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script-nef · 3 years

Text

The Day | Kageyama Tobio

Category: fluff

2.4k words; 22/12/1996: A star is born

This is so late ;^; sorry baby AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

His hand reaches for his phone before it has a chance to belt out its usual alarm song, the one Kageyama hates so much. It’s overly rambunctious, uses way too many unnecessary instruments and the lyrics means nothing. Therefore making it quite perfect as an alarm.

A notification with your name greets him and a smile crawls up his face automatically. A tap reveals messages written in all caps with an abundance of gifs. Wiggling further into his blanket to retain heat against the winter air, he slowly reads through your texts and a soft warmth blooms from inside his chest.

The timestamp shows that you sent it at exactly midnight. He can see you on your phone, staring at the time until the second it became the 22nd. It was in the morning for you, he remembers, and you said you have an important meeting today. He wonders if it’s going well, since you stressed a lot about it, moaning “What if he doesn’t like it…” or “What if something goes wrong…” He tried his best to cheer you up but being halfway around the world makes it sort of difficult.

Starting off the day with your enthusiastic and endearing congratulations makes his birthday one of the most special days to him.

Kageyama's birthday didn't really mean anything before you came. It was the day he was born, sure, but that's more of his mother's effort than him. He appreciated gifts once he started getting them and the messages as well. But it was you who made him realise that it is a day to be celebrated.

"You don't know why people celebrate birthdays?" You asked him that after his first birthday party with all of his friends and acquaintances. Despite a lot of people thinking he's tactless, Kageyama does understand gratitude and when to keep quiet. Or at least he's getting better at it. That's why he waited until everyone had left, leaving only you and him in his apartment.

"It's just another day." A weak argument, he knew, but that's just what he felt. It's one day out of 365 per year.

Your lips pursed and a sudden panic washed over him, dousing him with the sudden realisation of what he said. You and everyone else spent time and effort to pull this up for him, and he's basically just said that it makes no difference to him. Kageyama can hear phantom squeaks as the vice around his heart clamped down hard, and he probably deserved it. Definitely deserved it.

Scratch his thinking of mastery over tact, he hadn't even gone over the first small hill.

You stood there, silent, and his fingers twitched in an impulse to gather your hands in his and apologise until he ran out of breath or things to say. Even that wasn't enough. Kageyama's mind raced to find words to explain his thoughts, to explain how appreciative he was of this party and how sorry he was for even saying that. Even thinking that.

But you beat him to the punch, stepping in front of him and leaning forward until your head dropped lightly against his chest. His hand immediately found your waist to stabilise you but the rest of his body was something akin to a statue, rock-solid and not even breathing.

He braced himself for the anger and lecture you were going to give. He most definitely deserved it, being so ungrateful and dismissive of your efforts. You could scream at him until you lost your voice and hit him as much as you wanted to and he wouldn't be able to say anything. You've never gotten angry or even raised your voice at him, but this was looking like the perfect opportunity for the first time.

Leave it to me to mess up my relationship on my birthday.

"Well, it is just another day." You mumbled, rubbing your forehead against his chest. That was not what he expected to come out of your mouth. “One out of 365, sometimes 366. But it’s so much more than that, to me at least.” You peered up at him, lips curled into a soft smile and he had to resist the urge to lean down.

“To others, it might mean nothing. Just the winter solstice. Or maybe an anniversary. Or the day a loved one passed away. Or the day they met their partner.” You stood on your tiptoes, even with him leaning down, head knocking gently against his. “But to me, it’s the day someone I love the most in my life came into the world.”

Soft puffs of breath were exhaled against his lips every time you spoke, your gentle voice kind and loving, so much so that he thought he could melt there and then.

“On this day, 20 years ago, a wonderful person was born. The best person I know. You were born to be loved, to love, to carve out your own path in life—and you did that, Mr Youngest-National-Team-Member! Look at where you are! You held onto your lifelong ambition of a volleyball player that started when you were just a little toddler, munching away on a volleyball with your barely-grown teeth. I have photos.” He blushed, regretting the day he showed you his childhood photo album. You laughed delightedly, and it was like bell chimes in his ear. “And now you sit at the top of the world, with everyone in awe of your strength and passion. You receive love and adoration all over the world for your accomplishments, for who you are, and I could not be more proud of you. And it’s all thanks to this day. To the one in a trillion chance that the universe decided to create you. “I know your birthdays never quite meant anything to you, and that’s okay. Just let us, all of your friends and families, show how much you mean to us. How much you mean to me. I love you so much, and I love this day because it’s the day the greatest gift in my life was created. That’s why I celebrate it. That’s why we all celebrate it.”

You finished off your speech with a boop on his nose, giggling at his starstruck face. “So happy birthday, Kageyama Tobio, wonderboy and a gift to humanity.”

He mulled over your words, digesting each and every one of them. And every single one of them was nothing but the complete truth from you, echoing from the bottom of your heart and overflowing with love. A soft and grateful smile slowly formed as he closed the distance between his lips and yours, a sensation similar to melting taking over his entire body as he drowned in this perfect moment.

All of his teammates wish him a happy birthday, which he replies with a soft “Thank you” before turning to practice. Some of them asked if he would take the day off, seeing as it’s his birthday after all. He could go out, enjoy the sights, eat some new food or try whatever catches his fancy. But he politely declined, saying there wasn’t much to do anyway. Mostly because you’re not by his side.

It’s a shame you’re not here, but he can’t do much about it. Neither can you. He’s currently halfway across the world and you have a work-life as well. You can’t just drop everything and fly for hours and hours just for him, no matter how bad he misses you. Kageyama is filled with jealousy and selfishness when it comes to you, but he doesn’t want to make you suffer for it. No, he’ll just have to make do with the loving, adorable messages you sent him and hopefully a call as soon as you’re available.

You fretted over the disappointment of not being present on his birthday for the first time since you started dating him, even when he said it was okay. It wasn’t really okay, because he wanted to spend the whole day with you, preferably lazing around on the bed with you tucked into his embrace, enjoying each other’s company with no one else.

“Did she wish you a happy birthday?” Hoshiumi pops up next to him and Kageyama nearly yelps in surprise. He was too deep in his thoughts and didn’t realise his surroundings. Instead, he quickly calms his heart and nods, showing him the multiple messages you sent him. Hoshiumi’s eyes skim over them and laughs, “Your girlfriend is cute!” and Kageyama can’t help but nod in earnest. You’re probably the cutest thing the world has the fortune of having. His teammates face crinkles and he realises he said it aloud. It doesn’t matter because it’s the truth. Hoshiumi’s face scrunches further.

Training is finished by lunch to let all of them have half a day off, even though most of them will just stay in the hotel. A plan forms in Kageyama’s head: to crawl back into his soft bed to video call you as soon as he can. He never experienced back-to-back meetings for hours but they sound like hell. Hopefully you can destress while talking to him and he’ll have something so keep him happy for the rest of the day. It’s a brilliant plan.

Which everyone promptly ruins by following him to his room.

He looks back at them, questions marks forming over his head as his shifting eyes silently ask “Can I help you?” and Hirugami answers with a smile indicating “Nope, go into your room. We’re not being suspicious at all.” Or something along those lines. Kageyama thinks he’s gotten better at reading facial expressions and social cues. He wonders if you would be proud of him.

A quick key swipe unlocks his door and pitch-black welcomes him. Which is weird since he left the curtains open when he left for training. The team shuffles in behind him and he then realises that they planned this, something like a surprise party. They did it for everyone else when it was their birthday. Do I… have to play along? He probably has to, since everyone went to the trouble of doing this.

The lights flicker on and Kageyama’s brows quirk at the sight. He expected the decorations and banners with balloons since that’s what happened at everyone else, but what he didn’t expect are the mountains of presents everywhere. Some of them reach to the ceilings and he can see at least 5 piles, all covered in various either Christmas or birthday wrappings.

He turns back to the team just in time for confetti and strings to fly into his face with an ensemble of pops and screams of “Happy birthday!!” A laugh escapes him and he feels joy bubbling through his insides.

“They’re all sent from your fans!” Nicholas indicates to the piles. “We had to sneak them in. So hard since there’s so many! Deve ser bom ser famoso.” Kageyama’s hands skim over some of them, overwhelmed by the amount and the thoughts. Everyone pats him on the head or gives him a slap on the back, teasing him about how nice it must be to receive so much. And it is. He’s so grateful for every single one of them, but the biggest thought in his head is how much better it would be if you’re here, by his side. He wants to run over to his laptop and connect to you, to show you the spectacle before him. He wants to open every single one of them with you.

“Ah, the cake is coming! Kageyama, cake, cake!” But maybe later, after he’s spent time with his teammates. You always said to show gratitude. Hoshumi drags him to the centre of the room while everyone stands behind.

Before he can ask what they’re doing, a small voice singing the birthday song travels down the hallway. Kageyama freezes instantly because he recognises the voice, and everyone else snickers at his reaction. His eyes fly over everyone, who just responds by either winking or smiling. A weird sensation takes over his body, like his heart is thudding in his mouth or somewhere in his throat, as the voice grows closer and closer.

A flicker of flame appears first past the doorway, followed by the cake. Your face pops in, smiling joyfully, and Kageyama swears his heart stops. His hands tremble by his side, lips quivering in disbelief and ecstasy because you’re here. In front of him.

“Happy birthday to you~” You stop in front of him, cake in your arms and nothing but adoration in your eyes. The team claps and cheers behind him, but he can barely hear them. All of his senses focus on you, standing less than a metre away from him after weeks of being apart.

He wants to hug you, crush you in his embrace and bury himself in your body, in your scent and your love. He wants to shower you with kisses and spill out his heart in the form of words, cover you with them until you fall from embarrassment. He wants this moment to be just you and him, away from everything in the world like his first birthday party.

But he just stands there, unable to do any of them, feeling his chest swell and his eyes sting. The outlines of his sight turn hazy and your exclamation of surprise isn’t enough to break him out of his stupor.

Your arms wrap around him, cake gone somewhere, and he nearly crumbles right then and there. A combination of his friends’ shouts of “Don’t cry!” and you faint giggles makes him laugh as well.

Kageyama thinks he must be a mess; rivulets of tears are flowing down his cheeks, ears red with embarrassment and small hiccups are the only things that come out of his mouth, rather than confessions of love and repetitions of thank you after you travelled all this way for him.

But he opens his eyes when you delicately wipe away all his tears, and he’s greeted with nothing but gentle fondness shining on your face, like you’re cherishing this moment to keep for the rest of your life. You grace him with another smile, leaning up to press a soft kiss onto his lips.

“Happy birthday, baby. The whole world is sending their love to you.”

#kageyama x reader #kageyama imagine #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#kageyama #kageyama tobio #fluff #insp: birthday #female reader

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crookswithbooks · 3 years

Text

Let’s Play A Game

Day Nine - Eddie has a cold and Richie assures him that he’s not going to die in typical Tozier fashion.

Eddie was going to die of hypothermia.

He was certain of it. He had checked his pulse and his temperature only about a million times that day and he had spent the last half hour researching symptoms. He had a runny nose, a fever, and he couldn’t stop shaking. When he called up Richie to say his goodbyes, he found not sympathy but instead amusement.

“You’re not going to die,” Richie assured him. A couple of minutes ago he had been lounging on his bed in preparation for reading some dirty magazines he had garnered from the convenience store, but this was much more interesting. “You probably just have a cold or something.”

“A cold is only the first step to hypothermia,” Eddie warned him gravely. He paced up and down his bedroom, wrapped in about a million layers. In the background, hot water was running for a bath. “First it’s a cold then you start to feel a slight tingle in your body and then your limbs have all fallen off. It’s a slippery slope, Richie! A slippery slope!”

“Fine, fine,” Richie said, rolling his eyes on the other end. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll come over there and together we’ll figure this out. This, which will probably be nothing. Because you’re not dying and you don’t have hypothermia.”

“Actually, denying hypothermia is a very common symptom of hypo—”

Richie hung up the line before he had to listen to another rant on the subject. He kicked the dirty magazines off his bed, going over to grab his shoes and coat. “Maybe another time, Jennifer’s boobs. Maybe another time.”

He slid off the bed and went to go assure his boyfriend that he was not going to die at the humble age of fifteen.

Richie’s hands were warm and Eddie reluctantly fell back into the embrace. There had been a solid five minutes in the beginning where he wouldn’t even let Richie get near him, but after the other boy had assured him that hypothermia was not contagious he suspiciously relented. Eddie let out a gentle sigh as Richie cuddled into the back of his neck, his arms clamped tightly around his middle.

“Okay,” he said, smiling softly. “I will admit, this is helping.”

“I told you.” Richie grinned triumphantly. “Tozier hugs make everything better.”

Eddie didn’t respond, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that said something was bothering him. Richie sighed, waiting for the inevitable. “I’m still pretty sure I have hypothermia though.”

“For the last time, if you had hypothermia, you would be dead right now,” Richie grumbled. “Though I could speed the process up if you don’t shut about it.” He playfully bit the other boy’s earlobe and Eddie shrieked, reaching back a hand to smack him.

“Not funny.”

“Eds, do you actually believe you have hypothermia?”

Eddie was silent for a moment. “No, I guess not. That doesn’t mean I can’t worry about it though.”

Richie pulled away, much to the disappointment of Eddie, and kneeled on the bed so that he was facing him. “Alright, I’ll prove it to you. Sit up.”

Eddie slowly uncurled from his roly-poly position and sat opposite him. “What are you going to do?”

Richie reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. “Give me your hand.”

Eddie raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Um, how about no? What are you going to do?”

“Do you trust me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Eddie. Edward. Eds. C’mon.”

Eddie rolled his eyes back to the ceiling, but eventually held out his hand. Richie grabbed it, turning it so that just his index finger was pointing out. He took a penny and carefully balanced it on top. Then he sat back and waited.

Eddie let a couple seconds go by before he asked, “Okay, so? I can balance a penny on my finger. What does this prove?”

“You’re not shivering,” Richie pointed out. Eddie paused as he realized this was true. “ It’s the first symptom of hypothermia. If you were shivering, the penny would have fallen.”

“So I’m not shivering,” Eddie scoffed. “That doesn’t prove anything. Maybe I’m in stage three.”

“I wasn’t finished. I’m going to ask you a couple of questions and I need you to answer me rapid fire, okay? How long have we been dating?”

“What are you talking about—”

“Rapid fire, remember?”

Eddie fixed him with a look. “Approximately one year now.”

“Specifically?”

“I don’t know…” Eddie racked his brain. “I guess nine months? Like, nine and a half maybe?”

“Good. What was the first nickname I was assigned when we started school?”

“Bucky Beaver? Because of your—”

“Big front teeth, whatever,” Richie cut him off, flushing. “Bad Question, okay. What is two times seven.”

“Fourteen.”

“What is the capitol of Argentina?”

“What—I don’t know!”

“Fair point,” Richie agreed. “I don’t know that either. That was a test though, and you passed!”

Eddie crossed his arms. Often he found himself annoyed with Richie’s antics but it was even worse now that he didn’t know what was going on. “What was the test? How fast can you piss off Eddie Kaspbrak?”

“You love me,” Richie said cheekily, booping his nose. Eddie smacked his hand away, flushing violently. “And no, that was not in fact the purpose of the test. You just evaded two more symptoms, confusion and memory loss.”

“Oh.” Despite himself, Eddie found that Richie’s game was working. He was calmer now, and though he still felt like crap he was starting to agree that the symptoms were far different from hypothermia. “What’s the next test?”

Richie beamed, happy that Eddie was on board now. He never minded helping his boyfriend out of a funk, but if he was going to do so he liked to do it in typical Trashmouth style. “It’s simple. I want you to say, ‘I love Richie Tozier.’”

Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes. “Right. How exactly is that relevant? I thought we already covered memory loss.”

“Just do it,” Richie demanded, waving a hand expectantly.

Eddie took a deep breath, leaning his head back. “I love Richie Tozier. There.” He was trying to glare at him, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. It was impossible sometimes to resist Richie’s ridiculousness. “Are you happy?”

Richie was. No matter how many times Eddie said it, he never got tired of hearing those words. “Yes. Almost.”

Richie clambered off the bed and grabbed a notebook and pen off the dresser. He threw them at Eddie, pushing up his glasses. “Now write it.”

“God Richie, how much self-validation do you need?”

Richie blushed, but kept his tone cocky as he said, “More than you could possibly know. Just write it, will you?”

Eddie sighed and made a show of dramatically flourishing the pen and setting them to paper, each stroke deliberate and elaborate. And Eddie said he was extra. When he was finished, he showed the paper to Richie, where in neat legible letters it read, I love Richie Tozier. “Does this do it for you? Do you want me to put a little kiss next to it as well?”

“Shut it. You’re just lashing out because you know it’s true.” Richie took the paper, shoving it in his pocket for later. Okay yeah, so maybe Richie was going to stare at the words for hours that evening, but could you really blame him? “The next two symptoms were slurred speech and fumbling hands. You just disproved both. Now there’s just one more test.”

“Just one?”

“Just the one. I need you to close your eyes for it, though.”

Instantly nerves flooded Eddie’s body and he crossed his arms protectively. “No way. How do I know you won’t do something weird?”

Richie held up one of his hands in mock salute. “I won’t do anything, I promise—Scout’s honor.”

Eddie bit his lip, thinking it over. Finally he relented, squeezing his eyes shut. For a couple minutes nothing happened and Eddie was almost worried that Richie had left him alone and this whole thing was some kind of stupid prank. “Are you going to do anything or—”

His next sentence broke off as hands slid under his shirt suddenly, sliding up the stretched skin of his back. He tensed, a deer frozen in headlights. He could feel the heat of Richie’s body as he slowly wrapped him in a hug, the form very familiar to him by now. Richie softly peppered kisses up his neck and paused inches away from his ear. A pleasant shudder ran down Eddie’s spine when Richie spoke, his breath sending miniature vibrations over his skin.

“How do you feel?”

Eddie was frozen. “Huh?”

“Wide awake? Like you’re never gonna sleep again?”

He did. In fact, Eddie had never felt more awake in his life. “Y-Yeah? I suppose. Why?”

“Then you just beat the last symptom—drowsiness.” Richie leaned down suddenly, blowing a raspberry against his neck and causing Eddie to shriek, shoving him off of him.

“Oh you asshole,” he growled, grabbing a pillow and beating the taller boy with it. Richie ducked, holding up a hand weakly to protect himself. “That was unfair and you know it. What happened to Scout’s honor?”

“I forgot to mention,” Richie said, seizing the pillow and launching his own attack. “I was never a Scout.”

“You dick—”

Richie only laughed and the night slowly devolved into pillow fights and madness.

Not that Eddie minded.

#it #it 2017 #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #reddie #twelve days of ficmas

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abused-sides · 4 years

Note

First of all, love your writing 💞 Second of all, if you are still taking asks (I saw a post where you mentioned it but idk), can you please write about virgil (I'm sorry he is just,,, so easy to project onto) being abused at home and the other sides find out about and confront him or something? Thanks 💕

Always taking asks and prompts <3 And lmao I literally named myself after Virgil, I’ll never complain about writing him and I’ll always understand being able to project the most onto him

I hope you don’t mind me doing the high school au! If you’d prefer a different setting, feel free to send another ask <3

Also thank you! You’re really sweet <3

Trigger warning: This au follows Virgil dealing with parental abuse.

More tws for: Scratches, bruises, underage drinking, yelling, passive aggression, manipulation from unsympathetic character

Logan:

It was a few months since Logan and Virgil finished their project together. Virgil expected to be slowly phased out of the group since he was no longer useful, but they didn’t seem to have those intentions. In fact, he was invited around more than ever, which... Surprised him, to say the least.

He stared at the sky as they walked. The sun was just barely starting towards the horizon, and a flock of birds flew overhead. His feet urged him to break off from Logan, to head towards his own home, but he ignored it. Roman and Remus had invited everyone over after school. Had invited him over.

“Virgil?”

He brought his gaze to Logan, looking at him questioningly.

“Isn’t it a little hot?” He nodded to Virgil’s thick hoodie. “I know some of the classrooms can be cold, but you’re sweating. I wouldn’t want you to overheat- It’s still a long walk.”

His face heated up and he looked away. “It’s not too bad,” he mumbled.

His wrist still ached from his mom’s hand clamped down as she dragged down the stairs the night before. It had been popping all day, and he knew the bruise had darkened over time.

Logan frowned deeply. “I don’t want to press, but... It’s really not safe.”

Virgil hesitated. Logan would be suspicious anyway if he didn’t, right? Why overheat at the same time?

He kept his gaze stubbornly forward as he shrugged his jacket off and threw it over his arm. Logan’s eyes trailed down the claw marks on his arm, to the purple and black ring around his wrist.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a cat?”

“No. Why?”

Why didn’t you lie?

“It doesn’t look like those have been treated. When we get to the brothers’, do you mind?”

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. “I don’t mind.”

Roman:

Patton fussed over Virgil’s arm when they got to the house, but Logan brushed him away and got Virgil fixed up. Afterwards, Virgil put his jacket back on, and it wasn’t mentioned again.

Close to two a.m., Remus staggered to his feet and flicked the t.v off. “Alright, everyone staying the night, come with me, the rest of you fuck off.”

Roman huffed. “Just because you got yourself drunk and can’t stay awake anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us need to crash early.”

Remus booped Roman’s nose. “You’d regret waking me up.”

He grinned. “If you pass out, I will be drawing on you. I’ve got the Sharpies ready.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “You will not, because if you wake me up-”

Roman smiled. “I’ll stay away.”

Remus pointed at Janus. “Aha! So you will be staying with me!”

He leaned in, but Janus covered Remus’ mouth. “Brush your teeth first.”

“I think I’m going to head out,” Patton giggled. “You know how my parents are.”

“Yeah, I have two tests tomorrow.” Logan downed the rest of his hard lemonade and tossed it in the trash. “Pat, I can walk you home.”

Remus fell into Janus’ lap and whistled. He grunted as Janus shoved him off.

“Virgil?” Roman looked to him. “Staying or going?”

He swallowed. “Uh, I can- I can stay, if that’s alright.”

Roman stood and shooed Janus off the couch. “You can sleep out here, if you want. Assuming Janus has made up his mind.”

Janus pointed at Roman with his free hand as Remus led him into his room. “Keep your fucking Sharpies to yourself.”

“Goodnight, guys!” Patton called as he followed Logan up the basement stairs.

“The couch shouldn’t be too uncomfortable, but if you need anything, you remember where my room is, right? Upstairs, it’s the one closest to the kitchen.”

Virgil nodded. “I remember.”

“Cool. Night, Virgil.”

“Night.”

Roman turned off the basement light as he left, swallowing Virgil in darkness. He settled back, pulled the blankets to his chin, and stared at the ceiling.

There were cracks in the ceiling. Muffled giggling floated through Remus’ closed door, the intro to one of the Saw movies playing quietly. His eyes watered, his chest tight.

What would his parents say when he got back? When would Virgil go home? He jumped at any chance the others gave him to stay the night. Sometimes he went weeks without going home. Sometimes his parents didn’t care, gave him a grunt of a greeting and told him of the leftovers in the fridge. Sometimes they yelled. Sometimes Virgil walked away with more bruises. He’d never be able to predict them.

He woke with a start, eyes wide. He blinked frantically as the room came back into focus. He fumbled for his phone and squinted at the bright light.

4:09 a.m.

He sighed and flopped back. Another movie played in Remus’ room, but their giggling and talking had stopped.

Exhaustion pulled Virgil’s eyes shut. He fell halfway into sleep before launching upright, scrambling to turn on his phone’s flashlight.

He tried several more times falling asleep, even a few with his flashlight still on, but each time he got close, his body insisted he wasn’t safe. He had resigned himself to staying that way through the night when the basement door opened, the light flicked on, and Roman came downstairs with his phone and a worried frown.

“Virgil?”

His heart hammered. “Shit, did I wake you up? I’m sorry-”

Roman shook his head and sat on the couch as Virgil folded his legs close. “No, I was awake. Remus texted me. What’s wrong, is the couch too uncomfortable?”

“No, I- It’s fine. I’m sorry, I...” He laughed a little, pushing his bangs back. “You didn’t need to come down here. I’m fine.”

Roman stared at him as he thought, eyebrows pinched. After an agonizing minute, he said, “If you can’t fall asleep, you can come with me. I’m just watching YouTube.”

He hesitated. “I don’t want to bother you.”

Roman shrugged. “I’m bored anyway.” He stood and gestured for Virgil to follow. “Come on.”

Virgil scrambled to follow, his footsteps silent. Virgil understood why he didn’t originally invite anyone to crash with him-- His bed was tiny. Still, he patted the spot beside him and allowed Virgil to cram in next to him.

He handed Virgil his T.V. remote. “You like those scary videos, right? The, uh... Like, the ‘real’ ones?”

“Nuke’s Top 10,” Virgil mumbled, thumb hesitating over the buttons. “What do you want to watch?”

“I’m good with whatever. All my usuals are boring right now.”

Virgil’s brain moved sluggishly before he thought ‘fuck it’ and put on one of the newer videos, before settling into bed. Roman pressed in behind him and rested his chin on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil fell asleep quickly. Roman’s warmth seeped into his back. He smelled like spices.

He startled awake around 5am.

“Virgil?” Roman grabbed his hips to keep him from falling off the bed, voice heavy with sleep. “Virgil, what’s wrong?”

Virgil gripped Roman’s hands as he fought to catch his breath. “I’m fine,” he panted. “I’m sorry, go back to sleep.”

“Nightmares?” Roman lazily ran a hand up and down Virgil’s arm as he settled down. “We didn’t have to put on those scary videos, you know.”

He shook his head. “That’s not why.”

Roman was silent for a while, to the point Virgil thought he’d fallen back asleep. Then he asked, “Are you safe?”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

“Are you safe?” He squeezed Virgil’s arm, below the scratches. “We’re not going to get an announcement about you during homeroom later this year, right?”

Virgil rolled his eyes and sighed. “Of course not,” he whispered. “I’m fine.”

He paused. “Alright. My parents won’t ever care if you need to stay here for a while. Just so you know.”

“I’m safe.” He pocketed that away for later.

Patton:

Patton gasped as Virgil walked into homeroom. He jumped out of his seat and ran over to take Virgil’s uninjured hand, leading him to their desks.

“What happened?” He stared at Virgil’s cast in horror.

“It’s not a big deal,” Virgil insisted. “It’s just a few fingers, they’ll heal.”

Patton grabbed his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Virgil. What happened?”

His eyes clouded with panic. He stumbled over his words for a minute before spitting out, “I- I accidentally shut them in the door, it’s fine.”

“Virgil... This isn’t like you. You’re not clumsy, you’re not...” He looked at Virgil with sad eyes. “Are you lying to me?”

Virgil wet his lips. “No. It was just an accident. Please don’t make a big deal out of it? Please?”

Patton rested a hand on the side of his face. Virgil leaned into his touch. “Sweetie, I... I need to make sure you’re okay. How do I know this isn’t just going to happen again?”

“It won’t,” he promised. “It won’t. I already fixed the problem, okay? It won’t happen again.”

Patton hesitated. “Okay.”

Remus and Janus:

“This is a stupid idea,” Janus grumbled as Remus dragged him down the sidewalk.

“Listen, everyone is freaking out, I think it’d calm them down to get some answers.”

“It’s fucking cold,” he complained.

Remus sighed and shrugged off his jacket. He held it out. “Better?”

Janus hid a smile as he pulled it on. “Yeah.”

Feeling a little stupid, Janus followed Remus’ lead and crouched as they got to Virgil’s house. They pressed themselves against the wall under one of the big windows.

“How long are we going to be doing this?” Janus whispered after a few minutes of nothing.

Remus shrugged and pulled a book out of his backpack. Janus gave him a flat look.

“You’re kidding.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What, you expected something to miraculously happen the second we arrived? We barge down the doors, carry Virgil out fireman style, and live happily ever after?”

“Of course not,” he hissed, “but what about-”

Remus pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Please?”

Janus’ face turned red. He wrapped the jacket tighter around him with a glare towards the road. “Fine.”

They sat in silence for hours. Remus read his book and Janus curled into his side, largely getting in the way but stopping his complaining.

“VIRGIL!”

They jumped, Janus’ heart lodging itself in his throat.

“VIRGIL, WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“Follow me,” Remus whispered.

Janus was too terrified to move, but he was more scared to be left alone, so he scrambled after as Remus circled to the back of the house. They situated themselves under the open kitchen window.

“I’m here,” Virgil said breathlessly. “I’m here.”

“Took you long enough,” a man sighed. “Why isn’t this emptied?”

A pause.

“Sorry, I’ll do that now.” The dishwasher creaked open.

“It should have been done hours ago.” The man’s voice was cheerful, upbeat. Janus’ skin crawled. “What happened to that?”

“It- It wasn’t done when I got home from school. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“You forgot.” The man chuckled. “And if we just forgot to make dinner for a few nights? To pay our rent a few months? Would that be okay?”

Virgil didn’t answer.

“Of course it wouldn’t!” The man snapped. “We all have shit to do, Virgil, and they have to get done.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Virgil’s voice was quiet, resigned.

“I wouldn’t have to fucking remind you all the time if you knew. What do we have to do to get it through your head? Your mother and I, we work so hard, and you can’t even unload the fucking dishwasher?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot.” Virgil’s voice came out thick, dishes clacking together quietly. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“This house is a fucking mess. Looks like you forgot to sweep, too. Do I even want to look in the bathrooms? What have you been doing?”

“I’m sorry, I was working on homework-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!”

Virgil sniffled. Remus gripped Janus’ hand hard enough to bruise.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get it all done, I promise.”

“Tonight,” the man snapped. “Before dinner, in fact.”

Janus frowned deeply. It was already close to eight.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have a problem with that?”

“Wh- No, no, I-”

“You wanna make that face again? Like a little toddler? When are you going to grow up, Virgil?”

Virgil started to answer, then cried out as something shattered. He gasped, grass crunching under a shoe.

The man’s voice came out low, so close to the window it took everything Janus had not to sprint away. “Clean this up. Don’t get blood on the carpet. Do your chores, and go to bed. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day.”

Janus peeked up at Remus as footsteps stormed away. Remus’ vicious glare only hardened as Virgil’s soft sobs drifted out the window.

xxx

His friends were quiet. It put Virgil on edge.

They were once again piled together in the brothers’ basement. Janus, instead of how he usually pretended to hate Remus- Something Virgil didn’t understand and didn’t think he ever would -sat curled up in Remus’ lap, ignoring the others stares as Remus ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his back. Patton was more touchy with Virgil than usual, more gentle. Like Virgil was a shattered plate held together with tape.

“Okay.” Roman shut off the T.V. “I can’t do this anymore. Virgil, we need to talk.”

He bristled. They’re sick of you. He pulled his hoodie on and shoved his phone in his pocket. He nodded, ready to leave.

“Remus and Janus overheard something,” Patton said, resting a hand on his knee. “You can’t lie to us and say they aren’t hurting you anymore.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Wh- What?”

“Your dad,” Janus mumbled, “last night. With the dishwasher.”

Fear washed over Virgil hard enough for sweat to bead on his forehead, stomach rolling with nausea. “He was having a bad night. It’s fine.”

“Virgil, this should have gotten stitches,” Patton said softly, one hand tapping close to the bandaid on Virgil’s hand.

“And no good dad does that on a ‘bad night,’“ Remus snapped.

“Remus,” Roman sighed. “Not helping.”

Patton’s eyes filled with tears. “We just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“That you survive until graduation,” Logan pointed out.

“You can trust us,” Patton insisted. “Please, you can be honest.”

Virgil’s bottom lip wobbled as he leaned into Patton’s side. Patton guided Virgil’s head to his shoulder and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Roman hurried over to cuddle into his other side.

“We know there’s not much we can do right now,” Janus said quietly, eyes on the ground. Remus kissed the side of his head, “but we can’t do anything if you don’t... Talk to us.”

“I know.” Virgil sniffled and buried his face in Patton’s shoulder. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah,” Roman whispered. “Yeah, we can put on another movie. Or- Logan, can you set up the Xbox? We can play something for a little bit.”

The six of them rotated through multiplayer games on the Xbox. Patton insisted on being Virgil’s partner each time, and when they waited their turn, he kept an arm around Virgil’s waist. He cuddled into Patton’s side, occasionally letting his eyes fall shut and his mind zone out.

Everyone stayed over in the brothers’ basement that night, crammed on the couch and piled on top of each other. The next day, things largely went back to normal, until after school where everyone jumped to invite Virgil over.

He laughed. “I can’t be four places at once.”

“I call him!” Patton kissed Virgil’s cheek and hugged him. “Try again tomorrow.”

Virgil blushed as Remus whined about Patton not being fair, Roman smacking the back of his head.

Virgil followed them all as they headed to Patton’s house, laughing and talking over each other. Virgil was pressed between Patton and Logan.

Virgil peeked at Logan from under his bangs while everyone was distracted. “Thank you.”

Logan smiled. “My pleasure.”

31 notes · View notes

atrashsith · 4 years

Note

little something with terra being confessed to and it leads to more

Confessions (Terra x Reader)

sorry it took me so long! I hope you do like it, contains smut :)

read it on AO3

“You can stop drooling over Terra now.”

A warmth crept up my neck and settled atop my cheeks. I clamped my hands over them before Aqua could tease me for the blush that I knew was giving away my embarrassment. “I’m not drooling, just… haven’t seen him in a while. He was away on a mission last time I visited.”

“Uh huh.” She placed her palms on the floor behind her, leaning her weight on them as her eyes flickered between Terra and I. “You know he likes you too, right? It’s pretty obvious.”

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as my eyes fell on his shirtless form teaching Ventus how to control his magic with his keyblade. With the tight black shirt he usually wears, one could say that it leaves little to nothing to the imagination, yet watching his back muscles flex without the poor excuse of a shirt was a whole another experience.

“Shouldn’t you two be training as well?” Master Eraqus commented as he stepped out of his office, Master Yen Sid trailing closely behind him.

“We were training, you just caught us during our break, Master.” Aqua quickly defended.

“We’ve been training harder than those two over there.”

“No, you haven’t!” Ventus whined as he jogged toward us. “You’ve been sitting in the same spot since the Masters left.”

I lifted my palm up to my mouth to hide my giggles as Aqua reached up to flick Ventus’ nose, then ruffled his hair despite his weak protests. Terra came up to stand beside me and shook his head at his best friends. He offered me his hand and I happily took it to stand up.

I stumbled as I got off the floor, and Terra quickly wrapped an arm around me before I could fall.

“Are you okay?” He grinned, his eyes crinkled at the corners. I nodded, relaxing in his arms as I looked up into his ocean blue eyes.

You know he likes you too, right?

“Terra?”

He tilted his head to the side in silent question.

“I…” But what if he doesn’t? “Nevermind.”

We were interrupted by Yen Sid calling my name, telling me we should be on our way. Master Eraqus insisted on having us for dinner, and that we could leave shortly after.

But the moment with Terra was over. I let my arms drop from his chest, where I leaned them against when he grabbed me from falling. I tried to take a step back, his arms wouldn’t let go of me.

“What is it? We could go outside to have some privacy.”

I glanced at the Masters that were still having a friendly banter over dinner, Ventus who watched them curiously, and Aqua who was grinning as she noticed Terra and I’s position.

Her eyes widened, probably having heard Terra’s suggestion, and motioned for me to say yes. Not that she had to insist much. I would’ve said yes regardless.

“I– Yeah, okay.”

He let go of my waist, instead grabbing my hand to pull me down the stairs toward the front doors of the castle, his shirt in his other hand. His huge steps made me have to almost run so I could keep up with him. Once we made it outside, the sky was turning an orange shade that meant it would be dark soon, and surely we’d spend the night at the Land of Departure.

The moon was bright in the sky even with the sun still not quite gone yet. The stars had yet to make an appearance, but they were the one thing that I loved about this world, the stars and how bright they would shine. Maybe it was because I got to watch them with the trio here, but they didn’t compare to the stars outside the Mysterious Tower.

Terra let go of my hand as he kept walking to slip his shirt over his head. Assuming he wanted to go to the summit to be as far away from the rest as possible, I silently followed after him.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” I started as we finally reached our destination and Terra stopped walking. “You’re making me nervous over here.”

He sat down near the edge, facing the castle. I settled beside him and pulled my legs up to my chest. We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, watching as the sun disappeared behind the castle and the stars began to shine.

“They say that every star up there is another world.” He murmured as he closed his eyes. “It’s hard to imagine that there are so many worlds out there.”

“One day, we will visit all of them.” I promised. “When Aqua, Ven, and you pass your exam.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“It’s only a couple of months away. At least there’s a point where you become a Keyblade Master. As a mage, I’ll always be studying and learning new spells.”

“At least I have someone to heal me in battle.” He winked.

I gasped and playfully smacked his shoulder. “Learn how to heal yourself! I’m sure in the heat of battle I’ll be worrying more about fending off enemies rather than healing you.”

He huffed as he laid back on the grass and closed his eyes. I couldn’t help myself from pushing strands of his dark hair away from his face. When he didn’t make a move to stop me, I kept brushing his hair with my fingers and gently rubbing his scalp. He let out a sigh so quiet I wouldn’t have heard had it not been for the complete silence that surrounded us.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m sure we didn’t walk all the way here just to talk about the stars. Come on, spill it before you fall asleep on me.” I started rubbing his temple with the back of my finger, moving down to his cheek as his eyes fluttered open.

“How can I not when you’re touching me like that?” He pouted when I moved toward the bridge of his nose. His eyes ended up closing again.

I booped the tip of his nose as I changed to rub the opposite cheek with my thumb. “You’re gonna get all itchy from laying on the grass.”

He suddenly grabbed my waist and pushed me to the ground. He straddled my thighs as he hovered over me, face inches away from mine. His toothy grin was so contagious that I could only smile right back at him. My eyes drifted down to his plump lips and, before I could stop myself, I lifted my head off the ground to push my lips against his.

A soft moan left my mouth when our lips met. We just stayed there, lips pressed together as neither of us moved. We breathed in each other until I went to pull back and Terra held the back of my neck, keeping me in place as we kissed. We slowly fell into rhythm and I held onto his sides, fisting his shirt tightly between my fingers.

Only pulling back to catch our breaths for a moment, we went from soft and passionate to desperate kisses. I slipped my hands under his shirt and kept them there pressed to his bare skin. He shivered against me and pulled away panting to press his forehead against mine.

“I really like you, Terra.”

He laughed, a roaring laugh that bounced off the mountains that surrounded us. He collapsed beside me. Clutching his stomach, he gasped out for air as he failed to contain his laughter. I propped myself on my elbows to stare at him until he decided to calm down. He even wiped a tear that managed to slip from his eye.

“I’d be extremely disappointed if you said you didn’t after that kiss.”

“Asshole.” I flicked his forehead. “I just… I didn’t think you liked me. Before that kiss, I mean. It’s pretty clear now that you return the feeling.”

“I do. I really like you, too. Probably since the day I met you.”

I felt tears brimming at the corners of my eyes so I just turned on my side to pull Terra back into a kiss, then another, and another. I bent my leg at the knee to rest it over his hip, and his hand landed on my thigh to keep it there as we pulled away and stared into each other’s eyes.

Terra’s nose bumped against mine as he searched for my lips, I happily met him in the middle. “To think that I would’ve been able to know what your lips tasted like a long time ago if I just confessed my feelings.”

I grinned as he rubbed his hand up and down the back of my thigh. “Let’s go, they’ll probably be worried about us.” He shook his head and pulled me to his chest as he laid on his back again. I huffed, but it was useless to try to move out of his grip.

My eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his lips on my temple, then he tilted my head up to press a kiss to my lips. I shifted in his arms until I had to pull away from him for a moment so I could straddle him. His hands flew to my hips when I was adjusting myself on his lap. I tilted my head to the side in fake innocence.

He closed his eyes, chest rising and falling slowly as he took a deep breath. I moved again, this time shifting forward to feel as his member was hardening even through the layers that separated us.

“Stop that.” He finally muttered, his grip on me tightening.

I moved my hips in a circle, enjoying the low moan that left his lips. I smirked. “Are you sure about that?”

“Aqua or Ventus will come looking for us soon.”

“Now you worry about them?” I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up so I could kiss him, then slipped my hands under it. His muscles flexed under my touch as my hands trailed up his chest, then dropped to his sides so I could take the hem between my fingers and he pulled away to practically rip it off his body.

He pushed me on my back and settled between my open legs, taking no time to hooking his index fingers on the loop of my shorts and pushing them down my legs impatiently. He touched me over my underwear, feeling the wet patch forming on it.

He raised an eyebrow, but I leaned up to kiss him before he shot a cocky comment my way. He melted into the kiss, heads tilting to deepen it and his tongue wasted no time in licking its way into my mouth. Taking advantage that he was getting relaxed, I wrapped my legs around his hips and pushed him off to flip us over again.

He stared up at me with parted lips when he landed on his back. He sat up with the intention to push me back on the grass, but I placed my arms around his neck and pressed my chest against his. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He groaned, head falling on the crook of my neck. “You’ll be the death of me.”

His exploring hands found themselves slipping inside my panties, fingers teasing my clit with featherlike touches. My lips parted when a single finger slid inside me, my inner walls slowly adjusting to the foreign touch.

“You like that, huh?” He kept pumping his finger slowly inside me until he decided to add another one and quicken his pace.

I held onto his broad shoulders as he scissored his fingers inside me, his name left my lips in soft moans. His thumb rubbed messy circles over my clit, and his free arm had to hold onto my waist to keep me from moving away from his touch.

I tilted my head to the side, to let him kiss my neck as he pleased. When he bit down right where my neck meets my shoulder, it went straight to my core. I let out a gasp when he started sucking on the same spot. His other hand had snuck into my shirt and under my bra, pushing it up until he came in contact with my breasts. He circled the hardened nubs with his index finger.

Overwhelming was the only word I could use to describe how I was feeling. Between his hand between my fingers, the other teasing my nipples, and his mouth leaving marks on my neck, it all made my abdomen tighten as I neared my high.

“Terra.” I held his bicep. “Terra, I’m-”

He hummed, his fingers shifting until I whined when he hit a certain spot inside me. His blue eyes darkened as he adjusted his arm to keep hitting it. He lifted his head and touched my cheek, urging me to look at him.

I stared into his eyes, unable to break the contact as my back arched into his touch and my inner walls spasmed around his fingers. He took his bottom lip into his mouth as he watched me convulse in his arms.

When I finally came down from my high, he crashed his lips against mine. I giggled and returned his kiss eagerly.

“My bedroom, now. I don’t care if the others hear us.”

#kingdom hearts #terra kh

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solastia · 5 years

Text

Faith | Epilogue

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 1,421

Warnings: Childbirth (not really that graphic), epic amounts of fluff

Note: Here it is, the end. I hope everyone enjoyed this story. I know I did. This is one of my favorite Namjoon’s that I’ve ever worked on because it basically just felt like him being himself. I may do drabbles for certain scenes in the future if people wanted them. Happy reading!

You groaned as another contraction rippled through you, banging your head against the lumpy hospital pillow in frustration. You were trying your best to hold on since Namjoon would be here any moment, but it was getting harder to do. Small hands wrapped themselves around one of yours, squeezing them comfortingly.

“This is why you should have married my daughter instead. She would never have made you wait this long.” Namjoon’s mother says playfully, though her eyes are filled with concern.

“He’ll be here, Mom. You know how New York traffic is. How’s Faith?”

“She’s fine. Keeps asking about you, but Kyungmin is keeping her well occupied in the waiting room. She’s watching cartoons on her tablet and one of the nurses gave her some “paperwork” to fill out for you because she wanted to help.”

“That’s my girl.”

The doctor at your feet snaps her gloves off and writes a few things down on her chart before turning to you with a smile.

“Alright, we are at a nine. Just about showtime. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m going to beat my giant husband to death for putting his giant child inside of me.”

“Is now a good time to mention Namjoon was ten pounds when he was born?” Mom chuckles dryly, patting your hand in comfort.

Oh, Jesus Christ. Of course he was.

“The epidural still working for you?” The doctor asked as a nurse took your vitals.

“For the most part. It’s not as painful as it was, but it’s still no walk in the park.”

“That sounds okay then. I don’t want you so out of it pushing is difficult. I’ll give you about five more minutes until I check again. Once we’re at ten, it’s time to push.”

You nod, deciding not to tell her that you felt like you could probably push at any moment. You needed to wait for your husband.

You stroke your massive stomach comfortingly as you wait, feeling little ripples as your body prepared itself. You were so much bigger with this one than you were with Faith. Frankly, you were terrified to see what your stomach was going to look like after this one was out. Still, it was worth it. It was all worth it.

You and Namjoon had married in the courthouse as soon as the paperwork was finished, with his family and your brother Alan as witnesses. The both of you had decided that although he could afford it, you didn’t want some huge event and have to wait to get married, so a quick thing like that was perfect. So naturally, when he had to go back to New York, you and Faith had gone with him. He sold the fancy apartment he’d been using and got you guys an actual house. You were a little frightened by what was going on in that head of his that made him think you guys needed eight bedrooms, however.

His parents followed soon after, deciding that New York was too far away when they had Faith to spoil and soon another one on the way. Namjoon’s sister was still in California, but she was talking about moving here too.

You had enjoyed your time working in daycare enough that you were now taking online classes to get an education degree. You were thinking that maybe you’d teach elementary school or something. Whatever you ended up doing, it was still more than you’d ever hoped to be able to do before.

Namjoon’s career continued to skyrocket, leading him to have an office full of awards and several number one hits. While you would, and have, loved Namjoon regardless of how much money he has, you had to admit it was nice. You no longer had to worry about rent or food, and you loved that your children were never going to have to want for anything.

Speaking of children, the moment that Namjoon had discovered you were pregnant he’d gone insane. You now had the most opulent nursery that you’d ever seen, with new items being purchased constantly. You didn’t even know what the baby was yet as you both had wanted it to be a surprise, but he still bought everything, saying you could save it for the next one if it didn’t get used. If he had his way, you would have been on bedrest from the moment he found out, but you’d gotten him to settle for carrying you around a little bit more than usual. Every day he was reading a new book, and you swore if you heard the phrase, “Hey, baby, did you know that...” one more time, you were going to strangle him in his sleep.

Suddenly, the door to your room banged open so hard you were afraid it might have broken, and your husband came barreling into the room looking freakily similar to an angry gorilla you once saw on tv. He rushed to your bed and inspected you from head to toe with wild eyes, leaning over to kiss you.

“Hey, baby. You okay? Are you hurting? What do you need?”

And just like that, your body relaxed (as much as it was able) and you directed him to sit on the bed near you, leaving the chair for Mom. You smiled gently, secretly amused over his panic. His Mom looked like she was fighting off laughter herself.

“I’m fine, now that you’re here. And you’re just in time because they’re coming out now.”

You hadn’t thought it possible, but his already wide and panicked eyes grew even more. “Right now?”

“Yup. Doctor, it’s time.”

She raised an eyebrow at you and sat at the foot of the bed.

“Alright, let’s see how it looks. Oh yeah, it’s go time. Nurse, if you please.”

After that, it was a flurry of movement at the bottom of your bed as they worked. Namjoon was still cradled against you on the bed, letting you squeeze the everloving hell out of his hand.

“You’re doing great, baby. So good. I love you so fucking much,” he murmured into your ear as he wiped your hair away from your gross sweaty head. His mom reached over to pat your shoulder a few times as a reminder that she was here to support you.

The labor was going so much faster than it had with Faith, just a few orders to push was all it took for you to feel that baby nearly out.

“And we have a head out, one more push guys!”

You clamped down on Namjoon’s hand as you pushed as hard as you could, breathing with relief as you felt it being pulled the rest of the way. Seconds later, the room was filled with angry crying as your child entered the world.

“It’s a boy! Congratulations,” the nurse smiled and handed him to you, letting you cradle him to your chest as you and Namjoon looked him over.

Your son was ugly as hell. Huge, wrinkled, covered in goop, but you still thought he was perfect. You could already see some of Namjoon’s features, but who he looked like more would clear up in a few days. You glance up at Namjoon and absolutely melt at the way he’s staring at his son with pure adoration and wonder.

“Hold him, daddy. The deal was you got to name him if it was a boy.”

You gently hand Namjoon your son, and the poor man cradles him with frightened eyes like he’s terrified of dropping him. After a few moments of observing the baby, like he didn’t have a list of names he’d been working on for months, he finally nods.

“Taeyoung.”

“That sounds good,” you grin, leaning over to boop your son’s nose. “Hi, Taeyoung. Mommy is going to call you Tae a lot because I’m not screaming ‘Taeyoung’ whenever I need you to clean your room.”

The nurse collects the baby to clean and take his vitals as the doctor completes her work on your downstairs.

“I love you. And I love our children. Thank you for my family,” Namjoon nuzzles into your neck, trying to hide the fact that he was crying. You and his mother share a look over his shoulder, smiling at how cute he was.

“I love you too, Joonie.”

You notice a nurse finally finishing up weighing your son and you just have to know.

“So, how much did he weigh?”

Namjoon’s head shoots up and he stares at the nurse, knowing his doom his upon him.

“Baby boy weighed eleven pounds, two ounces. Big boy.”

“Goddammit, Namjoon!”

“I’m sorry, I love you!”

- The End -

#bts #bts fanfic #bts scenario #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts fluff #bts fic #namjoon fic #namjoon x reader #Faith #solasita

289 notes · View notes

redrebecca · 5 years

Text

Reading Bug

One trip to the bookstore and Shawn catches the reading bug

Warning(s): Fluff fluff and more fluff

A/N: I’ve literally spent my whole day watching Brooklyn 99 instead of going out with my friends and i couldn’t be happier lmao. Anyway feedback is appreciated and have a nice day!

Words: 1.7k

Initially you thought it would be a good idea to take Shawn to the bookstore. It seemed romantic and cute when you imagined it in your head. But instead, only 5 minutes in, Shawn was slumped at one of the couches by the front door, scrolling through twitter, completely oblivious to all of the dirty looks he was getting off the usual visitors for using his phone in a library.

You, however, noticed. At first you tried to ignore it, after all he had told you several times he wasn’t a ‘huge fan of reading’ claiming that after a few pages the words start to mould into one endless sentence that made absolutely no sense. But after a few minutes you glanced from the blurb you were reading to where he was, you sighed as you saw that he was still in the same position, biting his thumb nail as he looked briefly at what fan pages had uploaded.

Slotting the book you had been occupied with earlier back in the correct section, you walked over to Shawn and folded your arms across your chest when you stopped in front of him.

He looked up when he felt someone’s presence. Shawn’s face broke into a grin when he the person was you, however his smile faltered when he noticed your stance.

“What’s wrong honey?” He questioned, utterly confused because anywhere with books was your happy place but at that moment you didn’t look particularly pleased.

You slid his phone out of his grasp and put it into the pocket in your jeans. “You,” you said booping his nose “need to get off your phone. Now c’mon” you said, turning on your heels and walking to your previous position, pleased with yourself as you heard him follow you in between the tall shelves. You heard him mutter “Yes mum”.

You quickly got back into the rhythm that you were in previously. See a book, read the blurb, put it back or keep it, repeat. You were well aware that Shawn was trailing after you down the rows like a lost puppy, he totally ignored the shelves full of novels and instead resorted to scuffing the sole of his boot on the carpet and playing with the strings of his hoodie.

A small ping came from your back pocket. You continued to scan the shelf but this finally got Shawn’s attention, his eyes trained on his phone as he began to walk towards you. However he was stopped in his tracks when you grabbed his wrist, a guilty look washed over his facial features.

“Don’t you dare” you warned before returning to scanning the shelves for a book your best friend had recommended earlier in the week.

You heard him sigh, “But babe I’m bored” he whined childishly, wrapping his arms around you and putting his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. You turned around in his hold. He groaned again as he was forced to remove his head from your neck, glaring at you playfully.

“Can we go ho-“ he whined even louder this time, causing you to clamp a hand over his mouth. When you were positive he had stopped speaking you removed it

“Shh, quieten down a little yeh?” you said, looking around nervously to see if anyone was sending you disapproving glares- thankfully no one was. You returned to look at Shawn just in time to see him mime zipping his lips and throwing away the key. You shook your head at his antics, your lips tugged up slightly which didn’t go unnoticed by Shawn.

“Why don’t you have a look around? Who knows you might even find a book you like” You jokingly gasped, covering your mouth with your hands dramatically. He rolled his eyes at your mocking behaviour, the smile still graced his face despite his best efforts.

“Fine” he murmured, using his hands to remove yours from in front of your lips so he could lean down and press a quick kiss to them before he wandered off, deeper into the library.

You were really surprised when he hadn’t returned in 10 minutes, you were shocked by 20 and were wondering if he had sneaked out and drove home when the clock indicated it had been 30 whole minutes. But of course you couldn’t phone or text him. The pressure of the piece of metal in your jeans reminded you that he wouldn’t pick up. So you continued to search the shelves.

You gasped slightly as you recognized the name on one of the books spines. You thought back to how much your friend gushed about the characters and well-written storyline of this one. Reaching up to slide the book from off the shelf. You squealed when you felt a hand grab yours and tug lightly.

“Oh my god I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m so sorry honey” rambled a familiar Canadian accent. You clutched at your chest to try and control your breathing. When you regained at least some control over your respiration, you looked back through the gap to meet the concerned eyes of your boyfriend.

“Please don’t ever do that again” You breathed, he nodded quickly at your request. “What were you gonna say?”

“Oh yeh! So I” he stopped mid-sentence making you raise your eyebrows, prompting him to continue. “Should I come to you because this,” he gestured to the small gap in which you were communicating through “Seems a little bit silly” You chuckled when you realized just how strange you would look if someone walked past, as it would appear as though you were having a conversation to the book filled shelves.

“Yeh, come here” you giggled. If you weren’t in a library you would’ve laughed loudly at the sight of Shawn speed walking around the corner and nearly knocking a display over whilst doing so. When he approached your eyes were drawn down to the large pile of books in his hands. He noticed how your gaze was entirely focused on what he was carrying.

“Babe look,” he said excitedly, rushing straight past you to place the books on a table. He grasped the one on the top of the pile pushing it towards you so you had no other option but to take it in your hands. “This one sounds so good and the reviews are all 5 star! And this one,” the second book from the pile was also thrust into your grip “was recommended to me by one of the volunteers. She said that because I love Harry Potter I would really like this.” He turned back to his pile and plucked the next book off the top, his eyes visibly brightened when he saw which one it was “Oooh and this one is about a musician who starts on the internet, just like I did! Isn’t that amazing?” You nodded, so shocked at his sudden interest in books that you couldn’t fathom a response to what he was saying.

Slowly but surely the books he piled on top of the ones you were holding grew and grew until you had to use your forehead to balance the ones at the top. When he finished explaining what the blurb hinted at about the plot, you managed to speak.

“Shawn sweetie, can you take some books off the pile I can’t see” came your muffled voice behind the huge stack you were supporting with your arms.

“Oh yeh, wow there’s a lot” he muttered, taking them from your hands with ease and placing the tower back on the table. “So which one should I get?” He said, hands on hips as he assessed his many choices.

You breathed out a confused chuckle “Are you not getting them all?” His head whipped round to where you were stood.

“Am I allowed?” He asked, like a child whose parent had finally said yes to getting ice cream.

“I don’t see why not. You never read and I can’t wait to have a book buddy” You replied with a cheeky grin, nudging his arm with your shoulder.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He exclaimed whilst showering you with kisses. You giggled pushing him back marginally.

“Let me get my book and we can go and pay” He nodded happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet as you rushed back to where the novel that your friend had recommended was and grabbed it. You helped Shawn carry some of his books to the counter.

After the two of you had had the usual argument over who pays- Shawn winning and smirking the entire drive back to your house- and had got home, Shawn took at least ten minutes deciding which book he was going to dive into first. Eventually he made you pick- he numbered the books 1-7 and made you choose a number- and you both got settled on the couch. You had emptied the basket of blankets and cushions you keep in the living room for movie nights onto the couch, so you and Shawn were cuddled close to each other, completely surrounded by them which created a warm and cosy atmosphere- perfect for reading.

“Wait a second” Shawn murmured before shuffling away from you and moving off the sofa. He headed to the carrier bag from the book store and quickly returned. As he sat down you noticed that he had something in his hand, not being able to see what it was until he had occupied the position he was in previously.

You laughed “Shawn why do you have glasses?” You threw your head back making him smile and pull you closer to him.

“I thought it might help me read more if I bought reading glasses” He tried to justify his reason for making such a pointless purchase. Which only made you laugh harder.

“Stop laughing I want to read” He joked, opening his book and pulling you into his side as you regained some of your composure, giggles still escaping every now and then.

About forty minutes later Shawn murmured “I guess you can say I’ve caught the reading bug” before leaning down and kissing your forehead, then your nose before finally planting a kiss on your lips. You hummed, nuzzling back into his chest “I’m glad you have”. He could feel your smile through his t-shirt.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn x you #shawn x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x reader

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itsblissfuloblivion · 5 years

Text

Glow

Did you know that the origins of Valentine's Day spin around the areas of martyrdom and ancient rulers of jolly old England? So Ginny finds out on a four day romantic vacation with their little family of four. A sequel to Kindle.

FFnet / Ao3

Cozy warmth greets Ginny as she shoves the door closed behind her, cheeks tingling as the chill slowly melts away. It’s been that awkward type of winter weather, where rain turns to sleet, winds beat against window panes, and Ginny wants to wrap herself in a heating blanket to never emerge.

But unless ‘heating blanket tester’ has now become a viable career option, her dreams are less than achievable. So she settles for work she loves and coming home to a cozy space heater of a husband. If anything to do with Harry being her husband can ever be called ‘settling.’

Shoulder knocking against the door as she wrestles dripping wellies from her feet, Ginny lets out a deep sigh and begins to let the stress of her day float off her shoulders. Tonight was pizza night, tomorrow was her first day off in nine days, and Harry’s rented the newest comic book hero whatever film.

All in all, her projected plans are the stuff of dreams and enough to give her the final burst of energy to wriggle her coat from her arms.

It’s only once she’s finished hanging the sodden wool to dry and tossed her scarf over its customary hook that Ginny really notices the odd silence hanging about the flat. With barking feet and tingling, wind chapped fingers, she picks her way through their little terrace house in search of her little trio of miscreants. “Ted? Harry?” she pauses, “James?”

A few more paces bring her just outside Harry’s study, golden light spilling from the half open door as Harry’s voice floats out in a low murmur. “And this is where Nana, Granddad, and Uncle Sirius lived - you’ve been there,” Ginny peers around the corner in time to see Harry shift to tickle James’ little belly, “Though James was just a little bean.”

Teddy nods, a careful finger tracing over the broad pages of the atlas, “I remember, the aeroplane.”

Smiling softly, Ginny tries to preserve the sight in her mind, all three boys splayed across the cozy rug they seem to prefer over any sofa she might find, socked feet kicked up behind them - with James’ barely clinging to his toes. After a moment, she fumbles for her mobile and takes a snapshot, forgetting the volume in her eagerness, and somehow manages to capture the image before all three startle at the noise.

Harry flips over onto his back, one elbow holding him up while his spectacles dangle precariously from his nose. And if that wasn’t adorable enough, James seems to take this as an invitation to climb atop his Dad’s belly like a ride at the carnival while Teddy struggles to shift the unwieldy atlas atop his legs.

“Hello, dear.”

“Hello, my loves,” Ginny says, tugging off her damp socks and tossing them aside before she claims a seat next to Teddy and lifts him onto her lap. Someday, soon, he’ll have grown too big to hold, but she’s not giving him up a day early.

She ruffles James’ already wild (and dangerously thick) hair, accepts a chaste kiss from Harry, and gives Teddy’s tummy a gentle squeeze. “How are my favorite blokes? Plotting an adventure?”

Teddy shares an eager look with Harry, who shakes his head almost imperceptibly and changes the topic with something just short of finesse, “We uh - I was showing the boys where I’ve gone on digs. And then where Mum and Dad and Sirius lived.”

“Potters are a globetrotting bunch,” Ginny agrees as Teddy wriggles in her lap, “Always up for a new escapade.”

Harry tenses when Teddy opens his mouth again, yet his jaw clamps shut as Harry clears his throat, “Speaking of - we’ve got the new superhero part whatever all ready in the den.”

Ginny narrows her eyes at Harry, who forces a look of innocence that wouldn’t fool Snuffles , and rises. “I’ll go order dinner. You three tidy up.”

Before long, their fresh sandwiches and steaming soups arrive and the little family is gathered around a scratched and well-loved kitchen table that’s held up many a meal and late writing session. Teddy’s dunking his grilled cheese with bacon and avocado into his tomato bisque when Harry nudges Ginny’s foot under the table.

She jolts a little, sending pureed veggies dripping down James’ cheek. He seems unaffected, in fact if anything the mess makes him more eager to eat the spoonful. Ginny mirrors his grin and taps his nose with a little ‘boop’ and then gives Harry her attention. “Yes, my love?”

“The boys and I - well I was. Valentine’s day is coming up.”

“So many poor sentences died in the making of that statement.”

Laughing, Harry swipes one of her crisps and bites down with a crunch. “Sorry.”

“Care to have another go?”

“I get that long weekend with my class schedule this semester.”

“Yes and it is glorious . I seem to recall a particularly lovely Friday morning romp…”

Teddy glances up and Harry’s real concerned they’ve just managed to prompt the birds and the bees chat about two years too early, but the little Lupin seems blissfully unaware. “Did ya ask Gin about the trip?”

Ginny smirks and Harry widens his eyes at Teddy. “Not yet.”

“What’s this trip?”

“So Valentine’s Day.”

Taking Ginny’s answering hum as invitation to continue, Harry blusters on, “Well the whole holiday is a bit odd - I mean did you know it’s actually based on pretty dark real life events?”

Her gaze darts toward Teddy, who’s raptly listening as Harry explains, but he waves her concern away and continues, “Ted’s fine. So the original, real St. Valentine was actually martyred way back when - ”

“Is that the technical term, Mr. Historian?”

“Hey, it’s Dr. Historian.”

Ginny’s eyes flash and Harry finds himself mentally calculating the hours until both boys will be asleep but eventually gets back on track. “Anyway, he was beheaded and then was named a saint. So all these churches and historical societies and whatnot say they have bits of him.”

“Still not seeing how this is age appropriate for Teddy Bear,” Ginny says with a quirked brow, but Teddy just grins, missing teeth creating an adorable little gap at the front of his smile, and bites into the second half of his sandwich with relish.

“And they’ve got his head in Winchester.”

“Are you asking me to take our boys to Winchester to see St. Valentine’s head,” she pauses to amend, “ alleged head - on our four day romantic holiday weekend?” Sheepish and looking almost boyish, Harry attempts a response, “What would happen if I say that I do?”

“I think,” Ginny’s face lights up with love, “That I would love you even more.”

“Brilliant, then start loving me,” he chuckles, eyes squeezed in delight.

“Patience is a virtue,” Ginny winks, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

And like any other virtue, Harry had to practice his a handful of hours before the night set in and both boys were peacefully snoozing in their beds.

“So,” Ginny rolls on her side, open palm on Harry’s chest, “Care to impart some more knowledge on that head of Saint Valentine bit from earlier?”

“You like it when I talk nerdy, huh?” He wiggles two ebony eyebrows, fingers sneaking to tickle his wife on her belly.

Laughing and batting his hands away, Ginny stretches her arms to steal his glasses. Adjusting the round specs over her nose, she requests in all seriousness, “Better start talking, Daddy.”

“Careful, Gin,” Harry’s eyes flash, his voice husky, hungry.

“To quote Beyonce, I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want,” she sticks her tongue out, palms moving under her head for comfort and a better view for a certain professor-doctor-archaeologist. “I’m listening,” Ginny giggles a moment later, snapping him out of his reverie.

“I swear they trained you in the area of light torture at that school of yours,” Harry shakes his head, gathering his lanky limbs under him as he shuffles to sit cross-legged on his side of the bed. “Where do I start? There’s the New Minster in Winchester, which was a royal Benedictine abbey founded in 901. Thing is, when they built it next to the original cathedral, also known by the name of Old Minster, the two buildings were so close to one another that the voices of the two choirs merged with chaotic results.”

“You’re a bit sad you weren’t there to witness that, aren’t you?” Ginny jokes, her feet gently landing in Harry’s lap as he traces their outline with his thumb.

“A bit. Now how familiar are you with Queen Emma of Normandy?” He plows on as Ginny waves her hand vaguely, a gesture meaning “not much” in the non-verbal thesaurus they’ve both adopted. “Well, Emma of Normandy was queen consort of England , Denmark and Norway. She was the daughter of Richard I, Duke of Normandy , and his second wife, Gunnora . Actually, through her marriages to Æthelred the Unready and Cnut the Great, she became the Queen Consort of England, Denmark, and Norway. She was the mother of three sons, King Edward the Confessor , Alfred Ætheling , and King Harthacnut , as well as two daughters, Goda of England , and Gunhilda of Denmark . She was one of the most politically active actors of the era, practically ruling England through the voices of her sons because, you know, people were still a tad paranoid and didn’t yet trust women.”

“Their loss.”

“You said it. So we already know Emma was politically involved and whatnot, but as important about her is the fact that she closely followed the tradition of Saint Helena. In short, this means that Emma was noted for her generosity to different churches and religious communities. On the topic, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle mentions that on the death of her son Harthacnut, Emma offered the head of St. Valentine to the New Minster Winchester for the benefit of his soul in 1041. But what it doesn’t mention is how she managed to get hold of a relic that was peacefully buried in Rome, pay to have it and then deliver it as an offering for her son’s death, and it drives me batty,” Harry groans in heavy academically induced frustration.

“Aw, poor baby,” Ginny comforts him, tugging at his hands so he falls over her.

“Not that I care when I’m this close to you, but during the English Civil War, the remains of Cnut’s line were disinterred and scattered about the Cathedral floor by parliamentary forces,” Harry breathes as he nips at her jaw.

“What a mess,” she exhales, rapidly losing track of what they were discussing when his palms roam over a place or two they both know she likes.

Harry hums and lightly bites at her earlobe. “Mhm, they knew how to make a good mess back in the day.”

Ginny’s fingers tighten at his shoulders and she grumbles. “Stop teasing and let’s start making our own mess.”

“Gladly,” Harry says with a chuckle, drawing the covers over them both.

After much arranging of schedules, booking of train tickets, packing and repacking, the little family of four trundles off to Winchester. Light rain patters against the windows, only occasional spears of sunlight piercing through the grey cloud cover.

James is dozing against Harry’s shoulder, his chubby cheeks flushed red and his inky shock of hair a peaked riot over his forehead.

Teddy, meanwhile, has his nose pressed to the window pane, grey-blue eyes darting to examine every hill, cottage, and what have you that passes.

With a contented sigh, Ginny lets her head droop against Harry’s shoulder, her fingers stretching to smooth along Teddy’s straining back. “I might have a kip.”

“You should, because once we’re in Winchester I have plans to keep you busy,” Harry agrees.

Chuckling, Ginny nuzzles closer to Harry and murmurs, “You know that’s a lot less sensual than the casual observer would guess.”

“I dunno, carefully preserved decapitated heads of saints are pretty hot.”

“Keeping your proclivities quiet until I’m too invested to jump ship - not cool, Potter.”

“Go to sleep, Weasley-Potter,” Harry shoots back, pressing a kiss to Ginny’s hairline and slumping a bit on the bench, “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Before long, the steady rumble of the train lulls Ginny to sleep, Harry’s well-loved woolen jumper comfortingly familiar against her cheek and James’ little puffs of breath slow and even. After what feels like mere minutes, she’s jostled awake by the slowing pace of the train and Teddy’s insistent tugging at her sleeve. “We’re here .”

Ginny pinches the tip of his nose. “Thanks, Teddy Bear.”

He rolls his eyes at the nickname, an echo of his arguments that he’s much too old for such a baby-ish title, but the flush on his cheeks and suppressed smile assure Ginny she can get a bit more use out of it.

James woke at some point during her sleep, though Harry’s expertise in keeping children busy and quiet - forged in the fire of his PhD - prevented the youngest Potter from waking her. He pauses his faux automobile noises and halts the little yellow and red dump truck halfway across Harry’s forehead and makes a noise he seems to use when he’s attempting to get Ginny’s attention. In reality it’s some vague ‘mmmm’ noise that could just as easily mean he simply associates Ginny with food and is trying to convey ‘yummy.’

Either way, Ginny likes to rub it in that she got a name first.

With minimal drama, the foursome disembark, luggage and pram in tow, and Harry heads off with Teddy to claim their reserved car. Ginny tugs the diaper bag further up her shoulder and resettles James on her hip, then makes her way toward the little family bathroom since James’ smell is getting a bit rough for even a mother to bear.

He coos up at her as she lays him down on the table and she tickles his belly. “Your dad is a little arse, leaving all this ,” she gestures down south, “for me.”

And she’ll fight anyone who says James didn’t send her a supremely sympathetic look even as she swiped him clean.

Harry and Teddy swap out with Ginny and James, heading off to the loo before they start on the drive into town.

They’d booked a little cottage not long after the initial chat, a cozy brick thing on an estate just outside Winchester. Harry’d mapped it all out, and their longest travel time would be about a quarter of an hour, assuming traffic is as unlikely as he suspects.

By the time he and Teddy return, Ginny’s got James all buckled into his seat and has claimed the drivers’ side for herself. Rolling down the window as they approach, Ginny leans across the center console and lets her best smirk tick up the corner of her lips. “Get in, hot stuff.”

Teddy grimaces and tugs his own door open, already distracted by telling James everything fun they’re going to do on their holiday in the country. Harry, meanwhile, has propped his forarms on the open window and ducked his head down, eyes scrunched against the late morning sun. “You better not let my wife hear you propositioning me like that, she’s a bit jealous when it comes down to it.”

“Well then get in before she comes ‘round,” Ginny shoots back, tilting her sunglasses down and lifting her brows in challenge.

Harry barks out a laugh and complies, slipping into the passenger’s seat and twisting to double check the boys before Ginny pulls away from the curb.

Sometime during her nap and between London and Winchester, the stormy winter sky gave way to an almost imitation of a spring morning. The chill still nips at cheeks, noses, and fingers, and Teddy’s able to keep up his favorite winter car ride activity - foggy pictures drawn on cold windows - while Harry fiddles with the radio. The sun’s well and truly glowing overhead, warm rays turning Harry’s blue-black hair golden and his eyes sparkling as he laughs unreservedly at Teddy’s tale of his most recent foray into the fine art of finger painting. James wriggles happily at the sound, joining in with his own giggles, and Ginny finds as she splashes through puddles and the road turns from bumpy asphalt to rutted dirt, that she’s never been quite this happy.

The cottage is just as adorable as advertised, rooms beautifully appointed with stylish but homey tufted chairs, fresh bundles of lavender tucked everywhere, marshmallow-like beds with goose down pillows, and a gorgeous garden Ginny could lie in for hours on end and not be bored.

Teddy quickly claims his bed, a fluffy little something in a room of his own but accessible enough that they’ll all feel at ease even in an odd location. The owners set up a cot for James so he can share with Teddy, and the kitchen is an absolute dream.

“This is spoiling me,” Ginny grins wide, taking in the sight of the cosy and warm cottage.

Harry sets down the groceries they’d stopped off for in between Hampshire at the train station and runs his palm along the shined countertops. “Our kitchen is going to seem a bit of a let down after this.”

Teddy’s holding James’ hands and babbling on about all the games they’ll play in the yard when Ginny tucks herself into Harry’s side. “This was a good idea.”

“I’m full of them - comes with being a PhD.”

“You’re full of something alright.”

“Don’t get testy, you’ll be a doctor sooner or later.”

“It feels more like later or never,” Ginny groans, pressing her forehead into his chest dejectedly, “Did your program feel this endless?”

His hands rise to knead at her shoulders, and she nearly moans with the release. â As she huffs out a breath, Harry murmurs, “I think you need a few days without shop talk - we both might.”

“You, in a museum, with no shop talk.”

“No - I mean nothing we actually do at the university or at work or what have you,” Harry amends, hands moving from short squeezes to long strokes up and down Ginny’s back.

“I bet you’ll break first.”

“So competitive.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

And before Harry can volley back, Teddy shouts about rabbits in the yard and they’re spilling into the garden, wellies squeaking against the cobbled path.

Ginny wakes the following morning to a depressingly empty bed, given it’s Valentine’s Day, but finds herself soon mollified as the scents and sounds of frying bacon, toast, and some other lovelies to fill her hungry belly.

Lazily, she twists onto her side and blinks at the clock. It’s well past her normal waking time and Ginny starts when she realizes James hasn’t woken her. With a steadying breath, Ginny works her way from beneath the twisted sheets and sets her feet on the plush rug, warm heady scents mingling and calling her from the comfort of bed. Ah, coffee.

Grabbing one of the thick, luxurious dressing gowns hung against the wall, Ginny fluffs the collar around her neck and shuffles into the hall.

There’s clattering, easy chatter (courtesy of Teddy), and easy rhythms filling the air. Harry loves his playlists.

James claps gleefully when Ginny rounds the corner and Harry temporarily pauses his little dance - mostly the dorkiest and most tempting little arse wiggles known to man - and Teddy trots over to show her his latest foray into the art world.

Ginny combs his lank hair back and Harry turns to press a dry kiss over her forehead before resuming his last few tosses and dressings. “Everybody grab a seat, breakfast is up.”

With much excitement and the joviality that only seems to ever arise on holiday, the little family gathers around the wooden island, plates full and hearts even more so.

Dishes are soon washed, the family dispersed to dress and ready for a day of sightseeing, and Ginny finds her husband turned a bit amorous despite his earlier ‘all business’ focus on their vittles. She’s just finished tugging a creamy oversized cashmere sweater overhead (purchased particularly for this trip), when Harry’s chilly hands wrap around her middle from behind. “How’s things, Mrs. Potter?”

Shivering, Ginny twists and flicks her fiery locks free of the rolled collar of her sweater. “Better before your little icy intrusion.”

“I have it on good authority that my hands - icy or no - are a ‘gift from the gods.’”

“Stuff it, Potter,” Ginny says, hoping for something a bit less breathy than she ends up with as Harry’s fingers tickle at the waistband of her knickers.

Humming against her neck, Harry pulls Ginny closer. “Is that a rebuff or an invitation?”

With a snort, Ginny swipes at Harry’s face, nearly upsetting his spectacles, and earning a scoff in response. “Off with you, we’ve got a carefully preserved decapitated head to see. Now put on some trousers.”

“I never thought I’d hear that sentence.”

Ginny shrugs and flops back onto the unmade bed, tugging her jeans over her hips. “Well it’s cold out - can’t have you freezing off my best friend.”

Harry does the same, minus the bed wriggling, and lets out an affronted gasp. “Three years in and I find out you’re just sticking around for my goods.”

“What good goods they are though,” Ginny answers dreamily, fingertips stroking along his hip, “You’re a right temptress, Dr. Potter.”

“I don’t think - ”

An ominous thud followed by Teddy’s even more unsettling assurance that ‘everything is ok’ breaks the little banter-laden flirtation. Harry sends a longing look Ginny’s way and buttons his jeans. “I’ve got it.”

It only takes another quarter of an hour, two plasters for Teddy’s elbow and shin, and a final nappy check for James before they’re bundled into the little rental car, crunching over gravel and onto the asphalt covered in melty snow.

Teddy seems recovered from his little episode with the iced over back steps, pointing out landmarks and other points of interest (mainly a stray sheep or two) while James listens intently and sucks on his faux key ring.

Harry’s claimed the role of driver this time, seeing as he plotted the way to Winchester Cathedral from their rental the moment it became one of their top five contenders. As they trundle down the narrow roads, Ginny wedges herself against the door, bright sun warming her face so she’s halfway to purring like a satisfied kitten.

Like an old lady, or perhaps a baby, depending on your preference, Ginny finds herself lulled to sleep by the gentle hum of the car engine, Teddy’s easy chatter, and Harry’s answering ‘mhmm.’

Soon enough, Harry cranks the motor off and prods her gently awake. “We’re here.”

“Mm, I’m ready for some good old fashioned brain-growing, museum-touring fun.”

Teddy wriggles excitedly in his booster seat while James seems to have used up his good behavior on the ride over and begins his best impression of an air raid siren.

Unclipping his belt with practiced ease, Ginny lifts James from his car seat and sniffs at his bum. “Fresh as a daisy,” she asserts, lowering him to her eye level and smirking, “Seems like someone is just being a little dramatic.”

“Gets that from his mum,” Harry teases, gripping Teddy’s shoulder as a bicyclist shoots past.

Ginny rubs her nose against James’ and murmurs, “Guess Daddy forgot about the Ancient Aliens incident.”

“It’s a slight against the progress made by our ancestors to attribute their greatest achievements to extraterrestrials that probably don’t exist.”

Teddy blinks up at Harry, “But what if they do?”

“What if they what?”

“The aliens - if they’re real then saying they didn’t do it would be bad too.”

“Touche, Ted,” Harry allows as Ginny slips James into his pram and they take their little parade over the crosswalk.

Oaks and Medlars stand like bare sentinels lining every street, sidewalk, and byway, hovering over wooden benches bearing the last remnants of the previous night’s flurries.

They pass the University on the way and Ginny can’t miss the way Harry’s gaze flits longingly toward what’s got to be the library, given the students streaming out in little clumps with armfuls of books. She elbows his arm and earns a chuckle while Teddy crunches every leaf or branch he can find. James, meanwhile, is becoming increasingly dissatisfied with being strapped into a pram and favors leaning out as far as possible to see anything and everything while he kicks his little boots helplessly.

It’s not a far walk to the cathedral, and soon broad red signs boasting adverts for each of the special exhibits on display, Kings and Scribes, seasonal events for obvious reasons, and a few local events scheduled for the next few days.

The towering spires of Winchester Cathedral are no less impressive and stalwart than you’d guess, shooting up into the sky like spears, the front face is broad and boasts intricate glasswork inlaid amid stacked bricks. Statues paying tribute to saints and heroes rise up from the brown earth.

Inside, chairs are set in meticulous rows behind lovingly waxed pews that have held worshippers for centuries. Shined floors reflect everything that passes over them like mirrors, a fact taken advantage of by artists who’ve set bronze sculptures in the light cast by the intricate windows.

In something like a fairytale, James and Teddy seem stunned into good and quiet behavior as they pick their way through the cathedral. After making a circuit of the main sanctuary, arched ceilings lead them toward a broad room filled with glass cases and carefully catalogued artifacts.

Unsurprisingly, the skull is given pride of place, on display in a gilded tank-like case. Mere seconds before contact, Harry grabs Teddy’s perpetually grubby fingers and reads from the plaque. “Valentine’s Day originated as a Western Feast Day celebrating an early Catholic Saint, Valentinus…”

Ginny peers over his shoulder, “He could use a dentist, eh?”

Teddy snorts and Harry rolls his eyes, though a grin tickles his lips.

Throughout the day, as Teddy and James manage to remain relatively entertained by every nerdy fact and object Harry throws at them, Ginny finds herself wondering if it’s nature or nurture that has managed to ensure both boys are pretty solidly in the nerd zone.

Not that she’s completely without blame, or whatever you call it.

They make it through everything the New Minster has to offer, plus about a third of the University before breaking for lunch when James’ whimpers start, which are inevitably followed by louder wails until he’s fed. Plus Harry’s got that pre-hangry look in his eyes that Ginny’s learned not to test. After some poking around on the internet, they settle on Piecaramba which has pretty consistent reviews and some delicious looking menu items. Harry’s feeling adventurous and orders up a vegan something or other while Teddy and Ginny order a Bounty Hunter (buttery crust filled with chicken, bacon and melted cheese in a barbeque sauce) and fish & chips to share. James is contented with his pureed veggies so long as Ginny offers him a bit of crust so he can have pie too.

The rest of the day passes smoothly, until they wander back home for a family dinner and cozy evening spent in front of a roaring fire while snow falls gently outside.

It’s still early when the boys drift off, overtired from the trip and a long day to boot, and soon Harry and Ginny are tucked up on the couch. Cozy, warm, familiar, and more than a little amorous on Valentine’s day.

Wine poured and wireless cranked low, Harry prods the fire back to life and tucks himself against Ginny’s side with a sigh. “Who knew two children below the age of ten could be so tiring.”

Ginny chuckles around the rim of her glass and lets her head fall against Harry’s. “Probably most people.”

“I must’ve missed that lesson.”

“And you call yourself a PhD,” Ginny says, teasing as she lifts her hand to comb through Harry’s wild locks.

He nuzzles closer, breath coming out in warm puffs against her collar bone, sending her heart thudding. For a moment, Ginny considers the possibility that it’s unintentional, the way he’s making her wild. Until his chilly fingers breach the waistband of her trousers, prodding, seeking, but never quite delivering much of anything.

“You’re a menace, Potter.”

Harry sits up, twisting to get closer as his right hand rises to mirror his left. “So’re you, Gin. God when you’re not even trying,” the end of his thought is lost to Ginny’s lips as she tips them until her back hits the cushions.

Jumpers are quickly abandoned - Ginny pauses to smack Harry and tell him cashmere never gets tossed on the floor - and trousers loosened until they both come to their senses, a log cracking in the fire drawing them from the haze. “We have two kids, and one can walk,” Harry murmurs against Ginny’s sternum, his chest heaving as she takes a steadying breath.

Ginny hums.

“Maybe take this behind a locked door?”

They both straighten, Ginny running careless fingers through her knotted waves while Harry searches for his spectacles.

“I’m just going to take them off again,” Ginny laughs, grabbing her sweater and sauntering toward the bedroom.

Raising his fist triumphantly, Harry slips his glasses back over his ears and basically stalks across the room until Ginny’s shoulders brush the soft yellow wall. “I want to be able to see. Everything.”

“You - hm.”

“Speechless, Potter?”

“Not yet, but we’ve got time,” Ginny winks, but before she can depart with a cheeky strut, Harry’s arm bands around her middle and somehow she’s tossed over his shoulder.

“Such a he-man.”

“I’m reinforcing the idea that I’m a virile mate good for procreation.”

Ginny snorts as Harry drops her on the mattress, nearly sending her bouncing to the carpet. She props herself up on her elbows and shimmies her shoulders a bit. “Mm, bring it on, nerdy man.”

Harry shucks his jeans and kicks them away, then easily slips his socks off. “Have I ever told you about the intricate burial practices of the Maya?”

Ginny wriggles free of her trousers and throws her head back with a dramatic moan, “Oh, Harry!”

He’s cradled between her thighs now and nipping at her jaw. “There were thousands of different positions bodies could be placed in to symbolize status and the journey the deceased would take in the afterlife.”

As her hands wander low, Ginny laughs and nudges Harry’s lips towards hers. “I feel like this little academic exercise is about two sentences from creepy.”

He nods. “Me too. No more talking?”

She flips their positions and grips Harry’s wrists. “No more talking.”

The Potters plus Lupin sleep late the following morning in that magical, restful way that only seems possible on holiday. Teddy knocks on the door to Harry and Ginny’s room around half past nine, letting Ginny know James is doing his little ‘I’m hungry’ whimper and that if it matters, he’s a bit hungry too.

Chuckling, Harry tells Teddy to go start setting the table. Once the door falls shut, Harry flops back against the still warm bed sheets and groans. “Ah, Gin. I can’t tell if I’m too old for this or too young.”

“You’re just right, Goldilocks,” Ginny says, wandering across the room to find her pajamas in the tall chest of drawers tucked in the far corner.

As she slips her flannels over her hips, Harry somehow droops further. “That is the saddest sight in the entire world.”

With a snort, Ginny tosses a fresh pair of pants Harry’s way and nudges the drawers closed with her hip. Harry rolls from the bed and drags his boxers over his bum. “No, Harry. That is the saddest sight in the world.”

They share a rueful grin and Ginny presses a kiss to his forehead before disappearing into the hall, James’ whines gaining in volume. After a second, Ginny peers back around the doorframe, floorboards creaking underneath her feet. “Your son.”

Before long, breakfast is on the table, the family’s gathered around, and sunlight’s spearing through the brilliant white curtains. There’s swiping of sausage links, butter spread over crisp toast, and cubed fruit popped like bits of candy. Harry’s nothing if not an overzealous breakfast chef. But it’s just one of the many ways Ginny learned Harry’s love is less often told, and most likely to be seen and experienced. He’ll blush trying to whisper sweet nothings and then proofread, edit, and notate an academic article you’ve half finished writing while you sleep. And make dinner.

Tidying the kitchen is a quick affair and Teddy’s doing his best to carry James into the living room to play with the toys he’d managed to fit in his luggage (a few more than the ‘your three favorites’ instruction Harry’d given).

Harry and Ginny take turns in the shower - the lure of saving water overcome by the litany of terrible outcomes possible if the boys were left on their own - and by eleven, they’re all bundled and headed out into the yard.

The previous day’s flurries and the heavier snowfall overnight have cloaked everything in a soft layer of white. James is strapped to Harry’s chest and Teddy immediately claims the southern corner of the yard, shouting that he’s established Fort Lupin.

As he begins raising a thick, bumpy wall, Ginny works the snow into a stronghold of her own. When Harry attempts to take refuge, she tosses a few shoddily made snowballs to keep him out, careful to avoid James’ little capped head.

Teddy gives him similar treatment and Harry moans dramatically that he’s a man without a country. Which earns some jeers and a stuck out tongue from Teddy.

Once their hovels are built, there’s a pause while each army fills up their armory and then uneasy silence before the first projectile is thrown.

Harry, Ginny, and Teddy share tense glances, the air silent save for a few birds arcing overhead. Until James becomes bored with nothing to do and no one to play with. His shout-giggle serves as the gauntlet thrown and then the yard is filled with flying snowballs.

It’s a morning to remember, soggy, sunny, and filled with laughter. Cheeks are red with exertion and chill, Harry’s hat is lost in the fray, and Ginny tosses her mittens aside in favor of accuracy (ignoring Harry’s assertions that she’ll lose a finger to frostbite).

And when the little family collapses in a heap on the living room floor, bellies aching with laughter, Ginny thinks she’s never had a better Valentine’s Day.

Ginny’s got her first Saturday off work since March began so it’s only natural that she spends the small amount of time her boys are napping treating herself to a bubble bath, candles and music included.

“Smells nice,” says Harry, shuffling his slippered feet inside the en-suite bathroom, bleary eyed and hair sticking all over.

“Cherry Vanilla,” Ginny smiles, clearing the brim of the tub and adding a clean towel on top of it for Harry to sit comfortably. It’s almost become a tradition of theirs, her long baths accompanied by their long talks, with Harry rubbing her shoulders or gently washing her hair after an exhausting week of mind numbing but overall rewarding work.

He takes another appreciative sniff and claims the improvised seat, bending to reach the soap and spinning it between his palms until a satisfying coat of lather’s been created. He washes her back in silence, Ginny’s small moans of pleasure punctuating his strokes over her shoulders from time to time.

When he’s done, his hands travel up to her temples and tenderly massage them in large to smaller circles as she hums, relaxed.

“So what’s for dinner?” Ginny asks, leaning to rest her back as her feet stretch until they reach the wall of the tub.

“What would the beautiful lady prefer?” Harry smirks, tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear.

“Not cheesy pizza,” she grimaces.

“Well that’s new,” Harry raises an eyebrow, unaccustomed to his wife not wholeheartedly embracing the opportunity to gorge herself with some cheesy something or other.

“Dunno, I’m just not feeling it.”

“Okay, how about pasta?”

“Bah,” her nose crinkles as she dips herself under the water until it nearly reaches the tip of her nose.

“I’m getting the distinct feeling James inherited his distaste of whatever I propose as a meal from you,” Harry chuckles. “Paella?”

“God no!”

“So you’re not feeling very mediterranean tonight. Are you feeling anything though? Because I’m honestly out of ideas.” Harry’s shoulders slump as he watches Ginny pout, blowing bubbles through her pursed lips, unable to comprehend what’s bothering her. If he recalls, she’s never refused any of the aforementioned dishes and, luckily for his academic career, his memory is still in tip-top shape.

“Not particularly, but - oh,” Ginny’s eyes widen. A pause, then she rapidly rises from the sudsy water, splashes all over and jumps on the bathmat with accuracy, leaving Harry behind blinking and feeling very confused.

“Gin?” He calls, scratches the back of his head. Yet no one answers. “Ginny?” Harry tries again, raising to his feet to go after her.

“Harry?” Her voice quivers as she speaks his name, naked in the middle of their bedroom.

“Alright, love?” Harry quickly closes the distance between them, cups her brow and searches deep inside her chocolate brown eyes, worried and ready to shield her from any pain or sorrow.

“How would you feel about me wearing your sweaters this winter?”

“Brilliant, I guess. But I thought you really loved yours - oh,” He freezes as he finally understands, “We’re doing it again, aren’t we?”

A mischievous glint forms at the corner of her eyes and Ginny grins, “You mean the whole baby madness because yes! If my calculations are correct, that is - I think this is a surprise souvenir from Winchester.”

Harry smiles softly and holds her for a moment, arms draped around her shoulders as happiness unfolds inside his chest. And it grows and it grows until he can’t keep it still any longer so he lets himself laugh and cry at the same time, love and a feeling of completeness unraveling themselves in that moment, encompassing between kisses and clumsy hands hurrying to rid him of his clothes. Without a second thought, she wraps her bare thighs around his middle and he carries them both to bed, to celebrate the magic of having once again created life.

Later, cozy and sated among the messy bedsheets, Harry cuddles Ginny closer against his chest and laughs like a puff of air from his lungs. “Can you believe it?”

Ginny hums. “We really are good at that.”

“No - I mean yes we are but. Another baby - and conceived on bloody Valentine’s Day.”

“Bloody is right - he was beheaded you know.”

Harry snorts. “What an amazing piece of trivia. Anyone who shares knowledge like that is a gentleman and a scholar.”

“And a virile little baby maker,” Ginny adds.

“Two to tango.”

“What a tango it was.”

we're always over the moon to hear what you think so please don't hesitate to share with us :) we’ve missed fluffy-nerdy hinny dearly so bringing them back just in time for valentine’s day was a real fun ride!

lots of love and may your valentine's be as you wish it to be, @gryffindormischief & @fightfortherightsofhouseelves

#hinny #hinny au #muggle au #harry X ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #ginny potter #read-a-hinny-fic #valentine's day #valentine's fic #kindle #glow #gryffindormischief #fightfortherightsofhouseelves #we're bringing fluffy back #and nerdy #def nerdy #hope you loved

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serensama · 7 years

Text

To Realise

A mini celebration for 2000 followers! Thanks Everyone!!!! A Soulmate AU where they only realise they are Soulmates when they say/read/hear each other’s names out loud followed by an immediate overflowing of emotion sparking inside of them. Instant realisation.

Yoosung:

- He was already running late. This was not the first impression he wanted to give to everyone! He was in University! He was intelligent! He knew how to set a simple alarm!

- … in theory yes, in practise… not so much… hence the lateness…

- It also didn’t help that he couldn’t remember which lecture theatre he was meant to be in- which meant he had to stop and scan for his name at each door on the floor… four down three to go…

- Kim Yoosung… Kim Yoosung… Kim… nope not that room!

- When he got to the final room (because of course it had to be the final room) he managed to find his name… but his eyes were mysteriously drawn to another name, his mouth wrapping itself around the syllables before he knew what he was doing…

- “M… MC?”

- His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest, his knees went wobbly and his head felt light and fuzzy, yet so damn clear at the same time. Yoosung stilled himself, bracing his arms against the doorframe to insure he wouldn’t fall flat on his face.

- What was happening to him?

- He had never felt this way before- was he coming down with something? He touched the back of his hand against his forehead and sure enough he was warm and sweaty.

- Though, granted, it could have been because he had been running for the last fifteen minutes and trying not to burst out crying because he was going to be late- not because he was sick and dying.

- His stomach fluttered and his mouth ran dry… no, he must be getting sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that pizza that was left over… from three days ago. He really needed to start cooking more.

- Yoosung clamped his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe deeply, he could get through this. It was only one hour. He could do this.

- Opening the door, the newly blonde haired student waltzed into the theatre only to have the entire room turn to face him.

- Great. He must have been later than he thought he was.

- Only to have them all shrug and continue on with their conversations.

- Yoosung turned to his left to where their professor was meant to be standing, only to see it empty- the teacher was late? He wasn’t the last one to class? Finally! He managed to catch a break!

- Running a hand through his sweat soaked hair and laughing as he wiped his palm on his jeans, Yoosung shook his head at how stupid he was to worry so much… besides, chiding himself made it easier to forget the uneasy feeling coursing through his veins.

- It wasn’t a bad sensation, just… different. Good. Like little bubbles of pure emotion streaming through his blood. Why he felt happy and excited and nervous all at the same time… he didn’t know. Weirdest case of food poisoning he ever had that was for sure-

- He began to scan the rows of seats for the easiest spot to slip into and found one close to the middle just on the aisle without anyone sitting in between him and the girl on the other side, the really pretty girl laughing with her friends…

- Yoosung pressed his blunt nails into the flesh of his palm to wake himself up from his unintentional staring. He took in a bolstering breath and psyched himself up just so he could sit down, it’s not like the cute girl had noticed him or his existence or anything. It would be fine.

- Edging into the chair and adjusting the fold up side table he began to unpack his books and pens, only for his latest guide for LOLOL to slip out from between his textbooks.

- The girl next to him caught sight of the bright colours from the side of her eye and turned around, her eyes focused on the cover of the magazine before they shot up to look him in the eye.

- She was stunning. And she looked disgusted with him.

- “Tsk, another one of those computer geeks who do nothing but sit in their dark little apartments and fall in love with fictional characters,” she sneered as her friends cackled behind her… clearly none of them had grown up any since graduating from high school. Yoosung sighed and was about to shyly excuse himself when-

- “Yeah, that’s right! We sit in our apartments and fall in love with fictional characters who still have far more depth and strength of character in one pixel than you could ever have in your entire being… Girl- did you regress into your 7th grade form over the holidays after graduating- it’s cool if you did, I’d like to study you for my psychology lab- I’ll entitle it, ‘Dumb bitch, scared and out of her league, forgets how to act like a decent human being.’ Know what? Just leave- you’re not appreciated here- we wouldn’t want to infect you with our geekiness.”

- Yoosung turned around to see a girl with big earphones and an even bigger hoodie sitting forward giving the first (not so cute anymore) girl the most menacing glare he had ever seen, bar the ones his mother wielded.

- The group of girls huffed and tried to retort under their breaths before packing up and moving rows.

- Headphones girl clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she made up her mind; she slung her cross-body bag over her shoulder as she clambered over the seats to sit next to Yoosung. The girl slightly winded from her almost-argument and her repositioning, offered the blonde boy a crooked grin- one he returned without hesitation.

- “So… LOLOL boy- you gonna let me look at that guide? I was meaning to pick one up today after class but since you have one right here…” she eluded as she quirked one eyebrow up to test if he caught her drift. He did. He handed her the guide.

- “H-hey… thanks for before… I didn’t know what I should say, if I should say anything at all-” “No sweat LOLOL boy-” “Hahah are you going to call me that forever?” he asked, laughing as he rubbed the back of his neck.

- The girl eyed him critically from behind the pages of the guide.

“Pretty much, yes.”

Yoosung chuckled as he twirled his pen through the tips of his fingers, happy to feel the earlier wash of illness and emotion wane into nothing but a sense of peace and calm. “Well, can I at least have a name to call you? Butt-Kicking Classmate is kind of a mouthful.” “And yet so apt-” “Yes I understand this but-”

- “MC. My name is MC.”

The waning was nothing but the calm before the storm, the eye of the tornado- and Yoosung was the poor cow stuck up 1000 feet in the air and she… she was the tornado. The boy sat back as he burnt up, his cheeks flaring as he bit his lip to not shout out from the sheer heat that he endured. Why did this happen every time he heard her name? Or said her name? Or even thought of her name? It was infuriating! “What should I call you if not LOL-” “Yoosung. Kim… Kim Yoosung.”

- He had heard a soft gasp from behind the pages of the guide and he didn’t miss the way her hands trembled, or how wide her eyes had become. Slowly but steadily, MC drew the magazine down past her chin until her entire face was visible to him… that fluttering in his stomach, that fuzzy but clear feeling- it all came rushing back one hundred-fold.

- “Yoosung… Kim… you say?” she asked, her once confident voice all but whispered.

- He had never heard his name sound so beautiful.

- “Yes, Yoosung Kim…” he confirmed with the smallest of nods of his head, watching as she swallowed some saliva and captivated in the way her throat moved as she did so. He was entranced by the way her mouth seemed to want to do a thousand different things, smile, talk, laugh, scream… so damn expressive.

- MC clicked her tongue once more as she was wont to do when she made an important decision and put the guide back down on his desk before leaning forward, completely invading his personal space. Not that he was complaining. In fact… she could invade it more. It didn’t seem close enough.

- “Yoosung Kim… I’ve been looking for you, for a long time,” she smiled, her warm hand resting atop his, a flash of electricity passing through their touch. “You have? Why? I’m just me, little old Yoosung…”

- She threw her head back and laughed and to him it sounded like bells chiming.

- “Yes, you are little old Yoosung, but from today - you are my little old Yoosung…” she pointed out as her pointer finger booped him firmly on the tip of his nose. “Well if I’m yours, th-then you’re mine!” he answered his chest puffing out slightly- why had he said that? When did he become so damn brazen? Was he going crazy?

“Hahaha, duh! If you’re my Soulmate then I’m your Soulmate- so of course I’m yours!”

“….. Soul… soul what?”

- His parents had never told him anything about Soulmates, didn’t prepare him for what was to come. He was hit by a truck and completely floored.

- The truck was named MC. He didn’t want to get up.

- “Care to explain?”

- MC stared at him completely dumbfounded, her mouth agape and her eyes even wider than before. She inhaled and nodded, resigning herself to the fact that the love of her life was completely innocent and that she did indeed have to teach him everything.

- It was going to be so much fun.

- “You see when a man and a woman love each other very much-” “MC I KNOW ABOUT SEX I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT SOULMATES!” he hissed loud enough for the two rows surrounding them to snigger at. “Sex? Who said anything about sex? Geez, I say soulmate and you’re already trying to get into my pants-” “MC!” he whined, his amethyst eyes large and pleading. Of course, she acquiesced.

- “Forever Yoosung. It means that you and me, until death do us part, no matter what… it’s me and you.”

- He took a moment to process this, that he had literally no choice in who he fell in love with- that fate intervened and made sure that he had someone to love and someone to love him in return for the rest of his life… it was just so much to take in…

- MC entwined her fingers with his when she noticed what she assumed was struggle painted on his face. This, he was going to have this, forever.

- It didn’t matter that he had just met the girl, that he knew nothing about her- his body knew before he did. He already loved her.

- He smiled and squeezed her hand back.

- “Okay… I think I’m okay with that.”

Zen:

- His first motion picture…

- He was beside himself. He couldn’t believe that his agent had managed to get him this part! It was meant for a more well-known leading man and an unknown actress but they had fallen in love with how well he had read for the part and how well his headshots looked against the actress’s.

- He hadn’t been told who they had chosen, it wasn’t like it really mattered at the end of the day- the girl was an unknown, fresh faced and new in the show business role. She had never acted a day in her life but the casting director had seen her on the street and she had just the aesthetic he was after- it was just pure dumb luck that she was natural at acting.

- He had planned to talk to her at the read through but she had lost her voice and couldn’t attend… it wasn’t until they were both there for the first physical run through of the scenes that they actually met…

- “Oh hi! You must be-” “Yeah! You’re the actress playing MC right?-”

- He didn’t get to finish his sentence, nor did she.

- She was whisked off to fit some costumes and he… he couldn’t breathe.

- The moment he said MC, his lips started to tingle and an odd buzzing sound rang in his ears. His cheeks felt flushed and his heart beat raced. He couldn’t understand… he had said that name more than a thousand times whilst reading the script, not once did he ever feel that way. It must have been her. Seeing her and her face must have just solidified his character’s feelings inside him of course. That must be what it was.

- When she finally returned and they shook hands he could have sworn that he felt his own heartbeat beating in time with hers, palm to palm, one solid beat.

- Damn it he needed to focus and not get too lost into the character… his character was the love-sick fool not him! He was a professional! He had only met this girl! He-he

- … she had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life.

- FOCUS!

- He had to thank whatever it was running through his system because he had never felt more “on” than at that moment. Every line he delivered to her felt authentic and organic, like he truly meant it. Looking around it was obvious that everyone else on set agreed, absolutely transfixed on the couple centre stage.

- He could feel every word she was saying to him like it was scripture; that every word of love and devotion that she spoke had the power to let him walk on air… and god he really wanted to try.

- …

- He must have been a better actor than even he gave himself credit for, making himself believe that he was already half in love with the woman in front of him…

- He didn’t even want to stop rehearsing until the Director had called out three times for them to finish up, he was just a ball of energy and wanted nothing more than to release that through this amazing acting he and this actress were performing, he didn’t want to lose momentum.

- He didn’t want to lose what he was feeling…

- “H-Hey! MC! Did you want to go and get some lunch with me?” he had asked before realising that he had called her by her character’s name. He felt the blood flood his cheeks as he forced himself not to slap himself or just die from embarrassment. He couldn’t be that far gone into this role to already be thinking of her as her character… this is how idiots fall in love with co-stars… “I’m so sorry, habit, I didn’t mean to call you MC-”

“And why not? It’s my name too,” she smiled as she rested her hand on his bicep, the muscle there twitching instinctively under her touch.

- Shit.

- Zen was no fool. He knew what this meant. He knew, deep down, that he wasn’t that good of an actor to fool himself- damn it- he was already half in love.

- The only half evidently. She seemed completely unaffected… unless… had she said his name yet? No, she hadn’t. Only his character’s name!

- “How silly of me! All this time I’ve never introduced myself properly! Hello MC, my name is Zen, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he beamed offering his hand out to her.

- Please

- She smiled and took his hand and laughed as he flipped it over to kiss the back of hers.

- “Oh! Hahah- wow! Um… yes, yes it’s lovely to meet you too Zen… Zen.”

- He watched in rapt fascination as her fingers curled around his almost painfully, how her eyes widened and how her jaw fell and closed but fell back down- as if she were trying to desperately find the words… or simply remember how to talk.

- “So… it’s true what they say…” he trailed off as he drew her closer with a simple tug of her hand still within his, “About when you meet your other half…”

Swallowing deeply and finally blinking her burning eyes MC shook her head and took a step back, though, she did not withdraw her hand. “What do they say?” she asked her voice trembling as much as her body was.

“That when you finally say your Soulmate’s name- nothing else in the world sounds as beautiful. That nothing else tastes as nice as the name of your Soulmate on your tongue. That the mere thought of their name is enough to bring tears to your eyes…”

- She stared at him completely astonished by the ardent proclamations of this- stranger-

- “No one says that,” she whispered as she licked her lips subconsciously her eyes fixated on his, content on watching him worry at the plump flesh. “Not out loud…” “They should… So- um… lunch?” she asked finally pulling away and bringing her hand to her chest, her other hand cradling it almost tenderly, her fingers tracing the still- warm parts of her skin that he had held.

- They talked about anything that came to mind, their pasts, their dreams, their favourite food and their mutual aversion to cats. “A cat scratched my face when I was three and although I think they’re beautiful, I just… I just can’t.”

- Soulmates were made to be a perfect fit after all…

- Once they got back on set the tension between the two was so thick it was practically humming- everyone could see that something had happened over lunch.

- During a pivotal scene, where they were about to finally separate ways forever and part with a kiss…

- MC was looking at Zen, tears brimming in her eyes –geez what a talent- merely four lines away from their kiss and-

- … and she dropped her script and crossed the stage to kiss him. Completely unscripted. Completely inappropriate.

- It was perfect.

- “-But Director, they’re not meant to kiss yet-”

“Shhh… she’s absolutely right! The character wouldn’t be able to wait, she wouldn’t want to waste a moment with talk when these two people are all about action! Have the scriptwriters add it right away-”

- Zen smirked as they continued to share their first kiss with more than fifty random people around them. He didn’t care, the Director was right. They didn’t want to waste another moment- and suddenly- Zen didn’t mind being one of those idiot actors who fell in love with his co-star.

- “Okay guys we get the point, we should probably move on… guys?… guys?!”

Jaehee:

- It wasn’t particularly easy being kicked out by your Uncle and Aunt… she didn’t have anyone… and she didn’t want to touch what little was left of her inheritance from her parents so- she figured it would be better if she found a part time job.

- That way her mind would be occupied at all times and she could indeed earn some money.

- Besides… working with coffee wasn’t a bad thing. Being a barista wasn’t a bad thing, even if it did mean she was practically drooling at every order she made, she figured there would be worse cons to a job… like being a slave to a tyrant who overworked you and never appreciated you- she shuddered. She never wanted to end up like that!

- It was a particularly busy day being the first weeks of winter, everyone would run in just wanting a cup of something warm to hold to help them heat up against the chill in the air, the poor brunette was already run off her feet. She was barely even looking at the customers in the eyes as she pushed their orders across the counter.

- Wiping the sweat off her brow with the back of her arm, Jaehee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Soon. Her own break would be soon. Just the next order to do and she would be free for 30 glorious minutes.

- Pulling the last ticket off the machine so she could read her colleague’s sloppy writing a little easier, she memorised the order and proceeded to make it perfectly. Pouring it out into the large cup Jaehee took the receipt again to make sure she got the customer’s name right- MC…

- She nearly spilt the drink all over herself.

- That name. She’d seen it a thousand times before. Written it a thousand times before.

- But this time- this person’s name… it made her heart skip a beat. It made her heart feel full and happier than it had for the longest time. It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. It made her think of a home, a real one with her and this MC.

- All from a name.

- Jaehee finished writing the name down on the cup neatly and carefully put the pen down. She licked her lips and inhaled and called out in a voice she hoped didn’t shake too much, “MC?!”

- “Oh here!?”

- Jaehee looked up to see an angel in a trench coat and beanie. Her skin kissed with cold, nose and cheeks rosy and eyes bright. Such beauty right in front of her. “Um… may I please have my order um… Jae-Jaehee?”

- The two women looked at each other from either side of the counter, the noise and hustle and bustle of the small coffee shop completely going unnoticed by them.

- Jaehee pushed the cup to the middle of the bench only to be met in the middle by MC’s hand, her gloved fingers wrapping themselves around her quivering digits.

- “I… this is…” she stammered unable to look away from the other woman’s eyes, her own honeyed irises large with disbelief.

- She couldn’t be that lucky… to meet them… to meet her so early in life…

- “It is,” MC answered her pink cheeks turning red as her lips curled into a stunning smile.

- “B-but I don’t believe in-” “I’m standing right here.”

“Nothing good ever happens to me-” “Right in front of you.” “I have a break now-” “Let’s have a coffee.”

- For the first time since she started working there, Jaehee took her break front of house… with a customer no less… and no one batted an eye when 30 minutes turned to an hour. Then an hour into an hour and a half- the girl had never smiled like she did right then; who were they to take that away from her?

- They did however yell at her when she accidentally kept writing and calling out MC’s name for every order for the next day.

Jumin:

- Soulmates? Preposterous. His father had spent his entire adult life looking for his soulmate, convinced that every pretty woman who batted their eyelashes at him and feigned to feel a strong connection to him (his money) was the one. This obsession with finding his Soulmate leading their family to shame and their company to ruin.

- Well. Not. Him.

- He didn’t believe in such nonsense. Not once did he find a woman worth spending time with let alone believing them capable to be the other perfect half of your soul. That would be the day.

- All throughout high school he had one vapid girl after another clawing at him to say their name, hoping that he would feel the twinge in his heart and for butterflies to zoom out of his butt or some ridiculous notion like that. By the first month of school he refused to call any girl by their name and insisted on labelling everyone “Hey you there” or “Female student in front of me.”

- By the time he entered university, word had gotten out that Jumin Han just hated the idea of anyone being in love- because who would so vehemently refuse to even try to find their Soulmate? Who would look down on others just for trying to find a little piece of happiness? He was just an angry, lonely man.

- Not that they were entirely wrong on that assessment… but not entirely right either.

- Though, he didn’t let something like public opinion of him falter his course or his ideas- Jumin never thought much of other people’s talking of subjects they had no idea about. He took great pleasure it picking apart their arguments and making them sound like fools.

- Probably why he made such an excellent debater, Captain of the team in fact.

- In his final year of University, they were finally pitted against their rival school; not once in all the years he had been on the team had he had the chance to face off with the national champions- he was always called off to sit in with his father’s meetings or off sick; but not this time. This time he would meet them, crush them and reclaim the title for his school.

- He had tried every avenue to find out what they could about their new Captain but everyone was on lockdown, no one would talk and all means of electronically hacking their systems to find out who they were, were completely barred. He didn’t want to cheat, it would sully his victory- no he just wanted to be prepared. Know their history, their grades and whatnot- let it never be said that Jumin Han didn’t do his homework.

- The day of the debate arrived and sure enough familiar faces lined the opposite team- except one. A pretty girl he supposed, hardly what he would call imposing with her sweet smile and her intermittent waves to the crowd in front of them. Hardly Captain material, he’d be surprised if she was first chair… but wait- what was she doing sitting in the Captain’s chair?

- Good Lord.

- This was going to be too easy.

- Jumin barely heard the announcer listing off his teammates but he paused when he heard her name. It cut through him like a hot knife through butter, seared onto his brain.

- MC.

- He felt nauseous, a cold sweat forming on his upper lip as his steel grey eyes raked over her smaller form.

- She looked just as shaken as he did; her hands ringing together ripping the tissues trapped between her fingers.

- He thought he was going to faint- what was this feeling? He mouthed her name and the feeling of illness slipped away only to be replaced with a wash of warmth? A silly tingling in his blood that seemed to be singing her name in his ears. His mouth was dry and his throat on fire, his palms lined with a sheen of sweat and his heart beating in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t understand.

- He watched as MC calmed herself all the while keeping her gaze focused on him, her cheeks burning up the longer she stared. She ran her tongue along her lower lip and he had never been so charmed by a muscle in his life.

- Jumin she mouthed, maybe to him, maybe to herself- he didn’t know- what he did notice however was the way her hand clutched at her blazer just above where her heart would be. She didn’t look like she was in pain but she wasn’t exactly the same grinning woman he had seen moments earlier.

- Indeed, it seemed that Jumin could barely tear his eyes off her, he couldn’t pay attention to his teammates, he couldn’t take notes- he could only focus on her. Just how far had he fallen? Over hearing a name and seeing a pretty face? Get it together Jumin!

- Except he couldn’t. Every time he tried to rebut an argument he would instinctively look back at the opposite team and his eyes locked onto hers and he’d be lost. Each time he’d make any headway with his points he’d want to say her name instead, and of course, everything came out all tongue tied.

- Thankfully for him, her performance wasn’t much better, she was a blushing mess but still- a coherent blushing mess.

- Jumin’s university went home empty handed that year after all.

- But not Jumin, not this time.

- He wouldn’t lose twice in one day.

- “Hello there, good performance today.”

“You too.”

“I’m Jumin Han-” “I know. I’m MC-”

“I heard, yes.”

- Her teammates were calling for her to hurry up and get on the bus and she was about to call back to them but was cut off by the suddenly confident opposing Captain, “Please go on ahead- I will take MC home.” They looked at her and she in turn looked up to him and shook her head at his cavalier and brash assumption. He was just lucky it was the correct one. “It’s fine guys, you heard what Jumin said- he’s going to take me home.”

- The silence in the auditorium was deafening. Jumin never spoke a girl’s first name and he certainly never let someone who just met him call him by his first name… unless…

- Jumin fiddled with the cufflinks in his sleeves trying to buy time before he had to speak again. MC picked at imaginary lint at her skirt in hopes that the man would continue his initiative.

- “I… I don’t know how any of this works… in fact until about an hour ago I was certain it was all a farce,” he admitted his eyes firmly fastened on her right shoulder, “but if… if it’s really what it seems like is it- what it feels like it is- I would like the chance to understand it all. Understand everything about you.”

- MC smiled, even if she wasn’t his Soulmate, after that heartfelt speech, she would have bribed the stars themselves to realign just so she could be. “I don’t know how this works either- my mother told me it might happen one day, to just pray it would just happen before I got married to someone else who I thought was my Soulmate… is it… I mean… you felt it too? When you heard my name?” she questioned her eyebrows arching up as high as they would go. “The pull? The need to keep saying my name over and over again? Tell me it just wasn’t me.”

- Jumin’s lips quirked to the side in an amused smirk, this girl was adorable. She could have asked to have his heart out on a platter and he’d have freely offered it, but all she required was the confirmation of his budding feelings from him.

- Just too easy.

- “I did. I feel it now. I have no choice but to believe in all this-” “Prove it.”

“Uh…how?”

“Scream my name out into the audience, let everyone hear it! Let everyone hear the name on the tip of your tongue, the name that your heart beats to now!” she goaded him, an excited grin on her face.

- Jumin stared at her in shock- again another easy request… he didn’t care what people thought of him after all. Shrugging nonchalantly Jumin opened his mouth to swallow a gulp of air more than ready to scream out her name-

- Only to have two delicate hands cover his mouth and a giggle that was not his own reverberating on his chest.

“Damn it! I didn’t think you’d actually do it! You’re crazy! I believe it, I believe you!” she guffawed, burying her face against him, her body heat and laughter seeping into him and offering a warmth that he had never felt before.

- He liked it.

- He wanted more.

- “So… perhaps it wouldn’t be out of line for me to ask you out to dinner?” he asked looking down at the crown of her head. “O-Of course not!” “Tonight?”

- The tentative slip of her hand in his was answer enough for him.

Saeyoung:

- He was a good, diligent worker and that was all that mattered to the Agency.

- He barely ate, he barely slept, barely did anything but exist and work.

- The perfect agent.

- Then they brought her in.

- 606.

- Quiet and withdrawn but brilliant. She could code almost as well as he did and she could hack into places faster and without a trace better than him. She slept less than him. Ate less than him. Was less than him.

- She wasn’t going to survive, she would burn out and become useless to the Agency and she would have to be disposed of.

- … and even as far as he had come, as low as he had gone… that didn’t sit right with him. He chose this life, but someone that hollow did not. Someone that broken had been torn away from a good life, a happy life.

- He imagined her having younger siblings who missed her, parents who searched the streets with her picture in hand begging for information, friends who no longer spoke to each other because the memory of her haunted them.

- He wasn’t going to let the agency steal a life that didn’t belong to them.

- It all started with innocent emails; just him asking how she was, sending her funny jokes or pictures, bantering and bitching about work in such a way that no one would be able to crack down on them for… make her smile. Make her strong. Don’t let her break.

- 606 soon became the life of the office… which didn’t say much because it was literally just him, her and Vanderwood in the small room. She was laughing and smiling and radiating joy- her work improved… the Agency was very happy.

- 707. Stay back tonight. Help me with an assignment?

- Of course, 606, whatever you need.

- That night when Vanderwood had finally gone past his threshold of exhaustion, the older man peeled himself off the chair and bid “the children” goodnight.

- She kept typing, she kept on finishing her work for another 20 minutes as he sat there dumbfounded as to why she had asked him to stay back when all she was doing was literally more work. That was what tomorrow was for!

- He was about to pack up and leave when she threw him a piece of paper.

I’m leaving. Tonight. Come with me.

- He looked back up at her, there was nothing on her face to discern that she even sent him the message- or even blinked. “So… you in?”

- Of course, 606, whatever you need.

- He nodded. She kept typing.

“Come and see me in my room then?”

- Aahhh, so that’s how she was going to hide it- she was going to pretend they were going to sleep together. That was something he often found weird in the Agency- they didn’t care or discourage the formation of relationships between agents- probably believed if you got attached they could always use the partner as insurance or worse, incentive. “Yeah, I’ll meet you in there.”

- When he arrived she was in full combat gear, she was ready to fight her way out if needed. They went over the plan over and over again, whispering directly into each other’s ears so that not even the bugs in their rooms could pick up what they were saying. Also with occasional moan or shudder it seemed like they were just making out.

- Her room was just above the route the laundry trucks would ride out from and she had managed to make contact with one of her friends from the outside- come midnight she, they, would jump down and escape this hell hole. They only had one chance to do this- the other agents on duty would notice a paused truck and would respond immediately.

- The clock ticked by and before they knew it, it was 11:59 and the faint rumble of an engine could be heard, the soft hiss of the brakes beneath her window.

- “In case I die,” she uttered, her face stoic and unmoving, “I want you to know- my name, it’s not 606. They wanted me to forget but I will never forget. My name is MC.”

- It was like a punch to his chest, the sound of her name. It ignited something in him that he never thought he would have the chance to feel, to experience. Not there. To find her there amongst all the sin and evil that they do, he knew how to spot a miracle when God sent one.

- “You’re not going to die MC, I promise,” he replied as he held her to him in a bone crushing embrace, “I promise.”

“Your name, 707- if I die, I want to know your-” “Didn’t I just say that you weren’t going to die MC?” he chuckled as her helped out of the window, “I, Saeyoung Choi, promise you.”

- The look on her face as she said his name would have been enough to take him to his grave. To see her face light up with joy and surprise as if someone had turned on a light inside of her, that would be one of his most treasured memories.

- His sharp ears caught the sounds of rushed footsteps down the hall.

- He pushed her roughly before she was ready and heard a loud snap of something when she fell onto the truck. MC was bowed forward, holding onto her right foot that had landed awkwardly and bent inwardly- her face contorted into silent screams.

- Saeyoung made the sign of the cross as he backed away from the window to do a run up. God please- I just found her- don’t take her away from me.

- He landed beside her, coiling his arms around her protectively as he laid her down to see the damage to her ankle- it was bad but nothing that some doctor couldn’t fix.

- He beamed down at her, cupping her face tenderly…

- As he tried desperately to ignore the barrage of agents chasing after the both of them.

- Saeyoung gently caressed her features with his fingers, desperate to feel everything under his touch, etch it into his mind.

- “You lie down here and keep safe okay? I’m going to go and hold them off-” “No! You can’t do that! They’ll torture you to death!” she cried sitting up, screaming out in pain as she accidentally moved her foot. He shushed her, looking forward to see that they were nearly clear of the base… she was so close to being free. “Shh, shhh- it’s okay MC. It’ll be okay. I promise,” he reassured her, his eyes crinkling so much that little droplets of tears dotted his auburn lashes. “No it won’t be-” “I’ll find you. I promise. I’ll find you.”

“Saeyoung!”

- He jumped off the truck and refused to allow himself to look back at her- if he did, he would never be able to leave her side.

- MC ignored the searing pain rushing up her leg to twist her body to watch her Soulmate’s noble sacrifice. One man, two, twelve men on him… he had no chance.

- “Saeyoung!” she croaked, her voice stifled by her despair.

- You promised…

- 707: WAIT

Yoosung: Why? Zen:?? 707: Think someone entered the chat room;;

Jumin: MC…?

- Saeyoung smiled to himself as he traced the location and turned on the camera.

- Promised I would find you.

Saeran:

- He had been searching for months under her orders. Months and no one was right. He was about to give up hope, that he would have to send in one of their own to infiltrate the damned RFA… but then she appeared.

- Like a gust of wind on a scorching day or the breath of air coursing through starved lungs- she blew into his life and turned it upside down.

- He would follow her and watch her from afar. He would tap in and listen to her conversations- not because he was interested in what she was saying- he just wanted to hear her voice.

- Her friend was laughing on the other line, “Oh… MC… you’re too much!”

- Saeran fell to the floor, his knees smarting from the hard concrete. No- NO!

- He crawled underneath his desk and curled up into a tight ball, his arms hugging his knees as he lightly rocked back and forth. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, made him jittery and on edge. No- he was warned against this. Was told that if he ever felt this that it was wrong, that he should only love the Saviour and their cause. That the call of someone else was evil, that it was the work of the corrupted

- But he was already corrupted, no matter how many times they drugged him and made him try to forget- he knew he was… but MC-

- She was perfect, absolutely perfect.

- Unfortunately, the Saviour agreed.

- It was hard to have something of your own in Mint Eye, something private, something sacred.

- He had to get her back.

- They had sent her to infiltrate an organisation full of desperate and lonely people- the most kind and innocent person sent into a den of wolves to feast upon. He had to save her.

- He was frantic, he sent her conflicting messages- wanting to scare her away from Mint Eye but wanting her to stay away from them- especially Saeyoung. If any of them saw even half of what he saw in her… they would steal her away.

- Finally the Saviour said it was time to claim their prize back, that since he was so good he could take her for himself- keep her safe himself. He was so happy. But when he got to the apartment, as he scaled the building and broke through the window to reach her… she was not as happy to see him.

- She was screaming. She was backing away from him. She was afraid.

- He couldn’t think straight- this wasn’t right. She was supposed to be happy to see him, to come with him willingly. Wasn’t that what Soulmates were about? The moment he knew her name-

- That was it… he knew her name but she didn’t know his… to her he was…

- “I’m from Paradise. You don’t know this but you were invited too… I know it took some time for me to come for you… now let’s go together… you look scared, don’t be. I won’t hurt you… endless parties, overflowing love, joy without pain… I’ll save you… You invited someone? Maybe… Luciel Choi?”

“MC- Are you hurt?” “I-I’m fine!” “I… I don’t know who you are… but let go of her!”

- No. Not Luciel. The actor. The pretty one. Of course she would fall for the pretty one.

- “No.” She’s mine. She’s meant for me.

“If you don’t, I’ll have to use force to protect my girl.” I don’t want to do this. “You move a single inch, you see this switch here? I’ll press it.” I won’t.

“What do you want?!”

- The truth then.

- “To escape this place safely with the RFA planner… If you don’t want to activate the bomb you better stay still. Just watch as I take… “your girl” and disappear.”

- The pain in his arm paled in comparison to the ache in his heart when she pulled away from him to run into the arms of another man. Away from him. Always away.

- Never his.

- Meant to be his.

- “My name… My name was Saeran.”

- It was the school for the rich and gifted.

- Some more rich and others more gifted.

- Most loved it there. Some merely tolerated it.

- One person hated it.

- Brought in through a scholarship to show how the school was “giving back to the community”, bringing in the charity case and parade them around like their latest trophy.

- Well this trophy didn’t like the case she was put in. She didn’t like the people who thought they could polish her up and make her shine to their standards. She didn’t like them at all.

- Especially those that shone the brightest- it hurt to look at them, like the sun- blindingly beautiful but dangerous.

- None shone more so than V.

- Pfft.

- Who the hell named their child V? What pretentious jackass does that?

- Wasn’t it enough that he went strutting around with his best friend, waving and talking to the more common folk? Wasn’t it too much that he went around taking photos of people and landscapes and saying pompous things like “everything is beautiful and everything is art?” Wasn’t it over the top that he had the gall to act all sweet and kind and look like some sort of bronzed Greek God? WASN’T IT?!

- MC breathed in trying to calm herself. For the better part of the last six months she had spent it running, hiding and keeping her distance from him. He seemed hell bent on seeking her out and trying to talk to her- well she wanted nothing from him! No help! No charity! No pity! Just to be left alone.

- During a study period, she was cornered by none other than that trust fund kid’s best friend, super-mega trust fund kid the first, Jumin Han.

- He chose the desk right next to hers although almost every other desk was available, which only meant he wanted to speak to her.

- “Why do you hate V?” he asked so bluntly she was surprised by it. She sat up from her prone position laying along the desk and twisted slightly to face the man to her left. She propped her head on her hand and gave him a long, pointed stare.

- “I… I don’t know. I just do. From his perfect hair to his perfect persona to, god even his name pisses me off! V! There are just some people that you’re not meant to get along with and he and I are obviously not meant to be besties,” she huffed as she rested the front of her torso back down against the desk, resting her chin atop her crossed arms.

- “I told him,” he clicked his tongue as he shook his head ruefully, crossing his arms like a disappointed adult to a child… or small pet. “I told Jihyun that you were certifiable. Who hates someone just because of what they can see? Without even getting to know them?”

- Her fingers dug into the worn wood of the table beneath her.

- Jihyun… now that was… that was a name she liked. Her breath escaped her lungs as she whirled around so fast she almost lost balance on her seat. That name made her feel soft and fuzzy and loved- she had never even met him and she was already in love with him. Jihyun, a good and noble man who wanted nothing more than to love and care for the woman he loved and to be loved and cared for in return. A man who would make them such horrible breakfasts on Sunday when they were married that they would inevitably go out and eat at a restaurant- yet he never stopped trying. Because he loved her and one day he wanted to get it right. A man who would stay in and read the paper to her as she lay in between his legs and slept on his chest- he wouldn’t even move at all for fear she’d wake or be disturbed.

- She loved that name.

- Her heart beat faster and suddenly she couldn’t control her extremities, her legs were bouncing up and down in excitement and her hands unsure of where to place themselves, every place awkward compared to the thought of her hands being linked with his. It didn’t feel right- to be on her own, not now she knew his name.

- “Who?” she meekly asked the ebony haired prince next to her. He was fiddling with a loose thread on his blazer sleeve, pulling at the strand until it came out completely. “Jumin- who?” she repeated hoping that her insistence would be enough to show him how important it was for her to know who this man was.

- He gave her a perplexed look, thoughtful eyes glided over her form as if he were trying to ascertain whether she was joking or not. His eyes widened and his mouth pressed into a thin line when he quickly realised that she wasn’t asking in jest, she was completely serious.

“Jihyun… Jihyun Kim is V’s real name. The man you so ardently hated?” he answered, his mouth twitching up into a wry smile.

- Damn it.

- MC violently pushed herself back from the desk with both hands before she started running to the last place she had seen V- Jihyun. He was entering the dark room just as she was heading to the study hall. The light was on meaning he was developing something… she should be patient…

- … but all those months… all those wasted months- how could he forgive her? She didn’t know but she had to try!

- The light flicked off and she knocked, waiting for him to call out that it was okay and that she could come it. She slowly opened the door and closed it behind her.

- Less than five steps away was Jihyun, pulling down some developed photos.

- He was right. Everything was beautiful. Everything was art.

- He was art.

- And she was just some dumb pedestrian trying to look at the piece and critique it without having all the history and facts behind it, not knowing the mastery it took to create it. The love that went into it. Fool.

- He turned to her and she swore that the blue of his eyes was just that little bit bluer, the tone of his hair that much deeper and his lips, full and perfect and so ready for her to kiss she couldn’t believe there was ever a time she wanted to slap his smile off. Now she’d do anything to keep it there forever.

- What’s in a name? Everything. What did Shakespeare know?

- “I… I’m so sorry,” she cried, prostrating herself in a deep bow.

- Startled, V set aside his print and pulled the bowing woman up and forced her to look at him. “What for? I’m not aware of anything you’ve done that would warrant an apology,” he replied good naturedly, his kind smile warming her to her bones. “I have been terrible to you and only because… for some unknown reason- I couldn’t stand your name. What it stood for, what you seemingly stood for,” she confessed, her cheeks burning under the harsh lights.

- V reached behind her and turned on the dark room red lights once again- to save her from embarrassment.

- “I know- it’s okay MC, you don’t have to explain. I know my name is the problem,” he admitted with a careless shrug. MC gawked at him, how could he know? How could he possibly know?! “I’ve known since the first day when I felt the bond but you did nothing but run away from me- I knew that my name was faulty and that although you may be my Soulmate- that I simply was not yours.”

- All this time, he thought he was the problem. That she didn’t love him because his name was faulty, that he was faulty.

- Her heart shattered and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying. She almost ruined this man, she continued to pile hurt upon hurt on him and now there she was telling her how much she loved him… well… that was what she wanted to do, whether or not she could do it not was the other question.

- “No… I… I was just stupid. I thought your name was V, not Jihyun. There was nothing wrong with your name- there is nothing wrong with you. I… just, wanted to let you know that. You’re amazing. You’re perfect and I want to get to know you, just as you are.”

- Even in the dark, the brightness from his smile could be seen.

- “You do?” the hope in his voice evident, taking the first steps to close the gap between them. “I do. I want the chance to know the real Jihyun,” she beamed. “I would love nothing more than that, MC,” he replied, encircling his arms around her body. - Well what do you know, they were a perfect fit.

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misadventures-phan-can · 7 years

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Complicated Acronyms

Canis lay on a mountain-like pile of blankets and sheets strewn about the floor in disarray, snoring. A tame growl escaped his lips at every exhale, tongue flicking his nose several times before lolling out from the corner of his maw. His partner, in the meantime, lay comfortably wrapped in a thick quilt, resembling a burrito, on her bed. She was a picture of innocent and restful sleep.

The morning came and went, the duo dreaming it all away, until a call on the high speaker across the ship jolted them awake. What was the message? They couldn’t say, but they were fully conscious by the time it was finished. Phantom groaned, unwrapping herself from her blanket-burrito and stretching out across the bed with a yawn. She lay there a few moments, recollecting her thoughts and gathering the will to get out of bed. “Mutt. You ‘wake bro?”

Canis looked at the high speaker, expression neutral, razor-sharp-teeth-filled jaws going wide- almost to the point of unhinging. He yawned and chuffed in reply before resting his head once more, ready to go back to sleep.

“Imf donwatan-gommfo.” He grumbled, eyes closed.

Phantom sighed looking over at him.

“I’m not even going to pretend to know what you said, but, yo- hey it's time to go.”

He barely replied, one could’ve said he didn't hear a word of it, if only for a flick of his feathered ears.

The girl’s eyes narrowed, and she hopped off the bed at the challenge. She readjusted her pajamas, and crossed her arms. “Come on Mutt. Time to get up. I’m sure we were expected on deck hours ago.” When Canis still did not answer, she took a hold of the biggest blanket in his pile and tugged with all her considerable might.

Instead of going tumbling to the cold space-grade steel floor, the Mimic kept his feet on the ground and spun around to grab the fabric in his jaws, catching her off-guard and almost making her lose her hold on the blanket. Quite an agile little creature he was. The Mutt held the blanket with his jaws and latched onto it with both his residual- but useful- 3rd set of paws.

Tommy veered quickly and yanked back, the blanket which went taut between them.

So started a game of afternoon tug-o’war.

“Oh you wanna go? You wanna go Mutt?!” She taunted gleefully, pulling at the blanket and dragging it from side to side in a bid to loosen her companion’s grip. The Mimic growled, clamping down harder. She refused to give ground.

The “game” went on for quite a bit. Tommy would drag Canis to one side and he would shake out the fabric so harshly it nearly knocked her down- before launching himself in another direction at full speed. Both refused to release the blanket. Both tried to fend off each other's attempts to destabilize them the best they could, even as their “rope” started to unravel at the seams. The Mimic struggled, claws clicking along the floor and accidentally knocking his bag over, spilling its contents in the process. Finally the pair both gave one last, vicious tug- the blanket promptly ripped in two, the stuffing inside exploding outward. Canis skidded across the floor along with his backpack, and Phantom hit the bed in a sprawled mess. Blanket guts floated around them, gently falling to the ground

Beads of sweat ran down Tommy’s face, Canis was panting heavily- both were grinning like idiots. They bursted out laughing- for they were truly a ridiculous sight to see.

“Yeah! That's what you get… I always did wonder what was in that bag… snacks…” Tommy muttered between breaths when she calmed down a bit, motioning to the packs of tiny bones, and eggshells, with the more commonplace treats of almonds, peanut butter, and water that had spilled out of Canis’ rucksack.

There was also a military-issue Galactic-Standard ID, and as Canis reached down to pick the small wallet-like identification up, something golden slipped out and flitted to the floor.

“What's that?” Tommy perked, curiosity glittering in her slate grey eyes. She hauled herself up and swept the item off the floor before Canis could retrieve it, looking over what she now realized was a ticket- to the Galaxy Express 999.

His ears swivelled towards her, the usual reaction when he focused in on one specific thing or another. The Mimic twisted his vocal cords slightly, too lazy to change appearance.

“Old memories… that’s the train ticket I used when I left Linus.” He motioned lazily with a paw, “I can remember almost everything… but sometimes having something like it helps. Galaxy Express 999, direct Linus to Tobito. I'm almost worried, some days, that I’ll forget.” He chuckled “I keep it with me… even if I don't know what it means exactly. They couldn't just make it simple…” He mutters reading off just some of the confusing letters. He was, of course, referencing the jumble of intergalactic-approved acronyms that the various powers of the universe used on official documents. Canis huffed, poking and sniffing at the ticket. Phantom chuckled.

“I can help with that… I learned most of ‘em by heart- you know, ‘cause I wanted to leave Melder asap.” The girl sat on the floor right next to the Mimic, atop some blankets, simultaneously picking a bit of stuffing out of her hair. “Ok so,” She pointed to the first line. Canis shuffled closer to see, head resting in the crook of her arm. Galaxy Express 999 - ticket #374 - Issued 17.03.3043 Std-G “It’s quite straightforward- train designation, followed by ticket number, and finally the Standard Galactic date it was issued. That’s what Std-G stands for. Standard Galactic… ‘Cause you know, every planet has different time, and dates, and all that stuff.” Canis chuckled. “Really? I hadn’t realized… I thought it meant something else.” Tommy scrunched up her nose in distaste. “You’re so nastyyyyyyy.” Her companion’s head tilted in the confused manner dog’s often displayed. “What?” She waved her hand. “Nevermind. Now this part-”

Joplin Station - Pier 23 - 1:30 Linus-Std Time Passenger: Canis L.L.L Familion Direct recruit - Cadet Class

“This part’s all pretty uncomplicated. Station and dock, where the train is supposed to be, and local-standard time of departure.”The mutt poked Tommy’s hand. “I know that. It’s just all those…. those…” “Acronyms? Come on Cancan, they’re handy! Beats writing so much all the time.” She turned back to the ticket, eyes narrowing in focus.

“You were a direct recruit? To the SDF?” She had moved along, to the last two lines.

Destination: SDF HQ, Tobito, Green Tea S-S, qd.234, Nautilus Galaxy ETA: 19.03.3043 Std-G

“Oh that one I know! SDF is the Space Defense Force, military power behind the Galaxy Railways, GR, and there’s a mini group within the SDF called the SPG, Space Panzer Grenadiers!” Canis grinned, as much as one could with a canine muzzle. His lips curled resembling a vague, happy snarl.

“I never knew that... or that you were in the SDF at all! You never said anything.” Tommy booped him on the nose, as if in revenge for not telling her. He shrunk back. “It was a little while ago…” He whined, trailing off and letting the conversation drop for a moment or two. Tommy’s eyebrows rose but she didn’t comment, wondering if she had overstepped or… something.

“Anyhow, the whole ‘Destination’ part is confusing. What is a ‘Green Tea S-S’? Or a ‘qd.234’? And what’s an ‘ETA’??” Canis huffed, twisting till he was lying on his back and looking at the ticket upside down.

Phantom distractedly started scratching under his chin. “Well, you see, destinations are stated as such: port, town or city- but that’s optional- planet, solar system- that’s what the ‘S-S’ is, quadrant of the galaxy, and galaxy itself. So, by what’s written here you were heading to the SDF HQ, on the planet Tobito, in the Green Tea Solar-System, in quadrant 234 of the Nautilus Galaxy.” Tommy frowned, going over what she had said and trying to see if she had forgotten anything.

Canis chuckled under his breath, the sound coming out as something similar to a friendly dooking, tapping his paws against the floor. “It's so weird that they named a Galaxy after an octopus…. Hey that means there's a Galaxy named after me!”

“Oh! ‘ETA’. That’s easy. Estimated time of arrival… And dates go by day, month, year by the way. Just so you’ll know.” It took a moment for Tommy to realize what he had said. “You? What do you mean mutt?”

“We be related to Nautilus… ses?? Nautili?? Octopi! We are related to Octopus…. Es….” He trailed off, vouching instead to loll his tongue and look up at Tommy with wide, adorable puppy eyes. Phantom ignored it. What a cold person....

“I had to do a lot of papers growing up…. Education… blahhhhhh!”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, no duh. You got into the direct recruits for the SDF! Education must’ve been a thing.”

“But I hateeeeeee reading and writing…” After all, mimic or not, animals were not designed to be able to communicate with symbols on a piece of bleached tree pulp.

“Oh stop whining mutt….” She sighed. “We should get ready now. Harlock’s gonna skin us alive enough as it is.”

~~Can Canis and Phantom please come to the deck? They are 5 hours late to the crew meeting, and the crew have been WAITING FOR LUNCH FUCKING-- Mii… what are you doing?- No. Noooo. Stop. Come on stop. No. Nn- DAMNIT.~~ The high speaker cut off with an ear-piercing shriek of microphone feedback.

“See, I told you. Now we’re in deep shit.” Phantom growled. Canis whined and ploppled back into the blankets with a groan.

#MoP&D #chasing phantoms #oneshot #Space Pirate Captain Harlock #MY OCs #friends ocs #chillingonthearcadia #fanfiction #Captain Harlock #this is an informative filler #because chapter 2 ain't done #lol #Mimics #shape shifter

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fanficwritingrequests · 4 years

Text

Netflix and Chill(ed Yoghurt)

Michael can't stop thinking about Eleanor. Fortunately(?) for him, Janet has a solution: Netflix! But it doesn’t quite work out how he wants it to.

Eleanor Shellstrop is not unique.

It's not an insult, Michael thinks, as he closes his eyes and leans back in his chair. It's a statement of fact. She's just another one of the seven billion humans populating Earth. Of that seven billion, there's thousands of other humans who are as terrible (if not more so) than her. Thousand of jerk-ass humans who had as much capacity for change as she did.

So no, she wasn't unique or special in any way.

At least initially.

The only thing that differentiated her from them was the fact that she actually changed. They all had the chance to do so, but it was only Eleanor (stubborn, determined, amazing, Eleanor, his mind interjects irritatingly) who actually did something about how much of an asshole she was. Granted, it took the knowledge of the afterlife, an ethics professor, two other humans, and the threat of eternal damnation to get her to take action, but hey- Who cares about the small details? The important thing is that in the end, she tried and succeeded to become a better person.

It wasn't as if it had been easy. Eleanor had literally everything going against her.

And when Michael says everything, he truly does mean everything. He threw every obstacle, every problem, every trick in the torture book, against her. If there was a way to torment her, Michael used it. Every single one of her weaknesses and flaws were dragged to the surface and stacked against her. He didn't pull his punches, and by all logic she should have crumbled like a badly built Jenga tower. It should have been, quite simply, impossible for her to improve.

But this was Eleanor Shellstrop, and she showed him that impossible was not a word in her vocabulary.

Against all odds, she changed. 802 reboots, and in every single one (the ones that lasted long enough, at least) she put herself on the path of good all on her own. It was in different ways every time, but the end result was the same. In each reboot, Michael did his damnedest to make her afterlife hell, but he also watched as she grew and learned and improved in spite of it all.

It was frustrating.

It was impressive.

But above all, it was fascinating.

There was something about her, that he could never tire of watching. Oh sure, the others were just as frustrating in their efforts to better themselves (Jason was both a delight and a terror to watch) but they didn't have the same... spark that Eleanor did.

She was in a category all on her own, and Michael didn't understand what it was that made her so special. He'd gone over this dozens of times (honestly he's lost count of how many times he thought about the Dilemma that was Eleanor), digging deep through her files and desperately searching for something to explain... well to explain her in all her unpredictability.

Every time he came up blank.

Eleanor Shellstrop was just your regular, boring, run-of-the-mill, human.

And yet she was extraordinary.

In his entire several thousand years of existence, he had never come across a more frustrating mortal.

If this had been a few days ago, he would have called her existence a curse, a bane on his immortal life, and he would have meant it completely.

Now though... Now he's not sure. He's not sure of anything anymore, except maybe that Eleanor was starting to mess with his damned head.

He drew in a sharp breath, disturbing the stillness of his office. This was the first time he's had any time to himself since Vicky had the gall to blackmail him. And of course, he would spend it thinking about Eleanor. Because that was just how pathetic he was nowadays.

It was all her fault (obviously. who else could it be? him? definitely not.) How could he not think of her after her attitude earlier? She just had to go and be amazing and aggressive and brilliant, didn't she? All the others had easily agreed to his offer of teaming up after he spoke, but her? Nope- she had to go and question everything first. Had to get up all in his face with that scarily gorgeous face of hers and threaten him.

Great. Now he can't even think of her negatively without paying her a compliment. The day was just getting better and better.

He needed a distraction. Something, anything, so long as it keeps him from thinking too much. The logical part of his mind tells him that this is absolutely a classic Shellstrop move (as Eleanor would say, and damn it he's thinking of her again- it would be nice if he could stop doing that-) which means it will do nothing to help him, and will probably make things worse.

Yep he's definitely ignoring that logical bit of his brain.

"Janet?" He calls out as he opens his eyes.

The neighborhood consciousness appears with a smile and the familiar boop which heralds her arrival.

"What can I do for you Michael?"

"What do humans do to distract themselves?" Humans were the great procrastinators, so they must have some good ideas. No other race could put off doing anything better than them.

"That depends on the state of distraction that you want," she states cheerfully, "Do you want a light state where you can immediately resume your previous tasks afterwards?" A book appears in her hand. "Or would you prefer something more along the lines of ignoring a current task to help relax?" A laptop with a playing video drops on top of the book. "Or an intense I-don't-want-to-remember-the-last-ten-hours sort of distraction?" Finally, several bottles of alcohol appear and somehow manage to be perfectly balanced on top of the laptop.

Michael blinks. The last one is tempting, but he doubts Vicky would approve of him getting inebriated and possibly spilling any secrets. He has to care about her opinion now that it actually matters, he thinks acidly.

"I'll uh, I'll go with the second option."

"Excellent!" Everything disappears from her hands, and a TV appears in front of her instead.

"This," she pats the top of the TV, "is connected to every channel and every tv provider to ever exist from the beginning of time until the present. It can also show any movie, series, animation, and various other types of media; just state your preference out loud."

She smiles and turns back to Michael. "Can I help with anything else?"

"No," he says, eager to wipe his mind blank, "Thank you."

When he switches open the TV, a somewhat familiar logo appears. He almost mistakes it for The Bad Place version called Tenflix (it only shows the top ten worst TV series of all time- in 144p), and manages to suppress a shudder. He's so sick of watching reruns of Baywatch. Thank god it's only Netflix.

One day, multiple series, numerous movies, and about 7 tubs of frozen yogurt later, he's taking back his thanks. What started out as a simple distraction has now become an all-consuming void which has sucked him in and refuses to let go. It's more dangerous than IHOP.

He was just starting on his eighth tub of yogurt when there was knocking on his door. If knocking was defined as extremely loud banging on a surface, then yes. There was knocking. A lot of it.

He would have stood up, but the warmth and comfort of his chair coupled with the blanket around his shoulders made a very compelling argument against the prospect of actually facing his responsibilities. So he did what any self-respecting demon would do.

He ignored the knocking.

Ten seconds (precisely, he counted) passed. Then: "MICHAEL WHERE THE FORKING HECK HAVE-" a very familiar voice yelled, and Michael was so shocked that he just... fell out of his chair. And dropped his tub of yogurt. Then fell into the yogurt, ruining his favorite shirt.

"...you...been..." Eleanor trailed off, blinking rapidly at the sight she was greeted with. They stared at each other for several seconds, unsure exactly of how to react.

Then Eleanor burst into laughter. As in the, full blown, doubled over, can barely breathe, kind of laughter. Michael just sighed and settled into the puddle of yogurt, completely resigned to his fate. So this was what humiliation felt like.

"Holy shirt," Eleanor wheezed, "Holy shirt. You should have seen the look on your face. I wish I could have taken a photo!" She slapped her thigh as she continued to laugh.

It took her a full two minutes to finally calm herself enough to be able to talk normally again; two minutes of which Michael spent marinating in cold product. It's not as disgusting as one would expect. It's- It's pretty comfy, actually, once you ignore the dampness. Oh, and the fact that his dignity has taken a nosedive and is now practically non-existent. not that much of it existed in the first place.

Eleanor, in a rare display of pity, (mock-pity, but pity nonetheless) stoops down to offer him her hand. Michael takes it, taking no small amount of satisfaction in smearing melted yogurt all over her palm. Petty, of course, but he's a demon. That excuses it, right?

(Hint: It doesn't)

"Oh come on ya big lump," Eleanor pulls him up forcefully, ignoring the way her clothes are getting stained, "Stop moping."

"I'm not moping," he insists, but she just rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." Ignoring his protests completely, she sets him down back in his swivel chair. He clamps his arms together and glares at her like a child. There is no heat in his gaze however, and Eleanor takes it all in stride.

"Hilarious as it is to see you like this," she gestures towards his ruined clothing, "we should probably get you cleaned up." She smiles at him, and his heart skips a beat.

Fuck. He's hopeless.

He stares at her for a moment too long, and she raises an eyebrow at him.

"What? Do I have something on my face? Aw shirt, did I get your stupid yogurt on my-" she wipes frantically at her cheeks with her sleeves.

Michael grabs her arm, gently, and gets her to stop. "No, you're fine! Great! Your face is great!- I mean,no, it's not-"

"My face isn't great?"

"No, it's beautif-" Yep, he's stopping that thought right there, "I mean- I mean..." If the ground could kindly swallow him whole right now, that would be fantastic.

Eleanor stares at him blankly as he continues to dig himself further into what he assumes is an early grave. Either he'll die of shame (an impressive feat for a demon), or Eleanor will kill him out of impatience.

Fortunately for him, neither of those things happen. Instead, she claps a hand against his forehead and asks, "You okay there dude? Are you sick? Wait, do demons even get sick? Do you get hell fevers? Oooh, maybe hell pneumonia?" she wrinkles her nose, "On second thought,maybe not. That sounds disgusting."

Her ramble gives him enough time to gather his wits. "No- No, Eleanor. We don't get sick. Not in the way you know at least."

"Mm. Okay," she shrugs, "Anyway. Back to you."

"Right. Well, there's no need to make this whole song and dance about it. I can just do this," he snaps his fingers, and he's back in his regular, clean clothes again.

"Oh. Yeah. Kinda forgot about that." For some indecipherable reason, she actually looks disappointed. But she quickly recovers and goes back to smiling again. "Well then, now that that's cleared up," she grabs his wrist and pulls him out of the chair. There's a lot of strength in that deceptively small frame, enough to make him physically stumble as she drags him out the door of his office.

"Hey- What the-" he protests, but the attempt is half-hearted at best.

"Don't think I forgot about you promising to go to Chidi's ethics class with me!" she throws him a mock glare over her shoulder, "If you think I'm going to suffer through another one of those classes alone- Then you've got another thing coming buddy."

Michael sighs internally. This is what his eternal life has come to. Being bossed around by one, tiny, stubborn, insignificant human.

But, he thinks, as he sits beside her in her Icelandic-fashioned house and watches her argue passionately with Chidi while Tahani and Jason watch on in amusement-

It's not really as bad as he makes it out to be.

This could be the start of something good.

#the good place #eleanor shellstrop #michael #michael the architect #hellstrop #michael x eleanor #eleanor x michael #non-request #fanfiction

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