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#i was walking my dog when i had this picture of five climbing up somewhere really awkwardly
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When you fall asleep in their room
For characters: Jeremie Belpois, Odd Della Robbia, Ulrich Stern, William Dunbar
note:
gender neutral reader.
for girls edition here
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Fighting X.A.N.A. was a job that should come with more coffee, you think as you sway through the halls of the Kadic dormitory.
Classes were over for the day, and so were your detention duties at the library and the garden shed.
The library duty was actually Aelita's, but before Jim could brand her with detention, you had swooped in to take the blame. It had become an unspoken rule amongst the others that Aelita -- baby angel -- shouldn't go through any more than she was already going through, so if she was in trouble for something, they would do anything for her.
Come to think of it, that's how we began, anyway... you think sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you find the room you're looking for. There is never any need to knock -- you just open the door and make a beeline for whatever free space is available.
A voice calls your name just as you plop headfirst onto the mattress.
"I'm crashing here." you announce before making yourself more comfortable and snuggling against the pillow.
You hear a chuckle and a reply.
Jeremie:
"You're as bad as Odd these days."
You're already asleep by then, so Jeremie just smiles to himself and gets back to his work on the antivirus.
However, he cannnot get work done.
Your relationship is fairly new, but the two of you have actually been friends throughout Kadic, but these naps mean something else to him now that you're both romantic partners.
It's not the first time you've crashed in his room unannounced, but that's the thing -- he likes it! He loves that you feel like it's a safe place for you to let your guard down.
You actually sleeping in his room also encourages him to work harder so that he can wow you with his techie prowess by making more progress on something that would help them fight X.A.N.A.
After a few minutes, though, he locks his bedroom door and crawls into bed beside you.
His sleep schedule is whack now, but because of that, he knows when Jim would come on rounds -- in fact, he can tell from five rooms away -- so he wants to nap with you for a while.
Sometimes he just lays with you for a while, listening to your breathing sounds (it calms him) before getting back to work.
Sometimes, he kisses your forehead and naps with you, with your foreheads touching as you lay side by side.
Odd:
"Hold on, sweetie, I'll join you too."
Ulrich: "Again?!"
Odd, and you at the same time: "Piss off, Ulrich."
Ulrich shrugs and either a) goes somewhere else or b) plugs in his earphones and chills there itself.
Odd loves cuddles!
He settles Kiwi down (or has him join too, if you're a dog person) and joins you on the bed.
You hum and nuzzle into the crook of his neck with your arms around his waist.
Odd actually cried out of joy the first time you did this. Ulrich has pictures.
Now he smiles and hugs your waist back, resting his chin on his head and closing his eyes.
Both you and Odd fall asleep within minutes.
If either of you gets warm or your limb falls asleep, you automatically switch positions in your sleep.
Odd can do anything in his sleep. One time, he dog-walked Kiwi while asleep and the gang had no idea what to do with him until Yumi came to the rescue (Hiroki probably had sleepwalking episodes).
Both of you wake up to a) Jeremie alerting them all about X.A.N.A., b) Jim coming on rounds, c) Kiwi jumping on Odd, or d) Ulrich drawing on one of your -- or both -- faces.
Ulrich:
"At this rate, you're practically my roommate, babe."
He crawls into bed with you, with a couple kisses on your face (this is when Odd isn't around or when Odd is napping too). "But I don't mind."
When Odd's there, he's just less cheesy and just climbes onto bed.
Ulrich is either sitting next to you or lying down next to you. He may not feel sleepy when you do sometimes, but he wants to be next to you when you're napping in his room.
Sometimes he finds your hand and plays with your fingers.
Odd: "You've got a real finger thing, Ulrich."
Ulrich: "Shut the hell up, Odd, and if you wake (y/n) up, I will bring hell to you."
When he naps with you, he prefers to be the big spoon and you the little spoon. I feel like Ulrich doesn't necessarily like the feeling of someone breathing on him.
Sometimes he hums to you (Odd can be present for this, he doesn't care).
Sometimes he whispers how much he loves you and how happy and lucky he is to have you (this happens when Odd can't hear him be cheesy).
William:
"Oh, babydoll..."
William loves you coming over like this.
He does not care if he has homework, a call with his parents, or even a goddamn exam -- he will join you.
Unless there's a X.A.N.A. attack, ofc.
He snuggles up next to you and strokes your hair as you slowly fall asleep.
He does not move away from you one bit.
Sometimes he reads poetry or classics to you and you hum back and sleep.
Then William slowly moves your head to his chest (if you didn't already do this when he came to cuddle, that is) and keeps running a finger or two in your hair.
If you're somewhat awake enough, you move up to his face for kisses and he happily obliges.
"I love you,"
"Mm, love you too, baby."
Sometimes, William just stares at the ceiling, his mind wandering as he strokes your hair and cuddles you in your sleep. Sometimes, he joins you.
Jim knows about this because he has caught the two of you on multiple occassions in the same month.
After the fourth time, though, he just gave up and let you two be.
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survey--s · 2 years
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342.
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When was the last time you climbed over a fence? Uh, I don’t remember, but probably fairly recently when I was dog walking. I often end up climbing over things to fetch balls back for the dogs lol.
Does your pet wear a collar? Archie wears one when he’s on walks, but not in the house. The cats stay iside so they don’t wear collars. They’re too much of a strangulation risk IMO.
What is the first thing on your Christmas Wishlist? A horse, hahah. I would LOVE one but the cost and commitment is just too much. I’d need to put the horse on livery and that would just cost too much money for us right now.
What would you do if your mom/dad saw a hickey on you? Laugh it off, lol. I mean, I’m married, they know I have a sex life. I hate hickeys in general though.
What goal are you working on this month? Cantering down the beach in a week! I’ve cantered really well in lessons these past few weeks so I’m sure it’ll happen. I’ve been waiting for months and I’m SO glad I can finally do it.
What could you say is your biggest time waster? The internet in general, but lately BeatStar which is insanely addictive, and also reading FundieSnark on Reddit, hahah.
When was the last time that you were asked out somewhere, and you declined? I can’t remember the last time I declined specific plans, I’ve been out pretty much everyday this week.
If you’re listening to music, name a lyric from the song.  I’m currently watching My 600lb Life.
Are you a sound sleeper? I wish. I wake up at every little noise/movement and it’s so frustrating. No wonder I’m pretty much always tired.
In your opinion, which is more attractive, nice biceps or washboard abs? Nice biceps.
How do you feel about bands that use pyrotechnics in live concerts? I’m not really interested, I prefer small, intimate venues.
Why do you hate your ex? I don’t hate him, I just don’t particularly want anything to do with him.
Does anybody hate you? Not so far as I know.
If you were pregnant, who would you tell first? My husband, but that’s not gonna happen.
Do you think that you’re good enough for the one you like? I think that’s such a weird way of thinking about relationships. It’s not healthy.
Did you speak to your father today? No.
What is your father’s middle name? Yeah, I’m not putting that on here.
When was the last time you had alcohol? About nine months ago. I don’t really drink.
Last person of the opposite sex you gave a hug to? Mike.
Have you ever met anyone who claimed to be a witch? Yeah, one of my cousins is into all that stuff.
What’s the weirdest thing in your body that you can crack? My toes.
Do you know anyone with asthma? My mum is asthmatic, though she never really needs an inhaler anymore.
Have you ever been involved in a custody battle before? Nope.
Who was the best kisser you’ve ever dated? Mike.
Have any of your siblings ever had a crush on your significant other? I don’t have any siblings.
Are your siblings nice the majority of the time? ...
Any other names your parents planned to give you? Alexander if I was a boy.
Are you healthy? I could be better, but I could also be a hell of a lot worse.
Number of jeans in your closet: About five pairs.
Rihanna or Lady GaGa? Rihanna.
Which was the last book that really captivated you? I can’t remember. The Night Circus, maybe.
Do you prefer nail polish with sparkles in it, or matte colors? Matte colours.
Have you ever had a teacher you got really close with? No.
Can  you actually picture yourself getting married/having kids, or is that  something that seems too distant in the future to imagine? I’m already married but I have absolutely no interest in having children.
When’s the last time you spent time with your cousins? Uhh. The last one I saw was Catherine and that was about five years ago. They all live overseas.
What’s your younger sibling’s name? ...
Do you have an idea of what kind of profession you’d like to have? For now, I love being a dog walker.
Do you ever pick up your house phone? We haven’t had a landline since Archie was a puppy. He chewed through the wire so when our package was up for renewal, we just cancelled the phone bit of it as it was just a waste of money.
Is your sister a slut? I hate the word slut.
Do you ever think about what went wrong in your first relationship? No, we were just kids.
If you had to get a piercing (not ears) what would you get? Uh, I have no desire to get anymore piercings.
If you could sleep with one famous person, who would it be?   None of them.
If you woke up naked next to the last person you texted what would you say? Nothing.
Ever been kissed under fireworks? Yeah.
How would you react if a doctor told you that you were infertile? I’d probably fairly relieved, in all honesty.
Do you get along with your best friend’s parents? I mean, my best friends’ parents are my in-laws lol. We get along well enough but we’re very different. 
Have you ever been in a relationship where you didn’t get along with the person’s parents? No, thankfully not.
How many people of the opposite sex have you said “I love you” to? I don’t really keep track of that kind of thing.
The person you fell the hardest for says they never felt anything for you. What do you say? He wouldn’t say that to me.
Who was the last person to tell you that they find you attractive? Mike.
What was the last compliment you paid to someone of the opposite sex? I honestly can’t remember.
How often do you listen to music? Everyday in the car.
Have you ever wanted your significant other to get rid of a friend? No.
Is the person you last texted single? We’re married.
Have you ever seen the last person you kissed without their shirt on? Sure, everyday.
Is the last person you kissed mad at you? No.
Has the person you like ever made you upset? Sure, we’re married, we live together and we’ve been together over six years - of course there have been arguments and stuff in that time.
Scenario: If you were getting unwanted attention by some creeper, would the person you like stand up for you? I’m not gonna lie, he’d probably punch them in the face lol.
Does the person you like, know that you like them? I mean, we’re married, so I would imagine so.
When angry, do you get loud or quiet? I tend to rant a lot but not necessarily loudly or to other people.
Have you ever been in a secret relationship? No.
Have you ever danced in front of your mirror naked? Sure, when I was younger.
Are your grandparents still alive? No, my grandparents passed away at least six years ago.
Ever been in a car accident? Yes.
If you got married to the last person you kissed would you be happy? We are married.
Do you like any of Justin Bieber’s songs? I don’t really know any of his songs.
Do you believe saving your virginity for marriage or no? No, personally I think that’s absolutely ridiculous.
When you were a kid, did you ever like Barney? Yep, I LOVED Barney and watched it all the time lol.
When was the last time you kissed someone? Earlier today.
What’s the capital of wherever you live? London.
Did you have any beer this past week? Nope.
Have you ever had champagne? Did you like it? Yeah. It’s okay but personally I don’t get the hype.
Do you like to cuddle? Hmm. I have to be in the right mood for it and I don’t like it when it’s warm and I get all sweaty and feel all claustrophobic.
Do you think you’ve changed over the past year? Definitely. I think I’m much happier and much more confident.
When was the last time you talked to your grandmother?   Both my grandmothers have passed away. Maybe 15 years ago for one, and 7-8 years for the other.
Have you ever phoned a sex hotline?   No.
Do you sleep with the door open or closed? We have the bedroom door open but the door to downstairs is closed so that the cats and dog are kept separate overnight.
Have you ever caught a friend cheating on their bf/gf?   Hmm. Not caught as such, but I knew about it.
When was the last time you saw your grandpa? Again, both my grandfathers have passed away. I maybe saw one about eight years ago and the other 12 years ago? 
The last time you had sex, was it in their bed or yours? Our bed.
List one of your fears:   Getting dementia or Alzheimers.
Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? Sure.
Do you know anyone who drinks a lot? Not anymore. The only person I did know like that, was an alcoholic and eventually drank herself to death.
What do you think your significant other/crush likes the most about you? You’d have to ask him.
What are your plans for tomorrow? Hopefully I’ll get some sleep. I’m exhausted.
Have your parents ever told you stories about the day you were born? Not so far as I can remember. It’s not really something I’ve ever asked about.
How long have you been using Tumblr? I’ve had Tumblr on and off for about a decade, I think, maybe longer.
Who was the last person that you introduced to your family? Uhhh. Suzanne, a client of mine lol.
Your period is a few days late… are you worried? Nope.
Do you know all the words to the last song you listened to? I don’t remember which song that was.
Does your significant other/crush like chocolate? He loves chocolate, but mostly that sickly white stuff. Bleurgh.
Can your significant other/crush sing? He really can’t, lol.
Have you ever seen your father cry? No.
Who was the last person you added as a friend on Facebook? How do you know that person? Nel. Her husband is our window cleaner, lol.
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man-arly · 3 years
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This idea popped into my head and now I had to write it down...
What if Five can't spacial jump? He can only control time, but like better than he can in the series, so that he can also slow time down or stop it altogether and everytime we see him "spacial jump" he stops time, walks to wherever he wants and then starts time again.
No one knows that he can't teleport and he will never tell anyone, because when they were like 5 years old five accidentally stopped time for the first time and he freaked out, didn't know what to do and started panicking, before he figured out how to unfreeze everyone, and when time started moving again, his siblings where like 'omg, you can teleport, that's awesome!' because in their perspective five just kinda moved from one side of the room to the other within a second, and he was to embarrassed by his almost breakdown to correct them and then it suddenly was too late to come clean, so he just has to live with everyone thinking he is s teleporter.
And also:
Everytime he "jumps" onto something above ground, he has to awkwardly climb up there and he will make sure that his siblings will never find out about that.
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miracleonice87 · 3 years
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4 // Coney Island for our boy Tyler
from the evermore prompt list
“The question pounds my head, What's a lifetime of achievement / If I pushed you to the edge?” - coney island
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He couldn’t possibly be doing this.
As you and your three children, five and under, stood waiting in the hallway, you found yourself glancing at the clock hung on the wall every thirty seconds or so. With each minute that passed, the sinking within you opened up wider, threatening to swallow you whole.
Tyler should’ve been home by now. The game ended an hour and a half ago, and you and the kids had left the arena with a couple minutes left to ensure you’d make it home in time to pull off the surprise. The kids had burst through the door to grab the cards they had made earlier in the week, and you headed to the freezer to retrieve the cake you’d arranged to have sent all the way from Tyler’s favorite bakery in Brampton.
You sighed as you heard the kids excitedly buzzing around the first floor, wishing that you could feel even an inkling of the giddiness they had ahead of their father’s arrival. Things between you and Tyler had been strained for many months, and you had to battle your own bitterness to even acknowledge his birthday at all. You told yourself you were doing this for your kids. For the kids — not for him.
But as the clock neared 11 with no sign of Tyler, anxiety hummed within you. He had bailed countless times in the last few months — hell, in the last few years, if you were being honest with yourself. But today was his 35th birthday. The kids had been at school and daycare all day and hadn’t yet been able to give him the traditional birthday hugs and kisses that had become customary in your family since your oldest was born. He knew you were here waiting, the kids now long past their typical bedtimes.
There was just no way he could possibly do this.
Just as you were about to suggest that the kids head upstairs and put their pajamas on while they waited, your phone buzzed in your back pocket, the blood draining from your face as the hope drained from your heart.
The kids were still giggling and bouncing around, entertaining each other, blissfully unaware of the chaos brewing inside you. You took the opportunity to silently slip through the French doors into Tyler’s office to take the phone call.
Of course, it was him. You wondered what excuse he would carelessly toss your way this time around.
“Hello?” you answered, keeping your voice low.
In the background, you heard a commotion, jovial voices sounding like those of his teammates.
“Hey,” Tyler said dryly. “I, uh, I just wanted to let you know that some of the guys and I decided to hop a flight to Vegas tonight instead of going with the team tomorrow. So I won’t be coming home.”
You leaned against his desk and laughed humorlessly, switching your phone to the other ear.
“That’s great,” you breathed. “That’s just fucking... that’s fantastic, Tyler. Thank you for telling me now.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, this is why I don’t tell you shit,” he threw back. “I’m always the bad guy.”
Red hot rage boiled in your throat as you growled through gritted teeth, “Your children are waiting for you, Tyler.”
You heard him sigh, seeming to weigh what to say next. When he said nothing, you pushed. “What am I supposed to tell them? Huh? What would you like me to tell our kids, who have been waiting all day to see you and hug you and kiss you and eat birthday cake with you? Should I just tell them Daddy decided he’d rather go drink and gamble and party with his friends than come home to us?”
“No!” Tyler spat. “That’s not true. I—“
“Oh, it’s not?” you asked, your voice inadvertently rising. “Then tell me, Tyler, why the fuck are you doing it?”
You heard him draw a breath, expecting an immediate rebuttal, but instead you heard only his teammates calling for him.
“I have to go,” Tyler said, his voice raspy. “Tell the kids I love them and I’ll be home after the game tomorrow night.”
“You’re joking,” you huffed. “You’re really going to do this?”
As you spoke, tears brimmed in your eyes and you gazed across the dim room at your framed wedding photo that sat on the bookshelf. The two people in the picture looked like strangers to you now. You doubted you would ever know them again.
“I gotta go,” Tyler repeated in monotone. With that, he hung up.
Anger surged through you, and you allowed a few broken sobs to pass through your lips before shoving your phone in your pocket and swiping beneath your eyes to dry your tears. With a deep breath, you forced a smile and walked back into the hall.
“Mommy, where is Daddy?” your three-and-a-half year old daughter asked. You scooped her up and kissed her smooth cheek, devastated that Tyler could choose anything over these moments with your kids.
“You know what, Uncle Jamie asked Daddy to come with him early to Las Vegas to, um, to get in lots of good practice before they play the Golden Knights tomorrow night,” you told her as you smoothed your five-year-old son’s hair, the disappointment visible on the faces of these eldest two. “But, you know what? He told us to go ahead and have a slice of birthday cake before we go to bed. How does that sound?”
At that, they all cheered, even your newly two-year-old little boy, who clapped excitedly beside his brother, bringing a sad smile to your face.
“Can we still sing Happy Birfday?” your daughter asked, twirling your hair around her little hand affectionately and shattering you further.
You weren’t sure how much heartbreak you could handle at this point. You kissed the tip of her nose and nodded.
“Sure, baby,” you obliged, sniffling. “We can if you want to.”
_____
To some, it was sure to seem sudden.
To you, it seemed like it had been a long time coming.
When you heard the door slam and the dogs start barking, you knew the time for a reckoning had finally come.
“Hello?” Tyler called into the house, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. You didn’t bother to provide a reply.
Eventually, after you heard him drop his bags and greet the dogs, he climbed the stairs, and you hated the way your heart rate sped up automatically. He called your name, but again, you gave no response. He eventually found you in the bedroom, alone and silent.
“What are you doing?” Tyler asked, eyes scanning the suitcases lining the wall. “Where are the kids?”
You sighed, sitting back on your haunches and pausing folding your clothes.
“I’m packing, Tyler,” you answered, unable to look him in the eye. “The kids are in Fort Worth with my parents.”
“What do you mean, packing?” Tyler asked, brow furrowed as he took quick steps toward you. “Packing for what?”
You leaned back on your palms, rolling your head to try to ease the ever present tension in your neck, preparing for battle before slowly standing to your feet. You crossed your arms across your chest and found his startled gaze.
“Packing to leave, Tyler,” you answered, faking confidence. “Last night was the final nail in the coffin for me. I cannot, and will not, continue to do this to my children. To myself. I just, I won’t.”
Tyler’s eyes were wild as he came closer, grabbing your upper arms desperately.
“Baby, please, I don’t—“ he began, stuttering. “How can I fix this? How can I keep you here?”
You pried his fingers from your biceps and shot him an infuriated look.
“You know what would have been a good start?” you fumed. “Coming home to see your children on your birthday. Spending the night with your family instead of hopping a flight to Vegas. But Tyler, honestly, this has been over long before last night. Let’s not kid ourselves.”
As you moved past him to gather a bundle of your shoes from the closet, Tyler was hot on your heels.
“Listen,” Tyler said pleadingly, holding his hands up in front of him in surrender. “I know things haven’t been good lately. But please, just... just don’t do this. Don’t do this to me.”
You spun around in a blur, the ice in your gaze freezing Tyler in place.
“Do this to you?” you scoffed. “What about our children, Tyler? What about me? Huh? Do you think I actually want to leave the father of my kids? Of course I fucking don’t. Never in a million years could I have thought that this would happen. But here we are. Living separate lives. It’s about fucking time I just make it official.”
Tyler was nearly panting now and he heard his heartbeat within his own ears, spinning his wheels as he wrestled with what to do, what to say, next. You pushed past him with a newfound sense of urgency to finish packing as quickly as possible and get the fuck out.
Finally, Tyler found his voice again, though it was choppy with subdued sobs.
“But what does all of it matter if you’re not here?” he found himself asking as he watched you zip the bags. You shook your head from where you knelt on the floor.
“Maybe you should’ve asked yourself that earlier, Ty,” you suggested angrily, glancing at him in fury.
With that, Tyler sunk to the bench at the end of the bed, beginning to hyperventilate as he watched you stack the kids’ bags on top of your own. He held his head in his hands and begged, “No, no, please, don’t go, please, please forgive me,” as you readied the last of the belongings you were taking with you.
You started to feel your resolve wearing thin, tears threatening to spill and weaken the brave face you were pulling. You forced yourself to cross the room, pull off your rings, and place them on top of Tyler’s dresser. He watched on helplessly, and as you leaned back against the familiar piece of furniture, you finally summoned the courage to say the words you’d been preparing in your heart for months now.
“I fell for this illusion of this life I’d get to live with you, Ty,” you began. “This life filled with this passionate love we found when we were so young, and evolving into this everlasting commitment to growing a family together, not to mention never having to worry about earning a living, and getting to watch you do what you love night in and night out, with our kids. But somewhere along the line, that illusion finally faded for me. You coaxed me into this life and then you left me here.” As you spoke, tears fell from Tyler’s brown eyes, filled with sorrow and regret. It used to wreck you when he cried. Now it just made you angry. You pressed on.
“I go to bed at night and you’re not here, and I wake up and you’re not here, and even when you’re here, you’re not here. I don’t even think you wanna be. Our kids don’t even think you wanna be.”
Your voice wavered as you delivered those words, and Tyler hung his head.
“You used to be the one place I wanted to be, Tyler,” you continued. “And for a year now, I’ve broken my soul in two looking for you. But I can’t find you. I can’t find the person you used to be. You leave me hanging every single day. Despite the times I’ve begged you over and over again to come back to us. I won’t let you continue to disappoint our family like this.”
You wiped your tears away with the backs of your thumbs and pushed off the dresser, approaching the suitcases and preparing to begin the hardest task you’d ever had to attempt — living a life without Tyler.
“I’m sorry,” he cried in despair, sniffling as he watched you approach the doorway.
“I’ll always love you, Tyler,” you offered softly. “I just can’t do this anymore.”
As he watched you walk out on him, Tyler questioned everything he thought he knew about the life he was leading. What’s a lifetime’s worth of accolades, awards, and achievements if he pushed the ones he loved to the edge?
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jinkicake · 4 years
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Meow~
The Third Gym Squad with a s/o who loves cats and has catlike traits/habits.
Akaashi Keiji x Reader
Bokuto Koutarou x Reader
Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
Tsukishima Kei x Reader
Hi Anon~~ I hope this is good,,, I kinda wanted to learn more about the catlike traits so I read a few articles about similar traits in humans and cats. That’s why there are traits under each clown because it goes with the scenario I wrote for them..... I hope that makes sense. LOL My friend also loves cats and I think that quirk of hers is really cute!!! 
p.s. I’m updating my masterlist tonight so I won’t be doing any #/sarahtalksshit LMFAO,,, I’ll come back in the morning and check my asks!!! 
WC- 1,903
~~~
Akaashi Keiji
Timeskip Akaashi is literally a cat dad, you can’t tell me he isn’t a cat person 
Please you guys would totally have cats together, you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t have like three cats
You two would have the perfect cat family </333
Akaashi would always get you cute little cat accessories,,, if he sees a keychain with a cat he snatches it and gets it for you 
Maybe he would get one for himself because it reminds him of you </3
You might have to fight your cats for Akaashi’s attention,,, be prepared
Akaashi loves when your cats randomly cuddle up to him like when they are in the mood for his attention, he loves that and will happily give them all his affection so yeah.... you are gonna be jealous of some cats that’s for damn sure
He is like here is my love,,, my snuggles and kisses~ 
And you’re standing there in the corner like.... Keiji where is my kisses? 
You’d be the type of s/o who really helps Akaashi relax,,, he feels calm with you and it’s probably because he trusts you so much!!!
Agreeableness
“I want attention, give me attention.” You throw yourself across Akaashi’s lap, already making demands for him to satisfy your needs. Akaashi glances down at you, holding his phone out of the view of your face. He taps the tip of your nose with his finger and smiles while his eyes soften. 
“Hmm, what do you want?” He asks playfully and you turn your nose up at him, Akaashi simply leans down to kiss your cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, his phone starts to go off with a text from Bokuto. “Want to go eat somewhere in Shin Okubo?” 
You take your time to mentally think about it.
“With?” You pause cautiously and Akaashi shows you the text, clearly from his captain. “Omg yeah, let’s go! Do you want to go?” 
Akaashi presses his face into your shoulder, preparing for the mess that goes down whenever you and Bokuto hang out.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun.” He smiles and you have a slight feeling that it might be forced. “You guys always have so much fun together.”
“Keiji, are you jealous?” Your mouth falls agape but your boyfriend shakes his head, disagreeing with your question.
“No, but you guys get along really well.” He pouts and you blink at him.
“So you’re jealous?” You ask again and Akaashi refuses it once more.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Maybe.” He sighs and you cheer as you know you’ve won. 
Bokuto Koutarou 
Bokuto is literally a dog, scratch that. He is literally a puppy
He is so energetic, the two of you were like opposites attract
It’s that cute didn’t get along at first but now you can’t get enough of each other and are always seen cuddling type of relationship
I feel like Bokuto and cats would not get along at first either, even your own cats, he would have to become a cat person
He just wants to cuddle them right away and hug them but it’s like Bokuto.... cats don’t really like affection like that
You’d probably break his heart by telling him that
Bokuto wants to show them how much he loves them!!!! He would definitely support you getting cats, he would be soooo excited
When you guys get an apartment and move in together, he will decorate it with cat furniture like a cat clock and cat mugs 
Your favorite things have become his favorite things
Bokuto is a very sweet boyfriend, I’ve said it five million times before,,,, he is very attentive and always takes care of you 
Impulsiveness
“Come on, let’s go out!” Bokuto tugs on your ankle, trying to pull you off the bed. You simply ignore him, rolling your eyes and tossing the blanket over your head. “Please, it’s so nice out.” He begs and pulls you harder causing half your body to fall off the bed.
“No.” You narrow your eyes and climb back onto the bed, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. Bokuto sulks and lays down next to you, throwing an arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. 
The two of you lay like there for another hour and Bokuto successfully falls asleep. You internally coo at how cute he is and take a picture of him before placing your phone down beside you. After unwrapping the blanket from around your body, you swing one of your legs over his waist and sit upon his hips.
“Kou,” You lean down and whisper, poking at his cheek gently. “wake up.” Bokuto stirs slightly, not at all giving you the attention you want. “Wake up!” You whine louder this time and lightly pat his cheek. “I want to go out now, Koutarou!” 
Bokuto’s eyes flutter open, he blinks a few times while trying to shake the sleep out of him, and he manages to say one thing.
“Babe, now you want to go out?”
Kuroo Tetsurou 
Truthfully I had been thinking about this one as I was mentally planning out how each mf would react…. Is Kuroo a cat or a dog?
Because when you think about it,,, it’s like duh you dumb bitch he’s a cat but…. But hear me out….. Kuroo would be a FANCY Doberman pincher you know? 
Much like Bokuto, I think he would want to give cats all his love but he knows how they react and how they aren’t very affectionate
Good thing he has you because now,,, you’re going to get double his love because he can’t love on the cats.... Kuroo was already clingy in the first place....
If you get this man a sweater or hoodie with cats on it,, he will wear it proudly like that becomes a staple piece in his fashion
Whenever Kenma looks at him weird Kuroo tells it’s just because he’s jealous he doesn’t have a cat hoodie,,,, Kenma goes quiet because it is true
Kuroo would pick up on some of your traits easily because,,, Kenma. Pudding head is basically a cat, we know. I feel like I always bring up Kenma when I talk about Kuroo and it’s like well duh,,, they’re a package deal 
Kenma literally made Kuroo into the great boyfriend he is
Back to this. Cats sleep a lot, don’t they? Kuroo is always prepared for when you fall asleep in public, whether that be in class or on the train…. My man is prepared with his shoulder ready for you to sleep on 
Kuroo seems to be the type who is aware of his surroundings, especially if it is somebody he cares about…. Cue him growing up with Kenma,,, omg there I go again bringing in Kenma! Therefore,,, he will be oh-so-careful with you </333
Dominance
You narrow your eyes at the group of girls crowding around your boyfriend, the sight makes your blood boil. The way they stare up at him and purposely flirt with him, you can see it all. You try to calm yourself down, take a deep breath while momentarily closing your eyes. When you open them, they are still there. 
Those girls know Kuroo is dating you, everybody does. Yet, they still have the audacity to touch them as freely as they do even while Kuroo uncomfortably pushes them off. 
You stand up straight, rolling your shoulders back as you try to get your temper under control. The dominance is rolling off of you in waves but, when it comes to your boyfriend, you can’t help yourself. With the confidence only a bitch like yourself could have, you walk towards the group and purposely push yourself between Kuroo and the girl next to him. 
You glare at her and place your hand on his chest, staring all of them down as you wait for any of them to say anything. 
“Mmm, that’s what I thought. Now go run along and see if you can find any leftovers that still want you.” The insult flies past your lips and the girls gasp, their mouths falling open before they turn away and leave. Kuroo stares down at you, his eyebrows raised in disbelief and you innocently look back up at him. “What?”
“Nothing, kitten, that was fucking hot."
Tsukishima Kei 
Bruh, Tsukishima is a cat, you’re literally dating a cat
He seems like the more introvert type of cat like the ones who don’t like people and would rather stay home,,,,,
You two are a perfect fit, the judgmental couple that looks down at everyone HAHAH yeah you guys talk a lot of shit
I feel like there might be instances where one of you would try to be spontaneous and suggest going somewhere and then the other would just flame them and say what a terrible idea that is
Tsukishima has never asked if you wanted to go to McDonalds at 2am ever again,,,, you really have to kiss his ego after laughing at him 
You’re probably Tsukishima’s person, obviously if he is dating you, like you’re the only person he puts up with….. besides Yamaguchi,,,, of course
You know how Tsukki loves his little dinos? You love cats and he would probably think that is so fucking cute, is he ever going to tell you that? NO. 
Just know that he is thinking it and whenever he sees a cat he thinks of you and takes a picture of it to send to you because let’s face it. Tsukki is always thinking of you
Are cats sensitive? If they aren’t, let’s pretend they are for my Tsukki is sensitive statement because I am sidebar-ing for a second. That bitch is sensitive okay like you even graze your hand against his thigh and it’s like new ambition unlocked and by ambition,,, that means he wants to fuck you... This has nothing to do with the rest of this but I just wanted to put it out there
Tsukishima is the perfect protective, shit-talking boyfriend and honestly, as much as I say I dislike him…. I really do love him because he is the boyfriend I would want,,,, truly probably one of my top picks to be my boyfriend from the haikyuu clowns
Extraversion
“The losers wanted to know if you want to go to the festival this weekend,” Tsukishima throws out into the air randomly one afternoon. You glance up from your phone, lifting your head up from his chest as you try to guess his reaction. 
“What do you think?” You respond back with your full chest, eager to hear his response. 
“You think I want to go?” He snaps back and you have to refrain from flicking his glasses. 
“Well since you told me a few days before I think I can mentally prepare, can you?” Tsukishima winces at your words, he really does not want to hang out with the other first years this weekend. 
“I guess.” He mumbles and you sigh.
“We don’t have to, they know we keep to ourselves.” You try to remind him but Tsukishima continues to scroll through his phone, not looking at you. 
“That’s true.” You push yourself up and bring your chin to his chest to see what he is typing. He sends Hinata a maybe. “That’s enough socializing for the day.” Tsukishima tosses his phone somewhere else on his bed before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and burying his face into your neck.
“Can you imagine if one of us was extroverted?” You joke and your boyfriend lets out an audible groan.
“Don’t paint me such a nightmare.”
~
Taglist.
@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @lovellucy @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee
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ashketchup119 · 3 years
Text
Four Years To Get There
If you or a loved one remember when I used to write regularly for hypzag/zagnos, you may be entitled to a senior citizen discount-
I didn’t want to post all of my hades stuff, but I think this one is really cute. My fanfiction writing and my original story writing are two different styles, because fanfic is my domain to go crazy go wild.
“So, four years stuck with my brother? I don’t envy you.” Thanatos commented airily as he made coffee.
Zagreus, who had woken up ten minutes prior and was staring morosely at the countertop, looked up when Than started speaking, and frowned. “Hypnos isn’t that bad, Than. He’s actually nice to be around. And he hasn’t made ‘morning person’ into a personality trait, unlike other people.” He smiled after saying this, in a teasing manner aimed in the direction of Than’s back.
Than hmph-ed and said nothing more. 
The rest of the morning passed by as usual- Than went to work, Zag went to the gym and to walk Cerberus, Than came back for an early lunch, and the two of them exchanged pleasantries at the junction between their personal schedules- Than half out the door, Zag on his way in. The two of them had been roommates for two years, and had become comfortable with this routine.
Earlier that week, though, Zag had gotten an email saying he’d been chosen to work as a bodyguard for a diplomat headed on a mission to a planet where rumors of attack had been swirling, with instructions on how to get to the port and what to bring. In total, it was meant to last about nine years- four years to get there, a year on the planet, and four years to get back. It was quite the commitment, but he didn’t mind overmuch. It’s not like there was much waiting for him on the planet he lived on currently- just his friends, who assured him they’d text and video call, and his dog, who had already been approved to come with him.
The evening before, Zag had found out the name of the diplomat he was supposed to work for. It was Hypnos! His roommate's twin brother! The two of them weren’t very close, but he was kinda relieved to know there’d be another friendly face on the ship.
After greeting Than on the way in, he began packing, using the sheet he’d been sent. He put music on in the background, and hardly noticed the passing of time, only breaking out of his reverie when Than came to remind him to eat.
A couple days later, he was ready to leave, Cerberus waiting patiently at the door. He gave a quick goodbye to his friends and his father, the former of whom gave promises to contact and the latter of whom just hmm-ed under his breath.
After the ship had taken off, he sat on his bed for a while, taking it all in. He was going somewhere new- how exciting!- but he knew he was going to miss his friends and family.
A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts.
“Coming!” He said as he went to get the door.
On the other side of the door stood Hypnos, in full regalia. His departure had been much larger and more public, and Zag hoped that his brothers and mother had shown up. Charon he was almost certain of, and made a mental note to check his social media for pictures Hermes had most likely posted about his “almost-little-brother-in-law leaving us behind!! 😭😭.” Nyx and Than, though, were a little colder, and Than had made no move to leave when Zag had gotten on the ship.
“Hi!” Hypnos chirped, trying not to show the exhaustion he felt. It had been nothing but endless briefings for months prior to this, and the next four years were sure to be a nice, long break before doing it again for a whole year.
“Hi!” Zag replied, feeling slightly awkward in his far less formal tank top and shorts.
Cerberus came up between them and nosed at Hypnos’ cloak.
“Hi to you too!” Hypnos bent down and pet Cerberus to the best of his ability, mentally thanking the powers that be that he was a rather tall Doberman and not a small dog. 
Zag knew that Hypnos was his friend and his roommate’s brother, but he still was at a loss of how to act. Hypnos was, for all intents and purposes, his boss now, and he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d be expected to act accordingly.
Hypnos ended all pretenses of formality by stepping into Zag’s room and quickly shedding all jewelry and reminders of his station, leaving him in a long, elegant dress that crumpled beneath him when he flopped on Zag’s bed.
Hypnos yawned widely, and shifted to where he had a view of Zag still awkwardly standing in the doorway to his own room. Cerberus climbed on the bed next to him, and laid his head on Hypnos’ stomach.
It was a scene which made Zag vaguely want to join in and rest, but he was too wired to do so. Instead, he pulled the chair out from the desk facing the bed, and sat down with the back of the chair pressed to his chest.
“You excited?” Zag asked Hypnos, lightly drumming his fingers against the cool plastic.
Hypnos made a noncommittal noise and seemed to settle into the bed more. “You don’t mind if I nap here, do you?”
Zag shook his head, and Hypnos nodded slightly before falling asleep so quickly it startled Zag. He waited a few minutes before beginning to unpack, trying his hardest to remain quiet so as not to disrupt Hypnos. After dropping an exercise weight rather loudly and realizing that Hypnos hadn’t even stirred, he abandoned all attempts at noiselessness and just began placing things, noise be damned. 
He was so wrapped up in it he failed to notice when Hypnos woke up, studied him from behind for a few seconds (it was a nice view! sue him!), then rolled over and went back to sleep.
Zag was in the middle of organizing the desk when his communicator pinged, alerting him that dinner was being served in the cafeteria. 
“What time is it?” Hypnos mumbled from the bed.
Zag tilted the communicator to turn the screen on and told him.
Hypnos sighed and sat up, yawning as he stretched. He sat and blinked for a couple of seconds, then said, “We have to go to a special dinner with the other politicians and stuff. After today we’ll be able to go to the cafeteria, though.”
“When does it start?” Zag asked, trying to remember where he’d put his formal clothes.
Hypnos smiled guiltily and responded, “Five minutes ago?”
Zag’s eyes widened and he sprung into action, grabbing his clothes from the drawer and stumbling slightly as he went into the bathroom to change. Hypnos began to reluctantly put his own uniform on. By the time Zag came out, striking quite the figure in the fitted vestments, Hypnos had managed to pull everything on, and was fiddling with the clasp of the cloak.
“Here, let me get that for you.” Zag offered, and went to stand in front of Hypnos, where he reached up slightly and fastened the cloak.
The two stood in front of each other for a couple of seconds, Hypnos mentally preparing himself for human interaction and Zag trying to recall his training. Then, Hypnos sighed and moved around Zag to get to the door, and Zag fell into position beside him.
A week passed with Zag at Hypnos’ side almost constantly (even in sleep, to an extent, as their rooms were next to each other) before Hypnos once again came to his room for a nap. Then, over time, this became a regular occurrence. Hypnos would nap on Zag’s bed almost every day, and when he wasn’t napping, the two of them talked. Zag told Hypnos about growing up with a father who simultaneously ignored and expected everything from his son; his mother, who he had only met again recently, who used to worked as a diplomat but had retired to a small, idyllic, relatively unknown planet; the important people in his life, like his mentor Achilles and his friends. In return, Hypnos told Zag about growing up in a family that seemed to excel at everything; days spent sleeping because he couldn’t disappoint people in his dreams; going to school to learn how to talk to people and accidentally gaining importance. They talked about loneliness and happiness, highs and lows. 
It brought them closer together, and as weeks turned to months, Hypnos found himself looking forward to talks with Zagreus. He would wake up, giddy for their next interaction, and anticipate what he might say today. Maybe he’d make a comment about Zag’s haircut or a joke about how Cerberus like him better than Zag. Thinking about Zag made him smile involuntarily, and when the two of them talked, Hypnos sometimes felt his cheeks warm at Zag’s laugh and demeanor.
About four months into their voyage, he realized what this meant.
Oh.
Oh no.
It’s not like he hadn’t talked to Zag before- he did live with his brother- but the close quarters made everything… different. It felt like it was just the two of them, an island floating in a ship of 200 people. Maybe that was it- he just wanted to feel close to only other person on board he interacted with regularly. It couldn’t possibly be like, an actual crush, right? Yeah, no. It wasn’t.
That’s what he told himself, at least.
Zag, on the other hand, was oblivious to Hypnos’ internal struggle. He liked hanging out with Hypnos. They’d gone from acquaintances to best friends quickly, and Zag came to treasure their (many) moments together. He liked the teasing and jokes, and came to find his little yawn-stretches after a good nap rather cute. 
He had a crush on Hypnos.
He didn’t try to deny it or push it out of his mind, but he also didn’t really acknowledge it either. Hypnos was funny and adorable and really, really disliked tomatoes but always got an extra helping of pasta or whatever food with tomatoes was being served so he could give it to Zag, who he knew loved tomatoes. Zag couldn’t imagine not having a bit of a crush on Hypnos. He figured most people who met him did, because how could they not? With his unruly curls and dimples he was classic crush material.
So the first year passed. 
The second year began with a party, a celebration of “making it one year without any major incidents” (the ship captain’s words). Hypnos and Zag attended, once again in their stuffy formal wear, but ditched halfway through in favor of grabbing any food they could stuff in their pockets and talking in Zag’s room until long after the partygoers had trickled back into their rooms.
With the second year came new responsibilities. Hypnos’ monthly meetings turned into two, and he began to attend refresher courses on the language he’d be expected to use once the ship landed. Zag found himself standing outside rooms more often than not, and poor Cerberus’ walks went from three times a day to two. Their hang out time was cut in half virtually overnight.
So… why did Hypnos’ crush on Zagreus only worsen? 
They were both interacting with other people, and he had work to do. Why couldn’t he seem to pry Zag from his mind? He had to focus! But all he could focus on was Zag’s smile, playing on repeat in some sadistic part of his brain, and he wondered idly if someone had invented some sort of “cure” for a crush. Zag was his brother’s roommate! Than probably had a crush on him or something, because there’s no other way he’d let anyone live with him. He’d barely tolerated Hypnos when they’d shared a room as children!
(Than did have a small crush on Zagreus, but was finding out quickly that distance did not, in fact, make the heart fonder.)
Hypnos didn’t sleep a lot at night. Normally, sleep wasn’t a problem for him; he’d always been one to fall asleep easily and deeply. Now, though, his thoughts played on an endless loop, and he only really slept when he was in Zag’s room, surrounded by the noises of Zagreus and Cerberus.
Zag found that his crush on Hypnos was quickly blossoming into something much deeper, and didn’t really mind it. He wondered, idly, if there was a chance of Hypnos feeling the same, but didn’t want to jeopardize the mission (they still had eight more years together!) or their friendship. Besides, there was something beautiful in just the feeling of spending time with someone you l- cared for. Cared for, and he figured it was better to enjoy it.
For a short while, anyway.
It was difficult to deny the dreams he had of holding hands with Hypnos and going on dates (among other, less wholesome things), and he began to wonder more and more often if those dreams had a chance of becoming a reality.
Probably not. Hypnos was busy and important; he probably didn’t think about Zag half as much as Zag thought about him.
Three years came and went, with the budding feelings between the two only deepening. It caused some slight frustration, but neither of them was willing to talk about it, and behind their backs, the rest of the ship began to take bets on when they were going to get together. 
It didn’t happen in Year Three, when they were shoved into a closet “on accident” and spent the time talking about the things they had to finish that day.
It didn’t happen in Year Four, when Cerberus got sick and the two of them squished themselves into the same chair with Hypnos’ formal cloak draped on top of them like a blanket. It had been a cute scene, and was trending with #zagnos on social media for an hour before another diplomat had requested it get taken down. 
Finally, the day came for them to land. The whole ship was abuzz with people hurrying to and fro in anxious attempts to make sure they and their belongings were ready to depart. They’d been told to leave the bulk of their belongings on the ship, as it was the same one they’d be returning to and they would still have access to it, but this left people unsure as to whether they should over or underpack. 
Zag had decided that one backpack would probably be enough, seeing as they’d been told that decorations in the rooms they were to be provided were forbidden. He also had a tote bag with Cerberus’ things packed, and was more or less just waiting for the ship to be cleared to unload.
Hypnos, on the other hand, had three pre-packed, unopened suitcases filled with various clothes of the local fashion (enough to make sure they wouldn’t repeat; the higher-ups wanted to make an impression of their wealth); a bag of cosmetics and hair products (no longer would the unruly mess of curls reign); five briefcases with information he’d studied front to back multiple times during the trip; another duffle bag with sleep clothes; and a bag with all of his electronics. 
Zag picked up as much as he could, and the rest was carried by an envoy sent from the local government, leaving Hypnos free to smile and shake hands and generally do the job he’d been sent there to do. 
It was a stark difference from the Hypnos Zag had gotten to know, and it shocked him somewhat to see how quickly he’d changed from Hypnos, Zag’s best friend and the guy he’s in love with, to a charming diplomat with a winning smile that anyone would be hard-pressed to dislike.
Zag must’ve been hard-pressed, then, because he found himself disliking this version of Hypnos. There was something… insincere about it. It was all fake, a show put on to help Hypnos do his job better.
Well, he was only here to help Hypnos do his job, right? It wasn’t for him to like or dislike things. 
There was to be a party for those who had finally touched down on solid ground, and as Zag changed into a less formal outfit for the event, he heard a knock at the door. He opened it, then frowned, realizing that there was no one there. He turned to go back to getting ready, but not even five seconds later, the knock sounded again. Again, he opened the door, only to find no one there. He went outside and walked around a little, but didn’t see anyone. He went back to his room, where the knocking sounded again, and realized that the knocking was coming from somewhere not the front door. 
Five minutes later, he found a shallow dip in the wall, and when he touched it, a smooth voice asked, “Name?”
“Uh, Zagreus?” He answered.
A beep sounded, and the voice once again asked, “Name?”
“Zagreus… Plutonic?” He replied again, questioningly.
A ding sounded, and a portion of the wall swung outward to reveal Hypnos, still in the same outfit he’d been wearing earlier. Hypnos smiled widely at him- that same smile that he wore during their hang out sessions, not the one he wore as a diplomatic mask- but quickly flushed purple.
Zag raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“You’re uh, you-“ Hypnos stammered. “You’re not wearing a shirt, silly!”
Zag looked down and realized Hypnos was right. He smiled as he teased, “And? Do you like what you see?”
Hypnos just giggled, a high-pitched, somewhat frantic noise. 
Zagreus put on a shirt as Hypnos moved into the room, sitting daintily on the edge of the bed because his ornate clothing stopped him from doing anything else. Cerberus came up to him and wagged his tail expectantly, and Hypnos reached out and pet his head, making sure to scratch the area behind his ears that he knew he liked.
Zag watched them fondly. He’d always taken it as a good sign that Hypnos and Cerberus got along so well, and had told his mom such. She’d agreed with him, with that bright look in her eyes that hinted she knew more than she let on. 
When Zag was ready, the two of them left together, Cerberus asleep on the bed. 
At the party itself, the two of them basically stuck to the edges, chatting with other people occasionally. Eventually, an alcoholic drink was thrust into their hands. Zag looked questioningly at Hypnos, who nodded slightly as he put his own drink down. Zag grinned and drank it all down in one gulp, to the cheers of the other partygoers. He began to mingle with the crowd, leaving Hypnos standing awkwardly in the corner. Some other diplomats joined him, and they spent time murmuring about upcoming responsibilities and travel memories.
About an hour later, Hypnos felt a tug on his arm, and looked up to see Zagreus, cheeks flushed, smiling widely as he pulled him to the dancefloor. Hypnos made half-hearted excuses to the other diplomats before turning and anxiously following Zag to the dancefloor, leaving several knowing faces in his wake.
The two of them danced for a while, laughing wildly and holding each other’s hands in turn, high on the music and each other’s company. Eventually, the two of them ended up in a different corner than they’d started off in, smiling widely, faces flushed with exertion. 
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Hypnos was smiling widely and giggling breathlessly, staring down at Zag. Zag was looking up at him brightly, fondness crinkling the corners of his eyes. Zag pushed up, slightly, onto the tips of his toes. Hypnos leaned down, unconsciously. 
Their lips met.
After a second, Hypnos jerked back. Zag was drunk, and Hypnos felt like he was taking advantage of the situation. 
He cleared his throat and turned around, mood suddenly soured. “Let’s go back to the rooms, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
Zag wrinkled his nose and slurred, “Nuh I haven’t.”
Hypnos grabbed his arm and led him out anyway, exchanging goodbyes with those who came to talk to them. When they got to Zag’s room, he watched him go inside, then went to his own room.
He slept, exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally.
When he woke up, he was still tired, but he got out of bed and forced himself to get ready for the day, even though he felt like sleeping for the next decade at least. 
Zag woke up with a slight headache and a feeling of embarrassment. He really just… HAD to go and kiss Hypnos, huh? And Hypnos had clearly not felt the same and what HAPPENED to “I technically work for him so this is a bad idea”?
He really should’ve just… stayed sober.
“I fucked up, Cerberus.” He told his dog morosely, who just stared back at him.
He sighed, took some medicine, fed his dog, and put on his uniform, feeling slight dread as he exited his room. Hypnos was standing outside, and didn’t look at him as he began to walk to his first appointment of the day. 
It was hard for Hypnos to muster up his usual charm, but nothing went sideways, so he took that as a win. Meals were awkward, what with Zagreus sitting in front of him but neither of them talking. 
It continued like this for a week before one of them decided to break the silence.
Zag knocked on the door separating their rooms late one night, and opened it after hearing a returning knock. He walked into Hypnos’ room, noting the fact that it was messier than he’d ever seen it.
“I,” He began, then paused slightly. “I just wanted to apologize. It was wrong of me, and I can only-”
“Apologize for what?” Hypnos butted in, confused.
“Well… the kiss?” Zagreus responded, just as confused.
“Wait.” Hypnos said, eyes narrowing slightly as he continued, “I’m the one who should apologize to you, I took advantage of the fact tha-”
“Why are you apologizing to me? I’m the one with the-” Zag made a vague hand motion, “feelings.”
Hypnos stared at him. “I thought… I was the one with feelings?”
The two of them stared at each other for a while before breaking into laughter.
“We’re so stupid!” Hypnos exclaimed between fits of laughter, and Zag just laughed as he sat on the bed so as to not fall down. 
After a while, their laughter ceased. 
Hypnos leaned into Zag’s shoulder, and Zag put an arm loosely around Hypnos waist. Then he pulled away slightly, and asked, “Should we try this again?”
Hypnos nodded, purple flush rising in his cheeks, and the two of them kissed.
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aiden21 · 3 years
Text
A Universe of Coincidences Present Mic x gn!Reader
Word count: 4k+
You’d moved into this new apartment expecting nothing other than a change in scenery. You’d initially fallen in love with the view that your balcony provided. You were on a high enough floor that no other building nearby really got in the way, and if you closed one eye and stretched out one hand, it kinda looked like you were holding some of the city in the palm of your hand. You didn’t even care about the fact that the apartment itself was a little small, and you spent most of your free time out on the balcony in a small garden chair, just gazing out at the world happily.
You only went out a few times a week for anything that wasn’t work, this afternoon being one such case, for groceries or other necessities. You had a small list in your hand, not trusting your memory, and got in the elevator. The doors were about to close when you heard someone running and you instinctively pressed the button to keep the doors open. A man trotted inside the elevator, a charming smile on his face.
“Thank you~” He told you, in clear English, and you smiled shyly back at him.
You shook your wrist out of pure instinct, the charms on your bracelet clinging together. It was a black bracelet with red roses and you realized the man was staring at it with cheerful eyes.
“Did you just move in? I don’t think I’ve seen you around this venue before.” He asked, green eyes sparkling behind a modest pair of glasses. He was cute, you told yourself, with his long blonde hair and little mustache.
“I’ve been in 1407 for a few days.” You said, offering your last name and a polite smile. He hummed, nodded, and then when the elevator reached the ground floor all too quickly, he pointed at you with a finger gun.
“Welcome to the building! Enjoy the show!” He said before walking out while whistling happily, his strides much longer than yours. You waved at his back dumbly, already getting the feeling that you knew him from somewhere. You pondered upon that as you walked to the store, feeling like you had the answer on the tip of your tongue. But, alas, you didn’t think you’d ever seen that man face to face before and so you pushed the thought out of your mind for a while.
The following morning found you in comfy clothes, the sliding door to the balcony wide open to let the breeze in. You were unpacking a few things, hanging some decorations, while your favorite album played in the background. You had one of those modern vinyl players along with five of your favorite records, all a gift from your family last Christmas, and you liked to listen to them like that, even though you had the songs on your phone. It’d be a shame to just let the vinyls gather dust, after all. You sang along, placing things on shelves and stacking empty boxes on top of one another. You were far from being a good singer, but being home alone gave you the confidence to try and hold longer harmonies or reach higher notes, all things you wouldn’t be caught doing out in public.
You half danced your way around your living room, putting things in their new places. You stepped out into your balcony, still singing happily. You looked at your plants, reminding yourself that you had to water them once the sun went down.
You stretched, butchering the high note on the song but belting it out regardless, and then you stopped dead when another, much more harmonious voice joined you. Apartments on the same floors technically all shared one long balcony, but it’d been divided by walls on either side so everyone could have their privacy. Thus, you couldn’t actually see who was out on their balcony. But the voice—male, for what you could tell—sounded impossibly close. They kept on singing along to your music, clearly not caring about being heard, and you ran back inside with a hand over your mouth, blushing like crazy.
You tripped on the rug and cursed out loud, knocking over a stack of books. Outside the voice laughed cheerfully and you wanted to bury yourself alive out in the garden. Thankfully, they said nothing after that and, not having seen their face, you managed to swallow down your embarrassment. You pushed back the feeling that you knew that voice, not wanting to even think about what neighbor had caught you singing like a teenager.
You came back from work one day feeling exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to climb into bed, listen to some music, and go to sleep. You stepped inside the building and immediately the guard stopped you in the lobby. He pointed you towards some boxes—at least ten boxes big enough to fit a medium-sized dog inside—and told you that they were yours. Of course they were. During your move a few of your things had gotten lost, you having moved from one end of Japan onto the other, and the moving company had promised you that the boxes had simply gotten mixed up in someone else’s move. You half believed that you’d never see those things again, but lo and behold, you got your things back. Now to get them up to your apartment all by yourself, since the guard couldn’t leave his post at the gate. Wonderful.
The first box was easy.
The third one felt a little heavier.
The seventh one had you gasping and you were honestly considering just leaving the rest of your stuff in the lobby until the end of times. You were tired and annoyed and hungry and still in your work clothes.
The elevator opened with a cheerful ding and you sighed, dragging your feet and taking another box with the word ‘books’ written on top. You attempted to lift it, the air leaving your lungs on that first attempt before you got a better hold of the box. Your back was killing you and your arms hurt, but you carried on towards the elevator. Unable to use your hands, you attempted to balance on one leg so you could free one hand just long enough to call the elevator, but no such luck. You lost your balance and, while you caught yourself in time, the box was heading straight for the floor. But then, fast as lightning, a hand reached out and caught the side you’d lost your grip upon.
“That was close! Almost missed a beat!” He said and you immediately smiled in relief.
“Thank you,” You said, a nervous laugh escaping you. You tried to take the box back, but the blonde man easily took it from you with a friendly smile. He was wearing a flattering red jacket and stylish black pants, his hair pulled back into a messy bun.
“I got it.”
You felt a little awkward, a little dumb, a thousand things, “I don’t wanna bother you.”
“No problemo. Happy to help!” He responded cheerfully, anchoring the box with his hip, and easily calling for the elevator himself. You felt hot under your shirt and you weren’t sure if it was because of the effort of the past boxes or what.
No, fuck it, you knew what it was.
“Hold on, let me get another one before the elevator gets here,” You said, practically running away. There were three boxes left, and you read over the words written on them to try and decide which one would be the easiest one to carry. Or should you take a heavier one? Which would be less embarrassing? You finally picked one that said ‘pictures’ and made your way back, getting inside the already open elevator. He looked over your head, chuckling at the sight of boxes still left behind. He put his box down and told you to wait and you watched in absolute dismay as he stacked the two remaining boxes one on top of the other, easily—easily, the smooth bastard— carrying them over.
You were beet red when he got in the elevator with you, his happy-go-lucky smile threatening to burn you.
“Not to pry, but what’s all this?” He said, almost teasingly, and you had to look away.
“Some boxes went missing during my move. I already got everything else in my apartment.” You said shyly. He hummed, nodding. When you got to the 14th floor, he got off the elevator with two boxes while you carried the other two, thankful that he’d allowed you to help him. He was the one helping you, you knew that, but you still felt embarrassed at the fact.
He’s just a normal neighbor, he’s being friendly.
You got to your door and you pushed it open with your hip, wincing internally at how plain and messy your place was. You lived alone and many of your things had been missing, so you hadn’t bothered with some of your things. Your favorite record was on the counter, right where he placed the boxes he’d helped carry. You turned to steal a glance at his face and you saw him pursing his lips together, trying almost in vain to bite a smile back and you wanted to jump out the window. Still, you inhaled slowly and pushed your embarrassment back, offering him a smile.
“Thanks for the help, really.”
“My pleasure. I’m here all week.” He shot at you with finger guns, almost posing as he did so, and you giggled. He was a little goofy, but you liked that.
“Do you want some help with unpacking?” He asked but you shook your head immediately. “N-no, I’m okay. Thank you, though, I really owe you one!” You gave him a wide, bright smile, and he stared at you for a second. His brows raised a little beneath his glasses and you looked down on instinct, thinking you’d made a weird face. Then you perked up, turning towards your kitchen.
“Oh! Would you like some water? I can also make some tea or coffee if you’d like!” You sounded nervous, you couldn’t help it, but you knew it was the polite thing to do now that he was inside your house.
“I’d love to, but I gotta bounce.” He said, smiling apologetically. You stopped to look at him and then, almost embarrassed, you walked towards the door by his side. “Duty calls, the crowd is cheering, you know how it is.”
You nodded, not really understanding what he meant but smiling regardless. He gave you a small salute and started walking away, you already closing your door behind him. Then, right before it locked,
“It’s Yamada, by the way.”
“Huh?” You asked, reopening the door and peeking your head out. He had another easy-going smile on his lips.
“My name. You told me yours but I haven’t told you mine. I’m Yamada.” With that, he left.
You closed your door with a dumb smile, pinching your cheeks to try and stop yourself from blushing like a teen. You were a grown adult for crying out loud, your cute neighbor helping you out shouldn’t be something to fluster over. Still, you smiled.
You sat right in the division between your balcony and your living room, wanting to feel the night breeze but also wanting to listen to your radio. The device was inside and the volume was low out of respect for your neighbors, and you sighed contentedly as one song ended and another began. Your breath blew away the steam coming out of your mug and you smiled, taking a small sip of your drink. It was a beautiful night, the view of the city looking as if stars had landed on the ground, lights twinkling everywhere.
You always had trouble falling asleep, no matter what you tried. Tea and music helped a little, but at your core, you were a night owl. Most days were the same, you working into the early morning just to make the most out of your nights, but Friday was different. Because on Fridays Present Mic did his radio show and you absolutely loved it. Three hours of music, both foreign and local, only interrupted by one of the most charismatic, funniest heroes out there. What wasn’t there to love?
And now that you had your new place, with that gorgeous view, well, you could’ve stayed out there forever.
“And we’re back! How did you like the new song, listeners?” A familiar, animated voice flowed out of your speakers.
“Tonight, my lovely listeners, I’d like to pose you all with a little situation.” He said, something he did every week without fault. He would ask something to the audience and then, after a few more songs, he’d read a few of the responses he got online. It was sweet and fun and a nice way to interact with his audience, not to mention the only way you had to even speak a word to the guy. For as long as you’d watched the show, your responses had only been read twice thus far and, while frustrated to not get your favorite hero’s attention more often, you were still happy with those two little shoutouts.
“Pardon if I get a little cheesy, but sometimes the melodies of the soul grow tender and you can’t help but wonder a few things.”
You took another sip of your tea, Twitter open in your phone just so you could answer as fast as possible.
“Do you think sometimes life works in our favor?” He paused, chuckled, and then cleared his throat. “See, I think we attract things our way. We write our own songs, if you will. But sometimes I’ll have these moments, where the universe really seems to be trying to get my attention and I won’t be able to tell if it’s really a sign as much as it is a coincidence, you feel me?”
You listened to him intently, your phone forgotten by your side. It was… odd. Really odd. You’d heard this man’s voice over the radio for years but something felt different at that moment. Maybe it was the tone of voice, or the subject being discussed, or who knows what, but you got a different feeling this time. But what was it?
“See, I’ve gotten a few this last week. And I’m sure you all get them all the time. And now I’m thinking that, maybe, if the universe sings to you, it’s only polite to join in, harmonize.”
Something crossed your mind, a quick flash, but you shook your head out of pure instinct. No. There was no way.
“My question, or challenge more like it, to you this week is this: if you think you’ve heard the call recently, answer it. Cause you never know who might be listening to you.”
You saw a flash of green eyes, you remembered two elevator rides, but you kept shaking your head. You even laughed, thinking yourself a total idiot. It was impossible, right? I mean sure the voice was eerily familiar, but that was just a coincidence...
Right?
“Of course, as the dutiful host that I am, I can’t ask you to jam out without a proper beat, so I’ll start. Here’s my attempt at seeing if this week has been anything other than coincidences.”
He went silent and you held your breath for a moment, your expression stuck somewhere between mocking and panicked. Then the next song started playing and it took you about two seconds to recognize it. Was the record sleeve still on the counter? Was the vinyl still beneath the needle, waiting to resume that same, exact song?
A few things crossed your mind at that moment. The superficial, more impulsive side of you kinda wanted to toss the radio out the window. The more intense side of you wanted to scream, because Goddammit, HOW HAD YOU NOT RECOGNIZED HIM AT ANY POINT!? Sure, the few times you two had crossed paths he’d been dressed in civilian clothes, he’d been wearing seeing glasses, and his hair had been held together by a simple bun, rather than the crazy updo that he usually wore. But still, you chided yourself, you’d shared an elevator with him twice already. You’d talked to him, face to face. He’d been inside your home, for crying out loud!
How? Hoooooow?
You groaned, letting your back hit the ground while you covered your face in absolute shame. You stayed down until the song was over and, as other songs played, you started going through every stage of grief, in order.
There was no way, absolutely no way. It was just a coincidence, that was all. Your neighbor just happened to be blonde and handsome and also happened to make a few musical references as he spoke, but that was normal. Anyone could do that. Besides, you’d never seen him in costume; there’s no way a respectable hero would go out wearing casual clothes. What if they ran into danger?
How had you not put the pieces together earlier? You were such an idiot, just talking to him as if he was a normal, cute guy. How had you let him carry your boxes for you!? He probably thought you were so dumb by now. How could you be so blind, so DEAF!? HE’D EVEN TOLD YOU HIS LAST NAME! Why had God cursed you with such stupidity?
At this point he started talking again, reading out some of the responses he’d gotten and encouraging people to ‘go for it!’
Oh God, there was no way you’d ever be able to look him in the eye again. You’d never be able to listen to that song again without thinking of how badly you’d messed up, how badly you’d probably offended him by not recognizing him. You’d just moved in, too, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to step foot outside again. Why had he even played that song? Had he been the one to sing with you and then laugh at you? Oh great. He knew you were an idiot. Wonderful. It was over. Your life was over.
No, wait, maybe there was some way to fix this. Maybe he hadn’t been the one to sing and laugh, maybe he’d just listened to that from his own balcony and found it funny. Maybe this ‘sign’ was meant for the other person, the one that sang so much better than you. Maybe you were making all of it up in your head, a stupid fan moment where you really wanted him to know you, really wanted to be that close to him without even knowing. Besides, you could still sell the apartment and move somewhere far away.
You groaned again, pulling at your hair. You stared at the ceiling as the music stopped, as he gave his audience his usual, animated goodnight, even as the night air grew colder. It must have been sometime past midnight when you finally decided to act like a normal adult once more. You got up, switched the radio off, and closed your balcony door. You heaved a sigh, suddenly craving another cup of tea and a nice, long bath.
You shoved a mug full of water inside the microwave, not in the mood to boil the water properly. You watched the cup go round and round, the loud humming of the appliance giving you a crumb of comfort. You had to relax, you told yourself. Everything would be fine.
The sound of the power outage mimicked a sad sigh, the absolute silence of your apartment slapping you in the face. You sighed, resting your forehead against the counter. If the universe really did send out signs, then you wanted to slap the universe smack dab across the face. You glanced outside and, sure enough, all of the buildings and houses in your area had been plunged into absolute darkness.
“Anything else?” You asked to the heavens, slightly annoyed.
From the hallway, you heard a loud crash and a high-pitched yelp, and you sighed as dramatically as you could. You grabbed your phone, turned on the flashlight, and ventured out.
It was kinda creepy, you weren’t gonna lie. You hadn’t lived in there for long enough to grow familiar with anything, so the pitch-black hallway made you shiver. It was like a horror movie set up, you thought as you turned. You’d look down the other end of the hall and a monster would be waiting for you, ready to strike you down.
Except, it wasn’t a ghost or a ghoul. It was Yamada—should you call him Present Mic? Which would be less awkward to you?— with his green eyes wide and his hands outstretched. He’d knocked over one of those silver cylinders where buildings hide their fire extinguishers and you blinked a little at the sight. Why did he look so guilty?
“You okay?” You asked, stepping out of your apartment. You were glad that the light was aimed away from you, cause you knew you looked flustered and dumb.
“My phone died.” He offered as an explanation and you nodded as he placed the metallic container back in place. You shined your light down the hall, landing on the elevator and shivering.
“Thank God you didn’t get trapped in there.” You murmured. He looked up at you, then at the elevator and you saw him shivering. When he turned to face you, he looked sheepish.
“That would have been quite the show ender, huh?” He chuckled and you kinda smiled at him in the dark. This wasn’t awkward, why were you making it awkward on yourself?
You shone your light on the ground so he could make it over to you without tripping again, not that there were any other obstacles in the way. He gave you a disarming smile and suddenly you wanted to run back into your apartment and never come out again. Still, with the power out, your nice side won the battle raging in your chest.
“Which one’s your apartment?” You asked, almost a mumble. Yamada looked at you, blinking a few times, and you waved the light around a little. “I’ll walk you over. Wouldn’t wanna leave you in the dark.”
“Thanks!” He said, in English, and you nodded. He guided you down the hall into apartment 1403, which was on the same side of the hall as your own. Remembering your improvised little concert from a few days ago, you blushed madly. Of course you shared balconies, why wouldn’t you.
“Home sweet home,” He said, looking for his keys amongst an endless amount of pockets. He finally found them and you couldn’t help but smile at the keychains dangling from his set of keys. He had a little black cat, a rose, a little cloud, and a rubber duck, the last one making you giggle quietly. He looked at you in the dark for a moment, not even trying to find the right key. After a few seconds he snapped out of it and he unlocked his door in a flash. He pushed it open a little and neither of you moved.
“Aren’t I lucky you of all people were awake to shine my path,” He joked, sounding more nervous than you’d ever heard him, even from his radio show.
“It’s okay,” You smiled kindly, fighting back your emotions. “I did own you one, after all.”
He chuckled, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck. There was a moment of silence, both of you trying to figure out just what you should do next. You moved your phone, the light illuminating the wall.
“Why are you up so late, anyway?” He asked you. You had to bite back a panicked laugh, the events of the night replaying in your head. Not too late to sell the apartment, you told yourself.
“I was making some tea,” You said lamely, hands fidgeting. It was such a dumb thing to say since it didn’t actually answer his question, but it was all you had. “But then the power went out and, I mean, my stove’s electric anyway. I guess I’ll have to wait till tomorrow.”
You added that last part as a segway, a crutch of sorts that would allow you to excuse yourself before you could say anything else that might make you look like more of a fool. It was a shame, really. If you weren’t so embarrassed right now then you might try to keep the conversation going. He was handsome and polite, after all. But no, you had too much in your head, songs and signs and vibrant green eyes and you should probably go now, you told yourself. You mumbled a polite ‘goodnight’ before turning on your heels, already set on going home. Behind you, Yamada hesitated. He swallowed thickly, cursed his dumb brain, and then,
“My stove’s not electric.”
You stopped, frowning.
“Huh?” You turned back, raising the light a little just so you could look at him without outright blinding him. He was playing with his keys, his eyes on the ground. Was that… a blush on his face?
“My stove works even without power,” He explained dumbly, eyes only focusing on you for one second at a time as he spoke. “And I have tea. I mean, I’m not… Do you wanna come inside?” He held out his hands, a quiet and shy offer now between you. It was an invitation, a question and a hopeful wish all in one and his face reflected that perfectly.
You blinked, feeling numb for a second before a warm, tingly feeling crawled up your arms. You wanted to bite back your smile, wanted to convince yourself that he was just being kind, but there were too many coincidences by now.
If the universe is calling, then it’s only polite to respond, right?
“I’d like that. A lot.” You said. His eyes opened wide, forest tones enclosed by a ring of lovely, pastel green, and you smiled. He grinned from ear to ear, finally opening his door fully and stepping aside to let you in.
You hummed for a second, feeling a lot braver than you had in a long while.
“By the way,” You said teasingly, “That’s not my favorite song in the album.”
He blinked, watching you walk into his home with an almost shocked expression. He finally laughed, closing the door behind you both.
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Check Ignition: Part IV
A Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst
Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV
Requests are open if you have any oneshot ideas or opinions on how this should continue!
In their bedroom that night, Jens had a whole roll of parchment full of ideas. Robbe fell asleep first on the common room couch after Hufflepuff’s party, and meandered to his room at three AM to find Jens awaiting him on the windowsill. Aaron, conked out, had pulled the curtains of his four-poster shut and cast a few silencing charms for privacy.
“Muffliato,” Robbe cast under his breath, just in case. Aaron wasn’t the greatest at Charms.
“I was supposed to patrol tonight,” Robbe told Jens. “Did Jana go alone?”
Jens nodded. “She said you would’ve lost her anyway, whatever that means.”
“You’re talking again?”
“Uh, yeah, of course. Okay, here, look at this…” Jens smacked down his parchment on the little floor space they had in their bedroom. Each little segment of dormitory housed four boys with their beds in a circle around the heater in the middle. While Jens, Robbe, and Aaron didn’t have a fourth shoved in with them, the fourth bed’s curtains were also closed. Robbe assumed it was Moyo staying over after the party. Their copious belongings covered most available surfaces: books piled up next to bedspreads, clothing strewn over trunks, candy wrappers overflowing from trash bins.
“I think you have to dial it up,” Jens explained. He flattened the parchment until Robbe could kind of read his sloping cursive. The title at the top of the page was scribbled out, replaced with the words Operation Ditch-Noor. “Noor seems more persistent.”
Robbe thought back on their conversation. It made his head hurt to think. “She’s done.”
“Didn’t seem it today. How much did you drink?”
“I can read it,” said Robbe. He, in fact, could not read it. Why did Jens have to write everything in cursive?
The party itself had gone by pretty smoothly, from what he could piece together at the moment. Sander turned on music from his player, an upbeat song called Rebel Rebel, and had everyone spinning in circles on the common room carpet. Robbe didn’t remember kissing Sander at all. He remembered taking a cupful of punch from Aaron and not asking about its alcohol content. The girls left early to go console Zoë on the loss, and he’d woken up with a blanket that he didn’t have when he fell asleep.
Actually, that was a pretty solid outline considering the circumstances. Good on Robbe.
Jens gave Robbe a minute to puzzle through the spirals on the parchment. If he looked at it sideways, it might be a picture of a big black dog.
“Thoughts?” said Jens. He bumped Robbe’s shoulder with his own. Robbe looked around. When did they sit on the floor?
“Good,” he said.
“Good. It was a major oversight on your part, not having a public date in the first week. You’re going to have to compensate now.”
“What?”
Jens sighed. “Like, you have to be twice as convincing. Why am I even friends with you?”
“You’re so smart,” Robbe agreed.
“Is that Robbe?” said the fourth bed. It didn’t sound like Moyo. Moyo’s drunk voice was always deeper than his normal one, full of false bravado, while this one was much lighter. Sure enough, Sander peeked his head out from the curtains. His hair stuck up in all different directions.
Jens got up from the ground and smacked Sander’s arm as Sander tried to reach for Robbe. “You don’t have to trick us. Jeez.” He addressed Robbe again. “He’s been like this all night.”
Sander ignored him. “Come over here,” he said to Robbe. “I haven’t seen you.”
“You saw me,” Robbe said.
“Not a lot.”
“Yeah, so this is the kind of material we need.” Jens pointed at the parchment roll. “Noor’s going to leave you alone.”
“Come here, Robbe.”
Robbe sobered—while Sander didn’t exactly sound serious, there was something more in the way he said those words. What, Robbe couldn’t be sure. He was probably projecting, making the whole thing up.
Sander’s clothing was rumpled, a stain on the collar of his shirt. There were circles around his eyes as if he’d been rubbing them. His perfect hand was just begging to be held—the vision began to blur a little bit on the edges, and Robbe had to blink a few times to make the picture clear again.
This wasn’t real. He was drunk and it wasn’t real. Robbe was hallucinating or something, that’s what it was.
And he didn’t want to sleep with Sander, at least, not yet.
“I am going to be physically ill,” said Jens. “Save this.”
They left the parchment on the floor. Jens climbed into his bed, Robbe into his. Sander left the curtains open on bed four, staring over at where Robbe lay, so Robbe left his own curtains open. Gotta have that line of sight. He knew Sander was drunk as a skunk, but goodness, it felt wonderful to have his attention.
“Goodnight, love,” he called over.
Jens covered his head with a his pillow. "Kill me."
***
Sander was gone when Robbe got up the next day, and just as well, because it was one PM. Robbe’s head hurt like a motherfucker. Good news, though: he could now read the parchment Jens had tacked to the door of their dormitory. Not without pain, but without much struggle. In the bottom left-hand corner, an artsy signature marked that Sander understood the objectives. Sander Driesen. He dotted the i in his last name with a little circle instead of a plain dot.
Robbe speed-read the document to the best of his ability. And panicked. If Sander was following this, they had plans at five today.
He gathered his things and dashed to the shower, careful not to wake up anyone else who might still be sleeping. Aaron seemed to have gone out; his bed was empty. Jens wasn’t visible, and Robbe didn’t think it right to open the bedcurtains to see if he was there. The shower water was freezing cold. Robbe did a little warming spell he thought he remembered and ended up evaporating it all.
He took a very cold shower.
When that was done, he changed into a collared shirt with a sweater overtop and a pair of khaki pants. Casual date outfit, check. Fake date. Couldn’t forget that. He appraised his reflection in the mirror for too long to be considered normal.
There was plenty to do in the span between now and five o’clock—exams were three weeks away and Robbe didn’t know the main ingredients of Amortentia. But he couldn’t bring himself to open the books. It made much more sense to pace around the room.
Of course they’d go on a date. Real relationships would have dates.
And Sander—last night—it was nothing.
Robbe spent a lot of his mental energy convincing himself that things didn’t matter. He spent a little more trying to forget this revelation.
Four forty-five arrived before he could list out all the possible ways a date could go wrong.
The castle was always louder on Saturday afternoons and evenings. With the morning’s hangover remedied, students were free to gossip as they pleased. As Robbe headed down the stairs to the dungeons, where Jens’ note detailed he would meet Sander, he heard no less than four separate conversations that should have been private. Two Gryffindors were having a Wrackspurt problem in their dormitory. Several Slytherins discussed a magical cure for gonorrhea that would not alert Madame Pomfrey to their situation. Yasmina and Zoë attended extra Potions sessions together, and Robbe heard them debating the proper way to skin a human arm for use. Most of interest: Britt and another girl in the final hallway.
“Sander doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Britt lamented. “I don’t think he’s been going to the hospital wing.”
“You don’t know that,” the girl replied, resting a comforting hand on Britt’s back.
Robbe tried to shrink back on himself as he walked by.
Britt wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “And I’m the one that’s gonna be there when it goes to shit.”
Give it up, thought Robbe. He booked it the rest of the way to the Slytherin common room’s entrance.
Sander was waiting beside the door, his back against the stonework. His look today was different than Robbe had ever seen it, a leather jacket and a t-shirt paired with tight black jeans. When he raised a hand to wave at Robbe, the shirt rode up enough to expose a line of pale skin. Robbe felt overdressed in his sweater. Sander shouldn’t think he was taking this too seriously.
“Where are we headed?” Sander asked, as soon as Robbe was within asking range.
Robbe’s eyes went wide. “I thought you were planning it.”
“I've been hungover.” Sander pushed away from the wall. He slipped his hand into Robbe’s, and they headed for the staircase that led out of the dungeons. Usually, only Slytherins used it. “I'm good with whatever. For Britt, obviously. Somewhere she'll see."
The staircase spit them out into the upstairs hallway. Sander brought them outside through the front doors and down into the sprawling lawn. He stopped once his feet hit the grass, and turned to Robbe. “Dealer’s choice.”
“Did Jens give instructions?”
“Jens doesn’t dictate your dating life.”
Robbe frowned. “My fake dating life.”
He hated Sander’s pained expression. “Yeah, exactly.”
Only one way to make Sander smile again, and that was to go somewhere nice. Robbe surveyed the campus. They couldn’t go to Hogsmede today unless they snuck there, and Sander wasn’t in subtle attire. There was the forest, all of those beautiful, towering trees, but there was a fifty percent chance of death if they got too close. The Whomping Willow ruled out a good chunk of grassy lawn. He knew their only option would be to sit by the lake.
Lots of couples sat by the lake. Any fake relationship should feature a date there. It got foot traffic, it was public, it screamed to the world hey, we’re together.
Robbe didn’t bring a blanket. What if he got cold?
What if Sander got cold?
The thought alone of Sander cuddled into his side was enough to drive Robbe to action. He wondered what that said about him as a person.
“The lake,” said Robbe. “We can—um—we can be there.”
“You have something to sit on?”
“Uh…”
“Yeah, I counted on it.” Sander reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny square of fabric. With a wave of his wand, it grew into a full-sized picnic blanket in his arms. “Show me where you want to be.”
***
The early evening air, combined with the chill off the lake, had Robbe shivering in no time. He should have brought his coat out with him, but it wasn’t in the best shape, and he worried that mending spells could only keep it alive for so much longer. Best to save it for winter, when things got bad. Sander, on the other hand, had no problem removing his own jacket and sliding it around Robbe’s shoulders. He wrapped one bare arm around Robbe, sliding his hand into Robbe’s back pocket.
“This is nice,” he said.
“Cold,” said Robbe.
“I’ll tell Jens to plan the next one. He seems to like us as a couple.”
Something in Robbe’s stomach fluttered. The possibility of more intoxicated him. He caught himself before the desire became too strong; there had to be more. No convincing fake relationship was just one date.
Dusk crept in along the sky. Many of the other couples gathered their things to attend a Great Hall dinner, the likes of which Robbe had not consumed all week. He willed his stomach not to growl. Their blanket was close enough to the lake that casual waves poked at its edges.
“That’s your friend, isn’t it?” said Sander, pointing toward the castle’s open doors.
Robbe looked over. Zoë and Senne made their way across the lawn with their own picnic blanket and a lumpy knapsack. Behind them was Milan, Zoë’s best friend and Senne’s suitemate. Zoë smiled when she saw Robbe and jogged the remainder of the distance between them, dropping to the grass an inch away from Sander’s blanket.
“Look at you!” She pinched Robbe’s cheek. “Date night, I take it?”
Robbe tried not to look sheepish. “Jens said we should.”
“Mmhm,” said Zoë. She turned her attention to Sander. “Tell me the love story. I need to know.”
“Oh, it’s a great story. Settle in.” Sander adjusted his position. He scooted away from Robbe, then gently tipped backward until his head rested on Robbe’s lap. “Picture this. My ex brought her best friend on one of our dates because she was mad at me. We went to the Three Broomsticks.”
Robbe remembered the Three Broomsticks. Obviously. His cheeks heated. He began twisting sections of Sander’s hair around his fingers, if only to do something with his hands. He knew Zoë just wanted to hear what Sander could think up on the fly.
“Her best friend had a date, too. No problem. I was going to spend the time staring at the wall so I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Except, the date walked in, and it was Robbe here, and I just lost it. I saw him sitting there and I thought, Sander, he is the one.”
Now Robbe was really blushing. He wanted to go vaporous and phase through the ground, if he could just remember the spell…
“I thought I was being dramatic, that I needed to give it some time. But I couldn’t get him off my mind. So I broke up with Britt. She used to complain that he spent all his time up in the astronomy tower instead of patrolling. You bet your ass I went there one night to see if he’d come up. And he did.” Sander shrugged. “The rest is history.” He propped himself up and caught Robbe in a chaste kiss.
“Yeah, you can cut the bullshit.” Zoë turned to check Senne’s progress toward them. He was still a decent distance away. “Robbe told me about this.”
Sander huffed. “I said nothing that wasn’t true.” He kissed Robbe again.
“Yeah, pretty sure none of that was true. But I like the backstory. It’s really good.”
“I think I could make it as a writer,” said Sander.
Robbe assumed the conversation would end there. Zoë and Sander did not seem like the types of people who would have much to say to one another. Unfortunately, Zoë’s prying conversation gave Milan time to catch up.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, upon seeing Sander and Robbe together. He got in close to Zoë for a stage whisper. “So this is Robbe's straight guy!” Zoë shot him a look. “What? is he not straight?”
Sander did not miss a beat, even though a statement like that implied Milan knew the truth of the arrangement. “Bisexual, actually. Or pansexual—I’m still trying to figure that part out.”
“Aren’t we all,” said Milan knowingly. “Don’t fall for Robbe, then.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sander laughed. It sounded more resigned than joking. Something inside of Robbe combusted.
Milan and Senne went off and picked a spot a respectable distance away to study for their exams. Robbe noted in passing that Milan was reading pages much deeper in the Potions textbook than he had learned. He hadn’t been to a class since he started fake-dating Sander.
Zoë flashed an apologetic smile. “I didn’t tell him you were straight. Don’t know where he got that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Sander.
“And I didn’t mean to tell him the relationship was fake either, he was just so excited—”
“As long as it doesn’t get to Britt or Noor, we’re fine.”
“Robbe, are you okay?”
“Yes,” Robbe lied.
There were pleasantries afterward, although Robbe didn’t catch the specifics. He had other things to process. Sander talking about how they met—it all felt so real. Robbe found himself in a booth at the Three Broomsticks again, watching Sander take slow sips from his drink. He was in his four-poster bed while Sander slept, the curtains open so they could see each other in the dark.
He stepped on the emotion. Sander said he wouldn’t dream of falling in love with him.
Zoë went off to sit with her best friend and boyfriend, leaving space for Robbe and Sander’s date to begin. Where to begin? Number one: Sander would never fall in love with him because this was all fake. In tandem with Noor’s premonition last night, Robbe suddenly felt like he’d much rather be back inside the castle. In his bed. With the curtains pulled this time.
A headache could get him out of here. An urgent need to throw up? Maybe a mysterious summons from Jens. He needed to remember the charm that let him disappear.
Number two, back to Sander. He had wrapped his arms around his head, exposing that same patch of stomach. A line of black ink that might be a word traced the line of his hipbone down.
“Robbe?” Sander waved a hand in front of Robbe’s face.
Robbe blinked. “Huh?”
“Have you been hearing me?”
“Um,” said Robbe.
“You’re pulling my hair.”
Robbe moved his hands away. His mind was a mess of different thoughts—what would he tell the boys about this? It wasn’t fucking real. And Sander’s head was in his lap right now. He should have seen this coming before… no, he had seen this coming.
“Don’t stop,” said Sander softly. “Just… lighter.”
Robbe ran his hand through Sander’s hair. Lighter. A confession dangled on the tip of his tongue and he needed to push it back down.
“Some of what you said was true,” he said. He hoped Sander could draw the connection across conversations and realize he meant what Sander had said to Zoë, not Milan.
Sander understood. “Most of it was true.”
They waited a moment, listening to the soft waves on the lake and the bustle of other couples nearby.
“Right,” said Sander. “You’ve taken me on a date. The least you can do is tell me something nice.”
“What kind of thing?”
“Do you need Jens to write your speeches too?”
Robbe shied away from the vulnerability angle this time. Sander wouldn’t have any use for the information four weeks from now when exams were over. He marveled over how soft Sander’s hair was between his fingers, despite the fact that the ends were dry and dead from the bleach. “My father was the cook of the family,” he said. Something personal, but not intimate. “He had this recipe for blood sausage that had so many spices my mother could never stomach it. We would bring it to dinner parties when we didn’t like the people. It was funny to watch them try and compliment it during the meal when they clearly hated every last bite.” This was the story’s happier conclusion. Its actual conclusion was that his father took all the recipe cards when he walked out, and Robbe didn’t know the ingredients even though his father promised he’d get them when he turned sixteen.
“Tell me something nice.” He poked Sander.
“I don’t know if what you said constitutes nice,” said Sander. He reached up and ran a finger across Robbe’s chin. But he went on. “There’s this lady where I work over the summer that brings me David Bowie albums. She gets so excited every time she finds a new one in a garage sale somewhere, or at store, and I can’t tell her that I already own the albums already. I have five copies of Space Oddity.”
Robbe didn’t know who David Bowie was.
Another lapse into silence. Sander never seemed to mind a comfortable quiet. He guided Robbe’s head down to his for a simple kiss, but he left his eyes open, and Robbe could follow his sightline to Noor and Britt as they walked back to the castle from who-knows-where.
“Tell me something secret,” said Robbe. This much time without something on his mind could be seriously painful. “I went first last time.”
He kind of wanted Sander to refuse.
“I don’t have any secrets, Robbe.”
“You must have one.”
“Do you?”
Robbe shook his head quicker than he should have. He tried to sound as casual as possible when he said, “I’m an open book,” but he doubted it did any good.
The thing was, it was totally believable that Sander wouldn’t have any secrets. This was the boy who announced his sexuality to a friend of a friend that he didn’t even know. This was the boy who saw someone else in the astronomy tower, unloaded his relationship woes, and promptly kissed said someone else to get away from them. What did he have to hide, besides this relationship? What could someone like him possibly have to hide?
The dying day faded everything out into a stained-glass image that could take up the wall of a Hogwarts bathroom. Robbe let himself relax until his surroundings were no more than shapes and colors, pushing everything from his mind until he could barely process his hands running through Sander’s hair. The thoughts surfaced anyway. He was going to have to tell the boys about this, eventually, and maybe even Sander himself, if that was possible. Even now, his skin was electrified from contact.
So much for pushing back the sexuality crisis. It had to happen today.
“It is kind of nerve-wracking, all these people to convince,” Sander said, out of the blue. “I don’t even know who that guy is.” He pointed vaguely at Milan. “But right here, with us, this is okay. It’s just me. That’s my secret.”
That’s exactly the problem, thought Robbe. It’s just you. And I’m falling in love with you.
He said, “That’s a cop-out. Tell me something else.”
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goldenkookietae · 4 years
Text
Love Borrowed (M) | KNJ
BTS One shot
Pairing: Musician!Namjoon x reader
Word count: 7,011 words
Warnings: fluff, cute, excessive love for books (not really a warning but idk), little heartbreak(?), smut
Summary: It’s been a long time since you’ve visited the local library. But when you do, you didn’t expect to bump into Kim Namjoon, a book lover just like you. When you start spending all of your time together, you realise that maybe everything in those romantic novels you loved could actually happen in real life.
A/N: Omg, I just added this one to my personal favourites and I am so surprised that I was able to finish this faster than my other ones. Anything that crosses your mind while reading this, comment or send me an ask! Hope y’all enjoy it!
Disclaimer: This story is an AU fan fiction that I have created using the names of the members of BTS. I do not claim any ownership over the members of BTS. The plot and the personalities of the characters are entirely my own.
Do not plagiarise my work and do not repost.
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Moodboard
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*I do not claim ownership over any of the pictures. They are credited to their original owners.
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Stepping out of the house that day felt different. No one was giving her worried stares, no one was trying to convince her to stay home and no one had so far, looked at her with pitiful eyes. Y/N felt free after a very long time. It wasn’t as though the people around her were very controlling, not at all. It was just something everyone did while looking out for their loved ones.
A soft breeze ruffled her hair, stray strands moving to cover her face as she walked down the road she knew like the back of her hand. Pushing them behind her ear, she sighed in content, her eyes locking onto her destination. A small village where everyone knew each other, and everything was just a walk away. Nothing had changed much, except for her.
The local library was an old building, not the most famous, only recalled by youngsters struggling with assignments and a few rare people with a penchant for reading. That was why she was there that day, a familiar feeling of comfort settling into her bones as she entered the brick building. There were only about five people inside, maybe a few more in between the shelves, but she could see only students sitting in different corners, for what Y/N assumed was more focus.
The walls were lined with huge shelves of books, some old and rusty, some stained and a few looking brand new which were definitely added recently. Y/N usually preferred books that had a used feel to them, it was somehow better than the stiff pages of books never touched before. The yellow pages gave her an odd sense of relief and unlike other book lovers, she enjoyed marking her books and dog-earing the pages.
The old lady who usually looked over the library was missing that day, but it was evident that no one ever stole anything from the place. People had a sense of trust there, remembering to return books and making sure they were put back in the right shelf. In a way, that was the respect the old lady had earned from the visitors through the years of manning the place.
Y/N stopped in front of a shelf randomly, inspecting the spines of books trying to choose which ones she could take home. The shelves went up as high as the roof (which was actually pretty low) and Y/N was suddenly reminded of the library at Hogwarts. Chucking the Harry Potter books into the must-read list, her gaze went higher, and she came across a book that looked more like a diary, thick brown leather and a tie going around it and disappearing behind. Curiously, she pulled a ladder towards herself and climbed up slowly, clutching the shelves to keep herself steady. As soon as her hands caught the spine, she quickly came down, knowing she might just topple off being the clumsy person that she was.
“Hi.” She jerked when the voice sounded much too loud in the silence of the library, turning around and being faced with a broad chest. Blushing, she looked up at the person, and the first thing she noticed was a dimpled smile. Glasses drooped from the bridge of his nose as he tilted down to look at her. His brown hair fell to the top of his ears, lightly parted in the middle to give a glimpse of his forehead.
This man was beautiful. Even more so when he raised his eyebrows at her and touched her arm lightly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He muttered and Y/N shook her head smiling.
“No, I was just surprised that’s all.”  She said, holding her book tighter to her chest and squeezing it lightly.
“I’m Namjoon. I’m new here.” He held out his hand and Y/N took it immediately, gripping his warm hand and giving it a light shake.
“Y/N.” She said, and when she was about to pull back, Namjoon caught her hand and jiggled it quickly, then swung their hands side to side. To most it might’ve looked weird but Y/N recognised it immediately.
“No one has ever given me a Narnian handshake before.” She laughed and Namjoon followed. It was surprising that this small reference to a movie she’d watched as a kid brought about a burst of comfort while she was in the presence of this stranger, because they were still swinging their hands and neither one of them felt awkward about it.
And that was the beginning of their friendship, that would soon turn into more. Over the next week, they visited the library often, and in between those days, the excitement that came with going to the library shifted from the love of books to the loving company of each other. Y/N found herself struggling to remain silent at times, trying to hide her giggles at the goofy faces Namjoon made from across the shelves.
They fell into a routine of reading, picking a book as soon as they came in and competing as to who would finish their book sooner. The next day, they would exchange their books and the battle for the fastest reader began all over again. Once both were done, they would review each one, telling each other their favourite parts and their interpretations of the how the author meant to deliver certain lines.
Y/N wished she could do this all her life. She was starting to lose these battles, often opting to stare at the man across her than the letters in her book. The book was definitely interesting, and on any other day, she would’ve been so immersed in it that she would skip her meals. But that day, Kim Namjoon, who was reading, sat on the floor across her, his hair tucked into a beret, glasses sitting low on his nose and his back leaning against the shelf, legs crossed and the evening sun casting a golden glow upon him - he, had all her attention. Y/N watched him from the top of her book as his lips lifted into a small smile at what she assumed was a good part in the book. She would definitely hear all about it later from him and she wouldn’t dare forget.
How could this man be so beautiful? How could he, who she barely knew anything about apart from the fact that he loved reading and was a hopeless romantic just like her, be so attracted to him? So much that he was all she could think about every second of the day.
Before she could decide to look away, Namjoon’s gaze abruptly shifted to her and in that moment she froze, her eyes not leaving his and accepting the fact that he’d caught her staring. This happened much too often these days, when they’d pick their books and accidentally catch each other on opposite sides, or when they were both reaching for the same book.
Y/N still couldn’t forget the one time that she’d caught him staring at her while she was reading a Sherlock Holmes mystery. They both knew she’d caught him, but Namjoon had played it off as something so normal, going so far as to pull her bottom lip from between her teeth and telling her, “You look adorable when you read.”
Her cheeks blushed a furious red every time she remembered that day and it didn’t get any better when such compliments became more frequent.
Her heart thumped when Namjoon got up and walked over to her, sitting so close to her that their sides were pressed against each other. Y/N liked the warmth and wondered why they hadn’t done that before.
She turned her head towards Namjoon, when he cleared his throat, something he usually did when he first spoke after a stretch of silence.
“Y/N, I was wondering. Maybe we could read somewhere else tomorrow? I was out cycling last night and I found this amazing place and it’d would make an awesome place to read. You can read in the open air, with a cool breeze and we could bring some food along too. Like a picnic! I know you’ll love it!” Namjoon looked at her nervously, waiting to see if she would share the same opinion as him.
He didn’t have to wait for long. The beautiful description that Namjoon gave her already had her agreeing, but the shine in his eyes when he spoke about it and the way he’d thought of sharing this amazing place with her was what made her heart flutter.
“Of course. Come pick me up tomorrow at my house.” She said, trying to sound casual and hoping to god that he couldn’t hear her heart thundering inside her chest.
And as she sat down on the blue blanket laid on the grass the next day, her heart was still beating out of her chest as she watched Namjoon carry the picnic basket to put it in front of her and then laying down spread eagled. The place really was beautiful, a small clearing in the middle of a field, the sound of a gurgling water from a nearby stream soothing to listen to. She looked down at the man who’d brought her to that place as she fiddled with her hands.
Hesitantly she reached out her hands and touched his hair, and she sighed at how soft it felt. Without thinking much she carded her hands through his hair, noticing that Namjoon had closed his eyes.
“Why did you shift here?” She asked suddenly, the thought of a successful music composer shifting to a small town unexpectedly made her believe that it wasn’t just a casual thing like he’d said before. She half expected her question to go unanswered, thinking Namjoon might’ve dozed off.
But he answered a few minutes later, his eyes still closed as he lifted his head from the blanket onto her lap.
“When I first moved into the city, I loved it. It made me feel important in a way, the busy roads, the constant phone calls, meeting so many few faces, it was all so new. But, it got really tiring you know? I started disliking everything about it, I realised my life had become so hectic, so chaotic, that I actually had no time for myself. I was so lost trying to make a place for myself, I think I lost myself somewhere along the way.” Namjoon paused.
He had no idea why he had decided to spill everything, he hadn’t even answered her question but he knew her. He knew she would understand him, at least that was what he hoped. He didn’t dare open his eyes, because he was scared of what he would see. What if she was uncomfortable and didn’t really want to listen to him talk about his problems? An apology was at the tip of his tongue, guilty for dumping his thoughts onto her out of the blue.
“What made you realise?” Y/N asked, and Namjoon felt his shoulders relax. Her tone sounded sincere, and with all that he knew about her, he could tell that she wanted to know and wasn’t asking just because she felt obligated to.
“Two years ago, it was summer, and one of my friends visited this town. When he came back, I could see the change in him. He seemed much more happy, constantly reliving memories from his trip. It was clear that he met someone there, and the letters he would constantly write, all the time he spent talking on the phone and the kind of songs he wrote, it was obvious. Be it that person, or the town or the people here, it had inspired him to do better. So that’s why I came here. To find inspiration.” he finished. He restrained from telling her more, constantly biting his tongue so as to not slip something she wasn’t ready for yet.
“Did you find it?” Y/N asked, her voice small while she absorbed everything Namjoon had said. At that his eyes finally opened, looking up at her as though he had seen the shining stars in her eyes for the first time.
“Yes, I definitely did.” He whispered, and with slow movements so as to not startle her, he brought his hands to rest on Y/N’s cheeks, praying that she was okay with their pace. After all, she didn’t know him like he knew her. Her comfort was the top most priority and he would do anything to keep her at ease. When he saw her cheeks darken and grow warm in his hands, his eyes slipped to her lips and back up to her eyes, only to notice that she was staring at his lips too.
He pulled her face closer to his, watching her reaction, a bated breath and a million thundering heart beats later, their lips finally touched. And in that moment, everything in his life felt complete again. Their lips moved together in  sync, and Y/N was amazed at how wondrous it felt. How right it felt. Her body responded to his touch so spontaneously that it was hard to believe that she’d met this man just a month ago. He kissed her and held her like she was his entire world and she kissed him back like he was her home.
When they both parted for air, she rested her forehead against his, her form bent over him while her arms went around his neck and laid on his chest. They both breathed heavily, Y/N overwhelmed by all the emotion she felt and Namjoon trying to keep his tears from falling. It had been too long.
Pushing his lips into a smile, he slowly moved from her lap and reached out for the picnic basket that he’d brought. When he opened it, he put out all the food they’d stuffed inside, his hands finding the one thing he was looking for.
“I brought you a gift.” Namjoon said, making Y/N look at him curiously. Her eyes moved to the small package he held and she already knew what it was. Judging by the paper brown cover and the slim but stiff shape, it definitely had to be a book.
She took it from him greedily, carefully tilting the package and letting the book fall onto her lap. The words “Under the Stars” were printed in stylish cursive on the cover, the background showed the twinkling night sky of a city and a boy donned in a yellow jacket stood with his back facing her. It was definitely not a new book judging by the coffee coloured pages and the dog-eared corners. She quickly flipped through the pages, seeing a lot of places where the sentences were highlighted in different colours and a page where it looked like something had been spilt on it.
“I know it doesn’t look great but, it’s my favourite book. I’ve read it more than a million times and every time I start it again, I just read it like it’s my first time. All the highlights, they’re my favourite lines, all the dog-eared pages, they’re my favourite parts of the story. I wanted you to read it. I think you’ll love it.” Namjoon smiled softly.
Y/N was at a loss for words. His words had stirred something deep inside her, because she was so sure she’d never come across anyone more beautiful than Kim Namjoon - the man who stole her heart, in her entire life. His thoughts, his gestures, his words, everything about him was so pure and so honest, falling in love was inevitable.
She couldn’t help it when she pounced onto him from her place, throwing her arms around his neck and not caring that the force of her attack had made both of them fall backwards. She lay there clutching him close to her, feeling a warmth bloom inside her when his arms wrapped around her waist.
“Thank you. I know I’ll love it.” She whispered, and she felt him smile as his face nestled closer into the crook of her neck.
That night, Y/N sat in bed after a long shower, the sheets pulled over her form as she clutched the book above them. Looking at the book made her feel so giddy, the butterflies in her stomach only multiplying when she touched her lips, feeling the lingering taste of Namjoon’s lips on hers. When he’d kissed her good night after walking her home, it had taken everything in her not to cling to him and stay glued to his side.
Y/N couldn’t believe it was happening, her life seeming like all the love stories she’d read in the novels. Their moments were magical, spell-binding and the only thing that made her afraid was that, all such stories did have a tragic twist, and she hated that the thought had even crossed her mind. Nothing could make her give him up now, and she would prove the fact that not all stories were that complicated.
People meet, like each other, fall in love, get married, have a beautiful family and live happily ever after. That was what would happen. Y/N buried her face in her pillow, blushing at the thought that she’d road mapped her entire life with Namjoon just after their first kiss. Clearing her throat she flipped to the first page of “Under the Stars” and began reading.
“I can’t believe this. This book is enchanting.” she said, two weeks later, her eyes roaming over the coloured pages for the hundredth time. Namjoon laid on the blanket as usual, his head resting on Y/N’s thighs as he read a book while holding it up over his chest. The place had quickly become their special place and they spent most of their time there. However, this time around, their focus was always interrupted by each other, with stolen glances and quick kisses.
“Yes, I know, it’s a beautiful book.” Namjoon said, put his book down on his chest and smiling at her. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it. I can’t believe it isn’t more popular. The last part when they’re both at the roof confessing to each other, my favourite.” Y/N enthused, remembering the last pages, where almost every line had been highlighted and all page corners had been folded inwards. It made her feel like there was something about this book that Namjoon was keeping from her and that bothered her. She desperately wanted to know.
“Why’re there three colours here?” She asked as she pointed to the highlights. A few lines were marked in yellow and light pink, and a majority of them were in orange as though both yellow and pink had been used, turning it into a different colour altogether.
Namjoon’s response came all too quickly. “Just colours.” He shrugged, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice that there was a little hesitance in his voice. That only confirmed her suspicion, and at the same time made her feel like she was over thinking things.
“I see.” She said, flipping another page full of colours, this one dog-eared. She heard Namjoon hum, before he was pulling away from her and sitting upright.
“Have I kissed you today?” He asked, his finger tapping against his chin as he pretended to think. Y/N giggled and set aside her book, crossing her arms as she imitated his look.
“I don’t know...have you?” She asked playfully, conveniently pushing aside the fact that they’d spent the whole ride there stealing kisses from each other.
“Don’t think I have.” Namjoon bit his lip and Y/N followed, biting her own.
“No you haven’t.” She told him, watching him crawl closer to her as he stopped inches from her face.
“Better late than never.” Namjoon murmured before pulling Y/N to him, their lips clashing hungrily, a need to feel each other closer etched in their minds. Her hands trailed over his chest and reached behind him, meshing with his soft hair trying to pull him closer. His tongue trailed over her bottom lip softly, waiting, and she let out a tiny gasp as she parted her lips. The soft muscle immediately clashed with hers, and she wondered if she could ever stop herself from kissing him.
His hands on her hips tightened as he pulled her up onto his lap, her legs going around his waist immediately so she could feel him against her. One hand reached up to cup her jaw as he bit on her lip and pulled. A moan spilt from her lips as a low groan rumbled in Namjoon’s chest.
Before she could do the same to him, a splitting ache hit her, a sudden jolt of pain as she pulled away and clutched her head. Her brain went blank, her eyes turned foggy for a few moments before the pain receded in waves, making her breathless and exhausted.
Namjoon sat stock still, his hands holding her steady as he rubbed soothing circles into her back while she recovered. She’d already told him about this, and he’d already seen it happen to her once before and also panicked, but Y/N had explained it to him. Since then, he’d hoped. He hated seeing her in pain, but he hoped it could bring back something.
“I’m sorry, that wasn’t on purpose. I really want to-” Y/N started feeling guilty that something like that had to happen in the middle of such an amazing moment, but Namjoon cut her off.
“It’s okay, love. I know.” He smiled, rubbing her arms and giving her a small kiss on her nose. “Do you want to lie down?” He asked, and she nodded slowly, the need to close her eyes growing even more.
Y/N sighed as she let Namjoon do all the work, clearing up the place for her as she lay down. He quickly joined her side and she wasted no time in turning towards him and laying on his chest. His arm spread underneath her, curling around her shoulder to pull her closer as his bicep acted as her pillow.
His warmth, his musky scent and his steady heartbeat. Those were all she needed to fall asleep.
“I’ll let you borrow that one.”
“I’ll let you borrow that one.”
“I’ll let you borrow that one.”
“I’ll let you borrow that one.”
“I’ll let you borrow that one.” 
“I’ll let you borrow that one.” 
“I’ll let you borrow that one.”
The words echoed over and over again and Y/N jolted from her sleep. Her forehead was covered with a layer of sweat and her breath came out in pants as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.
The book, those words, they definitely had to be a memory, and even if it wasn’t much, it meant everything to Y/N. It was like looking through a keyhole, being able to see just a glimpse of it, but not knowing what secrets the room held. But somehow, she knew she didn’t need all of those. She’d remembered something that was enough to make her believe of its existence, and the rest, she knew she had someone to depend on for.
That someone was now sitting up with her, hugging her tightly and rocking her as though she had had a nightmare. She smiled. It was good dream, it was a memory.
““I’ll let you borrow that one”, that’s what I’d said. I remember Namjoon, I gave you that book.” She whispered, and felt him stiffen behind her. Those were words he’d dreamed of hearing, never in a million years thought she would say them and now that she had, he had no clue on what to do.
“How much do you remember?” He asked, his voice shaky and he tried to gulp down the lump in his throat. At his words, Y/N looked away from him, her face frowning as she tried to recollect.
“I’m sorry, it’s not much. But I remember using the pink highlighter. I did those, didn’t I? In the book? I’m really sorry, I am trying to remember but I just-ugh.” Y/N grew frustrated that her memory was failing her the one time she had needed it desperately.
After her accident, she had made peace with the fact that she’d lost two years worth of memories, because she had been around the same people all her life who told her all that had happened. But what she did not expect and never gave much thought to was the fact that all her memories with a particular person had been completely wiped out. 
Her recovery itself had taken more than six months and she’d had an year to get back to normal when she understood that those memories were gone. But had still left a mark upon her. She just hadn’t tried, she hadn’t known to try and remember things at all. As though her thoughts, were written all over her face, Namjoon clutched her closer, sensing the anger bubbling in her voice.
“Shh...baby it’s not your fault. I’ll tell you everything there is to know. You trust me, don’t you?” Namjoon asked, tilting her chin towards him with a finger making her look him in the eyes.
“Yes. Oh god yes, I do. Please tell me. I’m so sorry I forgot you.” Her voice trembled as the first tear rolled down her cheek and Namjoon wiped it away instantly.
“I’m here now. We’re both here now. Together.” Namjoon whispered, pecking Y/N’s lips softly before sighing. His eyes held a nostalgic look, as he opened up a painful part of his memories.
“Remember that friend I told you about?” He asked, smiling when she nodded quickly, “Well, that was actually me. I visited this town two years ago in summer, and I met you in the library. You bumped into me while searching for a book.  It was a fantasy book about werewolves I believe, The Lycan Mark, I think, which I thought was absolutely ridiculous.” Namjoon chuckled as Y/N hit his shoulder playfully, muttering something about werewolves being very interesting.
“Anyway, you gave me the Narnian handshake and pretty much everything happened like it did this time, we read together all the time, and it was then that I’d found this place. I brought you here and we kissed here. You bought ‘Under the Stars’ at a local fair, and you read it first to make sure I’d like it. You marked all your favourite lines and pages with a pink highlighter and gifted it to me one day. I went home and did the same thing with yellow. Most of our favourites were the same, you noticed the orange ones.” He smiled.
“Those three months were the best ever in my life. But then I had to leave, I had visited just for the summer, I had a job back in the city, friends, I had to go back. But we kept in touch, we wrote each other letters like the hopeless romantics we were and we called each other all the time. That happened for around two months.” He sighed, reminiscing all the days, where he’d stare at his phone waiting for it to ring with Y/N’s name.
“And then the accident happened.” Y/N whispered, suddenly feeling an ache in her chest.
“Yes, I know now. I didn’t receive any letters, no calls, and when I called you, the number was out of service. I thought about it for months about what happened, but there was no form of communication. I finally decided that it had just been a summer love, right? And that I should move on, I tried to, for more than an year. But I just got tired of my life there, it wasn’t so exciting without being with you on the phone for hours or opening up your letter. So I came back here to find you, hoping I’d get some explanation.” Namjoon sighed, giving her a sad smile while Y/N clutched his hands in hers.
“How did you know?” She asked, giving his hand a light squeeze.
“The day I met you at the library, you saw me coming towards the building and I recognised you, but you didn’t. I was so confused. I asked the old lady who you were, hoping she’d tell me of anything that had changed about you and she’d just told me everything she knew. For a moment, it felt like my world had turned upside down.” Namjoon chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood when they both knew that he’d been more affected than just that.
“I’m so sorry.” Y/N whispered, bringing his hand to her face and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Their story was really something like the novels. A fairy tale meeting, happy moments of love. She was right about the tragic twist too, except she didn’t realise until then that it had already happened. But Namjoon was the one who’d fought for her. He had waited patiently and was still doing the same. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it had been for him.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you were in the accident. Or when you were recovering. I’m sorry I ever left.” Namjoon gulped, the lump in his throat making itself painful evident as tears brimmed in his eyes.
“Please don’t apologise, all this time, you’ve been trying to make me remember, right from the moment you met me. The handshake, this place, that kiss, the book,” her voice broke as she held back a sob, "I’m sorry it took this long.” she whispered.
Namjoon simply shook his head, bringing her closer and swallowing her sobs as he covered her mouth with his. He kissed her slowly this time, making sure to savour every second of how her lips felt pressed against him. Feeling comfort at the fact that she remembered maybe not all of him, but at least a piece that connected her to him. They could always make new memories.
They were making one right then, holding each other close as realisation dawned upon them. He held her and kissed her like she was his entire world because that’s exactly what she was. And she kissed him back like he was her home, because that was what he was.
Y/N pulled back to look him in the eyes, her hands softly combing through his hair as she looked at him lovingly. Namjoon closed his eyes slowly, sighing in content as he felt the weight and tension of finally drop from his shoulders, his heart now as light as a feather. When his eyes snapped open, he felt the shift in her gaze as she leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his jaw.
The kiss ignited a fire in his chest and it only burned brighter as Y/N continued to pepper his jaw with kisses, slowly trailing down and breathing on his neck. He felt her lips touch his skin and he shivered when she bit him lightly. Cupping her cheeks, he brought her up to his face again, greedily pressing his lips to hers and slipping his tongue into her mouth to taste her.
His hands slipped under her shirt, rubbing the soft skin of her waist, warm against cool skin. He pulled away from her slightly, still brushing his lips against hers and rubbing soothing circles into her skin.
“Are you cold, baby?” Namjoon asked and despite feeling the chill of the evening settle into her bones, she shook her head just as a shiver ran through her. Namjoon smiled as pulled back from her a little, while she followed his movements to stay closer to him. She watched him pull out another blanket from their basket, spreading it open and wrapping it around her shoulders.
Holding on to the edges of the blanket, he pulled her closer, rubbing her arms in attempts to make her warm. Her lips had found their way back to his neck, peppering kisses while moving higher as she kissed right below his ear. As she adjusted herself closer to him, she felt it, his hardness poking her thighs as it strained against the material of his jeans.
Namjoon flushed a beet red and made to move instantly, clutching Y/N to lift her off of him, but she didn’t budge. Her arms tightened around his shoulders as she wiggled in his lap making sure to brush against his bulge in the process. Hesitantly, he pushed his hips upwards and felt a rush of emotion when Y/N threw her head back with her mouth open.
He didn’t want to rush things and he certainly did not want to make her feel pressured into doing something together and so he bit his lip and looked into her eyes, asking her silently if that was what she wanted.
Y/N couldn’t believe this man, always so concerned about her, always trying to put her comfort above his. Maybe, probably, they were moving a little too fast but when Y/N looked into Namjoon’s eyes she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. Who knew what might happen the next day, life was short and full of unexpected twists every nook and corner, and she could only think of making the most of the moment right there, make every second the happiest. Because that was what Namjoon gave her. Happiness.
And even though her eyes had made her intentions clear, she still said them out loud, to make him happy. “I’m sure. I want you, Joon.”
His heart jolted at that, the form of endearment making it beat faster than it already was. Slowly he turned them both around and laid Y/N on the blanket, her hair splaying out around her like a halo. He stared at her for a long moment, memorising they way she looked right then, going over her features repeatedly to ensure he’d never forget. It was only when she pulled him down by the collar of his shirt whining that he let his eyes close.
Their lips never left each others as they clumsily slipped out of their clothes under the blanket, the chilly night breeze hitting their bare skin and Namjoon pulled the blanket tighter around them.
“Tell me to stop if anything is too much, okay? Promise me.” He whispered, his self control teetering at the edge of a cliff, waiting for him to let go. His erection had become painful, and even if she stopped him right then, he would still have to go sit behind a tree and jerk himself off to ever feel peaceful again.
“I promise.” Y/N whispered before she pulled him to her again, while their hands explored each others skin. She glided her hands over his smooth chest and his abdomen, her fingers tracing the small dips of skin at the edges of his abs. Namjoon let out a soft sigh as she flicked his nipple, and she made sure to remember that it was something he enjoyed.
Namjoon trailed kisses down to her chest, placing tiny kisses just at the swell of her breast and sucking on them, creating hues of pink and purple. A hand came up to squeeze her breast, his other holding him above her so as to not crush her with his weight. His mouth covered her breast as he flattened his tongue against the soft flesh and then flicking her nipple making Y/N moan softly. His fingers imitated his moments on her other breast and her hands travelled up his back as she held onto his shoulders.
With her mind in a mess at how hot and bothered Namjoon made her feel, her thighs clenched together instinctively as she struggled to feel pleasure in her attempts to create friction between her thighs. She pushed her hips upward in need, her skin meeting his, as his hardened member settled into the dip between her thighs. Namjoon let out a load groan as he felt her flesh squeeze together against his member, the fractional moment of pleasure making him frustrated and needing more.
Y/N continued to tease him, enjoying the way Namjoon would release soft gasps while he rolled his tongue around her nipples to make her feel the same intensity. When she’d almost become smug with the fact, she felt Namjoon’s fingers slip between her folds, and she let out a strangled gasp.
“So wet.” Namjoon whispered as he spread the arousal dripping between her thighs all over her heat, flicking her clit before experimentally sliding a finger into her wetness. “So tight.” He grunted as Y/N clutched onto him tighter, her nails digging into his skin as she felt her walls squeeze his finger. He was slowly thrusting his fingers into her, setting a steady pace as he added another finger when he felt her relax a little. Her last time had been more than two years ago, and the feeling felt foreign, yet so much needed as she circled her hips against his fingers.
He slowly added a third finger, his pace going a little faster as tiny mewls slipped out of Y/N’s mouth. Even when she was so tight around his fingers, she couldn’t help but feel the need for more, spilling out the same in words that were lost with her moans.
Before he could push her to her edge she gripped his wrist stilling his ministrations while she tried to regain her breathing. Namjoon looked at her with worry, wondering if he’d gone too fast in the heat of the moment, but Y/N’s next words erased all such thoughts from his mind.
“I want you inside me.” She whispered and Namjoon licked his lips as he slipped his fingers out of her and laid his hand on her belly. Fumbling with a pocket of his jeans lying next to their tangled legs, he tore open the wrapper of a condom as he rolled it onto his member in a hurry.
“Did you expect us to do it today?” Y/N giggled amused, watching Namjoon hurry back into place.
“When you’re around someone you like, you always gotta carry stuff around ya know. Wouldn’t want something so trivial put a break to what could be.” Namjoon chuckled, watching Y/N let out another sweet giggle and he beamed at her. Scooping down to indulge in a rather mushy kiss, his hand travelled down to his length.
Rubbing the tip of his member against her folds, he gathered Y/N’s slick arousal and rubbed it over his length , slowly edging into her heat as she held onto him tightly. Y/N let out a low breath, willing herself to relax as she tried to accommodate the stretch from his thick length. A few seconds later, she nodded to him, Namjoon seeing that as the green light and thrusting into her at a slow pace.
As they both moaned together, a sudden urgency creeped up on them, the need to become each other’s tearing through their skin as they moved faster, Namjoon pumping into her at a faster pace and Y/N pushing her hips up to met his hips for every thrust. They couldn’t describe it any other way than the fear of losing each other again, and the what if’s of whether or not they would find each other again. It was a stinging feeling in Namjoon’s mind, the thought of it making his eyes tear at everything he had been through since Y/N had stopped writing to him. Y/N could sense it in the way Namjoon was breathless, and the salty taste that met her lips when they kissed.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She reassured him silently, watching him pull away from her face to look at her, his pace slowing down again. His eyes shone brighter than the stars in the sky, their light somehow dimming in the wake of his mesmerising eyes. Namjoon was astonished that she could tell what he had been thinking and those were the exact words he’d needed to hear.
“I won’t ever let you go.” He vowed, thrusting into her deeply as Y/N moaned, feeling him hit the perfect spot. Everything was heavenly at that moment, they were in each others arms, warm, and were becoming one under the starry sky. The beauty of it was beyond compare and Y/N bit her lip as she felt Namjoon lower down slightly and press his body against hers gently.
A knot grew inside her, and her back arched, pushing her chest to Namjoon’s torso making him grunt. She wrapped her hands his neck instinctively as he buried his face in her nape, his plump lips touching her skin softly. The knot in her stomach grew as Namjoon thrusted into her faster, his hand coming up again to fondle her clit.
With one flick at the nub, the knot unfurled, Y/N shuddering as hot pleasure shot through her body. It left her gasping and moaning, her held tilted to the side and pressed to the blanket and she pinched her eyes shut. With Y/N’s walls clenching around his member, Namjoon followed her into nirvana, his load filling up the condom as he rode out his orgasm moaning Y/N’s name.
He slowly came to a stop, pulling out and ripping the condom off to dispose it. He laid down beside Y/N after, pulling her onto his body so she was laying on his chest. A few synchronised breaths later, they both turned to each and smiling as though they had something in mind.
“I love you.” They whispered together, a smile growing on both of their lips as their cheeks tinted a light pink. Namjoon slowly titled Y/N’s face towards himself with his hand, kissing her softly before touching their foreheads together.
As they lay under the stars, hugging each other tightly, they were both calm and peaceful. They loved each other and were together and nothing could ever keep them apart. Because no matter what, they’d find a way back to each other. They were each others home, and as they rightly say ‘Home is where the heart is’.
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A/N: Let me know if you guys want me to write about ‘Under the Stars’ too. If you do, which member au would you like it to be?
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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years
Text
Lockscreens (ch. 2)
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tw: Drinking
Word count: 2.9k
Genre: Angst, fluff
All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*
Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader
Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?
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ch 2: Broken and New Promises (Month 1)
Nearly four years ago...
“Babe, guess what?” She looked up from the tea-cup that sat in front of her, over the pastries as (e/c) eyes made contact with gold. Her eyebrows quirked up as she took a sip, swallowing it and her apprehension. She had invited her boyfriend to their favorite cafe to tell him some life-changing news. “I just got scouted!” Her eyes widened, choking slightly on the hot beverage. 
“Really? That’s great!” 
“Yeah, it’s a two-year contract for now. They want to send me to their training camp starting next week and I’ll be gone for the next six months. After that, I’m going to officially join the team and everything!” A soft pout made its way to his face as he played with his fingers. “That means I have to leave this weekend.” 
Delicately placing the tea-cup down, a soft hand reached out for his. “Kou, it’s okay. This is the opportunity you’ve been looking for all of your life.” With a thick swallow, she steeled her nerves. “I’m not going to keep you here. Please, go live your life and you better be the best ace out there, okay?” 
“We can make this work! I’ll come home to visit, and we’ll call every day, I promise.” 
A sad smile; a clenched fist under the table. “I’m sure we can.” 
“I love you.” A kiss to her hand.
A squeeze from hers. “I love you too.” 
****
It wasn’t long before those promises were being broken. It started with skipping the ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts. Then it became unresponded texts spanning over multiple days. Phone calls were missed. Video-calls were forgotten and ignored. Visits planned and cancelled. The phone rang. (Name) glanced down at her purse at the sound, pulling the phone out. “Hello?” 
“Hey, (Name)! Was wondering, have you heard from Bokuto recently?” 
“No, I haven’t.” She couldn’t bring herself to smile. “He’s been busy with his new team.” A veiled sigh. The phone was squeezed between her shoulder and ear as she readjusted her basket.
“I’m not even surprised, it’s only been a month since he’s left after all. He was supposed to come back for the Gym 3 reunion dinner this weekend but nobody’s really heard from him in the group-chat.”
She let out a soft laugh. “I’m surprised you and the others still have time to meet up.” (Name) bent down, comparing two different packs of vitamins. 
“Yeah well, I like to remember my roots unlike some people.” His laughter warmed her heart. “Say, even though Bokuto isn’t coming, we still want you there! I’m sure the others prefer you over him anyways. Besides, I miss my best friend!” 
A gentle hum in response as she reviewed her calendar. “This weekend right? I should be free, just send me the details.” 
“Great! See you soon.” She ended the call, staring at her phone screen for a moment longer. It was a picture of (Name) and Bokuto underneath the sakura trees, petals falling onto their heads as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Another drawn out sigh before she locked the phone, tucking it away to finish running errands as she placed a bottle of vitamins into her basket.
****
“Hey, you made it!” (Name) stepped into the restaurant, glancing around only to find a tall, dark-haired idiot waving his arms aggressively. 
“I said I was coming, didn’t I?” Her good-natured laugh made the others around the table break out into chuckles. Kuroo patted the empty seat beside him, gesturing for her to take it. “Where’s Akaashi?” (E/c) eyes scanned the table. Across from her, Tsukishima was sitting beside Lev, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else but there. An empty seat was left on Kuroo’s other side.
“He couldn’t make it. Something about deadlines.”
“Guess the Fukurodani boys aren’t loyal to their roots,” she teased, elbowing Kuroo. His loud laugh caught the eyes of the rest of the patrons as she rolled hers. Kuroo always had an obnoxious laugh, one that fit his messy hair.
“At least you came.” He pulled her into a side-hug. “Missed you, Manager-chan.” Soon enough, they had all placed their orders. Smiling behind her glass of water, she observed as Lev and Kuroo finished their beers, bellies shaking with the roar of their laughter. Tsukishima wasn’t quite as vocal, but his cheeks had also become tinged pink from the beer.  Kuroo wiped a tear away from his eye, trying to speak before Lev made another comment that sent the older male into another fit of laughter. 
“So, how have you been, Tsukishima?” She sent the boy a sympathetic smile, coaxing him to join in the conversation. 
“You know you can just call me Kei,” the boy rolled his eyes, cheeks becoming slightly more bright. “I’ve been good, just focusing on school work. How are you (L.Name)-san?”
“And I told you years ago, Kei, call me (Name),” she giggled, taking another sip of water. “I’ve been okay, just about finished with my degree.” 
“Right, what are you studying again?”
She cleared her throat, ignoring the other boys who began another round of beers. “I went to school for sports medicine.” 
“And it’s all because of me!” Kuroo proclaimed, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Warm breath tainted with beer blew on her face. 
She rolled her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.” She looked back to her audience jabbing a thumb at her former captain, “Kuroo ended up throwing his back out like the old man he is, so I ended up helping him with his rehabilitation.” The smile froze for a second, contemplating the secondary reason why she had chosen this route. All along she had known that Bokuto had plans to become a professional athlete. Going pro had always been his sense of normal. Her chosen path had made sense at the time if she had wanted to follow besides him on his climb to success. Them against the world. Another broken promise.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Kuroo’s loud whine. “I’m not an old man!”
Immediately, she and Lev replied, “yes you are.” 
Kuroo clicked his tongue in dismissal, finishing his beer. He placed it down, smacking his lips. “This has been fun. Why don’t we head back to my place and watch a movie or something?” 
“Can’t, got an exam coming up,” Tsukishima replied immediately, as they all stood up to make their way out.
“I promised my sister I would help her move tomorrow. She just got a job offer so she’s moving to be closer to it.” Lev whined. All three boys turned to look at her. A moment of hesitation.
“Sure, I don’t have anything to do tomorrow.” With that, she hugged the other boys good-bye as they walked off together in the opposite direction. “I’m guessing you didn’t drive?” She glanced at the tall former captain beside her. At the shake of his head, she escorted him to her car, unlocking it for him to get in. 
“Wow this is small.” He groaned, his head accidentally hitting the roof as he clambered in.
“You’re just freakishly big, Kuroo.” She teased, starting it as she reversed. Soft music played as they let the silence wash over them. The only interruptions came from Kuroo as he navigated her to his complex. Soon enough, they were standing in his living room. She stepped in, not having been there since Kuroo had first moved in. “It looks much homier now,” she commented, slipping her coat off as she hung it up on the hook.
“Kuroo, where do you want this box?” (Name) called, stepping in through the doorway only to be greeted with a loud crashing noise followed by a loud curse.
“Bokuto! I said over there, not here!” Kuroo jabbed his hand in the direction of the kitchen, scolding her boyfriend. Kuroo rubbed his foot, having kicked the box on accident. The box laid on its side, photo frames spilling out. 
“I’m sorry, I thought you meant here!” Bokuto argued, crossing his arms and pouting. “I don’t wanna help anymore.” 
“I was gone for five minutes.” She sighed, lips slightly pursed as she placed the box of kitchen supplies down on the counter before bending down to collect the frames. “Babe, can you just go get another box from the truck?” Bokuto bent down, hugging her around the shoulders. He peppered kisses along the side of her face. Bokuto huffed, his warm breath bathing her neck and causing goosebumps to prickle through her skin.
“Do I have to?”
“Please babe? The sooner we finish here, the sooner we can head home and cuddle.” He sprang up, giving her one last peck on the cheek before disappearing down the stairs. (Name) picked up a sleek black frame, turning it over to reveal chubby smiling faces. “I didn’t know you still had this.” 
Kuroo crouched down besides her, looking at the photo. It was a photo of them on their first day of middle-school. She was in a yellow frilly sundress, her hair in pig-tails. Kuroo was beside her, boyish cheeks puffed in a wide smile. He wore a blue t-shirt with a photo of a dog on it and yellow shorts. He snorted. “Of course I do, you looked absolutely ridiculous in that.” 
“Those yellow shorts didn’t do you any favors either,” she rolled her eyes, fixing the box so it sat up properly as she tucked the frame back into it. They looked around the apartment. Brown boxes were stacked everywhere, and the only furniture available was a wooden table in the living room. “Where’s the rest of the furniture?”
“Ah right, I should help Bokuto bring that in.” 
“Well, that happens when you live somewhere for awhile,” he chuckled, hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. The other hand gently guided her to the living room by the small of her back. “Pick something, I’m gonna change and get you something more comfortable to wear.” She hummed in response, tapping the buttons on the remote to select some random wildlife documentary before a sound interrupted her. Turning her head, she looked at Kuroo as he slipped back into the room, wearing an old volleyball tshirt and shorts. “Here you are,” he tossed her a shirt and shorts. 
“Thank you,” she replied, heading to the restroom. As she undressed, she couldn’t help but look at her stomach in the light, examining it at all angles. She had worn a loose sweater earlier. She let out a soft sigh. She’d have to start investing in more loose-fitting clothes. A sudden wave of nausea hit her as she flung herself onto the toilet, dry-heaving.
“Hey, (Name)—” The door creaked open as Kuroo knocked on it, she hadn’t closed it all the way. He stopped, eyes widening at her as fear-stricken eyes met his face. “Are you…”  
“Yes.” 
Kuroo shook his head, gently closing the door as he stepped back out to give her some privacy. She scolded herself as she cleaned up after herself. She had been hiding the secret for a while now, she hadn’t planned on letting her friends know quite yet. (Name) didn’t even know what her relationship status was anymore ever since Bokuto had left to pursue his professional career. Stepping out, she tugged the red t-shirt down more. Kuroo was seated on the couch, fingers interlocked as he stared passively at the frozen TV screen. She slipped behind the couch, coming around to the other end as she took a seat at the very end. “How long?” 
A deep gulp. “Two months.”
“His?” Kuroo’s eyes left the screen, hazel eyes piercing hers. Biting her bottom lip, she could only nod. “Are you keeping it?” A moment of hesitation before she nodded. “Does he know?” She tore her face away, swallowing thickly as shame surged through her. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I didn’t want him to give up his career for me.” Her soft words broke the silence. Kuroo sighed, moving to sit closer to her. A warm hand pulled hers away from her lap. 
“You didn’t have to be alone through this.” Fingers tilted her chin back to his face. “You know I would’ve been there in a heartbeat.”
“I didn’t want to be a burden.” 
At this, he snorted. “(Name), you’re one of my closest and oldest friends. When have you ever been a burden?” A small smile made its way to her face. Gentle hands pulled her head into his chest, a hand lightly stroking her hair. “Even if you don’t want Bokuto involved here, I want to be. You can’t get rid of me that easily, especially now that I know.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, his warm breath fanning across her face. “Now, let’s watch this documentary!” He pulled back, a wide grin appearing on his face.
****
The next morning, she woke up in an unfamiliar place. In the corner of her eye sitting on Kuroo’s desk, she caught a glimpse of two familiar kids beaming back. Her nose violently twitched as the smell of oil invaded her senses. Launching herself onto her feet, she disappeared into the restroom heaving over the porcelain throne. Behind her, she heard curses and loud foot-steps. “(Name)?” Kuroo made his way behind her, pulling her hair back as she retched. ‘Just like old times,’ she thought, remembering all the times she, Bokuto, and Kuroo had gone to town in the clubs and bars during the earlier years of college. “Shh, it’s okay,” Kuroo whispered, rubbing her back as she groaned. Panting, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, grimacing. “Are you okay?” 
She waved him off. “Just morning sickness.” 
“Have you been to the doctor’s yet?” She shook her head. “Don’t be stupid, you’re already eight weeks in.” She flushed the toilet, feeling her nausea subside. Standing up, she washed her hands. Kuroo left as she examined her reflection. Her skin was pale, beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She smacked her lips, face twisting at the taste. Kuroo reappeared, handing her an unopened toothbrush. “Toothpaste is in the cupboard,” he said, leaving her to her own devices. 
Quickly freshening up, she was greeted with the sight of two plates of grilled fishes and rice as she stepped back out to the living room. Another wave of nausea crashed over her, but she swallowed back the acrid taste. “Kuroo,” she sent him a glum expression. “That looks delicious, but I’m afraid I don’t think I can eat it.”
He frowned, “It’s never too early to give your baby docosahexaenoic acid, (Name)!” 
She rolled her eyes, laughing as she made her way into his kitchen to make herself some natto and miso soup. “Of course you’d say that, Kuroo.” Turning back to the stove, she gestured for him to eat.  “But unfortunately the oily nature is making me a tad nauseous.” She tapped her nose.
“Ahh, that’s fair. I’m sorry, I’ll keep that in mind.” At this, she stopped slicing the tofu to give him an incredulous look.
“And why’s that?”
He smirked at her. “Well I did promise to help you, didn’t I?” 
She turned back to her cooking, cheeks flushing. “You don’t actually have to follow through with that,” she mumbled. “You were tipsy when you said it anyways.” 
“Oh hush,” he waved her off as he took another bite of the fish. “You took care of us all those years in high-school. You��ve taken care of me for most of our lives. This is the least I can do for you.” 
“Well aren’t you chivalrous,” she teased, fiddling with a knob on the stove. 
He swallowed his mouthful of rice, “now, do you have a doctor in mind already or do I need to go search for one?” 
“Don’t worry, I’ll make an appointment after this is finished,” she promised, shooting him a look. He stood up, collecting his empty dishes and placed them in the sink. 
Looking at her ingredients, he sent her a cheeky smile. “Mind making me some too?” He picked up the second meal, neatly arranging it into a bento before he placed those dishes into the sink as well.
“Only because you took the couch and made me breakfast,” she replied, bumping his hip with hers. Kuroo sent her a sly grin, before heading back to the table to pull out his laptop. As she finished up her meal, she and Kuroo caught up on life. Prior to this, they hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Her phone was filled with unopened messages and missed calls from everyone but the person she wanted the most. She placed the bowl of miso soup beside him, glancing at his laptop. “What are you up to?” 
He tilted the screen back in response, revealing the web-page. “Just doing some pregnancy research, my dear (Name).” 
She thumped him on the forehead before she took a seat across from him. “You really don’t have to do that,” she reminded him. “I was already fully prepared for raising this child alone if it came down to it.” 
He glanced up from the screen, raising his eyebrow at her. Kuroo cleared his throat. “That may be the case, but you don’t have to go through the pregnancy alone.” Leaning forward, he ruffled her hair causing her to scowl at him. “I’m your best friend, (Name). Just let me help!” 
“Sure, sure, whatever you say Kuroo.” They sat in silence. Kuroo continued doing his research while she contemplated the implications of Kuroo’s promise.
Taglist: @toaster-stick @thatartsybitch @brazil-hinata @sawamooora @lastminaddition @anejuuuuoy @abby-rutledge20 @babybluebisexual @badboysdoitbetter2 @liathachcapricious @cosmiclunas @wishingforanother (If your name is bolded, I had trouble tagging you!) 
Please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💞
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rachaelswrites · 3 years
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Birthday Celebration
Spencer Reid x daughter!reader
Word Count: 1,257
Requested By: Anonymous
Okay so this is kinda a personal request but my birthday is on the 7th and I am turning 14. So can you pls do one with Reid daughter and the rest of the team planning her a birthday surprise or Reid and the team spoiling her for the whole day. :)
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Spencer had been planning this for months. Your fourteenth birthday was in two days and he was going all out. He put the team in charge of the actual party but he was in charge of the thing keeping you busy during the day.
The morning of your birthday, you went into the kitchen expecting your dad to be there. Instead, there was a small plate of pancakes and an orange sticky note next to it. It read “Meet me at the BAU”
You quickly ate the pancakes (which surprisingly weren’t burnt like always) and got ready.
You got to the office and looked for your dad. Everyone but him was at the round table, setting something up. JJ spotted you and closed the blinds in the window. You were about to go investigate when your dad stopped you.
“Y/n are you ready?”
You turned and looked at him, “Yeah,” you walked over to him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “What are they doing dad?”
“You’ll see later. Right now we have somewhere to be,”
Spencer was taking you on a scavenger hunt around the city. He hid clues in places that had a meaning to both of you. He would drive and you had to figure it out.
“Here’s your first clue,” he handed you a piece of paper.
You unfolded it and read, “This is the park where you saw a dog and for a full twenty-fours begged and begged for us to get one,” you thought for a moment before remembering, “Oh! It’s the one near our house. We use to go there all the time,”
Spencer started driving in the direction of the park, “What’s the name of it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have an eidetic memory like you dad,”
At the park, you looked around for what felt like hours, “Dad where is it? I’ve been looking forever,”
“It’s been five minutes. Stop whining,” he pointed to to your hand which had the clue in it, “Read it again,”
You read through it three more times until you understood. You looked around the park until you saw the exact spot you saw the dog, “Right there,” you pointed towards a bench about twenty feet away.
“I thought you didn’t have an eidetic memory,”
“Shut up,” you walked to the bench and found the next clue.
A few hours later, you were getting tired.
“We’re almost done Y/n I promise,” he handed you the next clue. It was a picture of you and him. It was taken on your fourth birthday. You read the clue out loud.
“This picture was taken ten years ago. Where was it taken?” You tried to remember but you couldn’t, “Dad just tell me, I’m tired and can’t think,”
“C’mon you know it. It was your favorite place. Keep thinking,”
You sighed and kept thinking but, it was over ten years ago, “Was it the Lincoln Memorial?”
“Yes! Good job,” he gave you a high five and drove to the memorial.
“I had to always hold onto you here. For some reason, you always wanted to climb on Lincoln,” your dad said, laughing.
“Really? Why?” You started climbing the steps, following your dad.
“I don’t know. You were a weird kid. Still are,”
You playfully punched his arm, “Wonder where I got that from,” once you reached the top, you found the next and final clue, “Go back to where it all started,” you faced your dad, “We started at the BAU so we have to go back there,”
Spencer nodded and started to speak, “Did I never tell you?”
“Tell me what?” 
Spencer put his hand on your shoulder and walked back down the stairs with you, “I found out I was going to be a dad at the BAU. Your mom called me and dropped the news. I didn’t know what to do,”
“You never told me that,” you looked up at your dad, “Do you wish she was here? With us,”
Spencer looked down at you, “I think we’re better on our own don’t you?”
You nodded as you got back in the car. Spencer got in after you and drove back to the BAU.
Once you arrived, Spencer covered your eyes with his hands and led you into the office, “Dad can you please just tell me what’s going on?” you whined. 
“Just wait a few more seconds ok,” he stopped and turned you towards him, “I’ll be right back. Keep your eyes closed,” he let go of you and made sure you covered your eyes before leaving. Spencer went and told the team that you were here as they were making their final preparations for your party. He came back and put his hands on your shoulders and led you to the room. 
“Can I open them now?” you asked. You were growing impatient now. 
You heard him open a door and gently push you in, “Now you can,” 
You moved your hands away from your face, just in time for the whole team to jump out from the chairs and table. Various shouts of “Surprise” and “Happy birthday” were heard, including a bunch of noise makers. 
The sudden noise startled you but, you quickly realized what was happening, "Thank you everyone,” you went around hugging each team member. 
“What do you want to do first. Cake or presents?” your dad asked. 
“Cake,” 
Emily was already handing you the knife to cut into the cake. 
Once everyone had their piece, everyone was seated around the table. Your dad sat down next to you, “Did you have fun today sweetheart?”
You nodded, “Especially the scavenger hunt. It was a lot of fun. Thank you,” you leaned up and kissed his cheek. 
“Are we ready for presents?” Garcia asked. Everyone nodded, “Open mine first Y/n,” she was bouncing on her toes so of course you had to open hers. 
It was wrapped in Garcia fashion, covered in rainbows and unicorns, “Oh my gosh! Thank you,” you stood up and hugged her. She had gotten you an assortment of mugs, matching her own. You were always jealous of her mugs. 
After you finished opening everyone’s presents, the activities from the day finally hit you. You had fallen asleep in your dad’s desk chair. 
“When was the last time that happened?” JJ joked. 
Spencer was helping clean up and he glanced over his shoulder at you, peacefully curled up in his chair, “Forever. She’d always do that when she was a kid and now? I can’t believe she’s fourteen,”
“The years go by don’t they?”
“Yeah,” Spencer finished throwing away the wrapping paper and turned to her, “I better get her home before she gets too comfortable,” 
“Well tell her goodbye for me ok?” She hugged Reid and he returned it. 
“Of course,” 
He walked over to you and gently shook you awake, “C’mon lets get you home,” 
You stood up groggily and rubbed your eyes, “M’kay. Did you get all my presents?” 
“Yes I did,” he could tell you were still half asleep, so he wrapped his arm around you to help you walk out of the building and into the car. 
“Thank you dad. This was the best birthday,” you mumbled as he helped you into the car. 
Spencer smiled and kissed the top of your head, “I love you so much Y/n. I don’t want you to forget that,”
“Mmm hmm. I know. I love you too,” it truly was, the best birthday you’ve ever had.
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@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @dudele @kerrswriting
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Breakable Heaven (pt. III) - p.l. dubois
Part I II
Here’s part III! One more part after this, then we’re going to be finishing up our time with Laurel and Pierre-Luc. It’s seriously been so so much fun writing this over the past few weeks, and I’m excited to get to keep the story going. Many many thanks to @hockeyboysiguess for being a great sounding board for Breakable Heaven so far, my favorite response of hers to anything I’ve sent has got to be “that’s rude.” So, enjoy! Reblog if you enjoy it, come scream into my inbox, and I still read every tag!
Part III
July 10 (sat)
Laurel was exhausted. Two hours after the wedding, her and her meager bridal party had shown up to her house, piling everything she hadn’t yet brought over to Pierre’s apartment into her SUV and Madeline’s white sedan. She left her old apartment with the keys at the front office and one last wistful look into the place that had once been her own. She’d miss it, she thought, as she and Pierre drove down the Ville-Marie Expressway towards his apartment, her fingers still trying to get used to the feeling of having rings on it. She’d only lived in the space for a year, but it was in that building that she started her dream job, that space that she adopted her dog, that apartment where she met one of her best friends and that place where she got married. 
They had spent a few hours half-heartedly unpacking her boxes; Laurel was excited to get settled in, but she was also the world’s worst procrastinator and even at 6 PM, all that she had managed to get done was folding some clothes and adding her book collection to the shelves in the living room. Pierre poked his head into the spare room — her room? — rolling his eyes when he saw her “progress.” “I was going to order in, what do you feel like?” 
Laurel hung up a blazer in the closet. “Pizza?” she asked hopefully. “Though I’m really going to have to teach you to cook one of these days. We can’t survive off of take-out and pasta alone.” 
“If that’s how you want to be,” he responded good-naturedly. “I’ll have you know that I can cook more than pasta, though.”
“Really?” Laurel asked, raising her eyebrows. “What’s the Chef Dubois specialty?” 
“I make a mean salmon,” he replied, before returning to the living room. That was another thing she had to get used to quickly as soon as they started going through the marriage process: Québec didn’t allow for women to take their husbands’ names at marriage. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought too deeply about, but Laurel supposed she’d always assumed that she’d take her husband’s name when she got married. But then again, she always assumed she’d get married under normal circumstances. Her parents aside, Cloquet wasn’t an absurdly conservative town, but it was still certainly something of an anomaly for a married woman to still have her maiden name. Which is what she was now. A married woman. Oh God. 
--
Pizza with white wine may not have been the most conventional choice, but it got the job done, Laurel thought as she lay in bed at half past midnight, the birds outside her door insisting on making her efforts to fall asleep as futile as her efforts to ignore them. She’d already been in bed for an hour; after dinner, her and Pierre watched a few episodes of Black Mirror — also probably not the best choice to do before bed, but oh well — before he wished her a good night’s sleep. She had taken a melatonin and drank a cup of tea before bed, put on a playlist full of rain noises, but nothing seemed to be working. Maybe it was because it was the first night in a new place, or the birds outside, or just the craziness and excitement of the day catching up to her. 
Laurel felt like a child again as she padded over to Pierre’s room, like she was five and back in Minnesota, crawling into her parents’ bed after hearing a wolf howl somewhere on the property. But really, she didn’t really care what she had to do if it meant she could get a good night’s rest. She knocked lightly on his door, careful not to wake up the dogs, who had long since fallen asleep in a corner of the living room. “Mmm?” he answered. She turned the doorknob. God, I hope I didn’t wake him up. She didn’t, as it would turn out; Pierre was propped up on his headboard, scrolling through his phone as he moved his eyes from his screen to her figure in the doorway. “You good? Everything okay?” 
Laurel shrugged, wiggling her hand. “I don’t know what it is, I tried everything but I’m just not able to get to sleep. I’d try and wait it out, but my sleep cycle will be thrown off for a week if I’m not able to get to bed tonight.”
He moved over from the middle, reaching over to the side of his bed and getting another pillow before throwing back the covers and patting the spot next to him. “C’mere.”
“Are you sure?” Laurel said, furrowing her brow, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was wearing an old t-shirt and panties, leaving very little to the imagination. 
He nodded, putting his phone down on the nightstand, smiling softly at her. “Of course. What’s mine is yours, eh?” That was all it took for Laurel to climb into the right side, claiming it as her own, and throw the duvet over her body. She fell asleep almost instantly. 
---
Laurel woke up to the unmistakable smell of bacon frying and the other side of the bed devoid of Pierre’s sleeping form. She straightened the bed before walking out, where she was greeted by two plates on the breakfast bar, a pot of coffee brewing, and her husband at the stove. 
“I thought you said you couldn’t cook?” Laurel teased, leaning up against the granite countertop. 
“Good morning to you too.” Pierre shrugged. “I hardly think being able to fry an egg and not burn toast qualifies as cooking, but I’ll take what I can get.”
Laurel stepped further into the kitchen, lightly dragging her fingers over his back in a silent thank you as she opened the cupboard. “Let me get the coffee, at least,” she said, grabbing two mugs off the shelf and the creamer out of the fridge. “How do you take yours?” Laurel asked, glancing at Pierre from the side as he buttered the toast. 
“A little bit of cream, more sugar,” he replied, sliding the plates onto the bar as she handed him his mug. “Perfect,” he said, smiling. A few minutes into breakfast, with Laurel just about to crunch into her second piece of toast, he spoke again. “So, I was thinking…”
She nodded. “I should hope so?”
Pierre laughed, ducking his head. “I was going to post something about the wedding today, online and stuff, but wanted to check with you first.” They had spoken about it once or twice before the wedding, both of them knew that it wasn’t practical nor honest to think that they’d be able to keep the news from everyone over the entire duration of their temporary marriage. And part of the “sell,” part of what she needed to prove, was that their relationship was real. And real would mean posting about each other online, real would mean flying down a few times a month — thank God her schedule gave her a long weekend, and thank God the flight wasn’t too long  — for games and galas and real would mean meeting his friends and him meeting her family and Laurel had to stop thinking about it all before her head exploded. 
“Go for it,” she said. “I don’t like having to hide from it any more than you do, so it’ll be a relief to let everyone know, give a heads-up to the four people on my Instagram page who actually care about my life. 
Pierre poked her arm. “Five, now.” He opened his phone, scrolling through the pictures Madeline had sent from yesterday. She had run a small side business doing photography in university, and insisted on taking their photos as a wedding present. “You deserve something beautiful to look back on,” she had said. The final book wouldn’t be done for a few weeks, but she had sent over the raw shots the night before. “What about this one?” He leaned over to show her. Their foreheads were touching, his arms wrapped around her waist as they stood in the middle of one of Vieux Port’s cobblestone side streets. Laurel’s fingers brushed the back of his neck, her other hand loosely holding her bouquet. If you didn’t know, they looked like a real couple. They looked like they were in love. 
“It’s gorgeous,” Laurel murmured softly. “I knew Madeline was talented, but wow. She outdid herself.”
Pierre nodded in agreement. “She did. I know I already told you, but you really did look incredible.” Laurel’s cheeks burned; she raised her mug to her lips, hopeful the oversized ceramic would cover enough of her face that he couldn’t see the effect his words had had on her. Laurel opened her own phone, scrolling through to find the matching photo. A few minutes later, he handed her his phone and she passed hers, giving their captions one last once-over before giving up their secret. Her eyes flitted across the screen.
Yesterday, I had the incredible fortune of marrying @laurel.klerken, the best person I’ve ever had the fortune of loving. I know it might come as a shock, and that we’ve kept our relationship under wraps since realizing after years of being friends that friendship just wasn’t enough any more, but this wasn’t a decision that either of us made lightly. Laurel, you’re an amazing woman, and even though it’s only been a day, an amazing wife. Whether it’s for your patients, your friends, or me, you make everyone around you feel warm, safe, and cared for beyond measure. You have a sharp wit and an even sharper mind, and I have endless admiration for how committed you are for standing up for what’s right, even when it’s not popular and even if it’s gotten you in trouble once or twice. Marriage is a partnership and a journey, and I’ve never been so excited to start a new adventure. 
Laurel sniffed, not even noticing the tears pricking her eyes until Pierre handed her a tissue. “Thanks,” she murmured. “You don’t think you’re laying it on a little thick, though?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Not at all.” One tap later, and it was posted. Three minutes later, his phone rang as they were doing the breakfast dishes. Cap ❤️ flashed across the screen. Pierre grimaced. “It’s the captain. I should probably answer this one,” he said, pressing the speaker button as he dried his hands on a spare towel. 
“You’re married,” Nick Foligno said, wasting no time. “Is this a fucking joke?” Laurel more than understood his apprehension, but the words still stung. 
“Yes I am,” Pierre said slowly, “and no, it’s not a joke. Laurel and I are legally married in the province of Québec.”
She could hear a labored breath from the other line, followed by an airy laugh. “What the hell, man?”
Nick was ultimately happy for them, and after being introduced to Laurel after they switched the call over to FaceTime he apologized for his reaction, but Laurel waved him off. “You’re just looking out for your boy is all. I’d do the same.” 
Nick nodded. “Take care of him for us, Laurel. Your address still the same?” He looked over towards Pierre, who hummed his assent. “Janelle and I will send you something. Something useful.”
---
July 28 (wed)
“Something useful” turned out to be a gorgeous set of Wüsthof knives and a stand mixer, the latter of which Laurel was nearly jumping out of her socks with excitement to try. Baking had long since been one of her favorite hobbies and her go-to method of stress relief; while she was grateful for the arm muscles her years of having to hand mix everything had given her, she wasn’t going to miss the extra effort. So Laurel Klerken was taking full advantage of her new toy. She had gone down to the Jean-Talon market in the morning, which was quickly becoming one of her favorite weekly activities. Especially with Pierre around to help her, she was learning to shift her speaking into the Québecois dialect, and her French was good enough to order from the vendors in their language and be understood. In her book, that was a win. The peak of summer meant it was berry season in Montréal, which meant it was time for Laurel to break out her nana’s blueberry oatmeal muffin recipe. And chocolate chip walnut cookies. And a French apple tart. Okay, so maybe she went a little bit overboard, but they had their desserts for the week and it made the kitchen smell so good. 
Pierre opened the door just as Laurel was pulling out the last pan of cookies, walking around the corner into the kitchen and raising his eyebrows at the view. She looked over at him. “You going to complain about your wife’s baking when you’re the primary beneficiary?” she asked, challenging him with a playful smile on his face. 
Pierre held his hands up in surrender, holding the mail between two fingers. “No.” He picked one of the cookies off of the cooling rack, taking a bite. “Definitely not.” 
Laurel nodded towards the mail, walking over to the sink to wash her hands. “What came in the mail?”
“Nothing much,” he said, shrugging. “Just a little letter from IRCC.”
Her eyes lit up. “Immigration finally got back? Did they send my card?”
Pierre nodded, handing her the envelope. It barely took five seconds for her to rip it open. “You, Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, are now officially a permanent resident of Canada. Congrats, babe.”
Laurel squeaked in excitement, dancing around in the kitchen , the holographic detailing on the card catching the glow of the late-afternoon light. She threw her arms around Pierre, giving him a kiss on the cheek that was just barely off to the side of his lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said breathlessly. 
“Don’t mention it.”
She pulled back, still smiling. “No, ‘don’t mention it’ is for when you bring home dinner without being asked, or take a drunk friend home from the bar. Not for things like this,” she said, wiggling her card. “This is everything to me, P. I get to stay in the city that I love, I get to stay at the job that I love. I get to —” She looked down, eyes widening. “I can finally get a health card!”
Pierre let out a laugh. “Out of everything, you’re most excited about that?” Being a dual citizen who lived in the U.S. for the better part of the year, Pierre understood the absolute chasm of accessibility that separated the American and Canadian health insurance systems better than most, but he still looked at his wife’s choice with incredulity. 
“Of course it is,” Laurel said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. She still had insurance purchased through her work, but the fact that now it was so much easier and official and came out of her taxes instead of having to try and navigate the bureaucratic system of forms and checks and private insurance companies made it so much easier. “It’s just nice to finally be a part of a system that acknowledges healthcare as the human right it is. That’s another thing about how it works in the U.S., it’s tied to employment a lot of the time so it’s not always a guarantee.” 
She gave a tense smile, leaning back against the counter. “I might seem a little worked up about it, but that’s because I am. Uh,” she paused, eyes flickering up towards the chrome-plated track lighting, “my dad lost his job when I was a kid. He was a foreman at a construction company, but then the recession hit in ‘08 and he was laid off.  We lost our insurance. Maggie and I were able to get on MinnesotaCare, which is the state insurance for low-income families, but our parents didn’t get approved. Not enough money to go around, I guess,” she scoffed. “Unemployment wasn’t paying enough and mom’s job isn’t full-time, so she doesn’t get benefits. Apparently they think healthcare is a benefit.” Laurel took another pause. “And then Dad had a stroke. It wasn’t serious, thank God, but the bills...Maggie was almost graduating high school and headed off to college, and money was tight even before the layoffs. We were able to come up with the money, but only because the community really came together, in a way I had never seen before. I still haven’t seen anything like it since. Bake sales, church fundraisers, garage sales.” The tiniest of smiles played on Laurel’s lips as she looked back up at her husband. “Do you know how much pasta Minnesotans can eat at a spaghetti dinner?” 
“A lot?”
“A whole hell of a lot,” Laurel confirmed. “But anyways. That’s when it became personal to me, and I think it’s why healthcare and access to quality care is still something that I’m still so passionate about and invested in. It’s why I became a nurse.”
Pierre walked over to her carefully, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “It makes absolute sense, Laurel. I know that probably wasn’t easy for you, so thank you for sharing. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to let me in like that.” Laurel wasn’t a cold person by any means; she was one of the kindest and most giving people Pierre had ever met, even in the few months that they’d known each other. But she was someone that could be guarded at times — for very good reason — and it meant the world to him that she was willing to let him chip away her hardened exterior little by little to see the brilliance that lay within. 
She pressed against his side, her head resting on his arm. “You’re my husband. Why wouldn’t I?”
 ---
 Laurel was in the ensuite of her and Pierre’s room, washing her face before going to bed, when she heard her phone vibrate with a text. After that first night, Laurel had made it a habit of sharing a bed; she’d never slept better in her life than the past two and a half weeks, and even though she may have been loath to admit it, waking up to an incredibly attractive man — who was shirtless half of the time — wasn’t something she was about to complain about. “Can you get that for me?” She was expecting a text from her mom, something about confirming her and her dad’s flight times for their visit next week. 
“Laurel?” Pierre called cautiously. 
She turned towards him, patting her face dry. “What? Did their gate get changed or something?”
He shook his head, walking towards her and holding the phone out like it was a bomb. “It’s Maggie.”
Laurel’s mouth immediately went dry. “M-Maggie?” She took the phone, staring at the screen, open to the text. 
“Do you want to talk to her? You don’t have to if you’re not feeling up to it,” Pierre said, searching her face for any semblance of apprehension. As far as he knew, she hadn’t talked to her sister in years, and he didn’t know why that was suddenly about to change. 
She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I just...I have no idea what she wants. Why, after three years, is she finally deciding that she wants to be a part of my life again?” She looked down at her phone. 
So, I had to hear it through the Cloquet grapevine that you got married?? What’s that about, L? Maggie wrote. Laurel pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. The gossip train in her hometown was second to none; to be honest, she was a little bit surprised it even took her older sister this long to hear about it. She was already enough of an anomaly. Less than a quarter of her city had a college degree, even fewer left the state to do it, so her going to Toronto for university was practically unfathomable — even if it was closer than Texas, where her second-choice school was. So, needless to say, she was a frequent headline in the Cloquet rumor mill. She had heard it all. That she had run off to Canada to escape a high school sweetheart turned sour, that she had cut off all ties with her family, that she had shaved half of her head and dyed her eyebrows bright pink. The last one actually had some truth to it, but it was just the eyebrows and she was a drunk 20-year-old, and at least she didn’t get a tattoo of the Maple Leafs logo on her thigh like her friend Ethan. 
But this one wasn’t a rumor, and if nothing else, Maggie deserved to know that much. Not much to say. It’s true, if that’s what you were wondering. 
Why didn’t you tell me? Why did I have to find out third-hand?
Laurel rolled her eyes, sitting down with a huff on the edge of their bed. Not to be harsh, Maggie, but it’s not like you’ve wanted to be that invested in my life since you left home. How was I supposed to know if this was even your number any more? I don’t even know what country you’re in right now. 
Her response was almost immediate. I’m working at a hostel in Tokyo. But seriously? I know we haven’t been super close the past few years, but I’m still your sister, and I would have thought you’d tell me about something like this. Getting married is big. You don’t think you’re still a little young? Have you even finished school yet?
I graduated last year, I’ve been working at a hospital in Montréal for over a year, Maggie. And I know it’s a little early, but Pierre-Luc and I are happy. I love him, and he’s a good man and respects the hell out of me. I don’t really need anything else. 
It was a few minutes before her next text came through, this time in all caps. YOU MARRIED A FUCKING NHLER? Laurel grew up knowing hockey, obviously; you couldn’t really live in Minnesota and not, and she wasn’t even a half-bad skater herself, but Maggie had always been the more dedicated of the sisters. She’d been the one who was always begging their dad to make the two-hour drive to St. Paul for a Wild game. Even when money was tight, Doug always found a way to scrape up enough for the tickets as her birthday present in January. 
Denise from church didn’t tell you?
All she said was that it was some hot French-Canadian guy, and mom said you moved to Quebec, so I thought it could be any number. Fair enough.
Denise seriously called him hot?
Laurel could imagine her sister rolling her eyes all the way in Japan. Okay, fine, she didn’t say hot. But like...am I wrong? 
For the first time in a long time, her sister made her laugh. Yeah, okay. He’s hot. I’m very aware that my husband is a class-A babe. 
“You think I’m hot?” Pierre said, peeking over her shoulder and wiggling his eyebrows. 
Laurel’s cheeks heated. “Yes, okay. I think you’re very attractive. Happy?” 
“Very,” he responded. “I’m glad my wife thinks I’m hot. The feeling’s mutual,” he said before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth, leaving her even more flustered than before. She turned back to her conversation with Maggie. My shift is about to start, so I’ve got to go. But I’m happy for you, L. I really am. You’ve done exactly what you want with your life, and I couldn’t be more proud. 
Laurel’s finger traced the words on the screen, a small smile on her face as Pierre came back into the room, throwing back the sheets. She plugged her phone into its charger, turning it face-down onto the nightstand. Things weren’t perfect between her and Maggie; far from it. One conversation over text wasn’t going to change that. But maybe, just maybe, there was still something there that was worth saving. After flicking off the lights, the last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of Pierre snaking his arm around her waist, pulling her to rest her back up against his chest. And Laurel let him. 
August 17 (tues 
It had been one of the worst days of Laurel’s life, and she wasn’t one for dramatics. Certainly the worst shift of her career. She knew when she chose to work in a pediatric intensive care unit, that it wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows. If she wanted sunshine and rainbows, she would have gone with something less taxing. Something like dermatology, or working in a pediatrician’s office, or being a school nurse. God knows she could hand out ice packs and tampons. But no, she had to pick critical care, and critical care with children, one of the most emotionally and mentally taxing areas in the entire healthcare field. She saw the highest highs, the incredible moments when a three-year-old girl with a brain hemorrhage was able to get home, or a twelve-year-old boy finally got a kidney transplant after having been waiting for years. She saw the highest highs, but on days like today, she also saw the lowest lows.  
Laurel carried her scrub top in one hand, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and tried desperately to regulate her breathing as she turned her key in the lock, pushing the door open. No matter how many times she had helped her patients breathe, she never seemed to be able to take her own advice. 
Pierre stood in the kitchen, making a smoothie, but immediately turned off the blender when he saw her face. “What happened?” he asked, gently taking her bag from her and placing it on the floor. 
Laurel collapsed into his arms almost instantly. “T-there was a little girl who c-came in yesterday from a car crash, and it was pretty b-bad, but she made it through the night and everyone thought she’d b-be fine,” she hiccuped, “but then right at the end of m-my shift she started coughing up b-blood and she was crashing, so I tried to do CPR until the t-team got there, but it didn’t work and we…” Laurel trailed off, sobbing, gripping the back of Pierre’s shirt like a lifeline. “We lost her, P. And the doctor on call was tied up with another patient, so I had to notify the family, and God, it was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do. She was only seven.” She looked down at her scrub top. “I have to go throw this in the washing machine before the stain sets.” 
Pierre pulled back slightly, gently taking the navy shirt from her, giving a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll do it. You need to rest. Take a shower, or a bath, get into some comfortable clothes. I’ll take care of dinner.” 
It was almost forty-five minutes later when Laurel finally emerged from the bathroom, clad in high school sweats and a faded Blue Jackets t-shirt. “I hope you didn’t mind that I took this one,” she said, picking at a loose thread on the bottom hem, “I hadn’t gotten to laundry yet this week.”
“It’s fine, Laur,” Pierre said, plating chicken stir-fry and rice. Cooking together had become one of their things; Pierre certainly wasn’t as hopeless as some people she had met, and he was right that he made an excellent salmon. But they couldn’t eat fish every day of the week, so Laurel broke out one of her few cookbooks and they had been making their way through the recipes together. They had finished breakfast and were making their way through poultry. Hence, chicken stir-fry. “You look better in it anyways.”
They ate in silence, her half-heartedly picking up forkfuls of rice only to put them down again. She smiled weakly at Pierre. “The food’s good, I swear. I just don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”
“I get that,” he said. “How about I put this in away in the fridge and you can get a yogurt or something? You don’t have to have a full meal, but you should eat something. We can watch something after, or you can go to bed if you’re not feeling up to it. Your call.”
“TV sounds nice, do you still have the old Parks & Rec recorded?” Laurel needed something she didn’t need to pay attention to, something that could just be background noise as she tried to sift through the emotions of her day and try to make sense of it all. 
He nodded. “Wouldn’t get rid of it before asking, I know how much you love it.”
They were curled up on the couch together a few minutes later, a striped blanket thrown over Laurel’s lap despite the weather outside still lingering in the mid 70s. It wasn’t for warmth, not really; it was for comfort. Pierre’s arm was slung over her back, his thumb absentmindedly moving across her upper arm. She leaned into his touch, hardly paying attention to the show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You don’t have to, but it might help.” He wasn’t an expert by any means, but Pierre obviously knew that people died in hospitals, in intensive care units even more so. Which meant that there was an almost surefire chance that she had had people die on her watch, die on her shift. Had children die on her watch. And that didn’t mean she was a bad nurse or a bad person, but just that sometimes there were illnesses and injuries so severe that even the best medical care in the province couldn’t save them. So why was this one impacting her so intensely? Had she reacted this way before, with Madeline or her coworkers, and he just hadn’t seen it before? Or was there something different about this case, about that girl that made it hit closer to home for some reason?
Laurel took a shaky breath. “I know you’re right, that it’s not healthy to keep it all bottled up inside. But that’s what I’m used to, you know? I love my job, I do, but you have to compartmentalize sometimes. With this one, it’s just…” She searched for the right words. “It was so immediate, so in front of me, that I didn’t have any time to reach beyond trying to save her life. I didn’t think, I just went based on instinct and training. And she still died.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Laurel,” Pierre said firmly. “You did everything you could, you did everything right.”
“I know that,” she sniffed, “but it’s so hard to believe sometimes. That if I had gotten there a few seconds sooner, or if the crash team had been a little earlier, she might have survived. And I wouldn’t have had to tell a mother and father that their daughter was dead.” Pierre felt terrible, like there was nothing he could do, because there was nothing he could do, not apart from sit and listen. “I think it was different this time because I finally saw myself in their shoes, I obviously don’t have kids, not yet, but I imagined what it was like to have to be on the receiving end of that news, and it tore me apart, P.” Her voice cracked, and his heart broke. “Being the mom to a beautiful child and then all of the sudden having them all of the sudden stripped away? No longer living? I know that life’s not fair, but fuck, I thought I thought it would be a little better than this.” 
Her voice went silent, and Pierre took the opportunity to speak. “It’s not fair, and I think part of what makes you so good at what you do is the fact that you recognize that. You’re so dedicated to giving everyone that comes through those doors the best care, because you genuinely believe that they deserve it. And that’s incredible. You don’t get complacent, you’re never satisfied with just doing things adequately and just enough to get by. You give everything 110%, and that’s how I know the kind of incredible person you are.” He paused. “And I think every parent worries about their kid getting sick, or getting hurt. I know mine did, and I’d be willing to bet yours were the same way. Worrying means you care. And you care the most deeply, the most genuinely, out of anyone I’ve ever met. And I know, when the time comes, that you’ll make an amazing mother. Whoever gets to do that with you will be a lucky man.”
“You really think so?”
Pierre slipped his hand into hers. “Positive.”
September 10 (fri)
Laurel’s fingers tapped nervously on the counter as she waited for Pierre to bring the last of his bags from the bedroom. He didn’t usually schlep a ton of things back-and-forth from Montréal to Columbus every time he needed to travel, but his ticket came with two free checked bags and if there was one thing Pierre-Luc Dubois was, it was efficient. It was the middle of September, and that meant training camps. That meant leaving Québec. That meant Ohio. That meant not seeing Pierre for weeks at a time, when the longest they had been apart since July was a two-day trip to Québec City Laurel took with her parents when they visited in August. Over the past two months, they had settled into a routine, and that routine was about to be broken. Grocery shopping, him washing the dishes while she dried, falling asleep together and waking up with legs tangled in the middle of the bed. She knew that he liked his coffee with a little bit of cream and more sugar, that Georgia got fussy if she wasn’t let out in the morning but Paul was more of a night owl, that dessert wasn’t supposed to be on his meal plan every day but that she could always get him to break for a slice of peach pie. He knew that she needed two Advil on the first day of her period because one just wouldn’t cut it, that her favorite Disney princess was Jasmine because of her independence, and that she liked to light lavender candles when she was stressed. 
Pierre wheeled a bag out of the doorway. “That the last one?” Laurel asked, passing Phil’s leash to him as she held Georgia’s. He nodded. She spun her keys around on her finger. “Got both of your passports?” 
Pierre patted his jacket pocket.  “Right here.” It was easier for him; he could skip the wait in both countries. Exit Canada with the Canadian, enter the U.S. with the American.
It was 2 and his flight wasn’t until 4:15, but Laurel didn’t trust the traffic and she didn’t trust the wait times at the airport. “Guess we should get going then.”
“Guess we should.” Laurel grabbed one bag and he got the other, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and wheeling it out the door. It only took twenty minutes to get to the airport. Laurel pulled up next to the curb, double-checking the signs to make sure she wasn’t about to get fined for stopping, and put the car into park. Pierre was the first to open his door, grabbing both the dogs; Laurel followed suit a moment later.
“You’ve got to pop the trunk, babe,” Pierre murmured. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 
“Oh, right,” she said, pressing the button on her key. It popped open with a telltale click; Pierre hefted out the black bag, she got the silver one. “Do you know how many people are going to have this exact bag? It’s going to be a nightmare at baggage claim, P” Laurel tried to joke. She always coped with humor. 
Pierre laughed, this time a real one. “Fair enough. Guess I’ve got a lot riding on my luggage tags,” he said, flicking one of the offending objects around the handle of the bag, the black one. Laurel handed him the other handle, their fingers brushing as he gripped the metal. He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head to look up at him. He could see the apprehension in her eyes. There were a lot of things that Laurel Klerken did well, really well, but lying was never one of them. She was always an open book. “Hey, don’t look so down, Laur,” he said softly. “I know you’ll be missing your personal space heater and Piper will miss her siblings, but you’re coming to visit in two weeks and it’s going to be amazing. I’ll introduce you to the boys and the other wives, you’ll get to catch one of the preseason games, finally see my place in Columbus. It might be weird being alone for a while, but —” He cut himself off. “Scratch that, it will be weird for a while, for both of us, but we’ll get through it. You’re a great person, and not a terrible wife either. People have done long-distance relationships that were longer distances for more time, and they made it through just fine. You’ll be okay, Laur. We’ll be okay.”
Laurel took an unsteady breath, trying her best to put on a brave face. “Not a terrible wife, huh? Well, you’re not half a bad husband either.” As she spoke, she was thinking over his words. How normal they sounded, but how abnormal that was for them. They weren’t a normal couple, all they really were were friends who got married — right? So why was he saying those things, things that made him seem like a real husband talking to his real wife, things that were making her feel that maybe, just maybe, this marriage wasn’t as much of a hoax as the thought it was? And it was only because of that, only because she was either reading way too much into a situation that wasn’t even there or was the premier of reading people’s body language and being able to parse out their unsaid words, that she did what she did next. She threw her arms around her husband, and she kissed him.
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silverwhiteraven · 3 years
Text
Wings of Broken White - Ch. 4
Tag List: @marichatmay
[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 3 ] [ Chapter 5 ]
[ Summary: Alya takes Marinette somewhere, and it turns cute. ]
Alya decided that Marinette wasn’t getting out enough despite the fact that they shouldn't be going anywhere when it was still late winter.
“Girl, you hardly go anywhere anyways unless it’s for someone else!” Alya argues as she dragged a snugly bundled Marinette down snow and salt dusted sidewalks.
“Hey, I went to the school’s Valentine’s party last month, that should count for something!”
Allya scoffed at the weak defense. “You were, like, a ninth-wheel, Marinette. Rose and Juleka, Nathaniel and Marc, Mylène and Ivan, Nino and I, we were the wheels on that bus. You on the other hand…” She trailed off to emphasize her point.
Marinette scoffed. “I think you missed a set of wheels, Als. Max and Kim were there. Chloé and Adrien showed up, too.” 
“Max was there sporting an Aro-pride flag pin and keeping Kim company,” Alya shot back. “They were just being single-wheels, together. And Adrien, with Chloé? More like she had kidnapped him to a secondary location! Adrien clearly wasn't the one to decide to show up. And remember the color coded cups? He was using the one for the ‘Single, just here to support my friends’ category. Just like Max, just like you. So my point still stands: You need to get out more often, just for yourself.”
Marinette sighed, relenting. “Fine, but next time, I get to decide where I go, so no more surprise trips.”
“Yesss,” Alya pumped her fist in the air victoriously, her wings spreading out, too. Marinette laughed and pushed her hand back down to her side while she dodged out of the way of one fairly the overexcited wing.
“Anyways, where are we going? You said something about, ‘You’re going to love it, my treat!’” Marinette quoted in an exaggerated mimic of Alya’s voice, causing both girls to burst into giggles.
“Just a café,” Alya says coyly, almost teasingly. It made Marinette squint in suspicion.
“It wouldn’t happen to be the same café you mentioned two weeks ago on the Ladyblog, right? The one they planned to theme after Paris’s new heroes?” Marinette asked, teasing her friend right back with her confident guess.
“You remembered! Yep, that’s the place! And it’s not just any regular themed café, either. It’s a cat café,”Alya revealed dramatically, while spreading her wings again to wrap them both in a mock cocoon of unnecessary but playful secrecy. Marinette balked.
“Wait, so you’re basically taking me to a ‘Chat Blanc emphasis-on-the-Chat’ Café?”
Alya snorted, pulling her wings back. “Yes, but it’s actually called ‘Hero Rescue Café’. They work together with the animal shelters around Paris, most of the cats they have are available for adoption. The profits are even donated back to those shelters to help keep the animals cared for. Isn’t that cool?”
“Mhm,” Marinette nodded along as Alya continued to rave excitedly and lead the way to their destination. I wonder if they’ll have any cats that look like Blanc? Probably not. Blue-eyed white cats were already popular, and no doubt are even more so now. Not that I could adopt a cat anyways, but it’s a niche thought. Wait, why is it a nice thought? It’s not like I like Chat Blanc or anything, no way! I don’t do crushes! Oh, who am I kidding? Marinette groaned in defeat to her own thoughts, making Alya stop talking and look at her.
“Something wrong, Marinette?”
“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, I was just thinking about how sad I’m going to be if I see a cat I really want to keep but can’t?”
Alya nodded in acceptance of the awkward excuse, and Marinette sighed in relief. I can never tell her about my crush- I’m scared to find out what kind of match-maker she would try to be. Or even worse, tell me I have no chance! I mean, I know I have no chance, but still, ow. Would Ladybug have a chance? Wait, she and I are the same person! If I don’t have a chance, neither does Ladybug! Hold on, why am I even thinking about this!?
“We’re here~!” Alya announced, breaking Marinette free once more from her internal chaos.
“Is that a cat in the window? There’s a cat in the window!” Marinette let herself get distracted by the café and Alya laughed.
“Duh there's a cat in the window, it’s a cat café, what else would be in the window?” She teased, but Marinette only laughed.
“Well I know that, but I can still be excited over a cat, can’t I?”
“Save it for when we go inside,” Alya winked, opening the door for them both. There was a second set of doors past the first, and Marinette realized that they did the smart thing and made an enclosed entryway.
“Oh, this is to keep the cats from dashing outside, like at a dog park,” she mused, making Alya chuckle.
“Yeah, and gives people a fur-free place to hang up their coats. Oh, look!” She added excitedly, pointing to the opposite wall from the hanger rod. There was something that almost looked like a long shawl or a barber cape. Marinette recognized it easily. “They have wing-covers for patrons to borrow, in case we don’t want the cat’s playing with our feathers. That’s so thoughtful. They really went all-out on this place.”
Marinette smiled and nodded in agreement as she slid off her jacket and hung it up. “It really is sweet of them. Are you going to use one?” Alya shook her head.
“Nope. My wing’s are tough, I can handle a few clingy kitties,” she declared with a proud smile, and Marinette only chuckled as she opened the next set of doors for them both.
Unsurprisingly, Marinette enjoyed the café. She spent a lot of time admiring their logo that was embedded in the resin coating of their tables. The stylized lettering was inspired by some of the animal-themed Akumas. Then the entire name was encircled by the white belt of Chat Blanc and the red and black yo-yo of Ladybug. Symbolic of two heroes saving those in need. They really thought this out. Maybe Ladybug should show her respect here some time.
Surprisingly, the café’s cats also enjoyed Marinette. Alya was convinced they had met every single cat in the building before they even got their drinks. Marinette was just embarrassed and spent a lot of time spreading her attention between each feline before shooing them all off towards other guests. One of the cats, sleek black with yellow-flecked green eyes, was too stubborn to leave, so she let him claim her lap indefinitely. 
But, completely unbelievably, the café got a surprise guest. Chat Blanc himself showed up out of the blue. Alya had spotted him running across a rooftop across the street, and proceeded to book it out the door, fly after him, and then shamelessly ask to take a photo of him with the cats that were inside the café inspired by him and his partner. He was stunned at first, but agreed, soon enough beaming happily as he surrounded himself with cats.
“Is he crying?” Marinette whispered to Alya as she recorded the feline hero sitting on the floor with at least five different cats climbing his back, shoulders, and into his lap.
“The happiest tears I’ve ever seen,” Alya confirmed.
Once Alya was satisfied she had taken enough pictures and video footage for the blog, she turned her focus to getting a few personal memorabilias.
“Mari! Come here! Take a pic of me with Chat, please? I want something for my desktop background, this would be perfect!”
Marinette agreed, to the annoyance of the cat in her lap. She managed to get the photo, a cute scene of Alya, her nerdy school friend, and Chat Blanc, her dorky friend-but-only-because-she’s-secretly-Ladybug, doing a silly pose with their arms linked, wings flared out, and several cats surrounding them.
She gave a thumbs up, and Alya whooped, standing to take back the phone. Marinette stepped forward, only for the clingy black cat from earlier to entangle himself with her ankles.
With a squawk, she went tumbling, but was deftly caught in the arms of Chat before she could meet an untimely end via a floor of cats.
Marinette flushed scarlet. Chat Blanc smiled shyly. The black cat jumped up on them, getting his lap-seat back. Alya, of course, got another photo.
All three of them managed to laugh it off, but not without Alya demanding another picture of the two and the cats before she would let them stand up.
“Marinette, I’m texting you copies to keep for yourself. Sorry, Chat, I’d send you some but-”
“No worries,” he chuckled and rubbed his neck, waving her concern away with his other hand. “Secret identity means secret number. You’ll be using your own pictures on your computer, though, right? Consider me honored by that,” he bowed dramatically and the two laughed as he straightened. “And Marinette, I’d be more than happy to let you do the same if you wanted, too,” he played the comment off with a wink.
“Time for me to go,” Chat Blanc continued before either girl could respond. “Chat out!”
They watched him dash out the doors and off over the rooftops.
“Girl...Did he just flirt with you?” Alya looked at Marinette, awestruck.
“What? No! There’s no way! Nope!” Marinette flustered and started walking out in a feeble attempt to escape the accusation.
“Uh-huh, because feeling ‘honored’ to be a screensaver for one girl and being ‘happy’ in case it were to happen by a second girl, is totally the same thing,” Alya followed after, determined to tease the life out of Marinette.
“Yes, exactly! Completely the same! It would have just been awkward to say the same line twice, so he just reworded himself, that's all! He was just giving permission to use his picture for personal use, nothing more, nope!”
Alya laughed before winking playfully. “Yeah, girl, sure. That was all, nothing more, nothing less. Whatever you say.”
“Thank you,” Marinette nodded in finality, ignoring the teasing sarcasm from her friend.
Later that day, Marinette saved one of the café photos as her phone’s background, making sure to put a completely different photo as her lockscreen to avoid any further notice or teasing about her and Chat Blanc.
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lokis-little-kitten · 3 years
Text
Teaching Assistant 11
He smiles at you and you then focus on class again since Loki is going over an important part of the book. 
When the class is over you and Dimitri leave right away instead of that you wait to go to Loki’s office. You feel a pang of sadness but the thought of staying with him tonight cheers you up. You also know you have to keep socializing. You can’t just be around Loki the whole time. 
After you impress the boys with your motorbike you leave to a pizza place where they desperately wanted to go to. There was some heavy rain last night and so the football field drowned. 
When you sit down Dimitri and Steve sit down next to you. The other boys shove some tables together ready have a good time. ‘’Who’s going to treat the lady this time,’’ Robert asks as he sits down in front of you. Every damn time you went out with them they paid for you. In the beginning, you tried to fight it but you have given up now. 
‘’I think it should be Steve,’’ Adam calls out with a large grin, ‘’he is the newbie after all!’’ Steve chuckles a bit and looks at you. ‘’Is this a thing?’’ You smile and him and nod awkwardly. ‘’Yes, one of them always pays out of ‘British Courtesy’,’’ you explain to him, ‘’if you don’t want you, you aren’t obligated to.’’ He smiles at you. 
‘’Well, I’m in Britain now so I don’t think I have a choice. Eat me broke,’’ he cheers and starts to get up with some other boys. They usually order in little groups just like now. So Steve walks up together with Adam, Robert and Tom. 
‘’So, how did the whole pay for the lady things come to be,’’ he asks Tom, a long chap. ‘’Well, we tell her it’s British courtesy but ehm… That’s a lie. Something is going on with her-’’ ‘’Anorexia, I know. She told me this afternoon.’’ Tom nods a bit and takes a step as the line moves along. 
‘’So when she just came out of the hospital she refused to eat with anyone present. If someone pays for her she feels guilty enough to at least eat quite something.’’ Steve nods a bit and glances over at her. ‘’I see.’’ 
‘’We might not see each other every day or text for hours but… she is part of the team and we love her. Therefore, we take care of her. And you’re a part of that now,’’ Robert explains further. ‘’I’m honoured.’’ 
A few minutes later Steve and the boys sit back down and another group of five leaves. Steve puts down your pizza and gives you a kind smile. You quickly snap a picture of the pizza and send it to Daddy. 
You get a text back from him almost immediately. 
Daddy Good girl. Send me a picture of you eating as well, dear. I’m proud of you. 
You smile brightly and send him a text back. ‘’Ooooh, someone is happy,’’ Tony gleams. You just stick out your tongue and lock your phone again. ‘’None of your business!’’ He laughs and takes a bite from his pizza. “Sure,” he winks at you. 
‘’Boys, what about a selfie,’’ you ask while getting your camera out. ‘’Yes,’’ Dimitri cheers. The boys make a pose while you turn around and snap a picture with your pizza. ‘’Thanks.’’ You curl up on the bench and send the picture to Loki. 
Daddy
Good girl. Good to see you have fun with your friends but they better keep their hands off. 
You smile and send him a text back before focussing in your friends again. Funny stories are shared just like laughter. After an hour or so Steve nudges your elbow with his. He gives you a slight sign towards your food with his head. You notice you had stopped eating after one or two pieces. You smile as a thank you and start eating again. 
After half an hour more you all leave to go home, or in your case Loki’s home.  You first stop by to get some of your things you’ll need and then leave for his home again. When you arrive you park your bike and get up to the penthouse. You first knock to see if he is home or not but you don’t get anything back so you guess not. 
So you get the key he gave you and unlock the door. You walk in immediately get attacked with kisses from Guardian. ‘’Hello, love,’’ you smile and hug the dog back. When it calms down it goes to lay down on his pillow. 
‘’Now what,’’ you mumble to yourself. He did tell you to or go take a nap or go watch telly. But what if you touch something you’re not supposed to… or break it! You end up getting stuck in anxiety and wait in the middle of the living room. 
When Loki finally comes back after another hour you look up and smile happily at him. ‘’Hello darling,’’ he smiles and speeds towards you throwing his briefcase in a corner. He hugs you close and kisses you sweetly. The moment you pull back you yawn loudly. Loki chuckles and kisses your forehead. 
‘’Did you take a nap,’’ he asks still smiling widely at the thought of your little body in his bed hopefully dreaming of him. ‘’No, Daddy,’’ you say truthfully. ‘’No,’’ he frowns, ‘’did you watch telly then?’’ You shake your head again and yawn once more. You now regret not taking that nap. 
Loki now seriously seems worried and cups your face. ‘’Why didn’t you do as you were told?’’ ‘’I was scared I would do something wrong, Daddy. I’m sorry!’’ You snuggle up with him and look up at him with large doe eyes. 
‘’Darling, you are always allowed to come here to take a nap or watch telly. I don’t care if I’m home or not. Keep the key and then whenever you need to go somewhere to take a nap or have a drink and you close here you are always welcome.’’ He smiles at you and kisses your nose. 
‘’Okay, Daddy.’’ He then suddenly picks you up and he carries you away. He walks you to the bedroom and puts you down on the bed. He goes to grab a shirt and walks back to you. He changes your clothes and forces you back into the bed. 
‘’Go take a nap and I’ll go make dinner. Okay, little one?’’ You shake your head heavily. ‘’I wanna help you cook!’’ ‘’No. Little girls need some extra sleep. I’ll pick you up again when dinner is ready.’’ You pout but then lay your head down on the perfectly soft pillow. ‘’Okay… Don’t eat without me again,’’ you warn him grabbing his hand. 
He sits down next to you and frowns. ‘’Is that why you want to help me cook? Are you scared Daddy will eat without you again?’’ You nod while your cheeks start to burn a little. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ Loki pulls you up from under the blankets onto his lap. 
‘’No need to say sorry. Little one, I know you have a really hard time with eating and if me eating before you scares you, Daddy understands. I’ll do my very best not to eat without you again, okay?’’ ‘’Thank you, Daddy.’’ ‘’Good girl,’’ he smiles and kisses your cheek. ‘’Think you can go to sleep now?’’ ‘’Yes, Daddy,’’ you yawn and crawl back into bed all by yourself. 
Loki tucks you in again and then leaves you be. He goes back to the kitchen and starts cooking dinner. It is finished but he still needs to put it on the plates and make the table when suddenly Guardian starts to bark at him rather alarmed. 
‘’Crap,’’ he mumbles to himself and rushes to the bedroom. He shakes you awake and starts calling your name trying not to sound alarmed. ‘’Babygirl, wake up darling. Come on Daddy is hungry and it’s dinner time!’’ 
You yawn as you open your eyes. ‘’Hello Daddy,’’ you yawn and smile sweetly at him. ‘’Hello lovey, time to get up.’’ Loki grabs you under your arms and lifts you from the bed. ‘’Come on, little one. Dinner time.’’ He grabs your hand and drags you along to the kitchen. 
You rub your eye and stumble along. ‘’Daddy, I’m tired,’’ you sulk at him. ‘’Well, you have been napping for half an hour and now it’s dinner time.’’ You groan again and climb on a stool at the least packed plate. Loki sits down as well and attacks his foot as if it could disappear at any moment. 
You eat a lot slower for obvious reasons. Loki eating as much and as quick as he does is kind of comforting for some strange reason. When Loki has enough he puts his plate in the dishwasher and sits with you while making jokes to help you relax a little. Not long before you finish eating the doorbell rings all of the sudden. 
You frown and look at Loki. ‘’Are you expecting,’’ you ask him nervously. ‘’No, go hide in my bedroom, love,’’ Loki tells you. Quickly you get up and run to his bedroom with Guardian on your heels. 
As Loki told you, you hide in his bedroom under the blankets of his bed. Guardian stays with you thinking that it’s some game you’re playing. 
Meanwhile, Loki walks to the door to look through the peephole. He smiles when he sees four guys knocking and waiting. ‘’Mate, we know you’re there open the damn door,’’ Evan yells at Loki while a grin. 
Loki does and let’s the four lads in. ‘’Well, what a surprise,’’ Loki chuckles and walks towards the frich to get some beers. ‘’Well, we haven’t seen ya in a few weeks now. It was time to have a fucking beer again,’’ Luke smiles grabbing a bottle from Loki. 
‘’No cussing,’’ Loki calls at them also getting a few bags of crisps. ‘’Why not,’’ Luke asks again. Loki just gives him a smirk and sits down with his own beer. ‘’But, lads, I was planning on inviting you over this weekend. I need to get all of the DDLG stuff in the playroom instead of what we have now.’’ The guys from a bit at this request. 
‘’Looking for a little are you,’’ James asks grabbing a bottle of his own. ‘’Something like that.’’ Loki gets up to go and get you with a knowing smirk leaving his friends in confusion. He walks to the bedroom and chuckles when he sees the bulge in the blankets. 
‘’Babygirl, it’s safe you can come out.’’ He smiles when you come out from under the covers with a slight hesitation. ‘’Are they gone,’’ you whisper carefully not to give away your presence. Loki just picks you up and puts you on his hip. 
‘’Daddy, what’s going on?’’ ‘’My mates are over, babe.’’ Loki has you put on a bra and jeans before picking you up. He carries you into the living room while all the guys turn to see who is talking to. They gasp and quickly walk towards you. ‘’You already have one,’’ James asks with large eyes. ‘’Yeah, by accident. I thought she was a slave but turns out she is a little. Aren’t you?’’ ‘’Yes Daddy.’’ 
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razorblade180 · 4 years
Text
Rumble
It was just another day in Vacou. Hot temperatures, clear skies, and Carmine getting into trouble. Ruby paced around her home on the phone with the girl’s teacher. The fifteen year old wasn’t where she was supposed to be. “What do you mean she hasn’t showed up for class again? Is she in the school at all?” Ruby tapped her foot like a rabbit. She loved her daughter but the amount of anxiety caused whenever Carmine went off somewhere alone was a thing Ruby would never shake. She didn’t need another Dustin. Nobody needed another Dustin. Though at this point, Carmine wouldn’t have the luxury that child was given. She would no doubt be dead. The thought made Ruby hang up the phone and dial Sun’s number.
“Yellow?” The cheeky man answered. “Carmine wouldn’t be with you by any chance? She’s not at school. I’m about to start looking around town.” She heard a bit of rummaging over the phone. The man was climbing a tree to get a vantage point of his surroundings. “Haven’t seen her, but you know Carmine. She’s probably sticking her nose into some crime to stop it. The police authorizing her to do citizens arrest and intervene with organized crime was probably the most chaotic decision.”
Ruby walked up stairs to peek in on Jaune putting Garnet down for a nap. “I’m heading out.” Jaune gave a thumbs up. “Godspeed.” Ruby gave him a kiss then dashed out the house. “Do you mind helping me out Sun? Vacou has too many nooks and crannies.”
“I think I have a better idea. Aero could speed things along.” Ruby’s face went through varying emotions. “Why isn’t he in school?” She asked. “He kept complaining about it. This gives me an excuse to put him to work though. The two of you together can cover Vacou in now time.” That was true. Vacou didn’t feel so big with help like his. “Can you put him on the phone?”
Sun looked around for his son. It was no surprise to see him on the roof. He was fortunately dressed already. The typical black combat boots with khaki cargo pants that had purplish sash around the waist that matched his shirt. His short brown hair was slicked back and he put on his black windbreaker. He turned his head to see Sun trying to get his attention.
“Yo! Ruby wants to talk to you, bird brain” Sun blinked and Aero was already hovering over him. His massive black and white condor wings spread out. Aero took the phone. “Let me guess,Carmine?” This wasn’t the first time he had to find the girl. Ruby sighed, “you guessed right. Do you know why she isn’t at school?” He had to think about it for a moment, then he had a pretty good idea why. “I could be wrong but there’s been talk about this back alley gang that’s been harassing students. Money, catcalling, forcing people to join, making those people get more people; the typical shtick. Carmine would definitely know about it.”
Great, Carmine was definitely doing something about that. Ruby picked up the pace. Gangs aren’t the worst thing to be dealing with. Vacou spawns Them constantly, but there are a few that are way too big and will take more than her. Carmine was good, but not untouchable. “Aero can you help me look for her and let me know what you find? I know you two are pretty fickle with each other but…”
“I’ll keep you posted. Not like I could refuse anyways.” He grunted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to make you all the pasta you can eat.” Ruby said as she hung up. Aero gave Sun back his phone. “I’m going to borrow your arm bracers. Back alley brawl, you know those go.” Sun gave him a nod and gave him the ones he already had on.They weren’t what he used to but these bracers were the best quality. “Your mother is going to kill you if you lose.” Aero chuckled nervously. Truer words had never been spoken. He gave his wings a good flap and shot off towards the rest of town. The wind from his take off nearly knocked Sun over. “I hope he finds her in high spirits.”
xxxx
“FOR THE LOVE OF GODS! SHE’S ONE GIRL!” Shouted a man with a greasy mullet, aviators, and a cobras tattoo on his arm. He had just watched another one of his men get their face punched into a brick wall by Carmine. “WHY IS SHE STILL STANDING!?”
A man grabbed Carmine from behind to restrain her while another ran at her from the front with a knife. Carmine kicked out with both legs to hit his chin, then flung her weight forward to flip her captor forward; landing on top of him. “Fight me yourself if you think I’m easy to beat, you rock band reject.” She looked around at the dozen upon dozens of brutes that laid on the ground, writhing in pain. “Clearly your men need help. More came rushing in from back alley doors and fire escapes. The quality of the people weren’t too bad. It was the quantity that was a pain in the ass. Carmine had to admit she came here unprepared and unexpectedly; on uniform day no less. Her clothes were soiled with dirt and blood. Some of it being her own.
A slow stream of it ran down her face and over her left eye while her left forearm was an unhealthy mix of red and purple from blocking pipes. Even her face was a bit bruised and bloodied by scratches. Carmine was confident she looked like a complete badass right now. It was the only pro in this situation that kept the pain in check. That and adrenaline. A schoolmate cowarded behind a city dumpster where Carmine ordered the boy to stay. He had been targeted by the gang and came to school scared out of his mind. He also was a little beat up. “You okay back there?”
“No!” He shouted. He poked out from his hiding spot. “Why’d I let you talk me into taking you here!? We’re gonna die!” Carmine could understand that mentality, but why her classmate had it after all the bodies she’s knocked to the ground was beyond her. Her appearance had to be the reason why. Carmine kept up the assault, roundhouse kicking two more guys and uppercutting some chick with green hair. Another girl came running at her with a knife aimed for her face. Carmine back stepped then grabbed the wrist of the opponent, flinging her into three more people. Carmine ran at the leader but was hit in the back with a bat and stumbled into another brute that gave her a meaty left hook she couldn’t see coming. Her body hit a brick wall. Having her weapons would be nice right now was all she could think about.
The one with the bat went in for another swing to the head. Carmine grit her teeth and blocked it with her already broken arm. “This will do.” She yanked him forward and head butted the weapon out of his hand. The bat was lighter than what she used to. Carmine kicked off the wall and swung it across the other brutes face, knocking him out cold. More came rushing in to dog pile her but Carmine was too quick. She weaved in between the bodies and had their ribs become acquainted with her new weapon. “I have to be honest with y’all, getting really close to just beating you within an inch of your life.” The threat was all too real and they could tell.
Some of them started approaching slower and with far more caution. They’d be damn if some kid was about to win. Their boss wouldn’t allow running away anyways. Carmine growled, getting annoyed by the herd mentality of weaklings. “If you know what’s best then stop hanging around schools and dealing to children if you know what’s good for you.” She vanished from their line of sight before appearing several feet closer with six more gang members face down on the ground. “Or we can keep roughing it? Either way works for me.” Carmine was really hoping to catch her breath. Her limbs felt heavy.
They kept advancing, step by step. The hard way it is. She felt bad for them really. From the moment Carmine entered the alleyway, they forfeited their right to leave quietly. She only gave them an out so they couldn’t say she didn’t. A twinge of excitement and anger crept onto her face in the form of a smile. Her red eyes shimmered eagerly. “Bring it on, fools.”
“Well look at that, a face of a predator in her element. You’re a real freak show, you know that?” Called Aero from above. Everyone looked up to the man with his phone out. He zoomed in on Carmine and took a picture for Ruby. “Your mom is searching for you. She’ll flip seeing you like this.” He already got a message from Ruby saying she was five minutes away. “Who the hell are you!” Cried the leader.
Carmine grimaced. “Aero…” she looked to her right to see the boy next to her while the others took a minute to notice he wasn’t in the sky anymore, gasping when they finally did. “I don’t need you here. I got this covered.” Aero looked Carmine up and down. “You look like shit. That’s not new though, but I’m here as a favor l. You may not need my help but that kid over there is the reason this is happening right? He looks like he’ll take all the help he can get.”
“I would!” He shouted. Carmine rolled her eyes and approached the group of gang members, her bat twirling in her hand. “Handle the small fry while I teach their leader a thing or two. If you think you can handle it.” A grunt ran at Carmine but was met with a wing slap across the face that sent them to the ground. Aero smiled and dashed towards another grunt, striking their face hard enough to break their nose and push a few more back. The leader got a good look at the young man. His heart sank when he realized both of these troublesome kids had a colored sash. The girl’s scarf and the fabric on the boy’s waist. To make it worse, the gray eyes and majestic wings. Started looking familiar. “You...live on the outskirts, to the north, right?”
Aero cracked his knuckles. “Oh, so you know who I am? Then you know today is the day your gang gets run into the ground. Don’t feel too bad though. Losing to a rival group is the natural order of things. Carmine, we have four minutes before your mom steals the show.” Carmine did nothing but rush past him with her bat at the ready. Words waste time after all. It was time for a beat down.
xxxx
Ruby darted around the tight corners of shabby buildings that hid all kinds of secrets. That photo really sent her into a panic. Being battered and bruised was nothing new to see. That was the sad part. Why couldn’t she go school for a full day for once! Ruby didn’t even care that Carmine was a C student. Yes her grade in math needed to go up next quarter and literature class may need work. But Ruby wasn’t going to hassle her about it! She just wanted her safe. “Carmine! Where are you!?” The area was dead quiet to the point it was unnerving. Ruby turned one more corner. “CARMINE?!”
“Hmm?” The girl heard her mother and turned around. There she stood, teary eyed and out of breath. All while Carmine sat on a pile knocked out goons. Her scarf pressed against her head to stop the bleeding. She bit her lip, feeling a little guilty now that she sees the worried look on her mom. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Just don’t hug me tight. My ribs took a beating, also my arm. Good chance I’m also concussed-” Ruby gently wrapped her arms around her.
“I’ll yell at you later. Just do me a favor and tell me the crazy shit you’ll do?” Carmine turned flushed and hugged her mother back. “You’re lucky everyone is knocked out. It would be embarrassing for common thugs to see this. Would you believe me if I said I had full intention on going to school. Then that guy over by the dump walked by all frazzled, hassling people out of fear. Protecting peers is part of being a good student, right?”
Ruby looked at the boy. Aero was helping him up. She didn’t know how many people he had to fight. There wasn’t a scratch on him but the bracers were riddled with fresh blood. He didn’t even look tired. Typical Aero, he’s a wild one. Forget silver eyes. That silver tongue and calm attitude was all the weapons he needed. It was still sweet of him to lend a helping hand. Ruby didn’t even have to pay him this time! Perhaps his parents got on him about such a thing. “I’m going to drop this guy off at school. I’d stick around but you know, fuck that noise. You can deal with paperwork work and authorities. I want that pasta with meat sauce by the way. Later Mrs Rose, Little Flower” He said to Carmine. He spread his wings and took off.
Carmine scowled at that nickname. “I can’t believe you sent him after me. Of all the people.” Ruby chuckled lightly, he’s the only one in all of Remnant who might completely enjoy your chaos.” Ruby had a point. For all the years they’ve known each other, Aero seemed to invite controversy. It was incredibly irritating. Why couldn’t he thrive off a peace like a normal person? “Wait, you promised him pasta?”
“Yep, your punishment is helping me cook for him.” Carmine looked at her arm. “Uh...one handed? Even with dad’s help I am going to need a cast.” Ruby shook her head. “Extreme choices require extreme punishments! Do your best!” The enthusiasm didn’t match just how cruel that statement was. Carmine held her head down and sighed, “Fine…he better like it, or I’ll stab him.” Ruby frowned. “This is why your friend bubble is as tiny as a soap sud.” Carmine’s jaw dropped. “Hey!”
xxxx
Carmine sat on the couch covered in bandages while Jaune wrapped her broken arm for the second time. Aero sat at their table comfortably eating pasta and tried to stop himself from choking out of laughter. “Amazing on the battlefield, stumbles in the kitchen. Oh the pitfalls of Carmine Arc-Rose never stop being entertaining.
“I will beat you with my ca-aaah!” Carmine winced. Jaune wasn’t pleased. “You’re pulling your stitches!” The three of them kept going back and forth while Ruby fed Garnet along with Sun and Ilia. “Why are they like this?” They all said silently as they ate. At least they had a reason to eat together. All in all, a pretty good day.
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clumsyclifford · 3 years
Text
i won’t forget you (but i may forget your name)
this is unforgivably stupid and entirely the fault of @reveriesofawriter​ who pointed out that because duke’s name was originally luke, if calum hadn’t changed his name, luke would’ve had to have been known as human luke. i have no explanation other than that. this is a gen fic i didn’t proofread it at all and all you need to know is that duke’s name is never changed to duke. the name luke is in this fic an obscene amount of times
i’m also so fucking sorry for giving this an actual title i really was just going to call it human luke but then i remembered this lyric from i’m ready by ajr so instead it’s being called that 
WITHOUT FURTHER ADO: the human luke fic aka five times someone called luke human luke and one time he did it to himself
read it here on ao3
-
“What’s his name?” Luke asks.
Calum smirks. “Luke.”
“What?”
“His name.”
“Yeah, that’s what I asked you for, dipshit.”
“And I’m telling you, dipshit, his name is Luke.”
Luke stares through the phone screen. “No it’s not.”
“It is.”
“But you’re going to change it, right? You’re not going to keep a dog named Luke when you already have a best friend named Luke?”
“Quick to assume you’re my best friend,” Calum says airily. “Not very fair to Michael, I’ve known him longer.”
“You’re going to rename the dog, right?” Luke repeats emphatically. 
Calum scrunches up his face. “But he looks like a Luke, Luke! It’s the perfect name for him.”
“We are in a band together!” Luke says, feeling vaguely hysterical and also kind of like this is some kind of fever dream, or possibly nightmare. “You see me every single day! You can’t just have a dog named Luke! You could rename him so easily!”
“But it’s about the vibes,” Calum says.
“Change the dog’s name, bro.”
“No, bro. The dog is Luke. You’ll just have to be Human Luke.”
“Absolutely the fuck not,” Luke says. “Under no circumstances are you calling me Human Luke. I was here first. The dog can be Dog Luke.”
“He’s already used to the name Luke, though,” Calum says, glancing off-screen at something. His features immediately soften, and he shifts for a moment, then sets his phone down. Luke frowns. When Calum’s face returns, it’s accompanied by a dog’s face.
Luke hates the dog on instinct, but he has to admit this soon-to-be-renamed Luke is super cute. His tiny snout takes up most of the screen, white with a black streak that climbs up onto his black head. He has a little beard, or whatever, tan fluff under his little cheeks and chin. Luke forces himself not to awww. This dog is causing problems.
“I’m already used to the name Luke,” Luke says, ignoring the way Calum is cooing over Dog Luke and kissing his adorable face.
“Yes, but it’s much easier to make you understand that you’re Human Luke than to make him have to learn a whole new name. Look at this face, Luke.” Calum brings the camera closer to Dog Luke’s snout. The dog’s deep black eyes stare innocently into it. “Just look at him. You wouldn’t deny this face his name, would you?”
“Easily,” Luke grumbles. “Easily I would. I am not being Human Luke.”
Calum gives him a look of sympathy. “Sorry, mate.”
Luke is not being Human Luke.
-
“So I went over to Calum’s house,” Ashton explains, “and Luke was just sat in the kitchen, and I was like, when the hell did you get a tiny dog?”
Everyone laughs, except Luke, who had momentarily zoned out only to be pulled back in by being mentioned by name. And they’re not even talking about him.
“Not Human Luke,” Calum adds, giggling. “My dog, Luke.”
“That must get confusing,” Elvis Duran says. “Having a dog named Luke and also a bandmate.”
“Yeah, you would think, wouldn’t you?” Luke puts in, shooting a glare to Calum, who’s decidedly ignoring him. “You would think maybe if you were in a band with a bloke called Luke you wouldn’t get a dog with the same name?”
Elvis chuckles, although Luke really hadn’t been joking. “So how do you guys tell them apart?” he asks, which is kind of rude. It’s not like Luke and Dog Luke look alike. “Or do you guys just say Luke and go with whichever one answers first?”
“Oh, we call Human Luke, well, Human Luke,” Ashton says, grinning at Luke’s put out expression. “He’s not a fan.”
“I maintain that I was here first!” Luke insists, as the entire studio breaks into laughs.
“Human Luke seems like it would work,” Elvis agrees. 
“Don’t get any ideas,” Luke says warningly. He says it like he’s joking so that he doesn’t get in trouble, but Elvis is grinning. “Yeah, the boys have begun their efforts to force me out of the band by bullying, but I won’t go down easy.”
“I don’t know,” Michael says thoughtfully. “He really doesn’t like being called Human Luke.”
“I’m the original Luke!”
Nobody will stop laughing long enough to let Luke defend himself any longer, and the interview moves on. 
-
Calum posts a picture of Luke and Dog Luke on Instagram. Luke gets no warning, hadn’t even known about the existence of the photo. It’s a really cute picture, a candid taken from earlier in the week, when Luke had come over to Calum’s place and they’d had a swim together. The photo shows Luke cradling Dog Luke, standing waist-deep in the pool, nose buried in Dog Luke’s neck. 
The caption reads: Luke and Human Luke, my two best friends <3 #cake.
Luke is going to kill Calum.
“You can’t just call me Human Luke!” Luke says when they’re in the studio later in the day. Calum smirks and says nothing.
“Move on,” Michael calls from the other end of the table, where he and Ashton have been plotting, heads together. “You’re already Human Luke. You can’t escape it. You may as well own it.”
“Never,” Luke says. “I’ll fight this until my dying day. And you,” he jabs a finger at Calum, “are the worst friend ever.”
“I called you my best friend!” Calum protests.
“If I was your best friend, you’d have changed your fucking dog’s name.”
“Think of it like this,” Calum says, placatingly. Luke already senses he won’t like what Calum is about to say. “You’re called Luke, and you’re cute. And he’s cute, so it makes sense to call him Luke.”
“But he,” Luke points out, forcefully, “is a dog.”
Calum shakes his head, like Luke’s entirely missing the point. From the other end of the table, Michael snorts. “Can you take the compliment, please? I’m making the best of a bad situation.”
“You’re living for this,” Luke accuses. “You fucking love this. You all love calling me Human Luke. Sadists, all of you. I’m getting a new band.”
“Good luck finding anyone else who will put up with you as much as we do,” Michael says. “We’ve been in the studio for an hour and all you’ll talk about is being called Human Luke.”
“Maybe you should write a song about it,” Ashton suggests. “Get your frustrations out.”
“Or you could just accept it,” Calum offers, slinging an arm over Luke’s shoulders. “It gives you character. Luke wishes he could have as much character as Human Luke has.”
“Worst friend on the planet,” Luke repeats.
-
Ashton FaceTimes while Luke is making dinner with Jack — not his decision, but Jack’s, determined that Luke learn to make at least something for himself, never mind that he can make scrambled eggs just fine, kind of, thank you very much — but they’ve just put the lasagna in the oven, so Luke picks up.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Ashton says, beaming. When Jack appears beside Luke, Ashton adds, “Jack, man, what’s up!”
“Just teaching this guy to cook,” Jack says good-naturedly. Luke passes his phone off to Jack so they can chat. “How are you, man? It’s been a minute.”
“I’m good,” Ashton says, grinning wide. “I’m good, yeah. Spent some time today with Luke and Calum, tried to get some writing done but Luke wouldn’t stop, like, trying to climb onto the couch and walking all over the pages and stuff. Eventually we just gave up and played with him.”
Jack’s face goes through several stages of confusion. “Uh, what?”
“Oh, obviously not Human Luke,” Ashton says, and Luke glances at Jack and sees sheer glee building itself on his face. “Calum’s dog, Luke.”
“Calum got a dog,” Jack repeats, a slow smile stretching the corners of his mouth out, “and named it Luke, and now my brother is Human Luke?”
“The dog was already called Luke,” Luke grumbles. “And don’t get any fucking ideas, you arse. If you call me Human Luke even once I will put all of your worst secrets on the internet.” He glares at Ashton. “See what you’ve done?”
Ashton doesn’t look even slightly regretful. “I can’t believe you don’t know about Luke,” he says to Jack. “He’s basically the only thing on Calum’s Instagram these days.”
“I don’t go on Instagram a lot,” Jack says. “You really call Luke Human Luke?”
“Enough of this!” Luke says loudly, wrenching his phone out of Jack’s hands. “I’m going to go catch up with Ashton, and you can call me when you need me to, like, whatever you need from me.”
“Have a good catch-up,” Jack bids him, smirking, as Luke leaves the kitchen. “Human Luke.”
“Twitter’s just begging to know about you bringing your teddy bear to uni!”
“Twitter doesn’t give a shit about me!” Jack calls back. “Tell them I’m only calling you Human Luke from now on!”
Ashton laughs. Luke gives him a piercing glare.
“You’re a shithead,” he declares. “You’re all shitheads. I need new friends. And a new family.”
“But you love us so much,” Ashton says, giggling. “You’re the only Human Luke I’ve got, buddy.”
“I will seriously hang up on you.”
Luke’s phone buzzes. He briefly swipes down from the top to read a text from Ben:
Ben Hemmings: YOUR BAND CALLS YOU HUMAN LUKE???????????
For fuck’s sake.
-
When Alex texts Luke asking if any of his band wants to grab a coffee this weekend, Luke is quick to accept. It’s been too long since he’s seen Alex, and they’re intersecting one weekend in L.A., so Luke sends out the invite to his bandmates.
On Saturday afternoon, Luke and Michael wander into a coffee shop somewhere in the mysteriously secluded part of downtown Los Angeles, eyes searching until they land on Alex and Jack.
“What’s going on?” Alex says, grinning and getting to his feet. He pulls Michael into a hug first, and then Luke. Jack does the same. “Feels like it’s been forever.”
“Well, you’ve been busy with Last Young Renegade, haven’t you?” Michael says as they all sit. “And we’ve got Youngblood coming out.”
“Yeah, suspiciously close release date you guys chose, there,” Jack says, narrowing his eyes playfully at Michael. “We know you’re, like, a million times more successful than us, but did you need to show us up like that?”
“Yeah,” Michael says. “We did, yeah.” He turns to Luke. “Wanna get us drinks?”
Luke stands. “What do you want?”
“Iced caramel coffee,” Michael says. “Honestly, Luke, you should know my coffee order by now, This is terrible for our image. We’re supposed to live in each other’s pockets.”
“Fuck you,” Luke argues. “It changes, like, every month.”
“Or maybe you’re just a terrible friend.”
Luke rolls his eyes and Alex and Jack chuckle, and he ambles over to the register to order for himself and Michael. 
When he returns to the table, Michael’s mid-story. Luke slides back into his seat and passes Michael’s drink to him, and Michael takes it without breaking in his narrative. “So Calum is wasted, and Luke — Human Luke, I mean — is basically passed out, almost, and I’m just trying to get Calum’s fucking door open. This bitch,” he jerks his chin at Luke, “is heavy.”
“I’m just tall!”
“I basically had to feel Calum up to get the key out of his pocket,” Michael says gravely. “But we got inside. And then Luke wouldn’t stop making noise, of course, because he was so excited to see us after we’d been out for hours. You wouldn’t think such a small dog could make such a racket, but there you are.”
“Oh, Luke!” Alex says excitedly, and Luke thinks, for a second, that Alex means him, but of course he doesn’t. Nobody does, these days. “I keep seeing him on Calum’s Instagram. He’s so fucking cute.”
“Absolutely adorable,” Michael agrees. 
“Did you just call Luke Human Luke?” Jack asks. Luke buries his face in his hands.
“Don’t even start,” he mutters. “They won’t stop.”
“That’s kinda hilarious,” Jack says. “Imagine if I got a dog and just called it Alex.”
“I wouldn’t blame you,” Alex says. “Alex is the best name ever.”
“Actually, if I was going to name it after anyone in the band, it’d be Alex, probably,” Jack concedes. “Zack’s kinda, like, too human. And Rian’s name is spelled weird, so obviously it couldn’t be that.”
“You have my blessing,” Alex tells him. “In fact, I dare you.”
“This isn’t a joke,” Luke says stubbornly. He takes a drink from his own iced coffee. “I’m being made into a mockery. I’m a serious musician.”
“So is Lil Dicky,” Jack points out, “and he’s called Lil Dicky. Like, on purpose. You could do way worse than Human Luke.”
“Human Luke would actually be a pretty sick rap name,” Alex says, laughing.
“It’s a futile effort, guys,” Michael says. “He’s dead set on being pissed off about it.”
“I’m the original Luke,” Luke says despondently. He’s said that so many times in the past couple of month he’s beginning to feel like a broken record. “I came first!”
“Aw, don’t worry,” Alex says, reaching over the table to pat Luke’s cheeks reassuringly. “You’ll always be plain old Luke to me.”
“Not me,” Jack says, smirking. “I’m calling you Human Luke now, for sure.”
“I’ll delete your number,” Luke threatens.
“You will not.”
Luke won’t — he’s not about to delete Jack Barakat’s number — but he sure wishes he could, just to make a statement.
-
Dog Luke is super cute. There’s no way around it.
It’s just, okay, his snout. It’s his snout! And his tiny paws, and his floppy little ears, and his soulful eyes. And, he can smile. He’s a dog who can smile, okay, how could you not find him just absolutely precious? Luke would challenge anyone to look at Dog Luke for five seconds and not fall immediately in love.
He and Calum are playing Fifa, but Calum’s just gone to the bathroom when Dog Luke stretches out. He’d been curled up, snoozing on the floor. Now he shakes himself out and pushes himself onto his hind legs, front paws on the couch, gazing at Luke.
Luke huffs. “Only ‘til Cal gets back.” He picks Dog Luke up and hugs him close to his chest. Dog Luke nuzzles his nose into Luke’s neck. Luke smiles despite himself. He actually loves this dog, whatever bitterness he might spread around. It’s impossible not to.
“Alright, let’s have a little chat, you and I,”  Luke decides, laying down and cuddling Dog Luke up in his arms. “I don’t hate you, you know. I just hate your owner. Calum’s a shithead. You’re alright. It’s not your fault you’re called Luke.”
Dog Luke squirms in Luke’s arms, and Luke drops a kiss on the top of his head. This seems to satisfy him, enough to stop him moving. “I bet it gets confusing for you, though, having me here?” Luke hums, scratching mindlessly behind Dog Luke’s ears. “That’s why I have to be Human Luke, because that doesn’t sound like Luke. You’re Luke. When we’re in the same room, anyway. I forgive you for that. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Or a new name. Or anything new, really.”
Dog Luke just sneezes. 
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Luke,” Luke says. “I’m Human Luke. I’ll go by Human Luke for you.”
“About fucking time!” Calum crows, and Luke, startled, jolts upright. Dog Luke loses his balance and Luke only just manages to catch him from falling off the couch. 
“What the fuck, Calum, a little fucking warning,” Luke says, heart still pounding from the shock. “Jesus Christ.”
“You just called yourself Human Luke!” Calum says triumphantly, crossing to the couch and taking Dog Luke in his arms. “Hi, cutie. Did Human Luke finally accept his name?”
“That was conditional,” Luke feels it necessary to add. “I just don’t want to confuse the dog.”
“Oh, absolutely.” Calum grins. “You’re so full of shit, Luke. Human Luke.”
“I wasn’t talking to you! That was for the dog!”
“You were talking to Luke,” Calum sing-songs, “and you agreed to be called Human Luke, and I won’t ever forget about it, and am going to absolutely tell that story next time we get asked about Luke in an interview.”
“I hate you,” Luke announces loudly. “I hate you, I hate you, you’re the worst friend ever and I hate you —”
Calum just hands Dog Luke back to Luke, and Luke can’t very well be scathing while he’s holding about fifteen pounds of pure sweetness.
“You’re perfect,” Luke informs Dog Luke. “I forgive you. I will never forgive Calum, but that’s something that you and I are going to have to move past if we’re going to be friends.”
Calum laughs. 
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