#me: spends an hour working and excitedly checks my page count only to realize i’ve only written one (1) paragraph | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freddiesaysalright · 5 years

Text

My Man Part IV

A Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She met Roger Taylor when he brought his date backstage. They didn’t start off great, but a party at Freddie’s turned them around. Now, they’re friends.

Word Count: 2.1K

Tag List: @bohemian-war @kittygirlno @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @rockyroadthepastryarchy @goodoldfashionedloverboyy @jennyggggrrr @discodeacygotmorerhythm @x1975sos If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Part I Part II Part III

Over the coming weeks, your time with Roger became as sacred to you as the hours you were on stage each night. He was so open and fun and passionate, and he brought that out of you whether you realized it or not. In the years after losing George, you became a ghost. A shadow of a woman who went through the motions. You only showed energy on stage. With Roger, you were alive. You were an active participant in your spirit flourishing. Even Gary told you that your Fanny Brice was improved. You sang more soulfully, your jokes hit harder, and your tears meant more.

You could not place when exactly Roger had done this for you. But you guessed it was the slow chipping away at the wall around your heart. It had taken years to build. Now came this idiot drummer with a good smile and wicked humor. It made you incredibly happy but more conflicted than ever.

You could not deny your attraction to him after that first of several erotic dreams about him. Even when you were awake and he touched your arm or hugged you, you thought about what it would be like. Not only to make love to him, but to be his. To give him your heart completely.

Then you remembered George. True, it had been years, but he was the only man you’d ever been with. And you thought the love you shared with him was once in a lifetime. When he died, you told yourself there was no way you could ever feel that again. But with Roger, you felt the butterflies and the happiness. It was less hopeful than with George, since you were terrified of being hurt more than ever. Your heart was beaten and battered and you did not think you could take it if you lost Roger too. All the emotions would hit you at once and you’d get so overwhelmed. Weirdly enough, the person to calm you down was always Roger.

You also hung out with the band a lot. They were always popping over to each others’ places and spending time, even outside the studio. It was very sweet.

One day, you were at Roger’s and he was playing around on the drums. You liked to watch him play because his focus was incredible. You got to see how seriously he took his craft. It reminded you of all your late nights going over lines or pushing your voice to hit a note just once more. You had never realized how much went into drumming before.

“How do you do that?” you wondered aloud.

He stopped. “Do what?”

“Look so effortlessly talented.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you joking?”

“No!” you assured him. “You just make it look so easy.”

“It’s not,” he replied, smiling a little. “But don’t you think you do the same thing?”

“I don’t look like I’m having nearly as much fun,” you said.

“I disagree.”

“Could you teach me?” you asked suddenly.

His face lit up like the Fourth of July. “Hell yeah!”

He beckoned you over and let you take a seat behind the drum set. He stood behind you and guided you through a couple beats from Queen songs. You struggled through it, often doing the same thing with both hands.

Chuckling, he said, “Let me help you.”

He wrapped his hands around yours and moved them for you, slowly. His touch was soft and warm and you could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned over you. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Then he watched you attempt it again. You couldn’t help but notice the way he bit his lip watching you play. After a few more tries, you got it on your own.

“I nailed it!” you cried, excitedly. “But seriously, I don’t know how you do this.”

“Years of practice,” he returned. “Just like you, I expect.”

“That’s true.”

“Can you teach me something?” he asked, a sly look on his face.

“What could I possibly teach you?” you returned.

“Teach me to dance,” he said.

“I suppose I can try,” you agreed. “Move the couch back and I’ll move the coffee table.”

You did so, and it left ample space for the pair of you. He met you in the center of the room, and you were barely a foot from one another. You moved to adjust his arms for his frame before coming to stand in front of him again.

“Have you ever done the foxtrot?” you asked.

“Never in my life,” he told you.

“Okay,” you said with a laugh. “It’s not too difficult, I swear.”

You showed him the basic steps; what to do on which count and how to hold his frame. You felt a bit flushed at times when he was holding you so close. You took a turn about the room, and he finished with dipping you, causing you to laugh.

“Very good!” you praised as he led you upright again.

“Have I swept you off your feet?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll just have to keep working on it then,” he said.

“Let’s put the furniture back,” you said.

Just when his living room was returned to its usual state, the door burst open. In walked Freddie, John, and Brian. They looked at Roger expectantly.

“What is it, guys?” he asked.

“Did either of you read the latest issue of In Tune?” Brian asked.

In Tune was a gossip magazine specifically about musicians. It was generally considered garbage, and yet they still sold out on shelves. Even a fake scandal was better than nothing, apparently.

“No,” you answered. “My eyes happen to be attached to my brain.”

Roger sniggered. John tossed you the magazine.

“You two made the front page,” he said.

“What?!” you gasped, looking at the cover.

It was true. There was a photo of you and Roger leaving a movie theater. The headline read, “Roger Taylor’s New Flame! A Secret Wedding?” In the corner, they had placed a close up of your left hand where your wedding ring was visible.

“Alright, Y/N, front page!” Roger joked, offering his hand for a high five.

You gave it to him, grinning. “Tony’s be damned, this is the greatest accomplishment of my life!”

They all laughed.

“How did you find this?” you asked.

“Saw it on the news stand,” Brian explained.

“I was just so thrilled they weren’t talking about me for once,” Freddie added.

“Did you read the article?” you wondered.

“No, we figured we’d wait and share that with you,” Freddie said.

You checked the cover and saw that the story was on page thirteen. Eagerly, you flipped to it and began to read aloud; “Roger Taylor, drummer for the infamous rock band Queen, was spotted coming out of a London cinema with a mystery lady last weekend. We suspect the pair eloped and have been together for months, as Taylor has not been seen in public with the usual amount of bimbos around him - now, that’s rude - for several weeks. Also, the new woman wears a plain band on her left ring finger. Could it be the playboy drummer has settled down at last? We intend to find out more! - Ugh it just goes on about women you’ve taken out before.”

“Do they really not know you’re the star of a West End show?” John wondered, taking the magazine and scanning it. “That seems rather ignorant.”

“That’s In Tune for you,” you said. “All about the rock stars and disco divas. Nothing about us poor, untalented Broadway performers.”

“It does mention you were seeing Grease,” John pointed out.

“Well, that is vital information,” Brian said.

Freddie looked at Roger. “Really? Grease?”

“She likes musicals!” Roger returned indignantly. “Also it was a cheap, late night showing.”

“A right Prince Charming, you are,” Brian remarked.

“Shut up,” Roger retorted.

“Really, you’d think you could splurge for the new Mrs,” you chimed in.

“Alright, next time I’ll take you to Paris,” he said. “How’s that for romance?”

“Can we still go see Grease though?” you said through a laugh.

“Sorry, but John Travolta’s head is too large for his body and it freaks me out,” he replied.

You giggled. “What the hell?”

“It’s just a thing,” he said with a shrug.

“My darlings, we’ve got to be at the studio,” Freddie interrupted. “We’re already late.”

“Only ‘cause we picked you up first,” John said.

Freddie grinned and then looked at you. “Would you like to come along?”

You shook your head. “I’ve got to get home before I head to the theater.”

“Want me to walk you home, Y/N?” Roger offered.

“No, thanks, I can make it,” you said.

“Have a good show,” he told you.

“Break a leg, darling,” Freddie said. “And come have dinner with us when it’s over.”

“You’ve got it, Mr. Mercury,” you promised.

You left after hugging them all. As you walked, you reflected. Each time you left Roger, your guilt subsided a little. You felt lighter than air as you entered your own flat. But your thoughts were interrupted when your phone rang.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Y/N,” the voice on the other end of the line was your agent, Stephen. “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, what’s up?” you asked.

“I’ve got incredible news for you,” he said. “There’s a production of Oklahoma in the works for here on West End, and the director is in town today. He called me and asked if you’d be willing to try for the part of Laurie!”

You nearly dropped your phone. Laurie was your dream role. The one that made you want to be an actress in the first place.

“You still there?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, a little breathless. “I’m just - you know how I feel about that role!”

“I do, dear!” he returned. “I’m so excited for you! Can you meet him tomorrow at his hotel room?”

You froze. Meeting a stranger at his hotel room seemed odd. It was far from professional. You normally met a director or producer at a theater if they didn’t have an office.

“Is everything okay?” Stephen asked. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but he’s heading to America in three days to meet with the guy he wants for Curly. If you want me to tell him you can’t - ”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll go there,” you said, trying to sound more easy about it than you were.

“Great, I’ll let him know,” he said. “He wants to meet at two.”

He gave you the address and you wrote it down. You thanked Stephen and when you hung up, you squealed.

“I’m going to be Laurie!” you cried, pumping your fist in the air.

Later that night, you met up with Roger and the guys for dinner like you promised. As soon as you got to the restaurant, you ran to Roger and leapt into his arms. He spun you around and kissed your cheek.

“What’s got into you?” he wondered.

“I got the best news before the show tonight,” you said.

You explained to them what your agent said and they congratulated you. Roger was silent, though.

“What?” you asked.

“I don’t like the idea of you meeting him in a hotel room,” he said. “It’s sketchy.”

“Come on, Rog, you heard what she said,” Brian said, comfortingly. “It’s an unusual circumstance. I’m sure they’ll meet again properly, but she’s got to get her foot in the door.”

“Thank you, Mr. May,” you said, and then turned back to Roger. “Can’t you just be supportive?”

He frowned but agreed. “Of course. Congrats, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you returned, but the tension remained the rest of the night.

When dinner was over, Roger did walk you home. As you fell in step beside him, his silence made you crazy. It felt childish but you refused to be the first one to speak. If he had a problem with how you handled your career, that was on him. You had nothing to apologize for.

“Can I see that address again?” he said, coming to an abrupt stop.

It was an odd way to begin an apology, but you obliged. You fetched the slip of paper from your bag and handed it to him.

“This is right around the corner from the studio,” he said. “Will you come by afterward and tell me how it goes?”

You beamed. “Of course I will!”

“Wonderful,” he returned and then gave you the directions. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

“You know me,” you said. “I’m always careful. Plus, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need protecting. Okay?”

With an irritated sigh he said, “Okay.”

“Thank you,” you returned. “Now, get me home, I’m getting cold.”

He didn’t reply, but took you under his arm for the rest of the walk.

#queen #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy x reader #ben!roger x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #ben hardy #ben!roger taylor #ben!roger imagine #roger taylor #roger taylor x you #queen fanfic #queen imagine #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #rami malek #gwilym lee #joe mazzello

215 notes · View notes

poor-sickies · 5 years

Note

For Bingo can ya do Allura hiding an injury :D

I actually wanted to post this request on Christmas… but I wasn’t able to.

To be truthful, between school, health issues and just lack of motivation in general, I’ve been having a hard time writing lately. I have ideas and more ideas, but actually writing and going through with them has been very tiring for me.

That being said, I do enjoy writing very much, and I find it does help me a lot being creative in other areas, and writing this bingo has helped me want to improve more and more. I still love getting prompts in my inbox and writing for them, even if it does take a little while.

So the prompt was directed to Allura, but I accidentally whumped everyone as well, I hope you don’t mind. I find the writing in this one is a little rougher, but I decided it would be best to publish it now and move on than to dwell on it and possibly not post it ever.

I hope you like it!

@badthingshappenbingo

family

word count. 6227 words

prompt: hiding an injury

Read on ao3

Waking up to blaring alarms had weirdly become routine.

Lance rolls over in bed with a groan, before getting up and dressing his paladin armor. Before leaving the room to run for the bridge, his hands wander to the little handmade calendar. It’s only when he turns the page that he realizes.

It’s Christmas Eve.

He wants to think about his family, gathered around a Christmas tree. His mother’s sweets, the kids opening their presents…

But Allura’s voice over the speakers sounds urgent, and he’s forced to push his thoughts to the back of his mind, as he runs out of the room.

They weren’t accounting for another one of Haggar’s robeasts and a swarm of druids.

They hadn’t had such a rough mission in a while, and even though they defeated the monster, there is a lot of damage to be dealt with. Half the castle is in the dark, after a few powerful hits without the particle barrier. After landing her pod back in the hangar, Allura drags herself to the bridge to make a wormhole jump to a peaceful galaxy, and, one by one, the lions get back to the hangars.

The paladins, though, take a little longer coming out.

Lance is first, climbing down Blue’s ramp with slow steps, his left hand clutching his right shoulder. Then there’s Shiro, limping down the railway out of Black.

“Guys,” Shiro asks out through the comms, “is everyone alright? Keith, Hunk, Pidge? Lance and I are out here, how banged up are you?”

“Hold on,” Hunk says, with a strained voice, “I think I did something to my back.”

Yellow opens up, and Hunk ambles out, favoring his left foot, back immobile and weirdly straight.

“Damn it,” he says, “we need to get Keith and Pidge and head to the cryopods.”

“Paladins!” Coran exclaims, running through the hangar door. “Are you okay?”

“Get five cryopods ready,” Lance moans, “we all need-ah! My arm-” he winces, rubbing the skin near his hurt shoulder. “We all need medical attention.”

“Keith and Pidge are still in their lions, we gotta get to them first,” Shiro decides, ready to make a move for Red. “None of them are answering their comms, so we don’t know how bad it is. Coran, go get Pidge.”

“Right here, guys,” Pidge’s voice sounds, both from the comms, and from Green, almost muted out. She’s ambling, one arm holding across her chest. With the other hand, she holds her helmet, trembling, almost as if it’s too heavy for her to handle, and it’s noticeable to everyone how pale she looks.

“Pidge!” Lance calls. “Are you okay?”

“I think I need a cryopod, but I’ll be fine,” she breathes out, unable to hide her pained grimace. “I probably messed up something in my thorax.”

“Alright, hold on, Pidge, we gotta go get Keith”, Shiro says, hobbling towards the red lion, “I think he was hit when we were down there. Either that, or when we flew out.”

“No, Shiro,” Coran stops him, with a hand grabbing his shoulder, “stay here, I’ll go get him. That leg doesn’t look good.”

Shiro sighs, impatiently. “Please be quick,” he pleads.

Coran nods, ready to fulfill his promise, and walks briskly to the inside of the red lion.

Lance walks up to Pidge’s side and helps her up with his good arm.

“Damn, you don’t look good, Pidge,” he winces as they both walk down the ramp, “was it when they threw you across the room?”

“Yeah,” she gasps, “I think I broke a rib.”

“It’s alright,” he assures her, “just lean on me.”

Keith comes out of the red lion, an arm around Coran’s neck. There’s blood on his forehead, and he keeps his head lowered, trying to avoid the light.

Coran keeps walking down, attentive and worried eyes on Keith. “We have to go down to the infirmary. The main control panel is completely destroyed-“

“What?!”

“Can you fix it?” Shiro asks.

“I can,” Coran sighs, “but it will most likely take a few days at least.”

“Oh no,” Hunk grimaces, “we’re all - all five of us are injured, we have no power-“

“We have some power, the lights are still working on the upper wing-“ Coran argues, still holding Keith upright.

“We’re standing in the dark right now, Coran,” Hunk continues. “I really hope none of us need anything too bad from the infirmary. Isn’t there any way to transfer the power to the cryopod room?”

“I’m afraid not. It’s two different cables, and if we shut down the upper wing, we might not get the power running again until we fix the whole panel.”

“How is Keith?” Shiro asks, walking closer to help Coran, hopping on one leg.

“He was unconscious when I went in, but he’s responsive now.”

“I’m okay,” Keith groans with eyes closed, “just hit my head.”

“Alright, let’s hurry then,” Coran ushers them towards the door, “no need to stand in this cold hangar for any longer.”

“Great,” Lance scoffs, dragging himself behind the others. “Guess we’ll spend Christmas in bed.”

“All done, number one,” Coran says as he finishes tightening the last strap of Shiro’s boot.

It’s a bad sprain, but he can still limp around if he’s careful enough. Coran had insisted on getting a pair of crutches, but Shiro had refused. It doesn’t hurt that badly, and he prefers being able to move on his own.

“Thanks, Coran.” He gets up slowly, hands braced against the mattress. “I should go check on-“

“No need!” Coran interrupts him, lifting a finger through the air. “The other Paladins have been cleared by me, none of them have life-threatening injuries, and they are all currently sleeping in their respective rooms, as you should be doing as well.”

Shiro stops a little to consider. He can’t say Coran he’s wrong. And battered as he feels, some hours of rest do sound wonderful.

“Alright,” he concedes, “I’ll rest now, and do that later.”

Not long after Shiro leaves, it’s Allura who walks in. Her hair is messed up and her face looks drawn and tired.

“How much longer, Coran? For the cryopods?”

Coran lifts up his face to look at her, from where he hangs in one of the cables of the control room, with a pensive face.

“Ah, well, considering the damage we took in the control panel… I’d say at least a few days, princess.”

A few days. She can handle a few days.

Coran looks concerned for a second, and lowers himself down from the cables, to stand in front of her. “I checked for the Paladins’ injuries earlier. They need rest, and a pod when they’re available, but none of it is life threatening. They will be fine.”

Allura sighs. “I know, Coran, I just-”

She stops herself. Coran knows her too well, and she’s not telling him everything. She fears that a simple misstep will be telling enough of what’s wrong. “…I worry about them.” She ends up saying.

Coran’s expression turns more sympathetic. “It’s a feeling we share,” he says, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “but they are strong. They will be okay. As I said, there are no life-threatening injuries, just some broken limbs and scrapes. We’ll let them rest and take care of them, until the cryopods are fixed. One of the most important things for humans to heal is affection and comfort. When the cryopods are ready, they will be feeling a lot better already!” He exclaims excitedly, turning around to go back to work.

Affection and comfort, she thinks. I can do that.

“Thank you, Coran.”

Allura twists her heels to walk towards the door, decided and focused. She had a mission at hand, and she would start it right now.

“Oh, and Princess?”

She stops and tilts her head sideways, not quite turning around.

“Get some rest yourself. It was a rough mission.”

“I will,” she answers, but the feeling of guilt in her chest grows. Lying to Coran doesn’t make her feel better, but it has to be done.

The other paladins are in each of their rooms after being sent away to rest by Coran. Following their simulated Earth cycle, on a normal day they would be having dinner by now. Today, however, it seems they will be eating in their rooms later, if at all.

Allura goes in her room quickly, closes the door, after making sure the hallway is empty, and takes out the roll of bandages she had hidden under her sleeve. With an arm around her back, she unzips her suit and pulls it down gingerly.

Standing in front of the mirror, the wound looks a bit worse than it feels. It’s not too big, but it glows purple.

Druids.

They had been attacked by a group of them, while infiltrating the Galra base. It was a relatively small ship, still under construction. It was loaded with quintessence, and it would be used for experiments, once it was built. Lance and Pidge had gone in first, but once they came across the druids, they immediately called for help. Shiro, Hunk and Keith came, and even Allura left the castle to help a while later.

The Galra ship had also damaged the control panel of the castle. At least the food machine and the cryopods were under reparations.

And in the end, they’d only managed to damage the ship and take down half the druids.

Allura isn’t quite sure why she doesn’t tell anyone about her injury - it’s partly because of how guilty she feels about the whole situation. She had stayed in the Castle for a while, helpless, as she heard the others from the comms, until she couldn’t take it. What if she had gone earlier? Could she have prevented the others from getting hurt? Could they have taken down more druids? Her life force is connected to Voltron, and she feels as if she should have somehow protected them better, instead of sending them to the ground like soldiers.

But she’s here now. If she wasn’t able to protect them, she will do her best to keep them comfortable now.

So Allura takes off her suit and runs a wet tower through her body. The wound glows and pulses, across her side. She disinfects it, hissing at the pain, and bandages her torso. Once everything is more or less clean, she dresses her most comfortable dress, blue with some lilac details, and leaves her room.

The paladins all had their rooms in the same hallway, fortunately. She makes a small detour to grab five water packs and makes her way there.

First, she goes to Shiro - the closest room to hers and probably the easiest to help.

“Shiro?” She calls out quietly, standing outside the door.

“Come in,” he says from inside, voice low and muffled.

Allura opens the door quietly, closing it after her.

Shiro lays, legs tangled around the blankets. It’s oddly unusual seeing him like this, out of his clothes and in his pajamas, eyes bleary and tired from sleep, leg encased in the black boot propped up in a pillow.

“How are you feeling?” She asks gently.

He smiles, thankful for Allura’s concern.

“I’m okay. I think I just need some rest. But thank you.”

Allura considers. There isn’t much she can do for his sprain, but she winces when she remembers how bruised his back looked when Coran was checking him up at the infirmary.

“Maybe some ice for your bruises? And for your ankle?” She suggests, “I can bring it to you.”

Shiro does a half smile and nods.

“That would be nice,” he says, closing his eyes. “How are the others doing?”

“I will check on them. They’re all resting in their rooms now.” She stands up, slowly. The change of position makes her breath hitch. Her wound isn’t hurting too bad, but it’s definitely not pleasant when she feels the muscles underneath pull like that. “I will be back with your ice in a bit, alright?”

“Thank you, princess”, Shiro thanks her softly.

Allura closes the door behind her, taking a deep breath. Now she just has to check on all the others. Hopefully her wound won’t trouble her too much.

She moves on to the next room, Hunk’s, and knocks on the door.

“Yeah?” She hears from inside, his voice raspy and tired, but still warm.

“Hunk, it’s Allura,” she calls out with a gentle voice. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Hunk says. She steps in, and he doesn’t look much better than Shiro. He lies on his back, posture stiff and rigid, his left foot laying across the mattress, wrapped in bandages. Despite the tense lines in his brow, he still smiles at her.

“How do you feel?” She asks, before lowering herself onto the mattress when he shifts aside to give her space.

“Ahh, my back is really sore,” he winces, “but I’ll be fine.”

At least Hunk is honest right away. But this time, Allura is at a loss of what she can do to help.

“Do you think some more pillows would help?” She tries, “I could bring them to you.”

Hunk considers the offer with a half shrug - or the closest he can manage right now. “I don’t think that would do much of a difference… a heating pack would be awesome if you had one, though.”

“Oh, I do!” She perks up, beaming. “I’ll get it right away!”

Hunk chuckles fondly, face a little more relaxed. “Thank you, Allura. It’s not urgent, though, I’m holding up okay.”

She nods. “I will check on the others, and then I’ll bring it.”

“How are they doing?” Hunk asks. “Keith looked really bad after that hit on the head… Pidge was in a lot of pain as well… and I’m pretty sure Lance dislocated something-”

“They’re fine, from what I know… mostly the same as you,” she answers, looking down.

Hunk sighs. “Yeah, what a shame this all happened right in Christmas Eve. Lance was so happy this morning-“

“Christmas Eve?” Allura questions, cocking her head to the side in confusion. The term isn’t entirely unfamiliar, especially coming from Lance, but she isn’t very knowledgeable in Earth customs, despite the frequent conversations with Lance.

“Uh, yeah, it’s an Earth celebration,” Hunk explains, “one of the best there is, unless you prefer Halloween, of course, but that’s Pidge - uh, yeah, it’s one of Lance‘s favorites.”

“And what do you do in that Christmas exactly?”

“We just gather our family together, eat together and swap presents, usually, but I think every family does it a little different. It’s a religious thing, but plenty of non-religious people celebrate it as well.” He looks down, chuckling, nostalgia ripping at his heart. “Back home I used to help my mother bake Christmas cakes… I was thinking of trying to make some today, but-“, he points to himself vaguely, “I can’t really cook much.”

“I’m sorry, Hunk,” Allura says sadly, “perhaps we can celebrate on another day.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he sighs, “that would be nice.”

The room is dark, only with Keith’s bedside table allowing her to see where she’s going.

Keith lies on his back, the bandage around his head barely noticeable against his pale skin. He looks sick and in pain, and Allura reminds herself not to be too loud.

“Keith… how do you feel?” She whispers, lowering herself beside him, “is there anything I can do?”

He frowns, an unsuccessful attempt at trying to keep his face neutral.

“I’m okay. Just trying to get some sleep.”

“I’m sorry…! I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no, it’s okay - I’m fine Allura, really,” Keith insists. “I was awake already.”

“I can still help you… Maybe some ice for your head?” She suggests, “I can bring it to you.”

Keith seems to consider it for a moment, before giving a short nod, that he regrets right after when pain shoots up through his temples.

“That would be nice,” he says, closing his eyes. “The others…?”

“I’ve seen them. They’re all resting in their rooms now.” She gets up, trying to be light on her feet. The change of position makes her breath hitch. Her side stings now, and her skin feels hot and sweaty around it. She takes a deep breath, as silently as she’s able to, and turns to Keith again. “I will be back with your ice in a bit, alright?”

“Thank you, princess”, Keith thanks her softly as she leaves.

Pidge‘s room is right around the corner, but Allura has to stop before she goes in. The pain is a lot worse now, making her breath hitch in her throat. The pain is getting gradually unbearable, and moving around from room to room hasn’t been helping much.

She takes another deep breath, trying to settle herself and push the pain to the back of her mind.Her team needs her. She steps in very carefully, trying to manage her weight, and not press too hard on her right side.

Pidge lays curled up in a little ball, holding her broken ribs with her small hand, face buried in the pillow.

“Pidge,” she calls out. Pidge‘s position is alarming for Allura. She’s tough, but laying like this, she looks incredibly fragile and small, and it makes her heart ache. She’s so young. She wouldn’t be fighting in a war and getting hurt. Allura walks closer, fighting off the tears at the corners of her eyes.

Pidge shifts a little, wincing, as she turns her head to face Allura.

“Oh? Hey Allura,” she croaks out quietly.

“Hi Pidge.” Allura sits down at the end of the bed, placing a gentle hand on Pidge’s leg. “How are you feeling?”

“Hmm,” Pidge considers, “you know, Keith and Lance are always breaking their ribs… they get hurt a lot, right? When it’s Shiro or Hunk you know they broke something worse, but…yeah, Keith and Lance, they just break ribs all the time, and they’re fine and okay… my point is, you’d think broken ribs don’t hurt a lot, right?”

“I’ve never broke a rib, Pidge,” Allura says, “but Keith and Lance have a good pain tolerance.”

“Yeah,” Pidge agrees, shifting again with a grimace, “well. I don’t,” she lets out, closing her eyes and drawing out her breath. “My chest really hurts.”

Allura rubs her leg in soothing circles. “Oh, Pidge,” she says, “I can bring you some ice. And maybe a couple more pillows?”

Pidge turns over again. “Thanks, Allura,” she hears, muffled by the pillow.

“It’s no problem,” Allura reassures, before standing up. “Just hold on.”

Coran had told them to rest before, and Lance can’t exactly say he was against the idea. Hell, he’s not against it now, but laying on his back with his arm trapped in a sling, staring at the ceiling isn’t exactly entertaining.

All he can think about is Christmas. And with Christmas, comes the inevitable memories of his family.

He sighs. Compared to what he’s been through, a dislocated shoulder isn’t that bad, but it still aches and bothers him.

Not celebrating Christmas is a hard blow as well. He had been halfway through convincing Hunk to bake some Christmas foods this morning, but in the state they are all in, any celebrations are probably off the table. So maybe he’s better off closing his eyes and forgetting about it.

But…

He needs a distraction. Trying to forget about Christmas feels like trying to forget about his family. He needs to at least try to honor this tradition. His parents and siblings are probably together right now, and the best he can do is celebrate as well. It feels like it can bring Lance closer to them somehow.

So he gives himself a new project.

*“Hey, Coran,” Lance asks from the doorway, pajama top hanging off his good shoulder, “do you have any paper? Like for decorations?”

Coran looks up from the panel he’s working on and ponders, two fingers stroking his moustache. “Paper, huh? Well, we might have some in one of the storage rooms… what do you need it for though?”

“It’s Christmas Eve!” he smiles.

“That holiday with the large bearded man…?”

“Yes!” Lance exclaims, before sighing, as his face drops to a sad expression. “I - I know it’s probably not a good time, after how this mission went, but… it kinda feels wrong not to celebrate it… and it would lift the mood I guess?”

“Well, I’m not making much progress with the panel right now… I still need a few things to finish loading, so…if you’re really up to it…” Coran puts down the screwdriver and gets up. “Let’s get to that storage room.”

“Just one last room,” Allura thinks, “then I’ll take a break.”

She had stopped by the kitchen first and brought Hunk a heating pad (which he had been incredibly thankful for), and some ice for Shiro, Keith and Pidge. Lance had seemed okay enough, hence why she had left him for last, but she still feels guilty for it. After all, he is still injured and alone.

But no point on blaming herself any longer. She’s determined to make him feel a little better.

To her surprise, Lance isn’t in his bed. instead, he sits on the floor, with various types of paper around him, a couple of pencils and a pair of scissors in his good hand.

He lifts his head up and smiles, putting down the scissors. “Oh, hey Allura!”

“Hello, Lance,” she greets, “I thought you would be resting…”

“I did, but it got kinda boring,” he gives a half shrug.

A wave of dizziness hits her suddenly, and she reaches for the wall. With careful steps, she lowers herself to sit down in Lance’s bed, barely managing to conceal the wince as her side burns, the pain spreading outwards to the rest of her abdomen and chest. “What are you doing?”

“Just some decorations for Christmas,” Lance chuckles. “If Keith wasn’t feeling so bad, I’d ask him, he’s the artsy guy… but I checked on him a while ago, and there’s no way he’d be up to it. I’m bad enough at crafts with my dominant hand, imagine what this will look like with my left, but at least it’s something, right?” He asks, and holds up one of the Christmas tree cutouts in green paper. “They don’t look that bad, do they?”

She guesses they‘re trees, by the shape, green and looking like the ones in Olkarion. They’re maybe a little lopsided, but with the little accents in red and yellow, they do look nice. “They’re very pretty, Lance.”

“Thanks, Allura,” he says. In a second, his smile fades and he frowns. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

“I - I’m fine, Lance,” she stutters. The dizziness hits her again, and she sees white spots, as the pain sharpens in her side, making her double over with a whimper.

“You don‘t look fine.”

Lance gets up and places a hand on her shoulder.

“Did you get hurt too?” He asks, moving side to side, to check for anything that doesn‘t look right.

The pain makes her shiver and sweat, and hiding doesn’t seem like much of a real option anymore. Under Lance’s attentive gaze, and judging by the way she can’t seem to sit straight, Allura knows she can’t keep lying much longer. But there’s still a chance she can make it to her room, get some rest and come back later. No one needs to know.

“I‘m okay, Lance,” she insists, before getting up, “I should get going, I - ah!”

“Allura!”

Lance catches her on time, with his good arm, but he‘s caught by surprise, and his whole weight gets dragged down with her, his hurt shoulder hitting the floor. Allura falls on his lap, her head against his chest.

She looks pale, sweaty, face twisted in an expression of pain.

“That‘s it, I‘m calling Coran,” Lance says. He looks around frantically, and reaches for a pillow, before placing it on the floor and lowering Allura‘s head into it. “I’ll be right back, just hold on.”

To say Coran had been worried would be an understatement. Seeing Allura lying on the floor, pale and struggling to breathe normally had set off a panicked reaction Lance hadn’t seen in him before.

Between the both of them, they manage to lead her to the infirmary. Her wound is dressed properly, and Coran sets up a little bed for her. By the time Coran finishes checking up Lance’s shoulder for the second time, Allura sleeps in her bed, looking peaceful enough.

“Allura will be fine,” Coran says with a sigh. “She’s needs to rest now, but hopefully she’ll be able to eat something later.”

Lance sits in one of the chairs, shoulders slumped forward, looking down. “I wonder why she didn’t say anything… it’s not like we have such a big threat on us right now…? Right? We’re in a peaceful galaxy, and with all of us like this, it’s not like we could exactly go anywhere to fight the Galra…”

“She did seem quite upset about all of you getting hurt today,” Coran points out, remembering his last conversation with her. “Let’s hope she feels better soon… how’s your little earthling celebration coming about?”

“Eh, I’m halfway through decorations… just need the food, but I’ll probably need Hunk… and Pidge for the lights…” Lance considers. “Hmm…”

“Maybe they can still help,” Coran suggests, “I’ll even join you after I’m done with this panel… a little celebration would be great to lift our spirits up a little after this terrible day.”

“Thanks, Coran.” Lance walks to the door. “See you later.”

“Hunk! Buddy!”

Hunk shifts in the mattress with a groan and reaches for the blanket to cover his head.

It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy Lance’s happy voice – he just doesn’t enjoy it right now.

It has been a few hours after today’s disastrous mission, and Hunk is currently suffering from post-nap drowsiness. Besides, waking up has brought back the ache in his back, and his foot feels stiffer than before.

Lance steps inside anyway, stopping in front of the bed.

“Hey, Lance.”

“So you know today is Christmas Eve, right?”

“Yeah, you told me this morning…” Hunk rubs his eyes with his good hand and makes a move to sit up.

Oh. Ow. Nevermind. He’s staying down.

“Good! So – decorations are done, just need Pidge’s help with the lights, and, uh, probably music, so now I just need you to-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lance. Slow down.” Hunk closes his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Christmas! Come on, Hunk, we can’t just not celebrate! You don’t even have to get up, I just need some directions.”

“I – I know, but maybe it’s not a good time, you know? Everyone is, like, in bed-“

“I’m not.”

“You should be,” Hunk nods forward. “Doesn’t your arm hurt?”

Lance fidgets with his sling, and his face falls a little. Hunk sighs. He hadn’t meant to make Lance upset.

“It’s not too bad…” Lance says. His voice drops down, and Hunk winces at how sad he sounds. “I – look, today has been downright awful. I just want to celebrate something that reminds me of home. If I don’t… I’ll probably spend the whole night alone thinking about it. And… Allura is in the infirmary, and I thought it would be nice for her, you know? She looked so sad when we came back. Makes me wonder what she was thinking about…”

“Wait… Allura is in the infirmary?” Hunk asks. “What’s going on? Is she okay? I thought she wasn’t injured!”

“Yeah, apparently not… got hit by a druid blast on her side, and she didn’t say a thing for hours. She spent like fifteen minutes saying she was sorry but I think she was probably in too much pain to be coherent. She’s resting now, though.”

Hunk sighs.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

Lance’s face lights up again. “Really?”

Hunk smiles. “Really. Come on,” he says, swinging his legs off the mattress, “you’re gonna have to help me up.”

“Alright, Hunk!” Lance says, still searching the cabinets for ingredients. He had cooked a few times with Hunk, so he knew more or less what he was looking for. “You’ll be my hands… and I’ll be your legs.” He grins. “Like a human-sized Voltron!”

Hunk sighs, but can’t keep himself from smiling. “Great. Let’s do this.” He rolls up his sleeves and motions at Lance to grab the apron for him. “Okay, I need five of those weird eggs from Olkarion, two packets of Altean sugar, and that cool spice we bought on that desert planet.”“You got it!”

Despite being short of one hand, it’s not too difficult for Hunk to work. He and Lance make a good team, alternating between stretching the mix, cutting it up, and putting it in the oven. Two hours go by, and there’s already five different desserts, one more on the way, and next up is the main course for dinner.

“What are you two doing?”

Hunk and Lance turn around to see Shiro, limping with his boot, as he moves towards a chair to sit down. He looks somewhat amused, despite the dark bags under his eyes, and the obvious pain he’s in.

Lance smiles, opening the oven door with his good hand, as Hunk carefully takes the cookie tray out from where he’s sitting.

“We’re baking cookies!” Lance replies excitedly, closing the oven door, and sitting next to Hunk again.

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “In the state you’re in?”

“We are working as a team,” Hunk says, eyes fixated on a cookie he was carefully placing on the tray, “like a human-sized Voltron.”

Shiro chuckles. “Well, it’s always a better Christmas with cookies.”

“Of course!” Lance smiles, before remembering, “hey, have you checked on Keith? I went to his room a few hours ago to bring him an extra pillow, and he was asleep.”

“That must have been a hard hit on the head, he’s probably sore as hell.” Hunk comments, with a hint of worry on his voice.

Shiro gets up. “I’ll go check on him.”

Keith’s room is dark, and Shiro approaches his bed with light footsteps.

“Shiro?” Keith groans from under the blankets. He moves a little from beneath the covers and takes a hand to regulate the room to a dim light.

“Sorry,” Shiro says, “did I wake you?”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t sleeping.”

“How do you feel?” Shiro asks, sitting in the edge of the bed, stretching his leg in front of him. “Lance said you had been sleeping.”

“My head is killing me,” Keith croaks out, wincing as pain shot through his temples. “I managed to sleep for a while, but I can’t right now.”

Shiro winces in sympathy and pats Keith’s shoulder with gentle fingers. “I can go check with Coran and see if there is something you can take for the pain.”

“Thanks. How are you? And the others?”

Shiro shrugs. “My foot hurts a little still, but I can manage. Allura apparently was hurt, and she’s at the med bay right now.”

“What?” Keith opens his eyes, looking more alert now. “Is she okay? She was here before, and I didn’t notice…”

“She’ll be fine. Just needs to rest. Lance and Hunk are making Christmas dessert.”

“Christmas?”

“Yeah. Good thing they still check the calendars.”

“Huh,” Keith considers. His eyes wander a little before he manages a half smile. “Can’t believe it’s been that long since we flew out of Earth.”

“Between all the fighting and travelling, time really does go by,” Shiro says with a hint of sadness. Keith is about to nod in agreement, but he winces again and turns his eyes away with a hiss when the pain comes back suddenly. “Hey, I really should go get those painkillers, huh? Just hold on, okay? I’ll be right back.”

A few hours later, the dining room is fully decorated, with paper angels and snowflakes. They weren‘t able to get a pine tree, but Coran had some sort of blue bonsai in a vase, and Lance had argued that they needed a tree (even if it was neither a pine nor green or big). The dinner table is full of cookies and Christmas foods as best as they could replicate from Earth, but Lance couldn‘t help but add some alien sweets as well.

Between the two of them, he and Hunk had managed to convince Pidge to leave her bedroom and carry her out to the living room somehow, where she‘s currently dozing off on Hunk‘s shoulder with pillows all around her. Keith is still in bed, but he did look slightly better when Lance had checked on him just a while ago, after Shiro brought him painkillers.

So he decides to go check on Allura at the infirmary. When he gets there, she‘s clearly not one hundred percent better, but her complexion isn‘t as pale anymore, and she‘s half sitting in her bed, chatting with Shiro.

“Hey, Allura,” he greets with a warm smile as he steps towards her. “Are you feeling better?”

She nods softly, making the loose strands of her hair around her shoulders bounce a little, and smile back. “Much better now. Shiro tells me you’ve been preparing that earthling celebration, huh, what was it-”

“Christmas,” Lance offers with a chuckle, lowering his head to scratch the back of his neck, “yes. Hunk helped as well, of course, I’m not much of a cook.”

“I certainly hope that celebration doesn’t involve any sports event, however,” Coran comments from where he stands, near the control panels of the room, “you all need to rest.”

“We will,” Lance promises, “my favorite Christmas tradition is to lay on the sofa watching Home Alone with my nephews after opening the presents. There aren’t any presents… but I think Pidge was able to find the movie on her laptop, so we can all watch!”

Allura shifts on her bed and cocks her head to the side, squinting. “What is a “Homalone”? Is it some kind of meteorological phenomenon that happens on Christmas?”

Shiro snorts beside her, doubling down, before laughing openly.

“No,” Lance says between laughs.

“Home Alone is a movie, Princess. It’s a classic that many people like to see on Christmas time,” Shiro explains, still grinning.

“Oh. I see.”

“Well, I suppose we should be getting dinner,” Coran points out, walking towards them. He stops slowly, his eyes lingering on Allura’s face with a worried look. “How are you feeling, Princess?”

“I’m alright, Coran. I feel a lot better now.”

“Well then, let’s help you to the lounge,” Coran smiles.

Shiro and Lance end up following close behind, while Coran helps Allura walk the couple of corridors that separate the lounge from the infirmary, closely behind her as she walks slowly, and steadying her occasionally, grabbing her hand.

Pidge is awake now, her waist and legs still covered in a blanket. She holds herself with her arm against Hunk’s, still pale and cradling her broken ribs, but smiling.

“Hey guys! Allura!” She yells excitedly. “Are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine Pidge, thank you.”

Coran guides Allura to the sofa, where she settles next to Keith, who in turn is resting his head on Hunk’s lap and half enveloped in a blanket cocoon.

“Ah, yeah, he’s not watching the movie,” Hunk explains, while running his hand through Keith’s hair gently, “he dragged himself here half an hour ago, and said his head hurt like hell. Guess those Galra genes really do interfere with meds. It’s probably for the best if he keeps sleeping,” he shrugs.

“Huh, that’s a shame.” Lance sits next to Pidge, crossing his legs, and grabs the laptop for Pidge. “Maybe he’ll feel better for Home Alone 2.”

“These desserts are heavenly!” Allura pops up suddenly, holding up half a cookie in her hand.

“Thank you, Allura. I couldn’t find gingerbread, but I found this one ingredient on Olkarion that’s incredibly similar. And Lance helped, too.”

Allura turns her head to face Lance, and leans back with a fond smile, as Coran covers her shoulder with a blanket. “Thank you, Lance,” she says sincerely, “you really did put up an amazing celebration for us.”

“Even in a terribly unlucky day!” Coran comments as he drapes one last blanket over Shiro, making sure to cover his stretched leg, and plops down on the sofa beside Allura.

“I’m just happy we can celebrate Christmas somewhat,” Lance says, looking down with a shy smile. “It’s not perfect, and I really wish my family was here too… but I’m really glad we’re all safe.”

“Stop being sappy,” Pidge complains, “it’s weird.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance laughs, “let’s just watch the movie and eat.”

Allura relaxes as she watches the big screen pop up on the wall, the lights dimming down. Stretching to the right, she taps Coran’s shoulder with her finger, and he leans his ear towards her.

“These paladins may be unexperienced, and young, and…alien.” She sighs. “But they have some of the biggest hearts we’ve come across.”

“Undoubtedly, Princess,” Coran agrees, taking his eyes off the screen for a moment. “It really does seem we found ourselves a little family here.”

#vld #fanfic #a writes #m #badthingshappenbingo #bingo #ask #allura #coran #lance #keith #shiro #hunk #pidge #injury

17 notes · View notes

nordicicequeen · 7 years

Text

A Little Help

Author Notes: This is a birthday present to @misskiku, my lovely fluff and Yoosung loving friend. Go check out her work it’s great. So this is actually a little late, but V route came out and I was swamped with homework so yeah. Pairing: YoosungxMC Word Count: 1579 Warnings: None, unless you have something against fluff. Notes to @misskiku: Happy Birthday sweetheart! I hope it was a good one! I also hope you like this story! I love you!

It had been a week since the RFA party and things between Yoosung and Lisa were fine for the most part, but today the young kitten was being a disaster. Every time Yoosung started to type the kitten would walk on the keyboard and if he put Lisa down and let her explore she would cry and knock things over, which would break Yoosung's concentration. While Yoosung had already been approved for a time extension on his work due to his injury and hospital visits, he wanted to finish his paper on time. It was like a challenge that he had posed to himself and he was determined, but Lisa wasn't making it easy.

She was like a boss in LOLOL that kept beating him. Though if she was a boss in LOLOL he would have his team to back him up or create a distraction for him. That's when it hit him he needed back up. Who to call though? He didn't trust Seven to look after the cat without torturing it or trying to take Lisa home with him, plus Yoosung wouldn't likely get much work done with Seven there. Zen was out because he's allergic to cats and likely busy with practice. Yoosung didn't think his place was big enough for Zen's ego. Jumin and Jaehee were busy at work, not to mention Jumin's constant talk of being so rich and Jaehee's dislike of cats would hinder Yoosung further. He hadn't heard from V since the party and to be honest he knew if V was there that he would try to talk him out of writing the paper on time and to get some rest. So that left Yoosung's dear MC.

Finding his phone that he had left in the other room so that he work on his paper without being tempted to log into the messenger he quickly dialed MC's number and waited for her answer. Three rings later her sweet voice came through the phone and lifted his spirit.

"Yoosung! Hello! Have you finished the paper you wanted to yet?" MC asked happily.

Yoosung sighed on the other end before beginning to talk. "It's good to hear your voice. I didn't realized how much I missed you till now. About the paper... I've tried writing, Lisa is being a terror. I hold her and she attacks my hands and the keyboard. If I put on the desk she walks on the keyboard. I put her down and she runs from room to room knocking things over and making a mess. And the crying! I can't concentrate like this MC! Can you please come over and watch her so I can finish the paper? I pay you back with dinner!"

MC giggled on the other end of the line. Her boyfriend was trying to bribe her with food to spend time with him and his cute kitten. "Oh Yoosung, you didn't have to offer me food to come over and spend time with two cuties. BUT you already promised me dinner so no take backs. I'll be over soon honey. Bye!"

MC ended the call with a kiss and it had Yoosung blushing. They were still a new couple so her calling him honey and kissing him through the phone made his heart race, his mind go blank, his breath hard to catch, his face turn red, and his knees get weak. He wondered then if he'd be able to finish the paper knowing that she was so close to him. If he was being honest he'd much rather spend the day with her instead of writing this paper and so the idea of saying that he could finish tomorrow occurred to him and was almost to tempting to resist, but he decided that he could spend much more time with her if he finished his paper sooner rather than later.

Twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door. "Thank God she's here." Yoosung said to himself before getting up and heading towards the door while trying not to trip over Lisa who was winding herself through his legs with every step. "Just a minute." He called out. "Lisa please let me get the door. I called MC over to play with you." His voice sounding quite vexed by all of Lisa's neediness. It had been a long first week being a new pet owner. Finally making it to the door he opened it and let MC in. As MC walked in Lisa, being the curious kitten she was, she darted for the front door, but MC caught her and held her close.

"Where are you going? Huh? Where are you going Lisa?" MC said in a baby voice to the kitten who only meowed in response before purring at being held. "I can see why you are having a hard time. Don't worry I'll look after the little cutiepie!" MC said with a smile never taking her eyes off of Lisa.

"Thanks MC. I'm about a page away from being done with my paper so with you here taking care of Lisa I should finish pretty soon. Make yourself at home. The TV remote is over there and there are some snacks and drinks in the kitchen." Yoosung started back down the hall to his computer room when an important thought hit him and he turned to continue the conversation with MC. "Speaking of food what should I make for dinner?"

"Ummmm... I don't know." MC said as she looked up from Lisa for a moment to acknowledge his question. " Remember asking you what you thought your best dish was once and you said fried rice and I'm all for that as long as we have a protein to go with it. So how about chicken fried rice? Sound good to you? If you don't have everything to make it we could go out and get the ingredients together. Our first couple shopping trip!" MC gave a little giggle at the blush that grew on Yoosung's face at such a sweet and simple activity.

"Uh... I... Umm chicken fried rice sounds great. I know I shouldn't wish this, but I kinda hope we don't have everything just so we can go out together as a couple for a while. Ummmm... Hey MC would you like to go out and do something this weekend? Maybe a movie or something?" Yoosung was nervous about asking this as it would be their first official date and he had no experience with dates, but he thought with MC all the first date stress and tension his friends had talked about would melt away.

"Sure! Why don't we plan our date over dinner tonight!" MC answered excitedly.

"Great! Okay well I'm gonna go finish this paper. If you need me I'll in the computer room. Oh and the bathroom is at the end of the hall." Yoosung said as he disappeared to finish his paper.

Time passed quickly now that he was finally able to focus on his paper. After an hour of writing he had just finished his last citation and saved his paper several times to both his computer and a flash drive. There was no way he was going to write that paper again. The paper now out of the way he was acutely aware of how quiet it was in his apartment. He made his way to the living room and there he found MC and Lisa cuddled up on the couch asleep. The scene warmed his heart, but he also felt jealousy rising in his chest. Being jealous of a kitten... He knew it terrible, but he wanted to be one curled with MC like that. As he was standing there MC woke up and looked at him with a soft smile.

"Hey honey. Did you finish your paper?" MC asked her voice softer than usual from her lingering sleepiness.

"Yeah, I did. You and Lisa really seem to get along." He replied trying to push his jealousy aside and in doing so his voice sounded flat even to him.

"She's a sweetheart. I'd be happy to come over anytime you need me to watch her or just to hang out with you both." Her smile fell and a curious look came to her face. "Yoosung is something wrong?"

Yoosung sighed as an embarrassed blush came to his face. "I'm jealous..." He said quietly.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you." His voice had been so quiet that if MC hadn't been looking at his face when he spoke she wouldn't have even known that he spoke at all.

"I'm jealous." He said again louder. "Jealous that Lisa got to cuddle with you before me. Jealous of the baby talk and kisses I'm sure you gave her while I was busy."

"Oh is that right? Well then..." MC scooted over and patted the small space next to her and she smiled as Yoosung laid down next to her. She leaned over and gave him a short sweet kiss as he settled next to her. " I guess Lisa and I will just have to give you kisses then too. Right, Lisa?" Lisa answered with a happy meow and curled up between MC and Yoosung loudly purring.

A genuine smile came to his face as he looked at them. "I like the sound of that."

It had been a long week, but Yoosung could get used to more days like this.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #yoosung x mc #yoosung mystic messenger #mc mystic messenger #lisa mystic messenger #fluff #Trashcan wrote fluff wut?#Happy Birthday MissKiku

24 notes · View notes