smile, but this one was not very reassuring. “Why don’t we discuss it more calmly while having a nice cup of tea?"

They could only nod.

A while later, and after a calming warm tea, Kaoru stared at his cup dodging the analyzing eyes of Yuzuha, not knowing what to say. Hikaru looked out the window, too scared of his mother. And Haruhi looked alternately at those in the room, not sure if it was her place to start talking.

Yuzuha took a last sip and released the cup calmly on the table, causing the twins and Haruhi to jump. The woman sighed, still wondering what the hell was going on here, but ready to listen. She had imagined all sorts of things, from Haruhi not going out with her children but still having occasional sex, to having married one of them secretly and ending up pregnant. She liked none of those options and hoped it was nothing similar.

“Well, start explaining to me.” She looked at them seriously. If they were doing something serious then she was going to respond in the same manner.

Haruhi, sitting between the boys, sighed and decided it was better for her to start. She felt each of her hands being taken by more larger and warmer ones. She smiled

“Mrs. Hitachiin,” the woman did not ask her to call her by her name this time. Haruhi swallowed hard. “We know we should have told you before, but we did not find the right moment,” the girl measured her words looking for the correct ones .”You see, I …”

“Yes?” She urged the girl to continue when she fell silent. She watched her cheeks turn slightly red and thought she looked lovely like that; but no, she had to focus. This was serious.

“I …” she was terrified of what she was going to say. That Yuzuha would go into a rage and separate them.

“She's going out with me.” Hikaru said, arming himself with courage. Haruhi and his brother looked at him surprised at the strength with which his voice came out, as if he were not nervous or as if the hand that held Haruhi's was not shaking.

Yuzuha looked at him, surprised. Was that all? What was with the worried faces?

“And with me,” Kaoru said, seeing where Hikaru wanted to go. He smiled slightly as he pulled his hand away from Haruhi's and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

As if they had planned it beforehand, Hikaru also released Haruhi to surround them both with his arm, snaking it behind her neck, leaning on the sofa where they were sitting.

Rendered speechless, the woman opened her eyes wide and leaned back slightly on her seat. What was this? Another joke from her children? If so, it was a very untasteful joke, because for a moment her heart stopped.

But no, it was not. She saw their eyes full of determination, their mouths closed tightly, waiting nervously for her response. Their hands slightly shaking. The small tremble of their jaws.

She also noticed the girl in question. Haruhi. There in the middle of the two she saw her with new eyes now knowing what she knew. She knew how the girl was, how important the rules were to her, how stubborn she was with her beliefs of what was wrong and right. What had led her to make such an odd decision?

Ah, there she saw it; the spark in her eyes. A light that she had not seen before in her but that was now very clear in the chocolate of her eyes.

She loved them. For real.

“Hmm...,” Yuzuha smiled sideways and relaxed in the seat. “I see,” she laughed.

“Huh?” they said, confused.

“Calm down, I'm not going to do anything to you guys,” she smiled nicer, but this time it was for real. The three who sat in front of her looked at each other with shock before relaxing in their seats.

“So ...?” Kaoru said, cocking his head.

“ ... what now?” added his brother.

Haruhi remained silent, staring at the woman and watching her closely.

“I'll be honest - I was not expecting this. It's ... well,” she drank more tea and closed her eyes. "I don’t know what to say,” she opened them and fixed her eyes on her children and Haruhi, laughing mentally at the strength and fear with which they looked back at her. Yes, they had grown up and she had not even noticed. What she did know was that all this had been achieved by the young woman in front of her; that it was her who had freed them from those years in their own world, who taught them to love someone more than their twin brother. And for that she would always be grateful.

“Mrs. Hitachiin,” Haruhi said again, but now with more confidence in the voice. The woman opened her mouth and Haruhi knew what she was going to say. “Yuzuha-san,” she smiled a little when the other woman smirked at the correction. “I assure you that this decision has been made between the three of us and that… that we are going to fight so that this does work. Please, do not think it's a passing whim. I really ... I - I love them.” She blushed as she said these words. She had never said "I love you" to anyone but her parents; and she hadn’t been with the twins long enough to get used to it. She had never been very vocal about her feelings anyways.

Yuzuha smiled wider knowing that it was true. And that her children loved her in response. It was evident in those eyes that usually hid what they felt to the whole world so as not to get hurt.

“I understand,” she said softly without removing the smile. “And it’s fine by me. Have you already told Haruhi's father?”

“Well …” Hikaru looked away.

“No, not really,” said his brother.

“We have not found the right moment yet,” laughed the brunette getting slightly tense with the topic. “But we plan to tell him soon.”

“I wish you good luck, guys," said the short-haired woman. "You have my full support.”

“So….”

“ ... is it really okay with you?” said the twins.

“Yeah,” Yuzuha laughed. “How could it not be? I can see how happy you are. I could not take it from you like that as I know that it would only hurt you more. If she is what you want and you manage to share her, then I have no problem.”

They sighed, relieved that the danger had been avoided.

“But tell me just one more thing,” she put on her serious face. They swallowed loudly. “Tell me please that you are using protection?”

Haruhi turned red knowing what she meant (she would have been confused once upon a time, but she had already read many of Mei’s magazines by then). Tuning out the world around her, Haruhi realized the reality of the subject. It was the one she had never thought about because she had never really had a boyfriend before and there was no need to ask herself about it.

She did not listen to what the twins babbled to their mother as she was absorbed in her thoughts. By now she was informed about all of the steps of a relationship. And was afraid of what she was discovering.

***

She couldn't get these thoughts out of her head no matter how much she wanted to; she could not help but pay unhealthy attention when they talked about it on television, in the streets, on the news. She felt more aware of herself than ever, as if a door had been opened inside her or a switch had been hit.

How far would the three of them go? What would they do then? She could not stop asking herself, but always stopped herself before letting her mind go too far.

In Mei's magazines she couldn't find anything useful. Well, at least not in a serious way, outside the "twenty tricks to impress your boy" and those things; things that had filled her with more weird thoughts with the advice that came written on the pages. But none of it helped calm her worries.

What the hell was she doing? She was getting too distracted and she was sure that sooner or later it would affect her grades. And that could not happen. If her grades go down, she'd lose the scholarship; and if she loses the scholarship, she would have to leave Ouran. She could not leave.

She wobbled slightly when she stumbled over a small stone, ironically giving her even yet another reason to stop this nonsense. She had been distracted while walking home and she had almost fallen on her face

Then she realized that she was standing in front of a bookstore near her house and looked over the newspapers and magazines they sold until her eyes stopped in a particular magazine. On the cover there was an image of two boys and a girl with the phrase that said: "When couples are three. Polyamory, are we biologically programmed to love several people at the same time?"

Obviously that attracted her attention and she walked to the store to look closely, as if she had imagined everything and wanted to verify that it was real. But no, it was really there.

“Miss, do you want something?” said the kind lady standing behind the counter. Haruhi took out some coins and pointed to the magazine in question.

“This one, please.”

When she got home she ran to her room to read the entire article, eager to know what kind of answers she would get there. Maybe they were not so strange... Maybe there would be more cases like them, people who had known what to do in this situation. Maybe, they had a future after all.

She was so absorbed in her reading that before she realized, her father had just arrived and she had not prepared dinner. She apologized and began to make the food, her body lighter than ever now that she had what she had been craving to know.

It was not that she did not find answers, it was that she was looking in the wrong place.

And like this she knew that she was ready to tell her father. The twins agreed and went to her house one afternoon after school to tell him. Ranka didn't have to work that day, so they had fun together and did "commoners' stuff" with the Fujiokas. When the time came a few hours later and they were quiet having tea, Haruhi took advantage of a moment of silence while her father took a sip of tea to look at the boys and nodded.

“Dad …” he looked up from his cup of tea and looked surprised by her serious tone. “We have to tell you something.”

Ranka froze in place, his cup abandoned and cooling on the table. He looked at his Haruhi for a few long seconds and nodded silently imagining what it might be. Sure it had something to do with the club, but why were there only the demonic twins?

No, it had to be something only of the three of them. Something ...

No! Not his little girl! Surely those damned fools wanted to separate her from his side forever; sure they had done something wrong ...

He frowned, but chose to listen before going into dad-rampage.

“Ranka-san,” said the twins at the same time. “We have not told you before because we did not find the right moment, but please keep in mind that this is not a joke or anything that we take lightly.

“We have a reputation for not wanting anything seriously, for not taking anything seriously -”

“ - But believe us when we tell you that this time it's not like that.”

“Ranka-san, we love Haruhi,” they ended up saying at the same time again, “and we're dating her. Both of us.”

Ranka, if she was already stone, now felt how her body was crumbling like sand carried by the wind. What did all this mean? His first impulse was to lash out and beat them until they fainted or lost their memory, whatever came first; but his daughter's face stopped him.

There in the middle of the two guys, he saw her eyes. Her big brown eyes full of decision, of love, of determination. Love towards him, of course, much like the one he had for her; but there were to those two boys. Two. He smiled mentally. His little girl was growing, not only because of the boyfriends (although that could not help but bother him), but because he could see that she was sure of this decision and that she was going to fight for it.

Although at first what he wanted above everything in the world was to throw himself at the necks of the boys who wanted to take her away from his side and suffocate them to death, Ranka restrained himself and smiled for his daughter. She was so much like her mother.

“I understand," he said in a calm voice. One of his eyebrows twitched, making it clear to those before him that he was not happy at all even if he was trying. “And I will allow ... this. Haruhi, I trust your criteria and I know you can deal with any trouble that might come." His strong persona broke and the tearful Ranka that they knew so well appeared, putting his hands on Haruhi’s shoulder. "How much have you grown ... "

She returned his gaze and smiled, nodding slightly. Ranka closed his eyes and sighed.

“Hikaru, Kaoru,” both tensed. “If for whatever reason you make my little girl cry, feel uncomfortable or hurt in any way and at any level…!” He was raising the tone more and more. “You can prepare for the worst!”

Now he did throw himself at them over the table and hit them on the head as a small sample of what he would really do given the case.

***

“Haruhi,” she peeled her face from the magazine she was reading. It was the same one he had bought the other time, but it was another issue. It had very interesting articles about curious things - things she enjoyed and was willing to waste studying time for. “You look different.”

She blinked without understanding what her boyfriend Kaoru was saying. She cocked her head and asked:

“How so?”

“I do not know …”

“Less clueless?” tried to help her other boyfriend, Hikaru. The comment might have annoyed her once upon a time, but she knew they meant it as she seemed more focused. She smiled slightly.

“No, that’s not it” she said, packing the magazine in her purse and getting up to leave the cute café where they were having something sweet that Saturday. “I just answered a few questions that had been bothering me.”

The others looked at her without understanding, but they let it go. They had already paid, so they went down the street to continue spending the day together on this date.

Almost without realizing it, Haruhi took the hand of the twin who was on her right side while she felt the arm of the one on her left find its place around her waist. She felt more secure when she could feel the two of them near her. She felt more complete.

She remembered the answers to which she talked about earlier, the questions she answered that day when she read the article on polyamory. "A relationship between three people is based on trust, dialogue and mutual love." "A relationship in which there is no room for jealousy, in which they trust each other". "A relationship beyond the sexual and the physical."

She took a deep breath. This was a definition she felt comfortable with. She no longer felt pressured, like if something was expected of her. As if it was expected that she would behave like a crazed, hormoned girl like those on TV when they got a boyfriend. Or like the ones on Mei's magazines.

She just had to be herself, she just shouldn’t have to change.

BACK TO THE ARCHIVE

#ouran high school host club #ohshc #ouran fanfiction #ohshc fanfiction #hikaru hitachiin #kaoru hitachiin #fujioka haruhi #hitachiin brothers #hitachiin twins #hikaharukao #hikaru x haruhi #kaoru x haruhi #hikaru x kaoru #polyamory #gil writes #fanfic #fanfiction #writeblr

34 notes · View notes

the19thduckpotato · 4 years

Text

In the Shadow of a Smile (Pt 5)

Part 4

He said it he said it he really said it does he know that's everything I've wanted to hear can I say I love you?? I want to say I love you-- but will he feel pressured to say it back? I hope not I know it's so hard to when you're All Might he must know it's okay if he can't but what if he doesn't?? Maybe I should just tell him-- "--I love you," Izuku said, muffled against the thick coat. "I love you lots-- you don't have to say it back if you don't want to, it's okay"

Toshi squeezed his eyes shut as his heart thudded painfully. I love you, too!! Then say it. Eyes still shut, he opened his mouth. just a few simple words "I..." don’t you dare hold back "...I..." wow, are you seriously about to chicken out right now? He closed his mouth, resting one hand on Izuku's back. ....I love you, too...

Whispered softly, "...I know."

Toshi made a frustrated noise. the great All Might is a coward. Can't even compare to a child. That's where your regret lies--not because you didn’t tell them. Because you didn't have the guts to. "Izuku," he murmured hoarsely. "I just..." His voice caught and he sighed miserably. "Thank you."

Izuku squeezed his hug a little tighter, hoping it would make Toshi feel a bit better, somehow. "Thank you," he murmured back. For loving me, even if you can't say it. N maybe someday you can... but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. I know it's... when you finally think you're close to someone and say it and then something... happens... maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but-- I just can't seem to stay quiet....

Toshi suddenly reached for his phone, tapped the screen, then gave a tiny grimace of surprise. "I need to duck out for a moment. Just a minute, no more, I promise. Will you be ok in here?"

"Ehh?" Izuku looked up in surprise, not able to see the phone screen but getting the idea. "Uh, okay." He nodded, pretty sure he sounded confident enough. Oh crap. Crapcrapcrap.

Toshi tried to not rush out, striding as calmly as he could. He was soon across the street, watching the river glimmer in lazy rolling waves nearby. He slipped his phone (no message visible for there never was one) back in his pocket then took a deep breath of fresh air. Then hung his head. "Why?" he muttered. "Why is it so difficult?" The river rolled on. "What am I scared of?"

Izuku stood in the store by himself, starting to shrink into a stiff board. crapcrapcrap I'm alone, what if someone steals me like Mom warned me about?? ...you're a bit big to just be picked up and carried off, you know that, right? Well, yes, but what if-- Images of Shigaraki's hand creeping around his neck came into his mind. Izuku made a worried noise, hand sneaking up to the jacket collar. Oh right. The jacket. I can't pay for it... I don't even wanna know how much it costs, it's gotta be way too much. He shuffled it off, putting it back on the hanger and holding onto it. Don't want them to think I'd try to walk out wearing it or anything.... He busied himself with looking for items for his classmates while he waited for Toshi to be done with... whatever it was he was doing. Probably making a phone call or somethin'.

"Hey," Toshi called out as he returned. "I think I found a few ideas online we could search for here and--" He noticed Izuku had the jacket back on its hanger. "--not your size?"

“Oh!” Izuku turned back to Toshi. “No, it is! Just ready to buy it now!” He smiled up at Toshi, his eyes crinkling happily.

"Did you see anything else we should get?" He plucked a small Mic doll from a pile in a barrel then was delighted to find it squeaked when he squeezed it. "Ok yes," he smirked.

“Eehee!” Izuku grinned at the doll. “Whatcha gonna do with it?”

Toshi winked. "Now pass me your jacket." He squeezed the Mic toy again, his mouth twitched in a mild grin as it squeaked once more.

Izuku passed over the jacket, tilting his head and wrinkling his eyebrows in a question.

"Let's get these paid for and then get ya fed." Toshi tucked the Mic into the jacket pocket. "What's your favorite?"

Izuku blinked up at him. "Uuuhhh"

"Soba? Udon? Takoyaki?" Toshi tilted his head. "...hamburgers?"

Izuku's face lit up. "Katsudon!!"

"Excellent choice!" Toshi tapped his card against the kiosk device, nodded his thanks to the cashier, then handed the bag holding the Silver Age jacket and one (1) Squeaky Mic over to Izuku. "I might know a good spot."

"Great!" Izuku bounced happily. "N we can come back for the other kids' stuff later?"

"Absolutely!" A few moments later found them in a small but bustling shop. A man dressed in smart chef's whites looked up from the table he was speaking to, his face lighting up. "Ah, honorable All Mighf!" he called out, indicated a nearby table. "And friend? Student?" There was a slight squint of intrigue. "Or maybe--?" Oh Lord, not again. "One of my best students," Toshi quickly but proudly replied. "Say hi, Izuku."

He smiled happily and waved. "Hi Izuku!" The words left his mouth before he could think about them. He promptly perished on the spot. "Wait noooooooo...." Those words were muffled by the hands hiding his red face.

Toshi couldn't help it, he snorted into his hand. "That's my kid!" "Ah???" the chef said, eyebrows rising. "Figure of speech, Ryori." If the chef seemed disappointed, he didn't show it. Instead, he happily handed Izuku a menu. "You know I have your teacher here to thank for saving my shop." "Ryori." A silver bell chimed and the chef pointed toward the kitchen. "Go on, ask him. I'll be right back with some miso."

Izuku turned to Toshi with a curious grin, hoping for a story.

Toshi looked back to Izuku then jumped a little. "K-kid!" He coughed then cleared his throat. "It's not that big a deal. Really." His ears were flushing red again.

Izuku rubbed at his own ear and cheek, chasing away the last of the blush. "Aw c'monnn, if I can be good-naturedly embarrassed so can you!"

Toshi rested his chin on one hand, ears still red. "Ok, but I just want you to know, I didn't do it just to get free food for life. I did it because it was the right thing to do." the free food WAS a lovely bonus "When I was younger--a lot younger--i happened to be in the area when a Quirk went haywire. Some poor kid's Quirk had advanced in its abilities and he didn't quite have a handle on it just yet. Something to do with vibrations parsing molecules, collapsing structures. He didn't mean to cause damage, just-- oh thank you, Ryori." The chef grinned as he set the bowls down then waited to hear the rest of the story. "--so there I was, trying to figure out how to get close to the scared kid without being parsed myself, when--" Ryori made a frustrated noise. "Not that story! Tell it right! Tell the story about how you saved my store!" He gestured for Izuku to try the miso.

“I thought that was the story?” Izuku cast a skeptical glance up at Ryori, then quickly ducked his head apologetically when he realized how rude he sounded. “Sorry.”

Toshinori pinched the bridge of his nose but grinned. "All right. All right." "Good man!" "So Izuku, one day I saved this building from collapsing--" "My dear sweet store, when it was still young, ah!" "--and the owner was so grateful--" Ryori proudly rose to his full four and a half foot height. "--that he did what, All Might?" Toshi smirked. "That he served a starving hero some katsudon." Ryori shook a finger in mock anger. "Ungrateful man, tell it right!" "That he served a starving hero the most amazing katsudon he had ever had the pleasure of tasting." Both Ryori and Toshi did the same hand flourish in unison and the blond laughed nervously at Izuku. "It's, uh, our thing." "Have you tried the miso yet?"

Izuku practically had sparkles floating around his head. They’re so cuuuuuute!! The fanboy side of him was in heaven. “—Oh! Ah, not yet,” he smiled sheepishly, taking a spoonful. “—!!” He nodded excitedly, eyes wide.

"So then??" Ryori's eyes bore into Toshi. "So then the starving hero decided he liked it so much, he'd come back again when the store wasn't in danger of burning down or crumbling to bits." "You wound me, old friend." Toshi grinned and spooned some of his miso which seemed to soothe Ryori's ruffled feathers. "The hero returned, again and again. Word soon got around that the great hero All Might had a favorite place to eat." Ryori looked fit to burst from pride. "Guess what happened, student Izuku? Go on!"

Izuku’s eyes crinkled with happiness. “Ah, business boomed?”

Ryori clapped his hands with joy. "Smart boy, clever boy! And that is how All Might saved my store!" "Because goodness knows your cooking--" Ryori held up a wooden spoon threateningly. "--wasn’t getting enough attention and Ryori, please, put that away, I'm only teasing." Mollified once more, Ryori huffed something about making All Might's usual--the scarecrow's delight--then turned to Izuku, pen poised to take his order.

“Oh, uhh—“ Izuku’s mind went blank for a second, but he quickly remembered what he wanted “—katsudon, please?”

The chef grinned huge, then turned and strode back to his kitchen, a man on a mission. Toshi shook his head with a fond grin, sipping at his water. "He really is a miracle worker when it comes to culinary concoctions. People try to say it's because of a Quirk that he must have but no. That's pure talent, plain and simple."

Izuku took another spoonful of miso with much enjoyment. “I believe it!’

Toshi's eyes sparkled with pleasure. "I'm very glad you like it!" The next few moments were spent scrolling through online sites and discussing possible gift options for the rest of Class 1A. This is nice. It's not saving someone from a burning building or punching an evil villain in the face... but it's still going to bring a smile to people's faces and that's what I've missed. Soon, Ryori returned with two covered dishes. He placed both on the table and lift the lid on Izuku's with a grand flourish. "Tada!"

“Oooohhh!”

Ryori moved to do the same with Toshi's plate and the blond gently but firmly pushed the chef's hand away. "It's not that big a deal," he murmured very softly. "Please don't." Ryori's eyes radiated hurt and Toshi immediately regretted his words. But the chef, ever a professional, bowed his gratitude. "Enjoy, as I no doubt know you will!" And with that, he was gone.

Izuku waited to see if Toshi was going to uncover his own dish or not. Surely he will, he ordered it... right?

Toshi rested a large hand on the lid, lost in his own thoughts. Then he looked up. "Oh my word, yours looks positively...wow. Go on! Eat up!" He was quick to look away, mouth watering. Not a good idea. Not as bad as the popcorn but still not a good idea. After a moment, Toshi pulled the lid from his own dish and smiled softly. Even with as little as what Ryori could work with, he still managed to make it all look fantastic.

Izuku didn't want to start eating until Toshi did, despite the urging. That would be so rude... what if he's saying that because he doesn't intend to eat, though... hhhhrhmmm....

"Don't let it get cold," his teacher murmured.

"W...e..e.ll-- ...yessir," Izuku nodded, beginning to eat after all. I guess if he really wants me to but-- "Mmh," he made a soft noise of approval as he started to nibble the hot meat.

Toshi smiled in a confused sort of way. Wait, is he really enjoying himself genuinely....or because I told him to? He poked at his rice, pushing the grains around in their bowl.

"Not hungry?" Izuku asked, then mentally slapped his forehead. "Well. You know what I mean." He set his chin on his hand, looking curiously at Toshi.

Tiny Mental Alarm Alert Toshi took a great mouthful and gave a thumbs up. ....good heavens, Ryori really is a culinary genius. This is delicious. He swallowed too soon, coughed, and pounded his chest, thumb still valiantly sticking up.

"Oh goodness," Izuku laughed softly, "are you okay?"

Toshi wiggled his thumbs up and took another bite with a wink.

Izuku continued eating, his legs swinging happily under the table. It really was amazing, Toshi wasn't exaggerating at all. He avoided making too much of a fuss over something Toshi couldn't eat, though, that seemed unkind.

The blond smiled, quietly pleased. He noted that Izuku was barely talking now. A sign that the food truly was good. The kid's happy. Lookit that grin....albeit with stray rice sticking to his puffed cheeks. Laugh lines crinkled about his eyes. All Might is still making him smile but not with a giant fist in a villain's face. Interesting. Toshi mentally turned this thought over, poking at it. The rice in his bowl slowly disappeared.

((Part 6))

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #izuku #midoriya #deku #toshinori #all might #dadmight #sunflower dad #broccoli son #co-op rp #mander writes!#ducky writes!#fanfic #in the shadow of a smile #itsoas part 5

44 notes · View notes

saharamae21 · 4 years

Text

All of My Wrongs - Chapter Three

Pairing: Topper x OC and Rafe x OC

Summary: Aurora goes dress shopping with Rafe for Midsummers, but she can’t quite pinpoint how she feels about him. Everything he does feels intimate to her, sending reactions through her mind and body. However, the emotional connection just doesn’t seem there yet. She’s scared that she will never be enough for him. Midsummers just might prove that theory right to her.

A/N: Sorry if these first chapters come off as boring. Its going to be a slow moving fic in order for me to really build connections with the characters. I really like it though and I hope you do too… Let me know what you think! I really want some feedback on this…

Also Chapter 4 is almost done

Get Added to this Series Taglist

____________________________________________

I woke up in the morning, smiling at the thought of what laid ahead of me. I was going dress shopping in the morning. Rafe was supposed to pick me up in an hour and I hadn’t even begun to get ready. I rushed into the bathroom to shower, making sure not to get my hair wet. When I got out, I quickly curled my hair and threw on some natural make up. I wondered if it would be enough to live up to Rafe’s standards. I knew I would really have to step it up to look perfect at Midsummers tonight. I slipped a dressy top over my nicest and cutest bra. I pulled on a white jean skirt and observed myself in the mirror. I looked good. I walked down the steps and waited in the living room, feeling pleased with myself.

“Wow Rory,” my dad said upon entering the room. “You cleaned up very nicely.”

I dramatically made a gagging motion at the compliment, smiling afterwards. He chuckled at me and told me to have fun on my date. Before I could correct him, he was gone. This wasn’t a date, but it certainly felt like it. I was dressed up and nervously fidgeting, just like how I imagined I would be for a date. I heard a vehicle pull up to my house and smiled. I slipped out the front door and saw Rafe, proudly staring at me over the handlebars of a bike.

“Wow, buttercup,” he said, looking me up and down. I bit my lips together, feeling my skin heat up under his gaze. I stared at the bike as he got off and handed me a helmet. I opened my mouth to protest, but he just took the helmet out of my hands and placed it over his head. “I’ll go slow.”

The smirk on his face grew with his words. I rolled my eyes at his cocky attitude and hesitantly got on. He told me to hold on tight and I wrapped my arms around his waist. I squeezed my eyes closed as we sped off. My arms tighten around him as initial fear arose. He slowed down after that. Still, I squeezed my eyes shut the whole way there.

The bike came to a stop and I opened my eyes slowly. Rafe’s huge blue eyes were staring back at me, his pupils dilated. He seemed pleased with how tightly I was clinging to him. I dropped my arms and he got off the bike. He helped me pull the helmet off my head and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked. I wrinkled up my nose at his sarcastic tone. “Come on buttercup, we have a ferry to catch.”

The ferry ride to Chapel Hill was long. I stood next to Rafe, his arm slung over my shoulder as I stared at the water below us. My hands were on the rails, but not tightly enough. I felt something bump into my back, sending me into the rail. Rafe’s arms caught me by the waist, making sure I didn’t go overboard. He shot glares at the younger boy who had ran into me. His hands lingered on my waist as he looked at me. I shifted uncomfortably under the attention, making him chuckle.

“I don’t remember you being this shy when we first met,” he said.

“You think you’re so sly,” I muttered, pushing him away from me. I rolled my eyes as I made my way over to the other side of the ferry. I see Chapel Hill in sight and smile at how beautiful it looks. It looked old and serene.

We got off the boat, moving quickly around the dock. He gripped my wrist as he navigated me to a less busy area. From there we walked to the shopping district. It was lined with cute boutiques and fancy shops. I knew I didn’t have enough money for these places, yet I didn’t speak up. I didn’t want to embarrass myself.

We slipped into a small boutique and Rafe’s eyes bounced back and forth. He was scanning the store for something. Then, out of no way, he grabbed my hand and guided me over to a rack of light blue dresses. I stared at him and then back at the rack.

“Why blue?” I asked. I flipped through the rack carefully.

“Well, you’re dirty blonde hair would compliment the soft blue color,” he said, twirling a strand of my hair. Then his fingers brushed across my shoulder. “The fairness of your skin would also accent it well.” I shuddered under his touch. Everything he did seemed so intimate. I brushed his hand off of my skin and focused on the dresses in front of me. One stood out, but the price tag ruined it’s beauty. I flipped past it, but he grabbed it off the rack. He held it up against my body and smirked.

“Perfect. Go try it on,” he said, pushing the dress into my hands. I looked at it, not wanting to argue with him. I smiled and walked towards the dressing rooms. I slipped into the light blue dress. It was covered with a floral bodice. The skirt portion was short, falling just above my knees. It fit perfectly and when I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I smiled. I looked sophisticated and beautiful. I heard Rafe call out for me, wanting to see the dress. I slipped out of the dressing room and locked eyes with him.

“Wow…” he muttered. His eyes stared at me. For the first time, his face had no smirk. There wasn’t a sly smile and he wasn’t undressing me with his eyes. He was staring. He was admiring me. He was smiling, wholesomely. A warm feeling swelled up inside me. “You look beautiful.”

He took a couple steps closer. I looked down at my feet in embarrassment, but he tilted my chin up to look at him. His smile was contagious as his hand caressed my face gently. He treated me like something special. My face was burning under his attention, my skin was on fire. I must’ve been beet red. He flicked my forehead, completely ruining the moment. I laughed and shoved him.

“Hey, we’ll take this dress,” Rafe yelled at a cashier, while taking the tag off. I muttered at him to not be rude and looked at myself one more time. It looked beautiful, but my parents would murder me. I watched as Rafe walked over the counter and pull out his wallet. I ran over and grabbed it away from him. “Don’t worry about it and go change.”

He took his wallet back and pushed me towards the changing rooms. I opened my mouth to protest, but I knew I wouldn’t win. I walked back into the room and slipped off the dress, allowing it to fall carelessly against the floor. I stepped into my skirt and pulled my shirt on over my head. I grabbed the dress, gently putting it back onto the hanger and walked out. They covered the dress with a garbage bag and handed it to Rafe. He thanked them and smiled, slipping his hand into mine on the way out. It was my first time holding hands with a guy. I bit my lip and wondered if my hand was too sweaty.

We walked a ways, neither of us saying a word. I thought to myself intently. I wondered if I liked Rafe or not. He was fun to be around, but I didn’t have a good read on him. I didn’t know if he would be about to handle me. I didn’t know if I could trust him.

We found our way back to the dock, after taking the long way there. His face was contorted with thought as he sat next to me. I wondered what he was thinking about. I smiled at him before standing up and walking back over to the railing. I loved the feeling of the mist against my face. I looked back at Rafe to see him staring at me. His eyes were different than before and it confused me.

He dropped me off at home, telling me that he would pick me up at 7. I smiled and nodded before walking inside. The dress was tucked tightly on my arm. I tried to slip up to my room undetected, but it didn’t work.

“He’s handsome,” my mom said as wiggled her eyebrows at me.

“He’s a friend,” I said with a smile. I didn’t even know if I was romantically interested in him or not yet. He was handsome, but everything seemed like a game to him. He would manipulate me and use me. I could never subject myself to that when I was already so unstable.

I spent the rest of the afternoon, pacing back and forth. I tried to wrap my head around why I didn’t feel romantically about Rafe. He made my heart flutter, but in the end, I couldn’t picture myself in a long term relationship with him. Maybe I just didn’t know him well enough yet.

I found myself in the dress. My hair was in loose waves and I put a white flower crown on. My makeup was light and natural and the freckles on my face accented it well. I slipped on some comfortable wedges and walked down the steps. My parents were waiting downstairs, smiling at me as I descended down the curved staircase. I felt like a princess ready for the ball. When I got to the bottom I heard laughter from my brother and rolled my eyes.

“Skip, leave your sister alone,” dad snapped at him. “You look beautiful, Rory.”

I thanked him and heard a car in our driveway. I told my parents not to wait up for me and walked out the front door. I was a little scared that he would show up on the bike, but instead it was nice sports car. He got out and I say that he was in this awful light blue suit. I couldn’t contain my laughter. He rolled his eyes as he walked up to me offering me his arm.

“Is this why you picked blue?” I snorted as I laughed.

“Shut up…” he muttered and opened the car door for me. I smirked as I got in. We drove to the country club. I made a joke about his suit every chance I could. I could tell I was getting under his skin a little bit, but in a good way. I think he liked to know that I could dish it out as well as he could.

The venue was gorgeous. There were strings of lights and beautiful decor everywhere. I was stunned by the visuals. I grabbed onto Rafe’s arm and we walked out together, receiving some stares from everyone else. We walked about greeting people and listening to others congratulate Rafe and his father. I could tell by his reaction that he didn’t have the best relationship with his dad. Everytime Ward was mentioned, his body tensed. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. I was standing by the drinks when I notice the boy from earlier. He looked troubled. I thought about going over to talk to him, but I had a feeling he would be less than pleased to see me again. I sighed and looked around. Somehow, Rafe had disappeared from my side. I looked around, searching for any sign of him. Instead, I found Topper.

“Hey Bottom,” I said while walking up. He relaxed for a second when he saw me. His off white colored suit looked amazing on him. I couldn’t help smiling. “Hey Rory,” he said. My nickname sounded so foreign coming from his mouth.

“Have you seen Rafe?” I asked. I looked around and still no sign of him. He shook his head and offered to keep me company. I gladly accepted and sighed at the abandonment. How could he just disappear on me like that? I grabbed a drink, noticing everyone was drinking underage. I was sipping the wine and joking around with Topper when I heard my name being called. I handed Topper my glass and walked towards the lobby. Rafe was there with a few of his friends who I had never met before, “See guys,” he said, grabbing my forearm and pulling me towards him. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

I stumbled towards him as he pulled me. He held me in front of his friends, flaunting me like a trophy. I felt my shoulders sink as he showed me off. This night wasn’t about me fitting in, it was about him bragging to his friends. Everything would cycle back to him and I now knew that. I noticed his eyes were huge, his pupils dialated to an alarming size. I also noticed a white powder on his face and stared. He wiped at his nose as he noticed my gaze. He was high out of his mind right now. I frowned, knowing that this must’ve been a coping mechanism. It must’ve taken his mind off of his dad and all the attention that he drew. I felt bad for him, so I didn’t lecture him that I wasn’t his possession. I didn’t destroy his ego. I bit my tongue like I always did. I watched as his eyes shifted over to a blonde boy, not to far from us.

“Run along buttercup,” he said. “I’ll catch up with you later. The boys and I have some business to take care of.”

With that they walked towards the boy, he looked like he was trying to go unnoticed. I wondered who it was and why they were interest in him. I wanted to go after them, but I knew that would only make them not like me. I wanted them to like me. I wanted them to want to hang out with me, but obviously there were more pressing matters to take care of.

“I’m here if you want me,” I mutter sarcastically, before turning on my heels and heading to find Topper again.

___________________________________________

Tag List : @outerbankslut @jellyfishbeansontoast @jiaraendgame @bricksatanakinswindow @outerbongs @kiarascarreras @ilovejjmaybank @potterheadhollander @rudths @spilledtee @queenieloveswriting @multifandomlovess @starlightstarkey @tomhardybby @diverdcwn @sadcupofcoffee

#obx topper #outer banks topper #topper #topper thornton #topper thorton x reader #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx netflix #obx

20 notes · View notes

artistic-writer · 4 years

Text

The Paradox of Light :: CS AU : Rated E :: part 6

Title: The Paradox of Light by @artistic-writer Summary: Imagine having one person, one constant, one love in your life that holds your head when you go under the surface. They will be there forever, holding your hand through everything life can throw at the pair of you, but what happens when a crack forms? What happens when it grows into something neither of you can control? What happens when the one person who was there to guide you becomes an obstacle and rather than hold you up, they pull you down? How do you find your way out of the darkness without your light? Rating: E Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, sexual addiction, domestic violence, fighting, choking, erotic asphyxiation (use in a non-informed manner), depression, death of Liam Jones, panic attacks, PTSD, attempted rape/non-con/dub-con, stab wounds, bar fights, rehab/AA meetings

- but there is a happy ending to this story, i promise.

Author’s Note: I missed this ficversary because of everything that is going on in the world right now, but its been in the plan to re-release it as a multichapter for some time. It’s A LOT otherwise and whilst I initially always intended this to be a one shot, because I wrote it in one go, its not logical to expect people to stop and read so many words in one go. The lovely fanart by @itsfabianadocarmo features in all chapters, so go show her some love!

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!! This fic has a lot of them for a reason. If you want to ask about any, please don’t be afraid to message me.

Part Six [ below the cut ]

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

One Month Later

“Where are you going?” Will asked in a sing song voice, his legs bumping the edge of Emma’s bed as he swung them against the divan base. He fiddled with one of his cars on his lap, his focus on the wheels and how fast they could spin rather than the frantic way his mother was trying to desperately pick an outfit.

“I told you, baby, Mommy has a date,” Emma said nervously. She hadn’t said the words out loud yet, especially not to her son, and as she pulled hanger after hanger from her wardrobe, she felt a little bit hopeless.

“What are you doing?” Will asked innocently, switching his position and rolling the car along the edge of the duvet.

“Trying to pick an outfit,” Emma frowned to herself, discarding yet another on of her dresses aside. She didn’t want to wear anything that would give off the wrong sort of information. She and Killian had met up twice since she had come home four weeks ago, him travelling to New York both times, but they had only been to dinner and a movie, holding hands and agreeing to take it slow. They wanted to start fresh, as odd as it seemed, because they both felt like brand new people with a new outlook on life that they both respected about each other.

“Why?” Will sang, extending the syllable out with a cheeky grin. Emma turned and looked at him, the small child hiding his cherub like smile behind a clenched fist. She pointed an accusing finger his way and narrowed her eyes.

“So I can look good for my date, lightning bug,” she approached him and held out two of the dresses in her hands, laying them over the front of her body one after the other. “Which one looks good? This one? Or this one?” Emma flicked the dresses one after the other, pulling a funny face and twisting her body dramatically until Will was in fits of infectious giggles.

“I don’t know!” He laughed, falling back on the bed and then wiggling upright almost instantly.

“Well, you have to help me pick! How will I know I look pretty if my favourite guy can’t help me decide?” Emma teased playfully.

“You always look pretty,” Will beamed, his rosy cheeks squishing up his eyes as he grinned at her. Emma softened and hugged the dresses to her body, an audible squeak escaping her mouth as she made a cooing noise. She closed the distance between them and sat beside him on the bed, ruffling his hair and brushing his wayward curls from in front of his eyes.

Those eyes. They were the bluest eyes Emma had ever seen with a sea green tint when the light hit them from any angle. They were not like hers, or like his father’s, but instead a whole new shade of azure that she could get lost in for hours, full of kindness and love that she knew would never leave him. He tilted his head back and let her fiddle with his hair, the car on his lap clutched in his hands as he gave her an angelic smile. “Are you okay, Mommy?”

“Yeah, lightning bug,” Emma nodded sweetly, wrapping her arm around his skinny frame and pulling him to her. “I’m perfect.”

“Mommy?” Will asked her, his voice muffled and a little strangled from how hard she was hugging him.

“Yes, baby?” Emma let him right himself, tugging his shirt back into place for him.

“What’s a date?” Will frowned.

“Oh, well…” Emma began but the sound of the doorbell made them both look towards the doorway at the shrill sound echoing through the house.

“I’ll get it!” Will screeched, hopping from the bed and pounding his rubber soled shoes on the hardwood floors as he made his way to the top of the stairs.

“Be careful!” Emma warned him, racing after him and making sure he was grabbing the spindles of the staircase banister with every step. She knew who it was at the door, so she wasn’t worried about Will answering it. She knew he would stop if she had told him to, but she also knew he would be so excited to see who was on the other side she let him go.

“Hey, buddy!” Graham fell into a crouch, arms wide open at the doorway ready to receive a hug.

“Grah-Grah!” Will screamed, the old mispronunciation still sticking with them both and a kind of in joke that only they understood. Will had never called him dad, daddy or dadda, but through listening to his mom he had managed to form the sound of a ‘G’ and, ever the genius, put his own juvenile twist on it. The kid was smart, and sometimes it was scary.

Will threw himself into Graham’s arms and he picked him up with a growl, rubbing the stubble of his beard into the soft skin of Will’s neck and making him laugh. Will stiffened in his arms, struggling to escape as Graham tickled at his side at the same time, the boy finally turning floppy and dangling upside down.

“What are you doing upside down?” Emma teased him, turning her head half sideways to ask the question when she had finally caught up with them at the bottom of the staircase. Will just laughed, clutching Graham’s hands, his face turning bright red. “Thank you for doing this,” Emma told Graham sincerely, straightening herself back up and pushing her hair from her face.

Graham let Will slip from his grasp and watched him run off, his little legs stumbling over his feet more than once as he giggled and dove onto the couch. “No problem,” Graham smiled at her, pulling his shirt back into position and sucking in a breath. “We are going to have fun,” he announced a little louder so that Will peeked at him over the back of an overly large cushion.

“Really,” Emma reiterated. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Just promise me you won’t bring anyone back here,” Graham said quickly, his voice a little darker. He looked away from Will for a second to meet her gaze and sighed. “I don’t want random men around Will.”

Emma stepped back from him and swallowed hard. “What business is that of yours?” She snipped, folding her arms over her chest and straightening her back until she seemed taller.

“Do I know him?” Graham prodded, ignoring her question.

“Again, what business is that of yours?” Emma repeated with a sarcastic tone, her eyes flitting to the twitch of the muscle in his jaw.

“It’s Killian, isn’t it?” Graham sighed, looking down at his feet and planting his hands on his hips. “You wouldn’t be this defensive over anyone else.”

Graham was right and Emma hated that he knew her better than she gave him credit for. Emma looked over her shoulder to make sure Will was not listening but when she was intent he was otherwise occupied with something on the television, she whipped her head back to Graham with a rage she hadn’t known she was holding in.

“How dare you,” she barked, her voice so low only they could hear it.

“So it is him,” Graham smirked triumphantly. “I knew it.”

“What gives you the right to tell me who I can go on a date with, huh?” Emma poked him hard in the chest until he looked back up to meet her eyes. “We are not together anymore, Graham, you know that. Will knows that. I thought we were past this.”

At the mere mention of Will’s name, Graham ground his teeth and held back the words he really wanted to say. He leaned forward and extended an arm towards the lounge, pointing at the small boy sitting on the couch, eyes transfixed on the TV in front of him. “That boy in there gives me the right, Emma. I’ve been there for him, for you, and I’m sorry that was never enough for you but I love Will and he deserves to know...”

“He knows,” Emma spat, interrupting him and making Graham move back in surprise. She knew exactly what Graham thought he could use as some sort of leverage, but it wasn’t going to work. The second she had found out she was pregnant Emma had vowed to never lie to the life growing inside of her about anything and he might be young, but Will was smart. He understood more than Graham gave him credit for.

“Forget it,” Graham shook his head and held up his hand dismissively. “I tried to be understanding about this. I tried to be the bigger man, for Will, but there has always been this disconnect between us, Emma. I will never understand why, after everything he did to you, you love him so much.”

“No, you won’t,” Emma said stiffly, her entire body rigid with determination. “Now go. If you can’t handle this, then walk away,” Emma told him calmly. She reached behind him and yanked the door open, the wooden door jumping free from the frame with a squeak she had never fixed.

“Fine,” Graham growled. “I hope you enjoy your life, Emma. I won’t be around to pick up the pieces this time.”

When he slipped out of the door, Emma knew it was for the final time. She had expected too much of him for too long, and just like any normal human being, Graham had not been able to handle the friendship that followed a failed relationship. They thought they could be friends, for Will, but it seemed Graham was of the jealous ilk and would never change, only hold a grudge. That wasn’t the sort of person Emma needed in her life, and it was not the sort of role model Will needed.

“Mommy? Where did Grah-Grah go?” Will looked confused, his tiny frame standing in the doorway of the lounge with sadness plastered on his face. Emma pushed the door closed and sighed, turning to face him with a forced smile.

“Grah-Grah had to go,” Emma told him softly, moving to scoop him up in her arms. She held him tightly, kissing his temple and inhaling the scent of his children’s body wash that made him smell like candy.

“He’s not coming back, is he?” Will pouted sadly. Emma hugged him tighter, shaking her head with a sigh.

“It’s just me and you now, lightning bug. Me and you.”

Without a sitter, Emma was stuck. Graham was her last chance to actually go on a date tonight, and since he had decided he couldn’t handle seeing her with another man, she had no choice but to call Killian and cancel. Unfortunately for her, Killian had taken an earlier flight to New York and was already in town, so instead they had decided to spend the evening in and order a pizza.

He had arrived earlier than expected and she was just putting Will to bed. After agreeing to give her a few minutes, Killian had perused the lounge, taking in the decor and looking at the photos that Emma had adorning the mantlepiece. Most were of Will, a small wisp of a boy with barely any body fat who had a brown surfer style hairdo that sat in a heap of curls on his head. His eyes were almost emerald blue in colour, darker than Emma’s but not quite as green as hers and Killian figured he must have inherited them from his father.

As he moved along the photos, there were a few of a trio that caught his attention. Emma was cuddling Will on her lap as a toddler, his hair much blonder back then, and a tall, handsome man had his arm around the two of them. He had a short, cropped hairstyle but his mousy brown locks were unmistakably curly and his eyes a deep blue. Killian felt a pang of jealousy invade his heart, the happy family photograph something he had always dreamed he would have with Emma.

“That’s Will,” Emma said from behind him and Killian jumped a little, mouth open like he was about to say something. “And Graham,” she said a little more darkly.

“I was just looking,” Killian defended his snooping immediately, the warmth of a blush creeping up the skin of his neck.

“I should take them down,” Emma said idly, moving through to the kitchen and pulling a drawer open to fish out a few takeaway menus.

“Did you get Will to bed okay?” Killian offered a change in subject and moved to the couch. He heard Emma clattering around in the fridge, jars and bottles clinking together in the door as she pushed the door close with a click. He heard the twist of a bottle and as she appeared with two beer bottles in her hand, he stared at her in shock.

“Don’t worry,” Emma assured him with a grin. “They are alcohol-free.”

Killian grinned at her, taking the bottle, the outside wet in his palm. He scooted sideways on the couch and Emma dropped into the space beside him with one leg tucked under herself. “And Will went off without a hitch, thanks for asking.”

Killian took a swig of the non-alcoholic beer and savoured the taste on his tongue, the familiar bitterness of hops and bubbles coating his mouth and offering him instant refreshment. He hadn’t had a drink since Emma had left, alcoholic or not, but he had learnt that it was never the taste he had been addicted to in the first place but the freedom to get lost in the effects of being drunk. He didn’t ask why Emma had non-alcoholic beers in her fridge but he figured it was just to avoid the constant reminder of their past from her life.

“We can go out another time,” Killian suggested softly, turning his body sideways so he was facing her. His elbow dug into the back cushions of the couch and he rested his hand to her hand, smiling at her sweetly. “This is nice actually,” he said, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Just the two of us.”

“You forget the little person upstairs,” Emma rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and pointed to the floor above them, earning her a chuckle from Killian who couldn’t stop his hand tangling in her hair. Their little touches had become more frequent and left her with a greater yearning each time that grew stronger and stronger each time he was in town. Emma nuzzled her face into his hand and turned her face until she kissed his palm.

“Are you okay?” Killian asked her gently.

“Just tired,” Emma assured him. “It’s been a long week.” Killian arched his eyebrows at her in agreement, holding out his bottle until she bumped hers against it. They both took a sip of the ice cold beer and smacked their lips together afterwards.

“It’s over now,” Killian told her in case she had missed the start of the weekend. “And I’m here now, so you know, it’s a million times better.” He grinned boyishly and gave her a wink, earning him a pathetic slap to the chest.

“My hero,” Emma mocked, instinctively leaning into him like old times. He felt softer than she remembered, his chest aged and changed with a weight gain that she didn’t find unattractive at all, and she moved her hand until it was resting against the edge of his open collar. She spied his chest hair jutting out from his shirt and couldn’t stop a giggle as it tumbled from her lips.

“What’s so funny?” Killian wrapped his arm around her, holding her to him and letting his thumb stroke the side of her arm. It was nice to hold her again, her skin so familiar under his touch and yet so different, changed by years of hardship and courage. He tried to look down at what she was seeing, but he couldn’t look past the jut of his chin.

“You’ve gone grey,” Emma teased, plucking at the white hairs erupting from his shirt.

“Not only there,” Killian laughed. “Things are a bit snowy down south too.”

“Oh my god,” Emma cackled, burying her face in his shirt to hide her amusement. Killian laughed with her, unashamed by his admission because it put a smile on her face which was what he pretty much lived for nowadays.

The last three months had been a lot of long distance texting and phone calls late at night, a lot of flirting and even more innuendo that when they were together got pushed aside for a more subtle and intimate time together. They held hands and they snuggled, enjoying the warmth and security of each other’s embrace, something they had never had before. They had agreed to take things slow, much to Emma’s aggravation, but she respected his reasoning and reluctance to make love to her again so quickly.

However, she felt like she was drowning on dry land and if the rains didn’t come soon, she would most certainly would do something drastic.

“I’m scared I am going to end up looking like a polar bear,” Killian said, his thumb poking into the top of his beer bottle.

“Want me to do a quick recon of the situation?” Emma cooed sweetly, lifting herself out of his embrace and taking stock of his almost school boy look of panic. “Purely professionally,” Emma shrugged with a wink.

“But you are the sheriff,” Killian narrowed his eyes at her and tried to force himself not to smirk too excitedly.

“I’ve had special training,” Emma purred, pushing herself up onto her knees and moving to straddle his lap. Killian reached beside them and set his beer bottle on the table beside the couch before planting his cool hands onto her hips and holding her in place across his lap. They had already got to this stage last time, stopping themselves from going all the way like some horny teenagers abstaining from each other, but this time she was ready.

“Are you okay?” Killian asked her softly, resting his head back on the back of the couch.

“I’m ready,” Emma whispered against his face, cupping his scruffy cheeks in her hands and smirking against his parted lips. They were so close, breathing the same air and she felt the heat on the tips of his elfen ears under her fingertips.

“You are?” Killian gulped, his cheeks turning crimson and his hands increasing their grip on her hips as his eyes flitted between hers and her mouth. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips and he sucked in a breath when he felt Emma grind down onto his lap.

“I am,” Emma nodded, rolling her forehead against his. Her voice was deep and scratchy like she had been shouting all day, and she let her hands slip from his face and began to unbutton her blouse.

Killian shivered, his stare glued to her hands as they nimbly worked the buttons through their holes. His heart took off in his chest, racing to keep the blood flowing to his extremities. He flexed his fingers against her hips, thumbs rubbing over the jut of the bone and felt himself get hard as he watched Emma undress. She was going so slowly that Killian had to shift his weight to relieve some pressure in his pants, her weight rubbing the solid length of him through his jeans and making him groan low in his throat.

Emma kissed his mouth, lips sliding sideways across his face and over the apple of his cheek. Killian’s head lolled backwards, his eyes fluttering closed as Emma’s kisses were seared into his flesh, the skin under her lips igniting with every touch. She kissed his ear, nuzzling the skin behind it with her nose and then trailed her tongue down his neck, kissing back over the same area to wipe away the wetness she had left. Emma sat back a little, tugging her arms out of her blouse and Killian gasped, sucking in a quick breath that made Emma stop suddenly and pull back.

“Are you okay?” Emma asked him gently, her finger hooking under his chin and lifting his eyes to hers once she had discarded her blouse. Killian was almost despondent at losing the sight of her ample cleavage, but he did not resist her, nodding with a warm smile.

“Aye,” he croaked.

“We can stop at any time,” Emma told him, her hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. She pulled and twisted the buttons through the holes until she was at the bottom, pulling the edges apart and gasping at the sight she had missed so much. He was just as hairy as she recalled, scattered white hairs intermingling with the black just like on his head, and she felt her core clench at the sight. Killian sat forward and helped pull his arms free from his sleeves, both of them settling back into their original position sans their shirts and hands brushing against bare skin that had been calling out for the other for years.

“I just want us to be happy,” Killian whispered against her lips, their faces almost touching once more.

“I’m happy,” Emma smirked flirtatiously, arching her back so that her breasts were cradled at his eye level once more, the flesh heaving in her bra with each ragged breath she took.

Killian shot a glance down between them to where his jeans were painfully tighter and he chuckled shyly. “So am I,” he growled.

Emma surged forward, grabbing his face and pulling his lips to hers. The kiss was slower than before, soft lips and languid tongues massaging each other as they groaned into each others mouth and hands roamed over every patch of exposed skin they could find. Killian pushed his tongue deeper into her mouth, the vibrations from her groan sending a shiver down his spine and causing his stomach to fall away from him.

“Bedroom,” Emma mumbled and looped her arms around Killian’s neck as he grabbed her ass and lifted her up into his arms as he stood. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her body into his, the planes of his chest and the tickle of his chest hair just as delectable as Emma remembered.

“Which way?” Killian stumbled towards the stairs, almost falling over when he tripped on some discarded toys at the the side of the couch. Emma laughed in his arms, shaking her loosely curled golden locks over her shoulder and sucking on her bottom lip. Killian looked at her, flushed and wanton and knew he needed to hurry before he came from her sultry teasing alone. “Which way, Swan?” He demanded with more haste, his fingers snapping her bra open and pulling the material down her shoulders.

“End of the hall,” Emma panted, holding on to him for dear life as he ascended the staircase, cursing under his breath when he stood on a squeaky floorboard and Emma hushed him midway along the landing. “Careful!” she giggled, burying her face in his neck to try and stifle her laugh.

“Shhh!” Killian paused outside of her bedroom door, slamming her into the wall with a force that made her squeak in pleasure. He dipped his head, kissing the underside of her jaw and leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake as he travelled lower, tongue darting out to taste the swell of her breasts.

“Mommy?” Will called out groggily from his room and they froze. Killian had managed to shake his jeans half way down his thighs and his erection was poking Emma in the inner thigh, the adrenaline rushing through both of them with the fear that Will’s bedroom door was about to open. Emma grabbed Killian’s shoulders and made him stop moving, pressing her finger to his lips as he gave her a wide eyed stare.

“It’s okay, L-Bug,” Emma called out in a soft whisper. “Go back to sleep.”

They paused, waiting for the sound of a small child walking across the bedroom but no sounds came from Will’s room. Killian’s arm muscles burned with the burden of holding Emma aloft, but he couldn’t help himself and pulled one of her nipples into his mouth. The nub pebbled instantly against his tongue like it had never been anywhere else, the taste of Emma’s skin making Killian growl.

“God, Killian…” Emma whimpered, eyes fluttering closed.

“I think he’s asleep,” Killian whispered into the valley of her bosom, sliding his tongue over the plump mounds as he moved for the other nipple. Emma pushed her back off the wall and encouraged him to suck harder, fingers carding in his hair and gently tugging on the soft, dark mass between her fingers.

“One more second,” Emma pleaded, her body betraying her words.

“I don’t think I have a second,” Killian laughed, his voice hoarse and his legs shaking from staving off his release. “I need you. Now,” he grunted into her ear, rolling his hips against hers and pinning her to the wall.

Emma knew as soon as they crossed into her bedroom things would change. They were no strangers to each other’s bodies, knowing each other more intimately and emotionally than anyone could ever have known. They had been through so much, shown each other the worst that they could be and driven each other into the lowest depth of despair, but that would never happen again.

Killian was falling in love with her all over again. The way that she moaned under his kisses, the shiver in her muscles and the breathless way she called his name like only he could make her. They fell into each other, hardness and softness combining in the sweetest ecstasy, their bodies pressed together so closely that Killian wasn’t sure where he ended and Emma began. He would never forget the sounds she made as she came, her fingers clutching the comforter above her head and the gentle waves of contracting muscles rippling up and down his length sending him into the light directly after her.

They were giving each other a second chance to right their wrongs, starting with tonight.

Killian stayed the night, which was odd, waking up with Emma asleep across his arm again. At first he thought he was dreaming and last night hadn’t happened, but then she stirred and raked her fingernails down the expanse of his chest hair, her toes curling over the shape of his calf, and he smirked to himself. There had been no frenzy to the way they made love, each savouring the other like a fine wine or a culinary delicacy that they would only experience once, and with a content sigh, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time.

“What time is it?” Emma mumbled against his chest, her eyes rolling around behind her eyelids.

Killian smiled at her groggy state, craning his neck to press his lips to her hairline. “It’s just after six,” Killian said, whispering because of the early morning. Emma’s eyes flew open in a panic and she scrambled to the edge of the bed, leaning over the edge with a grunt and grabbing his shirt. She pulled herself back onto the bed and tossed the material at him, brushing the hair from her eyes with a heaving breath.

“Get dressed!” Emma screeched in a hushed tone, clutching the comforter to her chest and covering herself up. “Quick!” She urged him with wide eyes, waving a hand towards the en suite.

Killian frowned at her and his hand jumped to the patch of skin behind his ear. He was blushing and he couldn’t hide that it was because she was naked, even more glorious in the rising light of day than he had remembered. “Why? What’s wrong?” He fretted, pulling his shirt on hurriedly and searching the floor for his boxers. They had been discarded in a hurry last night and he wasn’t exactly sure where they had ended up.

“Will!” Emma said quickly, locating his boxers and tossing them across the bed towards him.

“Will?” Killian caught his underwear and hopped from one foot to the other as he put them on. “What does your son…” Killian began but just as he had managed to pull on his boxers, the door flew open and a rather sleepy child barrelled into the room. He was dishevelled from sleep, one of his pant legs caught up around his knee, and he was missing one of his socks. He rubbed his eye with one hand and dragged his bear with the other seeming to ignore Killian altogether as he clambered onto the bed.

“Hey, L-Bug,” Emma chimed nervously, pulling on an old t-shirt she had found in one of her drawers. Killian looked at it hard, recognising it as one of his old college tees that he had lost a long time ago but Emma brushed off his puzzled expression with a nudge of her head towards the door. “Did you sleep well, sweetie?”

The only sound Will made was a grumble, the sleep unsuccessfully rubbed from his eyes as he crawled into Emma’s bed and snuggled down into the duvet. He nodded into her pillow, clutching it in his tiny fingers as he sighed. Killian padded barefoot from the room, mouthing the word ‘coffee’ to her with a smirk. Emma nodded thankfully and perched on the edge of the bed, stroking Will’s hair as he snoozed.

“So, Will sleepwalks?” Killian smirked, fully dressed now and pouring the steaming hot coffees into two mugs he had found in one of Emma’s cupboards. “Right into your bedroom.” Emma let out a breath, settling at the dining table and hanging her head in her hands with a giggle. She was still wearing his college shirt, her pajamas pants hanging low on her hips and exposing a tiny bit of the flesh of her stomach. Her body had changed with pregnancy, her hips a little fuller and her skin a little loser, but Killian found it endearing, like he was getting to know a whole new Emma.

“Every day at six,” Emma nodded once in agreement. “Every day since he was three.”

Killian made a sound in his throat and handed her her coffee, cream and two sugars, just the way she liked it. He stood beside her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, rubbing the curve of the bone through the tee. “I thought I’d lost this,” he said idly, plucking at the grey fabric.

Emma turned and smiled at him sweetly, her eyes still heavy from their lack of sleep and her hair a mess. She looks beautiful, even more than before they broke up, her cheeks still the same rosy softness and her lips still the same, perfectly curved and kissable. Killian matched her smile, his lips turning up on one side before he bent over and gave her a sideways kiss. It was soft and gentle and so slow that Emma couldn’t ignore the ache low in her stomach and the hum of content on his lips.

“What are you doing to me?” She sighed happily, wrapping her hand around his arm and tracing the outline of his bicep with her fingers. Killian simply quirked a brow, a modest smirk on his face. “I mean it, Jones. I’m so confused right now.”

Killian grabbed the chair beside him and slid it across the tiled floor until he could sit closer to her, his coffee sitting next to hers on top of the wooden surface between them. “What do you mean?” He asked her with a frown. “Do you regret last night?”

“God, no!” Emma said with a smirk, recalling the way she had felt with his head between her legs. Killian caught her reminiscing and poked his tongue out to lick at his bottom lip agonizingly slowly, the taste of her still lingering on his lips, his eyebrow jumping up on his face once more. “No,” Emma said firmly when she caught him watching her. “It’s just…”

“Talk to me,” Killian pleaded gently, leaning forward and pulling her hands into his. “We can’t do this again if we are not honest with each other.” His fingers were hot on hers and her palms a little sweaty from clutching the steaming hot coffee mug for so long. His fingers danced up and down her forearms, his touch almost soothing her and chasing away her worries. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can…”

“Mommy?” Will’s voice interrupted them and Killian jumped back, sitting back up in his chair and clearing his throat.

“Hey, baby,” Emma cooed, twisting her frame in her seat and reaching with open arms for her son.

“What are you guys doing?” Will looked between them, eyeing Killian suspiciously. He had only met him briefly before now and Emma wasn’t completely enthused by the idea of him knowing too much at the moment.

“Well,” Emma started, looking to Killian and extending the syllable to give her a little more time to come up with an answer.

“We were talking about breakfast,” Killian offered casually, giving Will a small smile. “What does a growing lad like yourself eat for breakfast?” Killian took a sip of his coffee and awaited Will’s reply.

“Pop tarts!” Will declared with a squeak.

“You do not,” Emma declared, aghast. Will looked at her and hunched his shoulders, hiding his face in his hands as he giggled nervously. Emma jabbed her fingers into his side and he wiggled on her lap as she tickled him. “Nice try though.”

“Oh, you are a scoundrel,” Killian noted, pointing a finger at Will who just gave him a grin. Killian winked at her knowingly. “How about pancakes?” He offered and Emma looked at him surprised.

“Can we have bananas on top?” Will asked excitedly. “And chocolate sauce?” His voice jumped and he almost fell from Emma’s grip when he shuffled to the edge of her knees in his eagerness. Killian looked at Emma who nodded at him, but when he looked back to Will he gave a look of feigned disgust.

“If you must,” he sighed with a dramatic eye roll. “You ever made pancakes before?” Killian asked him and Will shook his head shyly. “Well, in that case, how about I show you?”

“Can he, Mom? Can he show me?” Will screeched excitedly, bouncing up and down in her arms.

“Okay, okay,” Emma conceded and Will shouted gleefully, slapping his hands on the tabletop. Killian leaned forward on his elbow and held out his hand, his palm flat and open. Will grinned cheekily and slapped Killian’s hand with his own followed by a bout of his infectious laughing.

In the time it had taken Killian to rise, Will was at the other side of the kitchen and dragging his stepping stool towards the counter so he could be the right height. Killian gathered the ingredients, some he had discovered earlier whilst looking for the coffee mugs, and some with Emma’s help. Will awkwardly pulled up his sleeves and bobbed up and down on the stool. “Yay!” He sang like he had never been so happy.

“You don’t have to do this,” Emma told Killian on a whisper, snaking her hand around his waist and pressing her body into his side.

“I want to,” Killian beamed at her, cracking an egg into a plastic bowl. No sooner had the yolk settled in the curve of the bowl, Emma’s phone rang and she sighed with a groan. It was her work phone, likely something important even if it was the weekend, so she had no choice but to answer it.

“Do you mind?” Emma asked sorrowfully, nudging her head towards Will. The youngster was watching Killian with a fascinated stare, tilting his head like a puppy at the way the eggs sat side by side in the bowl but did not mix.

“I think we’ll be okay,” Killian nodded reassuringly and Emma gave him a little wink.

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised, walking backwards from the kitchen and turning at the last second to answer her call. Killian turned back to Will, handing him a sieve. Will took it, twisting it in his hands and inspecting it with a frown.

“What’s this?” Will asked innocently.

“That’s a sieve,” Killian said with a smile.

“What’s it for?” Will looked up to Killian hopefully, genuinely intrigued.

“Ah, well,” Killian began, moving the bowl of eggs in front of Will and helping him to rest the sieve across the top of the bowl. He reached for the bag of flour and shook some of the fine, white dust into the curved sifter, watching intently until he was sure he had emptied enough flour into it. Killian and Liam always made pancakes and he rarely needed scales to make sure his amounts were spot on, instead using his eye and a confidence in cooking he had learned from his brother. Once satisfied with the amount, Killian rolled the top of the bag down and set it aside, giving Will a wooden spoon and pointing to the bowl. “Tap the side of the bowl,” Killian instructed with an encouraging smile.

Will look confused for a second but when he hit the spoon on the side of the plastic and a layer of flour drifted through the sieve onto the eggs below, he shrieked in delight. He tapped again, and again, until the entire amount of flour had fallen through, looking up at Killian with a proud boyish grin. “I did it!” He declared, clutching the spoon in his hands tightly.

“Good lad,” Killian nodded, giving Will a thumbs up.

“What next?” Will asked excitedly, peering into the bowl.

Killian added a pinch of salt, a glug of milk and then he began whisking the mixture, making sure to beat the lumps out with the most effort. Half way he stopped and offered the bowl over to Will, helping him grip the whisk properly and showing him how to hit the side of the bowl repetitively to create a light, fluffy mixture. Will’s tongue poked out as he worked, his little arm tiring quickly and his whole body sagging with effort.

“Come on,” Killian encouraged with a laugh. “I thought you were strong?”

“I am!” Will laughed back, his shoulders sagging as he gave Killian a pleading glance and pushed the bowl towards him. “But you are stronger,” he noted. “You should do the most work.”

Killian couldn’t help but laugh again, the feeling of genuine innocence at Will’s words doing something inside of his heart that he had never felt before. There was a short pause with him just looking at the boy and seeing Emma’s cherub cheeks and her wonderful smile duplicated on the face of her son, the gleeful glint in his eyes the same one his mother had when she was a teenager. “You are a clever lad,” Killian told Will softly, resuming his whisking, checking the batter for lumps periodically.

Will leaned forward on the counter, head propped up on his elbow as he watched the bubbles in the batter pop. “Are you my new daddy?” He asked sweetly, not looking up as he did.

Killian’s face paled instantly and he swallowed a hard lump down his throat. It must have been hard on the boy to see Emma and Graham separate. He remembered how confusing it was for him when his parents decided to divorce, and how he had his older brother to see him through, guide him into adulthood without his father figure. Will didn’t have that, being an only child, and Killian stopped his whisking to turn and face him.

“I’m afraid not,” he told him sadly. “Do you miss your daddy?” Killian asked him softly, dipping his head to catch his eye.

Will nodded without taking his hand away from his face. “Mommy said he had to go away.”

Killian’s heart decided in that moment to split in two, the sadness laced in Will’s tiny voice, not yet old enough to realise how much of an effect what he was saying could have on anyone. “We can be friends, if you’d like?” Killian offered, letting the whisk roll against the side of the bowl and extending his hand out to Will. “I’m Killian,” he smiled with a nod.

“That’s a funny name!” Will chortled, covering his mouth with chubby fingers.

“Well, what’s your name?” Killian looked at Will with narrowed eyes.

“I’m Will,” the boy chirped, taking Killian’s hand and giving it an exaggerated shake. “Nice to meet you!” His antics made Killian chuckle inside and he suppressed a giggle.

“That’s a great name,” Killian told him. “I have a friend called Will. Good people are called Will.” Killian let his mind wander to the number of times Will Scarlett had been there for him. If it wasn’t for Scarlett and his friendship, Killian may never have come home from service, and he would certainly have drunk himself to death by now.

“Thanks,” Will sang, poking at the whisk like he wasn’t supposed to touch it. “It’s short for William, but Mommy never calls me that.” Will picked up the whisk again, poking it through the thickening batter. “I was named after my uncle. Mommy says he was a good person too, like my daddy, but Daddy is away right now because he was sad about Uncle Liam going to live with the angels.”

There were no words to describe the feeling of when the world falls out from under you and envelopes you at the same time, but Killian was pretty sure he had just felt it.

He felt the blood drain from his face, a slight dizziness washing over him as he felt his heart rate pick up in his chest. His breathing became laboured, his armpits turning suddenly hot and damp and every hair on his body standing on end at the same time.

Will was oblivious to how his words had struck him, the finality of what his brother’s death really meant to him hitting home once and for all, and the boy continued to prod the batter in the bowl. Killian frowned at the boy, watching the profile of his face, flashes of Graham from the photographs playing over in his mind. Graham had a round face whilst Will’s was much thinner, and his nose was different, curved rather than pointed. His lips were Emma’s and his cheeks were hers too, but his eyes were a sea green that he knew ran in his lineage. Killian reached out and brushed his hand through Will’s hair, parting the curly brown locks and revealing the soft point of an elven ear, the boy unaware to what he was searching for.

“Uncle Liam?” Killian croaked, his voice breaking a little, his fingers lingering over the back of the boys head tenderly.

“Yep,” Will said with a nod, standing up and turning to rest his behind against the counter. He fidgeted his feet, bumping them together. “William is like Liam, but not the Irish version.”

“How old are you, Will?” Killian asked, forcing a smile. “Do you know?”

Will gave him a wide, toothy grin and nodded confidently. “I am four and a half years old,” he declared happily, holding up four fingers and pinning half of his pinky finger back down. “That’s this many!”

“Okay, boys, I’m done,” Emma called out as she walked back into the kitchen, head down and fingers tapping at the screen of her phone as she set it back to the menu screen. She looked up, Will giving her his best boyish smile that reminded her so much of someone else she knew, but the contrast in his rosy cheeks to the panic and paleness in Killian’s made her freeze. She didn’t have to ask, she knew.

He knew.

“Will, honey, why don’t you go and play with your dinosaurs?” Emma encouraged him, not taking her eyes from Killian’s who was staring at her scandalized. He tore his gaze away the second Will jumped from the stool obediently and ran to his mother, hugging her legs and looking up at her with hopeful eyes.

“Can I help Killian flip the pancakes later?” He pouted, looking back at the man behind him who had turned his back on them both and was hunched over the bowl of batter once more.

“Sure, L-Bug,” Emma ruffled his hair, watching the ripple of muscles in Killian’s back flex each time he clenched his fists and then stretched out his fingers on the countertop. Will ran off, thanking Killian for teaching him how to make pancakes as he thundered up the stairs one step at a time, all the while singing to himself about his dinosaurs.

“Killian,” Emma said softly, his name on her lips full of silent apologies.

“It’s okay,” Killian turned to look at her, his mind reeling. “I mean, I think it’s okay,” he shrugged, moving to sit at the table once more and burying his face in his hands.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Emma joined him, grabbing his hand as she sat down beside him. He was in shock, she knew that, staring blankly at nowhere and the muscles of his face twitching with thought. “I wasn’t sure how you would react, if you would even want a baby,” Emma said, the back of her throat swelling a little with emotion. He didn’t answer her, mouth agape and eyes fixed on the wall in front of him.

“Did you know?” Killian said, his voice breaking a little as his own tears threatened to put a crack in his voice. “When you left, did you know?”

Emma looked down at her lap and sighed. “I was eight weeks pregnant that night,” Emma swallowed hard, her voice echoing with the hurt she felt that night. Killian pinched his eyes closed, a tear finally rolling from his eyelids. He was ashamed beyond comprehension. Not only had he attempted to take Emma’s dignity by force, but he was absolutely sure that back then, the life growing inside of her would not have stopped him even if she had said.

“You did the right thing,” he gulped, finally turning his head to look at her with a nod.

“I wasn’t going to raise a child in that toxic, destructive environment,” Emma justified with a squeeze of his hand. “I wanted to change, being pregnant made me see that, but I wasn’t convinced that you could put a child above everything else.” Her voice broke, the tears finally spilling from her eyelids and the tingle in her nose starting as her sinuses become inflamed.

“I wouldn’t have,” Killian agreed. “I was selfish and despicable,” Killian spat, his words so full of venom for his former self that he could hardly believe how far he had come. “I didn’t even recognise that thing I was, Emma. I don’t hate you for leaving, and I don’t hate you for not telling me about Will. You did what was right by our son, and that is all that matters.”

Emma sucked in a breath, her lips quivering. “Our son?” She beamed at him with watery eyes, her fingers gripping his harder.

“I wasn’t ready to be a father,” Killian shook his head, reaching out to cup her face in his hand, his thumb tracing over the curve of her chin and wiping away her tears.

“How about now?” Emma asked hopefully.

Killian’s breath hitched with a nervous laugh before he moved forward to kiss her, lips shaking against each other, their faces so close that their tears mingled together against their skin. Emma shuffled forward on her chair, her knees bumping his and Killian tangled his hands through her hair, the softness caressing his fingertips and making him feel warm once more.

“Pick a partner who knows what she is doing,” Killian whispered against her lips as he broke the kiss and nudged her nose with his.

“What?” Emma chuckled, stroking the side of his face tenderly, still in a little daze from his kiss.

“Parenting,” Killian clarified, sitting back in his seat. “You know what you’re doing, right?”

“I’d like to think so,” Emma smiled sweetly.

“Then I choose you. I pick you. And if we falter, I’m sure we can work it out.” Killian gave her a happy grin, winking when she playfully tapped his hand with hers. They were the same words he had used when she told him she loved him over a decade ago, but now they were very different people and so much had happened between them. And they had a son, who needed them both to be the best people they could be and make sure he did not stray from the path, like they had.

Emma’s lips twitched into a small smile, the image of Killian in his prom tuxedo still fresh in her mind. He was just as handsome, if not more now, with a silvery edge to all his body hair that she absolutely loved. “Together?” She teased, echoing her teenage words.

“Together,” Killian nodded, squeezing her hand in his. It was the second time he would make the promise, but it would be the last time. Nothing could tear him away from his family now that he knew he had one, and as if on cue, the sound of Will’s footsteps hammering down the wooden staircase roused them both from their loving stares.

“Mommy!” Will called out as he ran into the kitchen. He was waving a piece of paper that depicted some figures drawn in front of a house, one with yellow hair and green eyes, one with black hair and blue eyes and between them a shorter figure who had brown hair and darker blue eyes. “Look!” Will chimed, slapping the paper to the table between them.

“Oh, you drew a picture,” Killian observed with a tilt of his head and a squint. “Of…” He began, struggling to see what he was actually looking at.

Will looked up at him with a frown. “It’s us!”

“Of course it is!” Killian declared, just as jovially and Emma smirked at him over Will’s head.

“That’s Mommy,” Will continued on, pointing to the yellow haired figure who was wearing blue pants and a red sweater or jacket of some kind.

“So pretty,” Killian whispered, keeping Emma’s gaze.

“And this is me.” Will didn’t even stop between breaths, or notice Killian’s attention had changed from his drawing to his mother.

“I thought you were taller,” Killian teased, tearing his eyes from Emma long enough to cock his head to one side and make Will laugh hysterically. “And who is this handsome fellow?” Killian tapped a finger to the tallest figure with blue eyes, black hair and what looked to be cocktail sticks shooting out of the bottom of his oval shaped face.

“That’s you!” Will told him proudly and before Killian had time to question his appearance, Will clarified his thought. “With your spiky beard!”

Emma couldn’t hold her laughter anymore and when Killian screwed up his face, clearly uneducated in the ways of children and how they had no filter, the sound sprang from her mouth making them all jump.

“You did a great job, L-Bug,” Emma said politely, covering her mouth as more giggles threatened to escape.

Killian smoothed his hand over the drawing, the crayon waxy under his touch, until he reached the bottom corner where there was a name. His brow knitted together. It looked familiar, an initial and a surname that made Killian’s lips spread into another smile and his heart swell with pride. “W Jones,” he breathed, not even realising his words were out loud.

“Yup!” Will shifted closer and his tiny body pressed into Killian’s knee, his warmth like a calm that Killian had never felt before. “William Jones,” he smiled up at Killian, both of them looking almost identical with their wide, boyish grins and slightly rosy cheeks. “I can’t write William yet though, so I just draw a ‘W’.”

“L-Bug, do you remember when I told you your daddy went away for a while?” Emma leaned forward, grabbing Will’s shoulders and pulling him into her embrace, hunching over and resting her chin over his shoulder. Will nodded, staring at Killian. “And do you remember how mommy told you that your surname was Jones, just like your daddy’s?”

Will nodded. “That’s why yours is different,” he said confidently.

“That’s right,” Emma said proudly. She kissed the side of his cheek, much to his disgust and then pointed over at Killian who was fidgeting nervously. “Why don’t you ask Killian what his last name is?”

Will paused, looking over the man in front of him. His fingers twisted together, not through nerves, because he was the most confident child Emma had ever met, but because he wasn’t sure how to say what she was sure he had already worked out. “Is your last name Jones too?” He asked softly, hand reaching up to scratch the patch of skin behind his ear.

“Aye,” Killian nodded.

“That means yes,” Emma whispered in Will’s ear. “Killian is your daddy,” she told him softly, the redness around Killian’s eyes unmistakable when Will’s face erupted in the largest of smiles.

“Daddy!” Will screamed, pulling free of Emma’s embrace and rushing forward. Killian was ready, arms open in a second and he pulled the boy into his embrace, holding on like he would never let go. Emma had never lied to Will about his father, skipping over details that a child didn’t need to know, but she had always encouraged him to love his father and if she was completely honest, she had hoped this day would come. “You came home!” Will cried into Killian’s sweater, his voice breaking as his emotions overtook him.

“I’m home,” Killian sobbed, his breath hitching a little as he held his son, tiny arms grabbing onto the material of his sweater and holding on for dear life. “I promise I am not going anywhere ever again.”

There was nothing else left to say that hadn’t already been said. There were no more tears left to cry after that day, only bridges to build and hearts to mend in the only way having a child could. Killian doted on Will and made sure that he felt loved more than anything in the world, giving him everything he could possibly afford and then some. Will returned the favour ten-fold, even if he had no idea how simply being himself had such an effect on his father.

Their journey had been long and the road laid out in front of them had no clear end, but two years later when Killian cradled their newborn son in his arms, he had a different story to tell when he attended each meeting, and he would make sure this one had a happy ending.

#cs au #hurt/comfort #the paradox of light #tpol #icymi

23 notes · View notes