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#she has Always Look on the Bright Side Of Life for her Down the Aisle song so she's winning at the moment
rinnelovebot · 2 years
Note
pspsp if your reqs are still open,,, is it okay if I can have some wedding hcs + arashi with a fem!s/o if possible ,,
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A/N: I looooove this idea … arashi is the perfect wife and bride. Also, the topic of the readers gender didn’t really come up here, so I kept it gn!
*ೃ༄ Arashi Narukami wedding hc’s
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⤷ Arashi is ecstatic when it comes to wedding planning. She has so many ideas, and is sure to pitch each and every one of them to you. She looks so radiant and thrilled when discussing her thoughts with you, a warm blush dusting her face and a wide smile playing on her lips. Getting married to the love of your life is a grand ordeal, and she’s sure to make it as picture perfect and memorable as possible.
⤷ When the day arrived, Arashi found that she didn’t feel nervous in the slightest. Many people told her that it was normal and completely fine if she felt jittery or anxious, but those feelings never came. She was certain in wanting to marry and spend the rest of her life with you, and the thought of being together for the rest of your lives excited her more than anything. How could she feel nervous about that?
⤷ What she did feel, though — was an overwhelming amount of love for her soon-to-be spouse. The moment she walked down the aisle and saw you standing there with a bright smile, waiting for her, she couldn’t stop the waterworks. Arashi had never really been someone to cry of joy, but in that moment, she couldn’t help herself. As she drew closer, her smile grew wider — and even through the tears, she could see how happy you were to be there with her too.
⤷ Her vows were heartwarming and beautiful, enough to make many of the attendees weep. She spoke of love, devotion, and her passion for you. Arashi swore, through thick and thin, through sickness and in health, she’d never leave your side. Her heart belonged to you — and yours, to her. She promised to make you feel cherished and loved for as long as you’d let her. Her voice shook, and her eyes were filled with tears, but she spoke with sincerity and honesty.
⤷“I love you, I love you a million times over — a trillion. I’ve said it so many times, and yet, it still holds just as much meaning as the first time I confessed, if not more now. I promise, with everything in me, with my entire soul, to care for you and be there whenever you need me. You mean everything to me, darling, and I’ll always make sure you know that. I am forever yours, and I hope you’ll be forever mine as well. Now, isn’t it time to kiss this bride?”
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sourwolf-sterek32 · 2 years
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Rock Bottom
Summary: Jonathan finds you out by the quarry after discovering the cuts on your wrist.
Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: major talk/description of self-harm, cutting and depression.
A/N: Look after yourselves first guys. If this triggers you, please don’t read this.
I have posted an Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington version of this already. Please comment other characters you’d like to see because ‘Rock Bottom” is becoming like a same fic but different comfort characters kinda thing
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The thing with depression is that it has a floor. A rock bottom. And finding that floor is like a blessing in disguise.
When you hit it, that rock bottom, nothing can get any worse. Life is as shitty as it can possibly get. It feels like you should stay down, to just wallow in that misery, but you find a reason to get up.
You always find a reason to get back up, no matter how hard it is.
Whether it's your parents you get up for, maybe it's a pet, a friend or maybe it's just for the sake of finding out what happens tomorrow. But, you get back up. You always get back up.
Lately though, it's been harder than usual.
"Hey, sweetie." Joyce greeted when you walked through the front door of the General Store.
She was leaning against the counter with a bright smile despite seeming very bored due to most her regular customers now shopping at the new Starcourt Mall across town. 
You gave her a friendly wave before ducking down into the medical supply aisle and grabbed a couple bandages. You paused for a second, mustering up a smile before walking back to Joyce. 
"Morning, Joyce. Just these ones thank you." You said, placing the bandages on the counter.
"Of course, that'll be six fifty." She replied, placing the bandages in a small paper bag. "Did someone at home get hurt?"
"Oh, no, no. Just stocking up our first aid kit." You easily lied with a smile that you knew didn't reach your eyes.
Joyce's brows furrowed a little as she looked over at you, seeing straight through the lie.
"You doing okay?" She asked, her voice turning soft but serious and you nodded. "Y/N-"
"I'm fine. Promise."
It was clear that Joyce wasn't buying it. She had become like a second mother to you ever since you and Jonathan had started dating. She knew nearly everything about you, the two of you had become close, but she didn't know about the scars across your thighs or fresh cuts under your sleeve.
The bell on the door ringed as another customer walked into the store, stopping Joyce from asking any more questions.
"Oh, hey, honey." She called out, looking over your shoulder at the customer. "What are you doing here?" 
"You forgot your lunch this morning. Thought I'd drop it off."
You froze recognising that voice instantly.
It was Jonathan Byers.
You and Jonathan had been dating for a few months now. Joyce wasn't too sure about it at first. She knew your family didn't have the best reputation in town, but she quickly warmed up to you when Jonathan first bought you home. She treated you like a daughter and Will practically referred to you as his sister. It was nice. 
Jonathan was a sweet guy. A little shy and sometimes dorky, but in a cute way. He was unlike anyone you had ever met, but you had been avoiding him lately. You didn't want Jonathan to see you like... like this.
Sure, you could fake it. Put on a bright smile, and laugh, and joke, and pretend everything was fine. You've been doing that for years, but you were just so exhausted. It was easier to avoid him rather than pretend that everything was okay.
Taking a deep breath, you masked your expression and turned around to find Jonathan walking through the doors, his face lighting up when he spotted you.
"Hey, baby."
You smiled, "hey, Jon."
He walked over to you, cupping the side of your face with his hand before kissing you gently. For the first time all week, you found yourself genuinely smiling as you kissed him back.
"I haven't seen you around lately." He said, pulling away, his hand falling to your shoulder. "You're not, like, avoiding me or anything, are you?"
"No, no, no. Of course not. Just got some shit going on. Been busy."
You could feel Joyce eyeing you cautiously from the counter, but you kept your attention focused on Jonathan.
"You sure?" He asked hesitantly. "I-I haven't done anything wrong, have I? If I have, just tell me and I-"
"Jonathan, you haven't done anything wrong." You hurriedly reassured, stopping his worried words. "I've just been busy."
He didn't seem to believe you and you knew he was going to try and push the subject. But, you were in no mood to talk about it.
So, you turned back to Joyce who quickly looked away, acting as if she hadn't been watching the whole thing. You rolled your eyes and placed a few bills on the counter and grabbed the paper bag.
"I just came to buy these. Have a good day, Joyce."
She nodded, "you too, Y/N."
You glanced back at Jonathan and gave him a gentle smile. "I should get going. I'll see you later."
Not waiting for a response, you turned and walked out the store, making a beeline for your car that was parked out the front.
"Y/N, wait." Jonathan called out and suddenly his hand was grabbing your wrist, stopping you.
You let out a pained hiss as his fingers grasped your sleeve. The fresh cuts beneath pulsing in pain and you were pretty sure one was starting to bleed again.
"Shit. Sorry, sorry, are you okay?" He asked, instantly letting go. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry."
He hadn't grabbed you hard. If it weren't for the cuts, it wouldn't have hurt at all. Jonathan was never violent, especially not with you.
If anything he was overly gentle, always afraid that he might hurt you by accident, despite you constantly reassuring him that you weren't some fragile piece of glass.
Although, right now, that was exactly what you felt like.
A fragile piece of glass. Glass that was already cracked and damaged, and on the verge of shattering at the slightest touch.
"You okay?"
You realised that you had taken too long to answer and quickly nodded.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."
You knew your voice didn't sound convincing, but you gave him a reassuring smile anyway. Jonathan stared at you for a moment, those beautiful brown eyes full of worry.
"Why are you wearing a hoodie? It's like 85 degrees out."
Shit.
"Uh, I've been inside most the day. Didn't realise it was so hot." You lied easily with a shrug of your shoulders.
Jonathan didn't say anything for a few seconds, his eyes glancing down to your sleeves before an uneasy expression washed over him.
"Show me your arms."
You blinked in surprise, "w-what?"
"Your arms. Show me your arms." He said again, taking a step forward.
"Uh, no." You said, simultaneously taking a step back. "Why?"
Jonathan sighed, "please, just show me your arm."
You held his gaze as he raised his eyebrows at you impatiently before you lift the sleeve of your right arm that you knew was bare.
"There. Happy now?" You asked, shoving the sleeve back down. "I gotta go."
"Your other arm." He quickly said before you could walk off. "Show me your other arm."
"Jonathan, I love you, but no fucking way."
"Y/N-"
"No." You snapped, hating the way your voice broke as you blinked back the tears burning in your eyes.
Fuck, why were you on the verge of crying? Hadn't you cried enough over the last few days?
"Everything okay out here?" Joyce's voice suddenly called out.
She was standing in the doorway of the store, holding the door open with her foot and looking between the two of you.
"Yeah, I was just leaving."
You were relieved to hear your voice sound semi-normal as you turned on your heels, refusing to meet Jonathan's eyes that were glued to you before you climbed into the car and sped off down the road.
-
The drive to the quarry was a blur, both figuratively speaking and literally because the tears wouldn't stop flowing.
You parked the car and climbed out taking in a deep shaky breath of fresh air before leaning against the hood, overlooking the quarry in front of you.
It was boiling outside now that you were sitting under the sun, so you yanked the hoodie up over your head and laid it over your lap with a heavy sigh.
The cuts along your inner arm were now in full view as you looked down in disgust. The skin was painted with a mixture of fresh and old cuts, some healed and scarred, others bright red and still bleeding sluggishly.
You covered your wrist with your hand and squeezed, welcoming the pain as the fresh cuts started to sting, but it wasn't enough.
The pocket knife in your jeans felt like it was burning against the fabric before you reached into your pocket and pulled it out.
Your hands trembled as you flicked the blade out. Dry blood still staining the stainless steel as you pressed the tip of the blade against an unmarked section of skin on your wrist.
Tears started to burn in the back of your eyes as you sliced through the skin like it was butter. Bright crimson blood instantly rose and trickled down onto the hoodie in your lap.
You watched the droplets fall. The cut stinging as the outdoor air blew against it and you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself.
The pain grounded you.
It was fucked up, you knew this was fucked up, but you couldn't stop. It was the only way you knew how to cope with everything.
You needed it. You needed the physical pain to drown out everything else, because for those few seconds with that blade against your skin, your mind was at ease. You weren't thinking about anything else, you weren't feeling anything else and you liked it.
That's how you knew you were really fucked up, because you liked it. You actually liked the pain.
The sound of a car door startled you out of your thoughts. You snapped your head towards the noise so fast, you nearly gave yourself whiplash when you saw Jonathan climbing out his Ford.
Fuck. Fuck. Fucking, fuck.
You tucked the knife back into your pocket and pressed your inner arm against the hoodie in your lap trying to hide the blood and cuts.
Jonathan walked over to you and you turned away, staring out at the quarry wishing he would just leave.
"Y/N-"
"Please, just go." You said, barely even recognising your own voice.
"And leave you here to cut yourself?" He questioned bluntly.
Yeah, you thought.
But, you didn't say that out loud though. And Jonathan didn't leave.
Suddenly his hand was on your shoulder causing you to flinch, not realising how close he was.
"How'd you know I was here?" You asked, breaking the silence.
"Mum said you liked to come here when you want to be alone."
Well, he didn't listen to the 'alone' part.
You tilted your head up at him, but he didn't look at you, his wide eyes glued to your arm that you were trying to hide, but clearly not very well.
You glanced back down and there was no mistaking the crimson stains soaking into the fabric.
"How long?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How long have you been cutting yourself? Days? Weeks?"
"More."
You didn't look at him as you spoke, not wanting to see the disappointment and pity on his face.
"Jesus Christ." He whispered to himself.
Jonathan let go, you could no longer feel his touch on your shoulder and you fought the urge to reach out and stop him from leaving.
Instead, you lifted your arms and buried your face into your hands trying to stop yourself crying.
You listened closely for footsteps on the gravel, but never heard any. Why wasn't he leaving?
A few seconds of silence ticked by before Jonathan let out a loud huff and leant down against the hood of the car beside you.
"Sweetheart, look at me."
You expected to hear him sound mad, to sound angry or pissed off, but he didn't. He sounded almost sad.
"Please. Y/N, please look at me." He practically begged.
Reluctantly, you lowered your hands from your face and glanced over at him through teary eyes and had to do a double take when you saw his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Seeing Jonathan on the verge of crying was all took before the flood gates opened. A violent sob escaped your lips when you cried, Jonathan's expression breaking.
"I-I'm sorry. Please... please don't hate me."
Jonathan's arm was instantly wrapping around your back, resting across your waist and pulling you into his side which just made you cry event more as you leant into him.
"No, no, baby. I don't hate you. I could never hate you." He insisted, holding you tightly.
"I'm sorry. I-I... I'm so sorry." You whimpered, burying your face against his chest.
"It's okay. Shh, it's okay. It's okay."
He kissed the top of your head gently and just held you while you cried.
Eventually, Jonathan lowered his arm and you sniffed, sitting up and rubbing your face with trembling hands, trying to calm yourself down.
He quickly pushed himself off the hood of the car and walked back around to the side door and grabbed something from inside causing you to frown in confusion before you realised what he was doing to do.
Jonathan walked back over to you with the brown paper bag from the store, but paused for a second when he got a look at your inner arm properly for the first time. A soft gasp escaped his lips and you fought the urge to pull your arm away from him.
It was too late. He had already seen it, the damage had been done.
"Shit." He swore softly under his breath.
He pulled out the bandages and pressed it against the worst of the cuts. The one you had just done still bleeding slowly, instantly staining the white bandage a deep red.
Neither of you said anything as you sat there, Jonathans hand pressing down on your arm with the bandage while you looked out at the quarry, the sun starting to set alone the horizon.
Jonathan was staring down at your arm with a frown plastered on his face which was better. A frown was better than tears. You could deal with Jonathan being mad at you. Anger you could handle.
"Did you treat them?"
His question caught you off guard as you blinked and glanced over at him, his eyes glued to your arm.
"What?"
"Did you treat them? I don't want them to get infected."
Oh. Oh.
He was worried about it getting infected. That hadn't even occurred to you, it should have, but it didn't.
Your silence was enough of an answer and Jonathan sighed before wrapping the bandage around your arm and tying it off so it was secure.
"I got a first aid kit at home. Let's go get it cleaned up." He said, pushing himself off your car and holding his hand out towards you. "C'mon."
You stared at his hand for a moment before shaking your head.
"It doesn't matter." You whispered, looking down at the ground. "I don't care if it gets infected."
"Well, I care."
"You shouldn't." You muttered quietly, glaring at a stone on the ground like it had personally offended you, instead of meeting Jonathan's eyes. "I mean, look at me. I'm fucked up-"
"You're not fucked up."
You chuckled almost hysterically and shook your head.
"I am. I know am. I'm fucked up. I'm broken, Jonathan and I-I can't be fixed. I know that, I mean who does this? And you know what the real screwed up thing actually is? I-I like it. There I said it, I like it. I like the pain and I know I need to stop, but it's the only thing that helps. The pain... the pain helps and I don't... I don't-"
"Hey, hey, breath. Y/N, just breath." Jonathan quickly said and you realised that you were in fact, not breathing.
You couldn't breath.
Shit, you couldn't fucking breath.
In the back of your mind, you were aware that this was some kind of panic attack. But, that piece of information did absolutely nothing to help as you tried and failed to get air into your lungs.
"It's okay, just breath. Copy my breathing." He said, grabbing your good hand and resting it on his chest as he took in deep and deliberate breaths. "Just copy me, okay? Deep breath in... and deep breath out."
You stared at the top button of his shirt, focusing on the small button like a lifeline while you mimicked his breathing. Jonathan continued to coach you verbally, your eyes glued to his button trying to focus and after a few minutes your breathing slowly started to even out. He kept your hand to his chest, showing no intention of lowering it before you looked away from the top button, your eyes locking with his beautiful brown ones.
"I'm... I'm sorry." You sighed. "You didn't- you didn't sign up for this. Just, go. I'm sorry."
You lowered your hand from his chest and fiddled with the bandage around your other wrist, too afraid to look at him as silent tears trickled down your cheeks.
"This doesn't change how much I love you. Y/N, hey, hey. Baby, look at me."
When you didn't move, he lifted his hand pinching your chin with his thumb and index finger and raised your head gently until you were forced to look at him.
"I'm serious. This doesn't change anything. I'm sorry I didn't realise how much you were hurting... when-when you started avoiding me, I thought I did something wrong, so I gave you some space. I didn't realise... shit, I'm sorry I wasn't here for you."
You sniffed, "I didn't want you to know."
"Why?"
You shrugged your shoulders as Jonathan sighed, cupping the side of your face and brushing the tears away with his thumb gently.
"I love you, Y/N. And, next time you feel like this, don't push me away. I want to help, let me help you."
You simply nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment as a fresh wave of tears surfaced at Jonathan's kindness causing his expression to soften before he pulled you into a hug.
"I just want you to be okay." He whispered, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, baby."
-
Link to Masterlist in bio
A/N-
Thank you guys for reading.
This character was specially requested and I will be doing a Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead) version of this next. 
Please comment any other characters you would like to have and I will do my best.
Until next time, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx
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winniethewife · 4 months
Text
You Can’t Always Save Everybody.
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(Miguel O’hara x Spidersona!Scarlette Web)
Chapter 3
Last chapter ~ Next chapter
A/n: Flash back Chapter! It jumps around the timeline a bit. Hopefully its not too confusing. posting a day early this week because the holiday tomorrow. Image by @bumbleboots_art on IG
Warnings: Character death, Angst, Drug use.
Words:1121
Valentine woke with Miguel’s arm wrapped around her, same as every morning. She hummed peacefully as she fought the urge to just fall back asleep in the warmth of his embrace. His calloused fingers run over the skin over her stomach, a signal he’s waking up.
“Morning Tiger.” She chuckles softly. Miguel playfully growls and nuzzles his face into her neck, nipping and kissing lightly at the sensitive skin.
“G’morning Chiquitita…mmm… Tan suave, tan bonita…” He mumbles into her skin as he takes in her scent, his hand running along the bare skin under her sleep shirt. His lips moving gently along her skin, not wanting to leave any inch of her skin untouched. His tounge leaving a trail as he leaves a strip along her neck before blowing cold air along it making her laugh and twitch at the sensation. She turns to look at him
“Coffee?” She asked quietly.
“5 more minutes, Quiero sentirte…” She laughs as he pulls her ontop of him, using her like a blanket.
“Okay, Okay, Five more minutes”
~
She had just finished giving Green Goblin over to the authority’s when she heard one of the officers talking.
“Yeah there’s been a shooting over at this concert. Some punk band.” Her blood went cold, she shot her webshooter and swung through the city as fast as she could to the venue Miguel was preforming at, there were police everywhere, ambulances everywhere, she scanned the crowed for Miguel, she saw the rest of his band mates off to the side, but where was he? She quickly pulls on a hoodie with Miguel’s band logo on it and some yoga pants before making her way over to his band mates.
“Valentine!” Oh my god…” Cherry, the red haired Keyboardist rushes to give her the tightest hug.
“Cherry…Where is he?” Valentine asks her voice shaking. Cherry pulls away and shakes her head.
“He…He saw the guy with the gun, got off the stage to stop him…there was nothing the EMTs could do.” Cherry started crying. The other bandmates could barely look at her, heads hung.
Valentine’s whole world came crumbling down. The earth stopped spinning in that moment. Everything was over. He was gone.
~
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She stood in front of the mirror, the day of her wedding has arrived, Her hair perfectly styled, her makeup done perfectly, the gothic wedding dress she had specially made hugged her curves. Her Maid of Honor was Cherry, She was her best friend since high school, as well as a member of her fiancé’s band. Her Uncle Martin was the only member left of her family, after Aunt Beth died before she could save her, something she would later learn is a sacrifice all spider people must make in their life. He was beside her with a wide smile.
“You look beautiful Sweetie. Your parents would be so proud. Aunt Beth would be proud.” He said as he gently touched her shoulder.
“Thank you, I just...wish they were here.” She smiles sadly at her uncle.
“They may not be here in person but, they’re always in your heart.” He reminds her. Cherry hands her the bouquet of dark red roses.
“Ready?” She asks with a smile, her bright red hair done in a complicated up do of her own design.
“Ready.”  Valentine smiles at her friend.
Miguel stood at the end of the aisle with an all-black suit. His hair slicked back and a look of awe on his face as he watched her walk down the aisle. As She reaches the alter he takes her hand and helps her up the step.
“Eres la novia más Hermosa… I’m the luckiest guy in the universe…” He says just loud enough for her to hear as he runs his thumb across the back of her hand. Valentine finds herself lost in his eyes as the Officiant starts to speak.  She doesn’t even really listen, she only noticed when the Officiant prompted her to read her vows. She keeps looking into his eyes as she recites them.
“My Love, they say ‘love is not always sunshine and rainbows; sometimes, it's the darkness that pulls us closer.’ With that in mind, I wish to keep by my side, in the darkest of nights, in the brightest of days. From far away and close by. I will keep you forever in my heart. Every breath I take is for you, every step I take is to bring me closer to you. My heart beats for you, and you alone. You are my entire life, and I couldn’t do everything I do, if you weren’t by my side. I love you with my entire being. This is just the beginning of a new chapter for us, in a story we already write together.” She tries to keep her voice steady as tears of joy stream down her face. Miguel also wipes tears from his eyes.
“Chiquitita…I have loved you since the first day. I knew my whole life would be about you after that first date. Every song I write I write for you, every tattoo on my body is a reminder of our life together. Every show I play I look for you in the crowd, I play for you. I sing for you, it’s always you. You are the moonlight that I am drawn to in the night. You bring joy to my life, pushing out the sorrow. You make me feel like I can do anything and everything, nothing can stop me as long as we’re together. In this life time I will write you a hundred melodies, as long as you are here to bring me harmony.”
~
Valentine kneels by the headstone. “Miguel O’hara-Foxx, Goodbye isn’t forever.” She touches the top of the stone with tears in her eyes, she’s wearing the dress he always loved. It had been six months, she was just surviving at this point, each day the same as the last.
“Hey Tiger…I know it’s been a while but…I wanted to see you. I miss you every day. I…I feel like I’m drowning without you…” She chuckles “I just, if I had been there… at the concert…fuck. I miss you Miguel. I don’t know what I’m doing.” She rests her head on the headstone tears streaming down her face.
~
Scarlette Web stood in her lab looking at the tech she was working on she felt the Withdrawal from the MERCY coming on. She reaches for the injector and slides up her sleeve and lines up the injector, pulling the trigger, a sharp sting then a rush over her body. She closes her eyes and sighs in relief. That life was behind her. This is her life now.
~
Translations:
Tan suave, tan bonita : So soft, so pretty
Quiero sentirte: I want to feel you
Eres la novia más Hermosa : You're the most beautiful Bride
Masterlist
Tag: @femmeanonymelives
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sparkagrace · 1 year
Note
Stucky + 45? 💞
Hi Sanne! Am I doing this in the middle of a meeting? We'll never know (the answer is yes).
This is #45!
tags: bucky is the #1 son-in-law, sarah rogers, post-breakup
All my exes' moms listen to my songs, yeah They can't get enough, still keep in touch since I moved on
-
Bucky knows that he’s likable. He’s been able to charm his way through life since he was a kid because he has a chin dimple and bright blue eyes that are the right side of mischievous to be considered cheeky rather than troublesome. 
He knows he’s the type of boyfriend that people want to bring home to their families — barbecues, weddings, birthday parties — because he always finds people to talk to so his significant other never needs to worry about having to stick to his side or do the introductions. Bucky asks the right questions and nods along, and he knows he’s done a good job because he usually leaves with pinched cheeks and a family recipe of some sort.
The relationships never last long, but he still stays in touch with Darla. Or Carole. Or Fran. Or Claire, Clare and Clara. Somehow he can never escape his exes’ moms and they regularly comment on his Facebook page and sometimes the page he keeps for Alpine.
It’s amusing when he gets heart emojis and so sweet! comments from exes’ moms when he’s posing with a new boyfriend. A few times he’s had phone calls post-breakup with reminders that he’s still very welcome to stop by at any time and a few of them still send him messages on his birthday and at New Years. 
(Some of them also helpfully mention that their sons are still single. Just in case Bucky wanted to know.)
“Bucky?”
He turns from his thoughts and spins around to the source of the voice. Sarah Rogers, the mom of his college sweetheart, is standing there with her cart and a thick knitted scarf in the same pet food aisle of the grocery store that Bucky is in.
“Mrs Rogers,” he greets, bending down a little to hug her. 
“Call me Sarah,” she reminds him, and he breathes in the familiar scent of vanilla and jasmine. Steve is still buying her the same perfume for her birthday even after all these years.  
“Sorry, Sarah. How are you?”
They shoot the breeze for a few minutes. His job, her garden, plans for the holidays, Becca’s graduation. They walk through towards the little cafe in the corner of the grocery store, and he doesn’t realize it’s been forty minutes until he’s finished his coffee and eaten half a wedge of carrot cake he’s sharing with Sarah and listening to Christmas songs through the speakers. 
Then — finally. 
“So, how is he?”
And it’s been three years and they tried to be friends, but eventually it got too hard to see that Steve was moving on and happy with his new life in DC, and Bucky tried to be happy with his old Brooklyn life too. 
“He’s good,” she tells him, and puts down her fork with a soft clatter as they start gathering their belongings. “He’s moving back to New York.”
“Oh? It’ll be nice for you to have him back.” Bucky watches Sarah wrap her long scarf back around her neck, three times and then tucking it under like always. “Especially in time for the holidays.”
Sarah looks at him with a soft smile and her sparkling blue eyes, and gives his cheeks a soft pinch.
“He’s single, y’know.”
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gucciwins · 2 years
Text
(not) in love
it's a perfect day for a wedding
Word count: 3262
A/N: I've had this story in my docs for a long time but I felt the need to share. It is something different and in a style I have not written before so please be kind. Hope you're all well, friends <3
I would love to hear your feedback on this piece. I adore you.
____________
It's her wedding day, she is dressed in a beautiful floor-length gown. It's silk, with lace details. She's decided against a veil, not able to choose any that frames her face nicely. On her neck lies pearls that her husband-to-be gave her as her something new. Something old is a beautiful hair comb with blue flowers that have been passed down for generations. Something borrowed is a gold anklet with a hanging bee that her best friend, Clairo, let her borrow for her special day. 
She's nervous, I can tell. She's squeezing her hands at her side, trying her best not to do it on her dress, afraid to wrinkle it. I want to walk over and give her a hug to remind her everything will be okay, but I also want to take her outside and make sure this is what she wants. 
I know the reason she's nervous is because she wants everything to plan out the way she always dreamed of, but also for the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle ready to make her his wife. Make it known to the world that she is his and he is hers. 
It breaks my heart thinking about it, about hearing the vows and their confession to love each other for the rest of their life when that could have been me. 
If it were up to me, I would be on an island drinking margarita after margarita until I forgot my own name, but that isn't the case. She asked me to be here, and I never did learn to say no to her. 
The atmosphere in the room is vibrant, full of love and happiness. The chatter of the bridesmaids is loud and cheerful. Not even that makes me waver from staring at her, the shining star of the day. 
I see her sitting in front of the mirror, taking a deep breath before picking up a piece of paper of the vanity and the pen; her maid of honor had got a hold of her. I'm one of three men in this room full of ladies, but no one bats an eye at me as I move closer to get a closer look at what she is writing. 
Just as I was close enough, she got up and looked around the room before her eyes fell on the person she was looking for. Softy, she called out for Charlotte, her seven-year-old flower girl over. Charlotte had a hair full of fluffy curls with a flower crown on top, bouncing over a big smile on her face. 
"Need you to do me a big favor, petal." She whispers only for the three of us to overhear, not that she knows. 
"Anything, auntie," Charlotte responds in a low voice. 
A bright smile takes over her face at her niece's enthusiasm. 
"Need you to hand this to him, but no one can see." She looks around, making it seem like a big secret mission for Charlotte. "It's our secret."
Charlotte's eyes gleam at the word secret. "You got it!" She's out of sight in the next second. 
She stands up from her crouched position and smooths out her dress. She takes a final look in the mirror, giving herself a small nod. I know that means she loves how she looks. 
That she feels beautiful. 
I also know she's going over her self-affirmations she started doing at a young age that her mother taught her, wanting her to be mentally strong, and she always has been. I liked to tell her it's what made her headstrong. 
It made her the strong and bold woman who goes after what she wants. I couldn't be prouder.
"I'm going to take a moment alone on the patio." She addresses the room, all falling silent, but she just offers them a reassuring smile. 
"That's fine, dear." Her mother replies, going back to chatting to Clairo and Adele, her two closest friends. 
I can't help but follow her out, wanting to make sure she really is alright. Instead of making the left turn out to lead her to the patio doors, she takes a right and then left. I know that will lead her to a fountain with beautiful pink and white roses surrounding the area, making it look like the center of a maze. Roses aren't her favorite flower, but she could never deny their beauty. 
I kept a distance away, watching her circle the fountain, smiling at her own reflection or the fishes; I wasn't sure. 
I take a step forward to make my presence known when someone speaks up that causes both of us to look up. 
"You look breathtaking." I can’t see her face, but I know her cheeks must heat up at the compliment. 
She looks delighted to see him; there, he stands tall and handsome in a suit tailored to perfection. It's a black suit with golden specks that shine in the sunlight. A boutonniere consisted of a single white ranunculus, silver bruins, and tied with a black and gold ribbon giving it a nice pop of color to the black suit. 
"You look beautiful." She tells him. 
He steps forward, closing the distance between them taking her in his arms. His left-hand snakes around her waist, having a firm hold on her.
"May I kiss my bride?" 
I leave after that, no longer able to watch that interaction. I'm happy for her, always, but it also is hard to watch her love someone, like she never loved me. 
_____
I began to walk around just admiring all the nature around me; she decided on an outdoor wedding, wanting fairy lights hanging and trees to give the right amount of shade and sunlight. It's safe to say she found it; it's also what makes it easy to find a bench to sit at. 
I sit down and think, how is it him marrying her and not me. 
Our dads were best friends, thus making our mothers become friends, and when the time came, we were born and destined to be best friends. I always followed her around like a lost puppy my dad liked to tell me. More to tease me but also to remind me that I've always loved her, and it was only a matter of time before I made a choice to tell her or lose her, never having the chance to do so. 
At the age of seventeen, she had been in two short-term relationships, no one meeting her standards. No one was good enough to meet her parents, always never meeting the criteria she had set. 
She was private when she wanted to be, but she held very few secrets, as did I. 
This is why I couldn't keep the one I've been holding onto for years any longer. 
During Spring Break, we decided not to go anywhere. It was senior year, but since we had decided on going to university and knew it would not be free, it was better to start saving. The real trip was backpacking across Europe for the summer.
It was a hot day, and we were in my backyard, lying on the beach towels basking in the sun. She was going on and on about this new book she read and how she wished there was a movie adaptation so that she could watch it over and over again like she did with Pride and Prejudice. I never got tired of hearing her speak.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Of course." She shut her book and turned to look at me. 
I did the same. 
"I love you."
It's silent; she's just staring at me. 
"I love you, not just as my best friend but as a lover. As someone who always wants to stand by your side supporting you, being the person you turn to, the person I have always been for you, but I want the extra affection, the kisses." I tell her hoping she understands and feels the same way. 
She sits up, and I follow suit. She brings my hand in her lap and gives it a firm squeeze. 
"I don't feel the same way." She whispers tears in her eyes, knowing she's breaking my heart. She hates knowing she's causing me pain, but because I can't help it, I rip my hand from her grip.
"But-"
"You're my best friend; you've been by my side all my life. I know it hurts to hear this, but I've never loved you like that." 
I try my best to hold back my tears, but it's hard. 
"I understand." I breathe out. 
"I should go, shouldn't I." 
I nod. 
"I'm sorry. I know it's not what you wanted to hear. I know you need time, but I will always be here for you." 
She walked out through the side gate and down to her house down the street; that’s when I let my tears run free. 
It wasn't until then that I knew what real heartbreak felt like.
And it wasn't until six months later when in Italy when she met him, did I know I would love her forever but she would never love me back the same. 
I am brought out my thoughts when my phone starts ringing an old ABBA song. It's her ringtone, and I'm quick to answer. 
"Hello," I breathe out. 
"Oh, darling. It's just Franny thought you might know where the bride is. She hasn't turned up." 
I frown, worried now. "I might have an-" but Franny cuts me off.
"Never mind, she just turned up. Hurry back, will you? We've got to get ready to walk." 
I pocket my phone, ready to head back into a crowded room, prepared to be invisible once more. 
_____
I walked down the aisle with my mother at my arm. She wanted the most important people in her life to walk down, and we were part of it. My father passed away during my second year of college. I can't help but wonder what he'd think. He was always my biggest fan and was the one who held me as I cried my heart out that Spring break. 
I know he'd grip my hand tightly, letting me know he was here for me, but I also know he would have loved her husband-to-be because as much as I hate to admit it, he's been nothing but good to her. 
He's loved by all.
If I wasn't so in love with her, he and I might have even been friends. 
My mother leads us into our seats, watching the bridesmaids and flower girl pass for the bride to make her big entrance. 
I look around at the small group of family that has gathered. It brings a smile to his face at how small and intimate it feels. It's perfect, and everything she ever described to him she wanted. 
Her dreams are coming true, but when will mine. 
It's then that he hears the piano start to play the well-known tune, and so we rise.
We all turn, and I swear it's as the sun only shines on her, as it follows her every move. As it rises each morning for her and her alone. 
Her walk is slow, her gaze locked on the man waiting at the steps of their makeshift altar. 
My eyes well up with tears, and I want to run out because to watch her get married is breaking my heart. This is a moment I know I will never recover from. 
The ceremony moves quickly and as much as he hates to admit it was beautiful. They decided against sharing their written vows with us, something I am entirely grateful for. 
In the next few seconds, it's as if the world turned into slow motion; he doesn't hear the minister say kiss, the bride only sees her hands are placed on his cheeks, and his hands fall to her waist, and they're kissing as if no one is there watching.
Once they break away is when I can hear all the applause and cheers for the newlyweds. 
I'm speechless. 
It's not until they walk down the aisle, waving at everyone, does it really settle in that she's married. She chose this man she met in Italy, the last country in their backpacking trip he couldn't make so instead she met up with Franny, her cousin who moved abroad. Then one night out at the Trevi Fountain, he walked up to her, handed her a quarter, and told her to make a wish because the Trevi Fountain is known to make all dreams come true. She kissed it and threw it over her shoulder. Neither has ever said what they wished for, but we all assumed, seeing as six years later they returned, and that was where he got down on one knee and proposed. 
I can't help but torture myself by remembering these details. That the love of my love found her love by letting her go. God knows I should have let go sooner, hell I'm still letting go. 
After today, I do know it really is over.
"Let's go, my boy." 
My mom hooks her arm in the crook of my arm, and out we walk to the reception, which is taking place in a vast tent with beautifully decorated tables with handwritten place settings. Shining lights give the space a nice dim glow. The bride and groom's table sits right in front of the dance floor, facing their guests. 
After leading my mom to our seats, I head to the bar and take two shots of tequila, knowing there's nothing I want to remember tonight, plus it will numb the pain. 
_____
The reception passed by in a breeze after the lovely couple made their entrance, and the next thing I know, I'm called up to the stage to give my speech. The speech she asked me six months ago to do for her, she had initially asked me to be her man-of-honour, but I rejected. Sure, it hurt her feelings, but she understood. She always does. 
Now standing up here, microphone in hand and her attention on me, I say what I've wanted to say all day.
"I love you." I look at her praying her eyes will give me something more than sympathy but nothing, so I continue on. "I love you because you're the sister my parents never gave me." 
I shake the moment off as if it never happened as if I wasn't seventeen again, and she was breaking my heart. 
"She is the kindest person I had ever met, growing up; my dad said we were inseparable, but who's fault was it really when our parents grew up best friends and lived just down the street. Sure, she has siblings, the twins eight years younger than us are not as fun. There were lots of diaper changes we had to go through." That gets me a laugh from the audience. "We were inseparable, not even at university, which we surprisingly decided to go to the same one. See, we tell each other everything but knew if we told each other our dream college then we'd give up ours for the other. Instead, we would send in our acceptances then let the other know. Turns out we think just the same because that Fall, we headed to NYU together. This also meant I heard all about her boy drama, and she heard of the girls who rejected me each time." 
I take a pause, taking in the audience, not trying to meet her eye anymore; instead, I meet her husband's and smirk. I raise my glass towards him. "Now her lovely husband is all she could talk about when she came back from Europe. How dreamy he was, how he could make pasta from scratch and made the best macaroons. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought she was struck by cupid's love arrow. I've seen her in love, and I've seen her heartbroken, but this was new territory. She spoke about meeting with him during winter break, how he wants to meet her family, and she wants to meet his family. Safe to say, I was stunned. She spent all but three weeks together. She was speaking of a future she would never give her past exes. Obviously, the first step before meeting the family is meeting the best friend." I see him smile, knowing exactly where I was headed.
"On a Thursday morning, she set up the meeting, time zones, and all you know. She headed to her bedroom and told me she'd be back quickly, but the phone was already ringing, and I was nervous for him to answer and just see me. To my surprise, a woman answered, a pretty brunette, a bit pale but pretty. She smiled at me, clearly on mute, seeing as she moved her lips, and I heard nothing. Then he came in a t-shirt in hand and in an instant I was mad. Who lets another woman answer the call and is also shirtless. I was already assessing the red flags in my head. I was ready to argue when the lovely bride returned in and smiled at the two people on the phone screen. It was also the moment the mute came off. There were hellos then the introductions. I was first and was described as her loyal and oldest friend. Then he said, this is my sister, who also happens to be my best friend. I burned red in embarrassment. Safe to say, after the call ended, I told her what I had thought, and well, it didn't take long for them to find out."
"Thanks for calling me pretty." Someone shouted from the bar. 
"You got the good genes." I joke.
"To wrap this up, I want to say that my best friend deserves love, laughter, and happiness for the rest of her life and all her lives after that, and I hope he can give her that."
I turn my head to lock eyes with her one last time, but her eyes are on him. She's caressing his cheek, slowly leaning in, clearly getting lost in his eyes. 
I clear my throat, blink away my tears. 
With a deep breath, I blaster a big smile on my face. 
"Now, please raise your glass for Mr. and Mrs. Styles. May your life be filled with so much love." 
In seconds the room breaks out in cheers, and I chug my glass of champagne and head out the front door for some fresh air.
I take one last look behind me to see if she would notice, but instead, I find her locked in a passionate kiss with her husband as everyone cheers and snaps photos. 
With each step out the door, my heart is breaking into pieces. Sure, my speech was real and genuine, but it doesn't mean I can live with it forever, knowing I'll never get to call her mine and that she would forever be called Mrs. Styles. 
I knew this was the last moment I would ever have with her in my life. 
We wouldn't get that happy ending we dreamed of as kids living next door and our kids becoming best friends because I wanted those kids to be our kids instead. 
Now, all I'll be is a memory. 
She'll live her life with a man who loves her and a man she loves back just as much. 
_____
please let me know what you thought <33 feedback is welcomed and appreciated
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boydepartment · 1 year
Text
Pizza Parlor- Lee Felix: Chapter Nine!
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Description: Y/n is a stressed-out college student who has no idea what she is doing with her life. She is always wrapped up in nostalgia and her friends seem to know exactly what they're doing. Feeling insecure one night she decides to go on an old website. Club Penguin. Little does she know; she would encounter a certain penguin who was also having a rough night.
Stray Kids are idols, TXT is not.
Partial smau, mainly written.
Warnings for chapter 9: cursing????????
WC- 3k????
back next
masterlist
                                                                                                ```
Song for Chapter 9: Valentine - Laufey
Chapter 9: Click
Getting Lea to actually let you go to this meeting with Felix was really difficult. Kai on the other hand, has loosened up a lot. You walked over to the cucumbers and started to pick from the batch.
                “He isn’t going to kill me; I’ve known him for months now.” You said mindlessly. Lea looked at you funny.
                “Okay let me see a photo of him.” You rolled your eyes and tossed her your phone; your lock screen was a screenshot from a FaceTime call you had. Felix got the bright idea to try and actually cook something instead of baking. The photo was your favorite because if you missed him all you had to do was tap and hold your lock screen. You could then see him lose his mind over how the meat he cut looked.
                “Y/n you are being catfished.” Lea was serious. You turned to her, looking confused. Now tossing the now bagged cucumbers and walking to the oranges.
                “No, I’m not, that is a screenshot from a FaceTime call, I have seen his face more times than I can count.” You said, “and heard his voice.”
                “Y/n…” Lea looked at you with a sad look. Part of you was trying hard not to get offended. You tied up the bag of oranges and led the cart to another aisle.
                “Click down on my home screen. It is literally a live photo.” You were 1000% sure you were not getting catfished, he would send you his face at almost every angle and you’ve seen it at every angle in real time on FaceTime.
Lea looked at you like you had just murdered someone in the middle of this grocery store. You turned to her stopping the cart on the side of the aisle.
                “What?” You looked back at her while she handed you your phone.
                “Open your phone right now I want more proof of this guy.”
You furrowed your brows and unlocked it, handing it back, “listen, I know he looks like a model but he’s real you can look through our texts and sent photos if you want to.” You didn’t really want your privacy to be invaded however it was hard to not get defensive over this. Felix was someone who you really liked and the fact that your friend was now saying this put you off a bit.
As you continued to grocery shop while Lea snooped, Kai ended up meeting back with you guys with stuff he wanted. It mainly consisted of little candies he wanted to try.
                “I heard THIS ONE is so good, I have been researching and I saw that guy try it on TikTok!” Kai held up the candy, you had no idea what the wrapper said but if Kai wanted to try it then Kai gets to try it.
                “Which guy on TikTok?” You asked, you’re sure Kai had to of sent you the video once.
                “That one guy, I don’t remember his name, I am too busy on trying to get Soobin’s dog viral.” Kai sighed.
                “The old one?” You asked, Soobin only had one really old dog who still jumps around like he was 2 months old again.
                “How dare you say he is old!” He acted like he was offended.
                “Is he not like thir-“
                “Y/n L/n.” Lea interrupted your conversation, nails digging into your arm, you could’ve screeched if you weren’t in public.
Kai looked at her and secretly put more stuff into the cart.
                “Lea OW!” You whisper yelled at her, “what is it?!”
She held your phone up, it was a photo of Felix, one you haven’t seen before.
                “What am I supposed to be looking at?” You asked.
                “Y/N!” Lea said loudly, this made you jump back a bit, well as far as her death grip would let you.
Kai grabbed the cart, “um… I’m just gonna take this and finish the shopping…” He quickly swerved away leaving you and Lea in the aisle.
                “I don’t know what I’m looking at.” You said, you really didn’t. It was just a random selfie of him on Pinterest, so what? Random people get Pinterest clout all the time. Also, for someone who is super into TikTok like Felix, it wouldn’t be surprising if Felix had Pinterest clout or even TikTok clout.
                “You WORK in a K-pop store how can you not recognize him?!” Lea said and handed you your phone back.
                “I have no clue what you are trying to connect here Lea. Felix is just some rand- “
                “HIS NAME IS FELI-“ you quickly covered her mouth. You guys were in public and the last thing you wanted to do was cause a scene.
                “Yes, we met on Club Penguin, I thought I told you the story while we were at work.” At this point you were a little annoyed. Lea’s eyes widened and pulled your hand off her mouth.
                “Y/n this is an idol. This is the GUY from Stray Kids!”
You actually laughed at this, “Lea he hates Stray Kids. Come on we need to find Kai, if he gets lost then I have no clue how we would find him.”
When you guys found Kai and finally checked out, you couldn’t help but try to make connections in your head. It would make sense, a lot of sense. The only way you could be sure though is if you looked up Stray Kids, and you were not about to break your pinky promise with Felix. On the walk home you three talked about the upcoming plans. For the most part you were going to be left alone for the next couple days. Apparently, they want to film the Huening Family gathering or something. You weren’t going to complain, I mean you got a trip to another country out of this. On top of that, you get to meet someone who has made your life astronomically better by just being around you.
After the groceries were tucked away Lea dragged you to your shared room.
                “Lea I am not going to listen to your conspiracy theories.” You huffed a laugh out and turned to the closet, which was now unpacked, you had to get dressed and ready to see him. You were somewhat annoyed with her trying to push this, but you didn’t show it.
                “Y/N I AM NOT CRAZY!” Lea flopped down on her bed; you started getting changed. But you didn’t like the outfit, or the next, and so forth.
                “You sound crazy.” You let out a soft chuckle and turned to the mirror near the door. You really wished you packed better clothes; you would just have to settle on a sweater and long skirt, your boots would pair well with this combination of clothes.
                “YOU SOUND CRAZY!” Lea retaliated, “with how you two talk and what you talk about it is not surprising if he WAS FELIX FROM STRAY KIDS!”
This made you stop messing with your hair in attempts to fix it, “Lea. I don’t want to think about this, there is no way an idol would be on Club Penguin and there is no way an idol would waste his time on me. Now if you excuse me.” You turned to the door grabbing your big coat and walking out. Kai was sat at the kitchen on FaceTime with Yeonjun. You popped in the FaceTime and then quickly headed out, grabbing your backpack, and putting on a mask.
You typed the address into your phone and started to get the directions, you prayed that you wouldn’t get lost. The last thing you would want to do is be late to this. You texted Felix telling him you were on your way and described your outfit. This was big for you, really big and you did not want to mess this up. Never in your life were you this nervous to see someone. What if he smelled bad? What if he actually was trying to kidnap you? Maybe you should have been nicer to Lea… Because if you die that wasn’t really a nice way to end off things. Okay Y/n calm down you weren’t going to DIE! That is crazy talk. You took a deep breath as you walked near the river, it was beautiful. The walk and the river helped calm you down, at the end of the day if this meeting went horribly then you would just leave or go somewhere where you could lose him. The café was in your sights and your chest tightened. This was it. You wait for when it was safe to walk the cross walk, your stomach was doing flips. Tying your jacket around you, you finally walked to the café.
Calm down Y/n it will be fine. You stood by the café under a tree, it was cold today, but the sun was still out and you were wearing a big jacket. That would be gross if you started sweating everywhere before you met him. I mean what if you smelled weird!? You didn’t even think about that! You kept freaking out if he was a creep, but what if YOU looked creepy. Oh god… You quickly opened your phone to try and kill time. Lea was telling you to watch out for paparazzi, you rolled your eyes, texting something snarky but funny back. That was a good last impression in case you did die.
                “Y/n!” Your whole body ran cold when you looked at him, mainly because he scared the fuck out of you.
                “WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CODE WORD?!” You laughed as he practically yanked you into a hug, you were surprised he could hug you with how much stuff was in his hands.
                “Pizza Parlor!” Felix laughed as he swung you around a little. You held onto him pretty tightly and smiled into his shoulder. He pulled away and looked at you. You were a little sad at the loss of contact, Felix did not smell bad at all. In fact, in a way he smelled expensive.
                “You really are so pretty.” He was smiling behind his mask you could tell by his eyes, the way they practically sparkled at the sight of you. Before you could answer he spoke again, “oh! I got you flowers, and I baked brownies last night, I barely got any sleep but it’s okay!” He handed you the container and flowers. At this point all nerves washed away. You were grinning from ear to ear. BinsHusband, Scara, Felix, was in front of you, and you were fully welcoming him.
                “Thank you, Felix.” You looked up at him, he had such beautiful eyes, you could see the freckles that framed his eyes as well. You both just stood there looking at each other before breaking eye contact and laughing.
                “I’m sorry I am really nervous; I don’t want to mess this up.” Felix rambled and messed with hair that was poking out of his beanie. You felt your heart smile, it was sweet that he was nervous.
                “Honestly, I almost threw up on the way here.” You admitted, this made him chuckle. It sounded so pretty; HE sounded so pretty.
                “Well let’s head inside so you can throw up in the café.” He joked and you nodded, putting the brownies into your backpack. Felix helped you of course, then hesitated when you were situated.
                “Um… Can I-“he motioned to your hand. You felt your face heat up and you grabbed his hand, “alright then.” He smiled. Felix led you two into the restaurant, one of your hands carrying the flowers and the other carrying his. It was almost as if it was meant to be held by him.
                “Tell me what you would like for brunch this morning, I will order and pay.” He said when you two sat down.
                “Felix, you don’t have to I have money.” You said, you didn’t want him to spend his money.
                “Y/nnnn please.” Felix whined, you decided to cave in.
                “Fine, I would like a vanilla coffee with extra cream, and uhhhhh…” You didn’t really know what you wanted to actually consume.
                “I will start you with that, pretty.” He got up and went to get you your coffee. You were sat there giggling to yourself, you texted Lea and Kai that you were safe and okay. Better than okay. Your stomach that was once nervous was replaced with butterflies. Over call when you were with him your heart was full and warm, now that he was actually in front of you it felt like you were on overdrive. In a good way of course.
When Felix came back with two drinks and three macaroons, you then finally noticed that barely anyone else was in the restaurant.
                “Is this place not popular?” You whispered. He took off his mask and sipped his iced coffee, the drink looked more like tinted milk than coffee.
                “Huh? Oh, its super popular why?” Felix watched you take off you mask and for a second, he seemed mesmerized.
                “There is like no customers here.” You let out a small chuckle and blew softly to cool your hot coffee. Your hands were thanking you for the warmth of the cup.
Felix looked around, “haha wow would you look at that, maybe 11am is a weird time to get coffee!” You gave him a funny look then sipped your coffee; it was FANTASTIC. Your eyes practically lit up, totally forgetting the weird apocalyptical atmosphere.
                “Good?” Felix giggled, you nodded and set down your coffee. You two ended up taking photos of each other because this really was a momentous occasion.
“Soooo, Y/n do you have to be back at a certain time? Like any plans today?”
You shook your head no, “actually I will probably be alone for the next couple days… But Kai and Lea said they would make it up to me after so.”
                “Oh? Why’s that?” He asked and took a bite of the yellow macaroon, after he nudged the container towards you. You smiled and took the pink one.
                “They have to film the Huening reunion.” You said, “you know, since their sister is an idol, idol stuff I guess.” You took a bite, this small pastry was so amazing.
                “Trust me I understand that.” Felix took another sip of his coffee, you noticed that sometimes he would bite the plastic straw. He had cute little habits that you didn't get the privilege of knowing about while on call.
You two made small talk before he disposed of the trash and walked you two out. Felix decided to walk with you along the river, it was such a sight. The early afternoon air, the way there was a small breeze that would move the hair peaking out of his beanie, gorgeous.
                “Are you going to be alone at your Air BnB then?” Felix asked, then put his hands up, “not trying to sound creepy.” He chuckled. You thought for a moment.
                “For the most part, yeah.” You said switching the arms at which you were carrying the flowers, “I think they’ll come back at the end of the day but I’m not sure.”
                “Ahhh, if they don’t tell me, I can see if you can stay with us. I’d be a little nervous with you there alone, you have some bad luck with that.” Felix kicked a rock. You gasped and playfully shoved him.
                “Okay I got my apartment EGGED ONCE! He ended up dumping her too… thank God.” You rolled your eyes.
                “Shit really?! Finally.” Felix sighed dramatically, “you also got followed home when you were alone. You have horrible luck Y/n ADMIT IT.”
You thought for a moment, “okay that I will give you. But that’s IT!”
                “If you stay with us, I have a lot of gaaames.” He said, trying to persuade you.
                “What happened to not wanting to be creepy?” You laughed.
Felix threw his head back and cackled, “if I had candy, I would have given it to you but I settled on the brownies.”
                “Surprised you didn’t try to pick me up in a white van.” You joked. He kept chuckling his shoulders bouncing a little.
                “Last time I checked you flew to me.”
You gasped again, “I didn’t mean to! How was I supposed to know you lived here!”
                “Mhmmmm suuuure!” He giggled and looked at you in a teasing manner.
Felix hummed to himself as you two kept walking, your hand brushed against his and he grabbed it with no hesitation this time.
                “Getting bold now?” You looked up at him, he smiled at you from under his mask which was now put back on.
                “Um, I have always been the bold one, thank you very much.” He teased back and nudged you. You giggled, like ACTUALLY giggled which made you blush out of embarrassment.
                “Awww is Pretty getting embarrassed.” Felix pushed, now standing in front of you, “your ears are reeedddd.”
You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, "in your dreams..."
                “I am so happy you’re here. That itself feels like a dream.” Felix suddenly leaned down to you. You looked back at him and smiled from under your mask. It was hard to pretend to be mad at his teasing.
                “Would you be comfortable with watching a movie back at my place?” He asked, “tomorrow.”
You thought for a moment, fuck it right? I mean you already went out with him and it went really well.
                “I would love to; will your roommates be okay with it though? And don’t you work?” Your eyes stayed glued to his. He let out a small huff, seemingly getting reminded of reality.
                “I’ll tell them, it should be okay though, you’re lucky the oldest thinks you’re funny, and I’ll just get you after work its fine.” Felix shrugged. You turned your head slightly. Curiosity filled you, and you felt it was now or never to ask this of him...
                “I would love to.” You started and Felix eyes lit up, “but…” His face dropped.
                “Can you please tell me where you work?” You asked, “if you can’t… it-its fine but- “ You saw Felix take a deep breath as you stumbled over your words, you didn't want to upset him with this question and you were scared you overstepped.
                “I’m an idol.”
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Taglist: @bloofairyfox @yellowroses-world @g4m3girl @forevrglow @nepytune @rensimps @curly-fr13s @amara-mars
Taglist is always open :) if I ever accidentally leave out a tag please just remind me. I have horrible goldfish memory.
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authors note: HAPPY VALENTINESSSSSSS!!!! .5 WILL BE POSTED IN TODAY TOO AND YOU WILL NOT WANT TO MISS IT TRUST ME TRUST ME TRUST ME EHHEHEEEHHEEHHEHE DOUBLE POST FOR THE HOLIDAY I LOVE YOOOU!
I hope everyone is having a wonderful valentines day and if you dont have a valentines thats okay! I will be ur valentine :)
Eat well have candy and take a small break today. its a holiday after all. treat yourself I love you!
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for the 3 sentence fic meme - Shaq and Chicago?
He goes to see live theater for the first time in - well, Derrick says it's been over a hundred years that they've been outside the land of the living. Shaq kind of believes him. Anyway, people mostly leave him to himself after the first few weeks in the Firehouse, and he takes the opportunity to actually walk around Chicago, see the parks, eat at restaurants, go to the arcade and the Lyric Opera.
He makes it through one scene of The Magic Flute before he has to slip outside for fresh air.
It's not the quiet, dark, enclosed space that does it, and it's not being packed in a room with so many people. It's fucking O zittre nicht, something about the way the scenery opens up and the Queen of the Night comes out of the moon, larger than life. Something about the glow of the spotlight held like embers in her eyes, the way her dress envelops her like a cloud of black smoke. Panic grips Shaq's chest and won't let go until he's out, whispering an apology to the people sitting on either side of him as he stumbles into the aisle and shuffles to the bright light of the exit doors.
Shaq sits down on the stairs to the mezzanine so heavily it almost knocks the wind out of him, and scrubs his hands over his face. He's being stupid. The last time his heart raced like this at the theater was when his parents took him to see Don Giovanni way too young. It's just playacting - there's nothing to be scared of.
"Goodness," one of the ushers says from the bottom of the stairs. An older woman, dark hair threaded with gray and pinned up at the nape of her neck. "I thought this one was more of a comedy."
"It is," Shaq says into his hands. Then, inanely, as if it matters, "It was my mom's favorite. She had a - a record of it. I used to listen to it to fall asleep as a kid."
"Does it always make you cry?" the usher asks.
"Just the end. Usually."
(And it's a cathartic cry; Pamina and Tamino brave the trials of the elements and prove their love for each other. Who wouldn't cry?)
The usher cocks her head. "What scared you today?"
"The Queen of the Night. " Shaq laughs, watery, like can you fucking believe? He remembers being afraid of the Queen as a kid, but not like this. Not anything that would set his heart hammering this hard.
"Is that how you see me, Shaquille Torres?"
"Fuck," he says. His hands are still over his face - probably not good to look directly at a god, or a city-avatar, or a patron, or whatever. Even if she's currently an usher who looks a little bit like an older version of his tía.
"No," he adds, finally. "I don't know."
"You cried when you first heard the Call."
"I know."
"And when you first heard the Dispa-"
"I know," he says again. Maybe it's rude to interrupt her. Maybe he shouldn't have. The rules aren't clear. "I cry a lot. Surprises make me cry."
"I cannot help being a surprise, at times," Chicago says. "And you were a surprise to me."
Shaq sighs, letting the release of air deflate him, his shoulders sagging. "Great. Then we're even."
(For the record - it is how he's always imagined her, even as far back as Kirby and Josh telling him stories about the city, though he didn't realize it until she asked. He'd never tell her. It feels impolite, to be scared of a city trying its best to welcome him.)
"You have not answered the Call," Chicago says, "to my satisfaction, Shaquille Torres."
"I was dead three weeks ago," he says, pointedly. Sure, he's been using it as a catch-all excuse for most things; in his defense, it's a pretty rock-solid excuse.
"And now you are not," Chicago says. "You are From Chicago. And you have much work to do."
"Cool," Shaq says, maybe a little more derisively than he means to, and gets to his feet.
The usher-that-was-Chicago is gone, predictably. Music is leaking through the shut doors of the theater. He probably hasn't missed much, and he's heard The Magic Flute enough times to pick up where he left off, if and when he goes back inside.
"You couldn't have caught me during Faust or something?" Shaq asks the air. He shoves his hands into his pockets, slouching back towards the theater doors. "The Fiery Angel? Fucking Hamlet? I thought you gods liked thematic cohesion."
He swears he hears a laugh in the opera house's A/C blast.
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sisterspooky1013 · 2 years
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One Lonely Night, Chapter Three
Rated M | 4943 words | Read it here on AO3
It’s predictable that Mulder will become melancholy in the days leading up to Samantha’s birthday. Even more than the anniversary of her abduction, it seems to stir up his feelings of loss and inadequacy, and his wonderment of “what if?” What if his parents had never gone to the neighbors that night? What if he’d grabbed Sam and run as soon as they saw the bright lights? What would she be doing with her life if she were still here? Or what is she doing if she’s still alive somewhere else? As with most aspects of Mulder’s life, there are many questions, but very few answers.
While her loss is quite different, in part because she has a grave at which she can visit her dead sister, Scully can empathize regarding a lost sister’s birthday. For her, the hardest part is that no one seems to remember, and it’s as though Missy was never here at all.
She looks over the selection of cakes in the bakery section of the supermarket, but they are all too childish, or too cheerful, or too uninspired for a celebration of Samantha. While Scully never had the opportunity to know her, and Mulder himself never had a chance to see what kind of person she would have become, Scully has always imagined that she would have been edgy and flippant. Where Mulder softens the corners of his ardent personality with humor, Sam would have been unapologetically intense and provocative in Scully’s image of her. And so, finding nothing that meets her standards, she instead goes to the baking aisle and prepares to make something suitable herself.
In the end, she produces twelve chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese icing that she dyes purple. On top she carefully arranges blue star-shaped sprinkles, as well as little metallic balls that look like edible bb’s. The final result is just a bit gothic, just a bit witchy, and she smiles to herself thinking that Missy would have liked them as well. On one, she plunges a single yellow candle into the icing, hoping that the “crackling flame” advertised on the package lives up to the hype.
She’s just finished cleaning up after herself and is about to call Mulder and invite him over when he appears outside her door, and even his knock is somber.
“Hey,” he says with a thin smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is it a bad time?”
“Not at all,” she says, ushering him inside. “I was just about to call you, actually, and see if you wanted to come over.”
He stops halfway to the living room and turns to give her an appraising look.
“Really?” he asks, skeptical. She nods and he asks, “Why?”
She smiles sadly as she approaches him, touching the shoulders of his jacket in encouragement to take it off and stay a while.
“I know today is hard,” she says gently, and he makes a face that she knows all too well.
“Right,” he says flatly. “Mulder, pity party of one. You don’t have to climb down into the pit of despair with me, Scully. That wasn’t my intention in coming over here.”
“What was your intention, then?” she asks as she hangs his coat. Her tone is neutral, open. She knows that people feeling sorry for him just makes him feel worse, but she isn’t entirely sure what it is that he does need.
He looks around like he’ll find the answer sitting somewhere in her apartment, and his eye falls to the tray of cupcakes in the middle of the dining room table.
“What’s this?” he asks, moving closer.
She suddenly feels embarrassed, as though she inserted herself into a celebration to which she was never invited.
“Cupcakes,” she says, and he takes advantage of the rare opportunity to be the one to roll his eyes. “For Samantha,” she elaborates. “For her birthday.”
His back is to her and he offers no response. She can see his rib cage expanding with his breaths, and one finger playing at the seam that runs down the side of his jeans. A few seconds quickly turn into half a minute, and the realization that he may find her gesture offensive slowly creeps up the back of her neck, making her stomach turn.
She tries to think of something to say, tries to imagine what she’d want someone to say to her if they inadvertently made light of the loss of her sister. Her mind reels and comes up blank, and the clock ticks steadily on in the heavy silence.
“Mulder,” she finally says, softly.
He turns to look at her and she sees that his eyes are wet and shimmering. His bottom lip is pinned between his teeth, and his nostrils flare as he works to keep his emotions in check.
“Did you make these?” he asks, his voice a hoarse whisper, and she nods.
He turns away from her again and she hears a wet sniff, and then sees him lift his hand briefly to his face. She feels like she’s intruding, though this is her apartment. She feels like she did something wrong.
Cautiously, she steps closer to him and touches the hand that hangs limply at his side. He turns to her abruptly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug that initially surprises her, and it takes her a moment to relax into his embrace. She threads her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed to the cotton of his T-shirt that smells faintly of his deodorant and the fabric softener she finally convinced him to start using. He squeezes her so tight it’s a little uncomfortable, but she lets him have it.
“Thank you,” he says after a while, loosening his grip enough to look at her face. She can tell he wants to say more, but can’t find the words.
They light the candle and sing Happy Birthday with awkward smiles, and the flame does indeed crackle delightfully. Scully tells Mulder to make a wish on Samantha’s behalf, and he stares at the flame for a long while before he seems to decide on something, then pulls in a big breath and blows it out. Mulder eats three cupcakes and Scully eats one, and they end up on the couch with cups of tea and one big flannel blanket draped across both their laps, a fire crackling in the hearth.
“What do you think Melissa would be doing if she were still alive?” he asks her with a trace of trepidation on his face.
She smiles to assure him that the question doesn’t upset her.
“I think she’d be living in a van, driving around the country visiting all the places our father never let us stop for on road trips,” she answers fondly.
He’s quiet for a beat, his eyes trained on the slowly blooming fire.
“I think Sam would have been something like a lawyer, because she was smart and she loved to argue. But she also liked to piss my parents off, so she would have done something philanthropic like environmental law or pro-bono work exonerating innocent people on death row,” he answers, a wistful smirk on his mouth.
“And what do you think you’d be doing if Samantha were never taken?” she asks, and he looks over her with a mildly shocked expression.
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly.
“You’ve never thought about it?” she questions, genuinely surprised.
“I guess not,” he says, turning back to the fire. “It’s almost beyond the realm of being imaginable.”
Scully sets her cup on the coffee table and leans against the back of the couch, watching the side of his face as firelight flickers over the curve of his jaw and the proud bridge of his nose.
“I think you’d still have ended up studying psychology,” she theorizes, and his mouth quirks at her supposition. “But maybe instead of working in violent crimes you’d have gone into private practice as a therapist of some kind.”
He nods in acceptance of this possible other path for his life.
“I’d be helping people,” he offers.
She narrows her eyes at him, though he doesn’t see it.
“You help people now, Mulder,” she says, and he huffs a joyless laugh.
“If Samantha were never taken, I wouldn’t know you, Scully,” he says, changing the subject.
“That’s true,” she agrees. She’s afraid he’s going to start listing the ways in which her life would be better if they’d never met, so she takes the conversation in another direction. “Perhaps we’d have crossed paths in a different way, though.”
He turns his head slowly and throws her a mischievous smile.
“That sounds like you’re talking fate, Scully. A concept you don’t believe in, if I correctly recall,” he teases, and she wrinkles her nose at him.
“I said nothing of the sort,” she defends, though her tone is jovial. “But, I don’t know, if the path of my life were otherwise unchanged, I’d still have been working at Quantico. There are any number of ways you and I might have met, living in the same geographical area.”
Mulder shakes his head dismissively.
“But who knows where I’d be, Scully. I may have never gone to Oxford, never ended up back on the East Coast. I might have been anywhere in the country, or the world for that matter,” he reasons.
“Or, maybe you’d have gone to UMD, and stayed on as faculty,” she retorts. “We may still have ended up in the same place at the same time.”
He laughs, a genuinely amused bark of a sound, and it makes her feel warm and satisfied with how the evening is going.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” he says, a smile still playing on his mouth. He shifts slightly so he’s facing her, and she feels the excitement of an impending repartee. “Say I was a professor at UMD when you were enrolled there, and you were in one of my classes, then what?”
“Well,” she says, buying time to formulate an answer. “I’d probably have been your least favorite student, and you would’ve cringed every time I raised my hand.”
“What makes you say that?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.
“Because the dynamic of our relationship would have been different. You’d be in a position of authority and I don’t think you’d have found me challenging you in front of your other students very enjoyable,” she speculates, imagining herself as an eager undergrad and him as a confident young professor, leaning against the lectern with wire-rimmed glasses and jeans paired with his blazer.
“I don’t think that’s true,” he says doubtfully. “I think I would enjoy a lively debate with you in any setting, authority or not.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll never know,” she concludes, and he nods.
“You must think about what your life would be like,” he says, and she’s disappointed to hear that melancholy has crept back into his tone. “If Sam weren’t taken, if we never met.”
She lifts one shoulder in half a shrug.
“I think we all wonder about different paths our lives may have taken if just one key detail were changed, but I’ve never considered it in that specific context, no,” she answers truthfully.
“You’d probably be married, have children. Missy would still be here,” he posits, and she sighs as she sees that they have ended up right where she had hoped they wouldn’t go tonight: the place where Mulder spells out the precise ways in which he’s ruined her life along with his own.
“You have no way of knowing that, Mulder,” she says a little too derisively. “And who’s to say I even want those things?”
He looks at her sharply.
“Don’t you?” he asks incredulously.
“You’re missing the point, Mulder,” she says, softening. “You’re comparing the life I have to some theoretical life, some theoretical husband and children who don’t exist. Do I want a family someday? Yes, I do. But that doesn’t mean that if I had the opportunity to trade the life I have for one in which I have a husband and children at the press of a button or the fip of a switch that I’d do it. For all I know, that theoretical husband is an asshole, and those theoretical kids are brats,” she finishes, and he considers her for a beat.
“I didn’t know that,” he admits, and she can see that he’s still processing.
“You act as though you’re holding me hostage, Mulder,” she says, touching his arm. “I’m here because I want to be. I wake up every day and choose to continue your work, our work, with you. I could have walked away a hundred times, but I didn’t. That’s my choice, not just some circumstance of my life that I begrudgingly accept.”
He heaves a sigh, his eyes on his lap. How such an incredible person can think so little of himself is something that never ceases to astound her, and, as is often the case, she feels defensive on his behalf.
“Is it really so hard for you to believe that I’m still here because I want to be?” she asks, and now he is the one to shrug.
“To be honest, yes,” he offers. “The work is personal to me, but I do legitimately have a hard time understanding why you keep banging your head against this particular wall. The logical conclusion is that it’s out of a sense of duty or commitment, because you want to finish what you started. And that’s noble, Scully, without question. But it still makes me feel shitty to know that my unwinnable cause is the one you’ve hung your hat on.”
She feels irritation bubble, but tries to push it aside. To take what he’s saying personally would make her just as guilty as he is, because in the end it’s a reflection of how he feels about himself and has nothing to do with her. He will never believe that she follows him willingly as long as he is unable to see himself as someone worthy of being followed.
She scoots away from him a bit and then tugs on his arm. He looks at her quizzically and she cocks her head toward her end of the couch, murmuring “come on.” Slowly, he eases himself down until he’s lying on his side with his head resting in her lap and his legs curled up on the opposite end of the couch. They both watch the fire as she runs her fingers through his hair and over the back of his neck. She feels him relax in increments, and eventually he closes his eyes.
“You know, Mulder,” she says softly, feeling the downy hairs at the nape of his neck tickle her fingertips, “you’re quite the enigma.”
He smiles, but doesn’t open his eyes.
“You’re the enigmatic one in this partnership, Scully,” he says sleepily.
“Mmmm, I don’t think so,” she counters, brushing her palm over his upper arm. “You’re concurrently the most egotistical and the most insecure person I’ve ever met.”
He opens his eyes and rolls onto his back, looking up at her from her lap. One of her hands comes to rest on his chest, the other on the top of his head.
“I’m not sure which of those I should find more insulting,” he says somewhat playfully, and she smirks down at him.
“You seem to have come to the conclusion,” she says slowly, carefully choosing her words, “that you’re difficult to be around or spend time with. And that isn’t true, Mulder.”
He cringes for only a millisecond, quickly recovering his unaffected demeanor. In what is surely some kind of Freudian reflex, he plucks her hand off the top of his head and drapes it over his eyes.
“I’m going to ask you to fact-check that sentiment next time we’re on a case,” he says flatly, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive posture.
“Well, you have your moments,” she concedes, “as do I. But I’m not putting up with you out of some sense of obligation. This is where I want to be.”
“On this couch?” he asks defiantly.
“Yes, among other places. With you,” she says softly.
He is quiet, and after a beat she slowly lifts her hand off his eyes. He blinks up at her, his expression unreadable. He sighs and then sits up, rubbing his hands over his face before he stands and heads toward the door.
“I should get going,” he says, stuffing his feet in his shoes and reaching for his jacket.
Scully is stunned, confused, and a little bit hurt. She did not expect her vulnerability to be met with a hasty exit, and she certainly doesn’t feel like she successfully made this day any easier for him.
“Why?” she asks, following him to the door.
“It’s late, we have work in the morning, I can’t reasonably ask you to continue wallowing on my behalf, take your pick,” he says glibly, reaching for the doorknob.
She swats his hand away and moves to stand between him and the exit, leveling him with an incensed scowl.
“Will you stop trying to dictate how I should feel?” she says angrily, her face tipped up to look at him as she barely reaches his shoulder in her stocking feet.
“I never said anything about how you should feel, Scully,” he replies, his tone defeated.
“Maybe not in as many words, but the sentiment is there,” she retorts. “What if I want to wallow with you? What if I want to sit here all night and be sad about your sister?”
He shakes his head, not meeting her eye.
“You don’t have to do that,” he says quietly.
“You’re right, I don’t have to,” she agrees. “But I want to. And you can’t seem to allow me to choose to do something with or for you without deciding that it’s some act of martyrdom. You’re perfectly happy to ask me to do all manner of ridiculous and arduous things, but the moment I choose to do it of my own volition, you become so overcome with guilt that you push me away. And that is exactly what you’re doing right now, Mulder.”
His shoulders slump, his eyes dropping to the floor. The fight has gone out of him, which feels like a moderate victory.
“What do you want me to do?” he asks, barely audible.
“I want you to stay,” she replies, grabbing his hand. “And be sad, or be angry, or be whatever it is that you are. Just don’t shut me out.”
He glances at her and then quickly away, looking into the kitchen.
“It’s 10:30, Scully,” he reasons. “It’s past your bedtime.”
To that she gives him a small smile.
“Then let’s go to bed,” she says matter-of-factly, and he turns his head slowly back towards her, his eyes narrowed skeptically.
“Go to bed?” he repeats, and she nods.
“Uh, okay,” he acquiesces, and she nods resolutely.
They’ve shared a bed before, on numerous occasions, but never without a logistical reason for doing so. She thinks back to their case in Arcadia Falls, and the face mask she smeared on in order to distract him from the disturbingly short nightgown that was part of Laura Petrie’s wardrobe. Tonight, she dons her sensible silk pajama set and fishes a spare toothbrush out from under her bathroom sink, feeling nervous and retroactively brazen about her invitation that he stay over. She hadn’t thought it through further than not wanting him to sit at his apartment alone and distraught, but when he starts to make his way toward the couch she rolls her eyes and tells him he’s too old to be sleeping on couches.
She can see him internally debating over what to sleep in, and in the end he crawls under the covers in his boxers and T-shirt, his jeans neatly folded on top of her dresser. She avoids his eye as she switches off the bedside lamp, and the relative darkness offers a kind of anonymity that makes it less awkward. She can see the general outline of his form well enough in the amber light of the streetlamps to know that he is lying on his back, but not well enough to see his expression, or whether his eyes are open or closed. She curls up on her side facing him, feeling the buzz of his thoughts punctuated by the occasional sigh.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, unbearably curious, and he blows a little puff of air out through his nose.
“What do you think?” he asks dryly.
“I genuinely have no idea,” she answers, and there is a long silence.
“I was thinking about Samantha’s last birthday. Before she was taken,” he finally says. She waits for him to elaborate. “I didn’t get her anything.”
“Why?” she asks, careful not to let any trace of criticism into her tone.
He heaves a sigh and rolls to his side. Their faces are close enough that she can smell the mint on his breath, but his features are obscured by darkness.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I think it just didn’t really occur to me. I was preoccupied with twelve-year-old things like basketball tryouts and whether Tracy Henderson liked me back. It wasn’t until Sam blew out the candles and mom brought out the gift from her and dad that I realized.”
She waits a beat, deciding whether to comfort him or let him sit in his uncomfortable feeling.
“My brothers never really got me anything for my birthday,” she says, opting for comfort. “My mom always said the gift was from the family, but I know Bill and Charlie never had any part in it. Missy always got me something just from her, though.”
“Did that bother you?” he asks. “That Bill and Charlie never did anything?”
“No,” she answers, honestly and emphatically. “I don’t think kids care much about things like that. They just want to get a gift at all, it doesn’t really matter who it’s from.”
There is another long, contemplative stretch of silence, and she slides her palm across the cool sheets between them and finds his forearm. She lays her hand gently atop it, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“You were a good brother, Mulder,” she says quietly. “You still are.”
He sighs in response.
“Thanks,” he mutters, but she senses that it’s a platitude.
He doesn’t, and perhaps never will, believe that he is a good anything, work accomplishments aside. It dawns on her that perhaps that’s why he clings so tightly to his work; it’s the only area of his life in which he ever feels competent.
She scoots a little closer to him, feeling protective, and her toes brush against his shins.
“Sorry,” she whispers, embarrassed. “I’m invading your space.”
“No, you’re not,” he assures her, wriggling incrementally closer himself. “You can be closer, if you want. It’s your bed.”
She smiles in the general direction of his aphotic face, surprised by the lack of awkwardness in their current situation. She wonders how they haven’t done this sooner.
Her hand still grips his arm lightly, her feet resting near enough his legs to feel the brush of his wiry hairs. His body radiates warmth, his smell a familiar comfort. She repositions herself slightly to alleviate a seam on her pajama top digging uncomfortably into her side, and when she’s once again situated there is no more than the width of their overlapping arms between them. Instinctively, she knows his eyes are open.
He lifts his arm suddenly, and she initially thinks he’s brushing hers off until he grabs her hand, wrapping it up in both of his and pressing her knuckles to his lips. He holds them there for a long moment, then returns their now-joined hands to the narrow space between them, his head falling forward enough that their foreheads touch.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he says in a very small voice, almost as though he’s speaking to himself.
“I promise you won’t have to find out,” she says quietly back, and he makes a little humming sound in the back of his throat.
Static electricity crackles around them, her positive to his negative charge drawing them closer. It’s so slight she doesn’t notice it until she feels the brush of his mouth against hers. Even then, it’s increments closer until that mouth is pressed in a kiss, passive and unimpassioned. Her heart, however, understands the significance of the gesture, and it pounds in her ears as Mulder’s lips sit idly against hers, waiting.
She gives his hand a little squeeze.
He opens his mouth then, just enough to draw her bottom lip between his. The inside of his mouth is hot and wet and she wants more of it, but the room is so quiet and he is so close, and she’s not entirely sure what’s happening.
“Scully,” he says around her lip, as though speaking with his mouth full.
“Hm?”
“I think I’m kissing you.”
Her mouth stretches into a smile that pulls her lip from his grasp.
“Is that what that was?” she asks playfully, her nerves a tangled mess in her belly.
“Is that okay?” he asks, doubt suddenly present in his voice.
“Yes,” she says, pushing her foot between his calves. “It’s okay.”
“Okay like you’re not mad, or okay like—”
She silences him with a kiss, a real one, and then another. And another. It’s been years, too many, since she kissed anyone, much less like this. She’s forgotten how much fun it is, how good it feels, just to kiss and kiss and kiss.
He rolls her to her back and assumes a superior position, hovering over her possessively. In time, his hips are cradled between her thighs, and she feels him hard and eager against her. He’s at once deferential and dominant, asking for her consent before he pins her hands to the bed above her head and makes her whimper. She’s lit up with excitement and fear as she pulls one hand from his grasp and slips it under his boxers, feeling herself swell as he moans against her neck, thrusting in and out of her fist.
He’s careful and reverent with her body, dropping kisses over every square inch of her skin and murmuring little compliments that may have come off as crass if not for the absolute adoration he voices them with. By the time she sits astride his naked lap, their relative size difference is rendered unimportant by the soaking slip between her legs, and there is no pain. She’s quiet, insecure and uncomfortable with this newness, but he seems to know just where and how to touch her, so that she forgets to be self-conscious and gives the neighbors something to talk about in the mail room. When it’s his turn, he attempts to push her hips up and off him, but she assures him it’s okay, unless he doesn’t want to. He kisses her desperately as they make a mess of her sheets, too lust-drunk to think about wet spots or unlikely miracles.
Cleaned up, re-dressed because somehow it feels too soon for prolonged nudity, they find that she fits just perfectly tucked under his chin, her arm slung across his waist. They lie awake, silent but humming with shock and exhilaration, and a million questions that will need to be answered, but not tonight. Just when she starts to fear that it was a mistake, he runs his fingers through her hair and kisses the crown of her head. Just when she can feel tension building in his body, his mind growing more distant, she burrows her nose into the skin of his neck and he relaxes.
She hears the sound of his lips parting, and then the draw of a breath, but nothing follows.
“What?” she asks, bracing herself.
“Nothing, sorry,” he mumbles, giving her a squeeze.
They are quiet for a moment, her mind rushing with possibilities regarding what he’d been about to say, when he speaks again.
“I was just going to say thank you. For the cupcakes, but also just for sticking around. For choosing to.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Mulder,” she says, and the tone of her voice makes clear that he is once again taking the angle that she only does these things out of obligation.
“I know,” he says insistently, squeezing her again. “I don’t have to thank you, but I want to,” he adds in a playful tone that makes her smile against his chest.
They sleep. Not altogether soundly, unused to another body so close, but contentedly. She wakes to the minky haze of 4:00 am and Mulder pressed stiffly against her back. She rouses him with a kiss, a touch. The sun will soon rise and the reality of what they’ve done will catch up to them, but just for now she can savor the scratch of his stubble against her skin and the heat of his groin against her own. She can draw her nails down his back and know that she’s marked him underneath his suit jacket, claiming him as hers. She can whimper his name, pour it straight into his ear, a word she’s said a million times, but never like this. Never like this.
“Mulder,” she rasps, and he cups her cheek, drawing his thumb over her lips.
“I know,” he says on an exhale, resting his forehead against hers. “I know.”
Tagging @today-in-fic
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bubblybookworm4 · 11 months
Text
Sweet Assumptions
Part 3~The Playwriting Project
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Requested: Yes/No
TW: Mention of harsh punishments
Word Count: About 1.6k
Overall Summary
Part Summary: Y/N and the Quagmires hang out in the library after school.
Current Setting: The library at Prufrock, Y/Ns dorm room
A/N: Do you like that I included other media in this part?
Read the other parts here—> Masterlist
* I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events or any videos and images included below the gray line*
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Five Days Later …
You excitedly skim through the latest theatrical review in the Daily Punctilio. Seeping up any joy you could get from anything music related. Which was one of the only things keeping you sane lately. Along with the Quagmires, of course.
Resting your chin on your hands, you take in the bright afternoon glow. Isadora was curled up on a couch with a poetry book she probably read already. And Duncan was leaning against a bookshelf analyzing some articles. The three of you had lots of quiet moments like this. Focusing on your tasks together. It was your way of bonding and an escape from others, like Carmelita, who made living contently, rough.
But you had each other, and no one has been bothering you lately. The tricking last Thursday seemed to hold up. Still, without any pestering, life at Prufrock was drier than ever before.
Returning to reading, you contemplated the reviews worth. It could be glorified along with your favorites like The Music Man, Anything Goes, and West Side Story. Which you dreamed of seeing be performed and be part of their performance yourself someday. You sit up from the floor, deciding it wasn’t as enlightening as you hoped. Returning it to its place, Miss Caliban swooped in next to you. Organizing the piles, while you browse the music section for the millionth time.
“Find anything?” She asks, turning to her cart.
“ Not today, “ you shrugged. The two of you made your way through the aisles. Reading the titles as you walked by.
“ Hmm . . . Have you ever thought of writing your own musical?” She suggested, pushing her cart to another bookshelf. Could you? Wondering, you follow her dazily. You’d dabbled in songwriting, but the works were never set to a storyline. You weren't much of a writer either. At least it could be a fun little project.
“ I’m not sure,” you comment hesitantly. She pulls a few books from the shelf, placing them on her cart.
“ You have more hidden talent than you give yourself credit for Y/N. I believe all you need are the right tools to unlock it.“ She gives you a small book, with a color-blocked cover. You look down to see Playwrights on Playwriting lying in your hands. Sending a burst of hope through your veins. She could be right, you would never know what you are capable of if you never tried.
Flipping through the pages, you walk back to your friends. Plopping down next to Isadora.
“ What do you have there?” Duncan peeks over. Looking up, you snap the book shut. And display the cover.
“ Playwrights on Playwriting,” you noted. Isadora sets her book down.
“ I know you love the theater, but are you planning on writing a play now?” she mentions, confused.
“ That in fact I am,” you state. Going back to page one. Reading wasn’t your first choice of a passtime, not compared to Isadora anyway. Still, when you did you were always drawn toward fiction. Fantasies gave you the spark of music, and movies did. Another way you escape reality. This book was different from those but caught your attention immediately. Explaining the art with simplicity and magic.
The Quagmires were talking but you were drawn in. Completing 100 pages in an hour. Inspired you to set it down. Excitedly thinking over character arcs and conveying emotion through song. Immersed with ideas, you stand, carrying yourself lightly.
“Found the perfect book, didn’t you?” Isadora smiles up at you from her spot on the floor next to Duncan.
“ Oh yes,” you respond. “ It's just amaz …” The loudspeaker clicks on overhead. Both startling and interrupting you.
“Quagmire orphans, please report to the main office at 6 o’clock sharp” The vice principal dictated, “ And… and! This would be a perfect time for a solo.“ He starts up a butchered version of The Chaconne from Sonata No. 2. You cover your ears, his playing ruins the music for you. Never again would you be able to hear The Chaconne without these awful notes intruding.
“ I wonder what we are needed for?” Ducan yells over the screeching violin. He looks at his sister, who is wincing at the sound. Each of you bore through another minute of his performance.
“ Oh please, hold the applause,” Nero finishes, the loudspeaker falling silent.
“ I don’t think anyone was clapping in the first place, “ you remark, sitting down next to your friends.
“ You can say that again, “ Isadora adds, shutting her book. While Duncan piles his articles into a messy stack. “ I guess it's almost six,” she looks at her watch. The siblings start to get up from the ground. When a faint noise makes you look behind.
“ I heard new students are coming to Prufrock” the librarian states leaning against one of the shelves. Her sudden appearance startled each of you.
“ But why would the Vice principal need to see us just because of some new students?” Duncan asks. That very same question was running through your mind as well. Isadora puts away her and her brother's books while awaiting a response from Miss Caliban.
“ That's something I think you’ll need to find out for yourself,” As on cue the clock above the door strikes six.
“ We need to get going, now,” Isadora says. They walk towards the door and you follow.
“ Wait” the siblings look back “ Fill me in tomorrow?” you propose. Isadora nods, before rushing out of sight. Smiling sadly you turn away. Strolling wistfully through the now dim corridors. Finding yourself in the back corner. A dusty standup piano with chipped paint sits in front of a small window. Many instruments lean up against it. Some hastily piled in the space between the bookshelf and wall. They are worthless with age but all yours.
Library goers always pass by this space without a second glance. So since you first played a note here you claimed the space. You amble over to the bench, opening its compartment. Peering inside you check for your notebook, which was just where you left it. It keeps everything from your most promising harmonies to your silliest ideas. You’d be devastated if you lost it. You place the playwriting book beside it for safekeeping.
Shutting the top you slide onto its creaky seat. Naturally, your fingers hover over the C position. You stop to gaze across the library. Landing where your friends once sat. You think about their meeting's outcome. You'd hate for them to leave. Although it would be great if they got moved out of the orphan shack. Oh well, you’ll have to hear about it tomorrow. It's pretty late already, but it's never too late for music.
You stand relishing in this place where your emotions flow free. You turn to the almost barren musical theater shelf. On it, a wide book with an off-white cover stands. You pull it off and skim through the crisp pages. You prop The Singer’s Musical Theatre Anthology Teen Edition for Soprano on the rickety music stand. It's the only theater selection book this library has and the only show tunes you'd ever known. Besides the ones, you heard when you went to see The Sound of Music.
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You slide back on the piano bench, preparing to play. Every week you made it your goal to be able to perform a new song from it. Today was Ten Minutes Ago from Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella. Finding it on page 38, you hit the first note. D, G, A, G, D you sight read, shaping the first phrase. Then next D, C sharp, D. Repeating this, you fill the room with song. Once comfortable playing the first verse you added your voice.
Play the Song⬇️
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♫Ten minutes ago I saw you
I looked up when you came through the door
My head started reeling
You gave me the feeling the room had no ceiling or floor …♫
Stop the song
Music makes your heart overflow with bliss. When you sang it was no different. Opening your eyes, you find yourself smiling from ear to ear. Practicing further you are immersed in song. The melodies swirl beautifully around you. Bringing the library back to life. You memorize the first three sections painlessly.
Closing the music book, you look out through the window. Noticing the sun has already set. Was it that late already? Swiftly, you lift off the bench. Putting everything you had out away. It wasn’t normal for you to lose track of time, you think. God knows you hate walking in the dark. But you’ll have to deal. You sweep your messenger bag up off the floor. Then stand soberly reflecting on your night. Only to be startled, for the second time, by the loudspeaker.
“Curfew is in 15 minutes” Nero announces absently from overhead. In response, you come beside the door. If the punishment for being late to class was having your hands tied, who knows what would happen if you missed curfew? Well, you sure weren't going to be the one who found out.
You opened the door and slid out cautiously. If you were caught at the library after hours you’d have to clip the vice principal's toenails. One of the more grueling effects of disobeying the rules. Seeing the coast was clear, you jogged all the way. Yours was unfortunately the farthest away the school dorms could get, prolonging travel times.
Clicking open the doorknob, you crash into your room with six minutes to spare. You sprawl out on your cheap twin-size bed, heart rate still skyrocketing. Grinning sleepily, you are thrilled for a new day. Who knows what could happen?
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uno-nessuno-100000 · 2 years
Text
Rice and broken dreams
A tiny, but noisy church, even in the early morning. The bells ring through the whole town, their feisty sound fills people’s hearts. Just outside the church’s doors, people stand, everyone has a bright smile on their faces. Children that giggle and run all over the place, well-dressed parents and warm-eyed elders. Hand shakes, kisses on cheeks, pats on the shoulders and wide eyed gazes. In the middle of the crowd stands a man, with black trousers and jacket, pristine, perfectly ironed white shirt, tie tight at his neck, brand new shoes and flowers in his little pocket. His hand is holding the one of a woman, her white dress and shiny hair barely covered by a long veil, she is lifting the hem of her long skirt with her free hand so that she won’t trip. Their radiant faces show such emotion, for their two souls are now bonded for eternity. The church is flooded with the bright sunlight, the well-kept garden around it invaded with the colors of spring and its flowers bothered by careful bees flying about. Then, there’s the rice. So, so much rice, in people’s fancy hair, along the brick pathway that leads outside the churchyard, it’s even ended up inside some children’s shoes. Walking through the door, and down the aisle, you can’t help but notice that it’s covered in it too, just like the benches where the guests just a few moments ago have appreciated the ceremony.
While everyone slowly departs with light minds and hearts, to celebrate in the local restaurant; a woman kneels on the cold hard marble, and gathers up the rice with her bare hands. 
In her mind, however, she’s elsewhere. In her mind, she’s the one wearing white. In her dream, she’s surrounded by people with bright faces, and she feels a hand reaching hers. She doesn’t feel the cold floor, because she’s standing proudly among the adoring crowd. She’s aware that these people would do anything for her. They will never let her go, will never do her harm and will never mess with her. She believes she sees people who will never make her feel lonely, and her heart warms at the thought. It’s so easy to be happy in mere fantasies. Deep down, she just needs someone to help her pick up the rice.
The woman finally stands, her aching back and knees protest under her weight. It’s already dark outside, and not one grain of rice is left in the church. The walk home is brief, not more than five minutes, spent wondering about a future that will never come, to distract herself from the passer-bys’ gazes. You always have to show the world your carefree side, if you don’t want pity or malice. Only when she closes the door behind her, she lets the smile slip from her face, the muscles in her cheeks finally relax and she closes her eyes for a second, reassured by her home’s familiar scent. It’s easier, here, living in illusions. It’s so simple to imagine someone by her side when she wakes up in the morning or when she goes to bed. Someone to share the lonely nights with and to keep her entertained. Someone who could actually eat in the extra seat at the table she sets every lunch and dinner, to attempt to get rid of the melancholy. 
Despite her desperate desire for company, she still observes the outside world from her closed window that shows the main town street, to try and catch a glimpse of a life she’ll never live. Despite all this, she’s always got a smile and a timid greeting for the people who look at her from behind the glass.
In the meantime, in the house right next to the church, a priest sits straight at a table, with a blank page lying in front of him and a pencil in his hand as he tries to focus. He tries to come up with useless words for the people of the village the next morning. But we all know that it’s pointless to speak with someone who won’t listen. Sighing, the man stands up, and humming a little tune goes back into his room, where he starts darning the socks that had built up on his bed. It’s the dead of night, and he still doesn’t know what he will say tomorrow during his sermon. And he doesn’t care at all. 
Some days later, everyone who enters the church can notice in the shadows a woman’s outline. If you try to get her attention, she will not react. Some rice grains still lie at her feet.
It’s never easy, for a priest, to hold a funeral. It’s heartbreaking to soothe those who lost an important part of their lives. Sometimes, though, there’s no need to comfort anyone, because there’s no one who needs comfort. 
Father Mckenzie, wiping absentmindedly the dirt from his hands with a handkerchief, walks away from the lonely tombstone. In memory of Eleanor Rigby, says the bare grave. She left behind just rice and broken dreams.
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hina5enpai · 6 months
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Empty Eyes: Book 1 Ch 2
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Yet another sigh slipped past my lips as I impatiently waited for my trial. The two guards that were watching me showed no signs of hearing that sigh or one of the other dozen I'd let out.
For the first time in my life, I was behind the famous wall. I'd honestly hoped it'd be under better conditions. Maybe I'd work hard for a most of my years and finally be able to retire behind the walls in a high class society. I hadn't ever imagined it'd be with shackles weighing my wrists and ankles down for an accidental death threat toward the royal family. Mom always said my mouth would be what did me in.
Ideas on how to talk my way out of this were flying through my head, but I figured the right one would appear when the time came. I've always been good at getting myself out of punishment as long as it isn't my mom giving it out. When I was in school, I cut Ino's hair while she wasn't paying attention and convinced the teacher that she'd done it herself even though many others had seen me do it.
A bittersweet smile graced my lips at the memory. Ino and I have always fought like cats and dogs, but we've always been closer than two peas in a pod. That's what happens when you're twins with nearly no other friends. I didn't make many female friends growing up because I was too much of a tomboy for them and Ino didn't make many because all the boys always loved her and the other girls didn't like that. Naruto had been one of those boys and still is, honestly. I wonder if he'll finally give up since he now knows that Ino isn't the only beautiful girl the world has to offer.
We'd been standing outside a large golden door that apparently leads to the trial room for so long, I'd lost count. The castle we were in was a mere stone compared to the diamond that was the Uchiha castle, but that didn't mean that it didn't have the most elegant interior I've ever seen. The floor and walls were made of what looked like pearl, with the trim and doors being at least coated in gold. Even with all of the brightness, the halls and rooms seemed dark. There was an air of unease throughout the building, as if all it's inhabitants had a dark cloud hanging over them.
With a loud rumble, the double doors finally slid open and I was shoved forward by the two guards. I stumbled forward, the shackles on my ankles making it hard to walk. There were hushed voices erupting all around me. I looked up to see the room was actually quite crowded.
One either side of the small aisle I was stumbling down, dozens of onlookers were seated with unhindered looks of disgust on their faces as they studied my dirty dress and messy hair. I kept my gaze as steady as possible facing the three thrones at the head of the room. Each of the seats were empty, but decorated with useless expensive jewels. A handful of "honored" guests sat to the left of the thrones, their clothing, hair, and makeup all unnecessarily fancy for a simple hearing. The only other door in the room was to the right of the thrones and it opened up as soon as the guards and I reached the front of the room.
Three people walked haughtily out of the room and ceremoniously strode over to their respective thrones before pausing to gauge the room and finally sitting. These weren't the Uchihas. These were the Uchihas' carefully selected judges. They each came from a different noble family, but I couldn't remember their names.
"State your name and your crime." The stoic man in the middle, larger, throne spoke in a cold voice.
My previous ease on the subject of talking my way out of this flew out the window. This man made me uncomfortable. He didn't seem much older than me, but he seemed aged beyond his years with sheer seriousness alone.
One of the guards nudged my shoulder to try and get me to answer, but the force of it threw me to the ground. I hadn't eaten in two days and was really starting to feel it. "S-Sakura Haruno and I committed no crime!" The guard that'd pushed me gave me a kick to the side, sending me into a hunched ball to try and soften the hot pain that erupted in my torso as a result.
"The wench threatened the royal family and guards with death."
I simply stayed down where I was. I didn't have the energy to care how long I'd be imprisoned. At least I'd be fed with a roof over my head.
"These accusations have a penalty of death. The royal family holds no lenience for treason. What do you say in your defense, Sakura Haruno?"
My eyes shot open and I struggled to my feet, failing and only being able to get to my knees, "I didn't do it, sir! I-I did say something terrible in a fit of hysteria, b-b-but it was by no means to be taken as a serious threat to the crown!" Tears were filling my eyes. I couldn't die yet! There were so many things I'd yet to accomplish.
The man leaned forward in his chair, "So you did utter negative words against the Uchiha name? Out of hysteria or not?"
My heart dropped. They wouldn't even pardon a purely vocal lack in judgement? I couldn't reply. My life was flashing before my eyes and I just knew I'd be executed for my accidental crime. The whispering in the room got louder suddenly and I glanced up to see a familiar figure striding nervously across the floor from the group of honored guests.
Hinata was interrupting the trial! A sliver of hope rose in my throat and I struggled again to get to my feet, this time succeeding. She leaned down to whisper into the cold man's ear for a few moments, only for his eyes to widen and turn back to look at me with what looked like a new light. "Sakura Haruno will be pardoned of the death penalty. Instead, I sentence her to three months of service to the noble and royal families, to be carried out immediately."
The room busted into cries of anger and disagreement as I was pulled by my arms past the thrones and through the door the three judges had come from. We were followed by the judges and Hinata. The room got significantly quieter as the door shut behind them.
Once my shackles were removed, Hinata sent away the guards and held my hands in her own, "S-Sakura, I am so sorry I couldn't free you completely!"
I was overcome with shock and tears fell from my eyes, "No! I can't thank you enough for helping me, Hinata! I owe you my life!"
I bowed my head in respect to her and the others that were silently watching us. The man that'd sentenced me stepped forward and ripped my hands from Hinata's, "I am Neji Hyuga, primary judge of all Konohagakure legal courts and future head of the Hyuga household. Do not think you are a friend to Hinata. I let you live per the request of a noble and nothing more. You are no more than a slave for the next 90 days and you should act as such."
Hinata looked at the ground sadly, but I couldn't blame her for her family member's coldness. She'd saved my life and I'd forever be in her debt. The other two judges didn't speak, but looked on with those empty, rich, eyes as Neji lead me out of the room and through many hallways until we arrived at an exit where we then boarded a horse-drawn carriage. We could've easily used a vehicle, but it seemed the nobles preferred to do everything in the most unnecessary way, be it travel or dressing.
We rode in silence for nearly an hour. He and Hinata sat on the cushioned seats while I sat on the floor in a weak heap. Will this be like Cinderella where a prince will eventually save me? I shook my head. That's something Ino would think at a time like this. I would do my time to the best of my ability, learning as much about the higher-class as I could so it would be easier for me to fit in when I eventually make it.
We came to a stop a while later and I was pulled out of the carriage by two guards. When I looked up, I nearly fainted at the sight that met my eyes. The Uchiha castle lay before me in all it's glory. I'd never noticed before because the wall was too high, but the whole place was surrounded by forest as far as the eye could see. No wonder it took us so long to arrive. It was even more breathtaking up close.
The stone that had appeared light from the distance was actually a shiny black. It struck me as funny how they hid all of this darkness behind such a colorful wall. A cold sweat was forming on my forehead as I weakly struggled to walk tall. The two guards that were meant to control me if I had an outburst were actually helping me stay upright. The sun was high in the sky, meaning it was nearly noon. The day already seemed so long.
The sky disappeared as I was pretty much dragged through a side door of the palace and lead through hallway after hallway until we finally stopped in a large family room. I then realized that Hinata and Neji were no longer with us and I was alone with complete strangers. Showy couches and decorations lay about with an over-sized fireplace as the centerpiece to the giant room. A gigantic portrait of six dark-haired people was hung proudly over it.
I closed my eyes as we stood there waiting for something to happen. My ears were ringing and it felt as though my stomach was caving in on itself. My head lolled from side to side as I fought unconsciousness. Heeled footsteps against the linoleum floor pulled my attention from my condition and urged my eyes to open.
The most beautiful woman I'd ever seen was walking towards us. She had a perfectly curvy body with pale skin and healthy black hair. Her blood red lips were parted in a blinding smile as she approached us, "Hello! Welcome to the Uchiha Palace. My name is Mikoto Uchiha. You must be Sakura Haruno. I'm very pleased to meet you!" The bottom of her black evening gown pulled behind her like the train of a wedding day veil as she approached. Mikoto's voice was mature and warm.
The guards released my arms and I immediately fell to the floor, unconscious.
When I woke back up, I was laying on something incredibly comfortable, like a cloud or a mound of cotton. I heard an angry male voice speaking in a hushed tone with somebody, "How dare they send us an ill servant! I'll have to speak with Hiashi about Neji's decision making."
Mikoto's voice replied, bringing me back to reality, "Now, darling, please be calm. She looks positively famished. I'm sure she'll become a great member of our household once she's been fed and washed up. Let's give her a chance before doing anything hasty."
There was a pause so long that I even opened my eyes to look over at their shadows on the floor by the bed I lay on.
"Very well, but she's to be Sasuke and Sai's servant. I don't want her anywhere near Madara."
There was the unfamiliar sound of the two sharing a kiss before Mikoto came into view with a brilliant smile on her lips as she lay eyes on me, "Oh! Sakura, dear, you're awake! How are you feeling? Are you particularly hungry? I can sense you haven't eaten in a while. Let's get you washed up and then we'll have lunch."
I couldn't find any words to reply with so I just let her lead me to the colossal bathroom that was nearby. She motioned for me to get undressed as she filled the giant tub with hot water and soap, "Come, dear. Don't be shy."
It was normal for women to shower and bath together so it didn't seem too odd to me for her to be in the room while I bath. In fact, I almost expected it. I was a stranger in her home and it would be unreal to assume she'd leave me alone in a room so soon.
I gingerly removed my clothing, my dirty clothes falling sadly to the floor as if they didn't have any life left in them. She turned back to face me with a look of delight, "Oh my! You are quite beautiful, Sakura! You'll make someone very happy someday."
I wrapped my arms around my torso awkwardly with a red face. She didn't mention the bruises that dusted my skin here and there as a result of the past few days' events. I slowly dipped a foot into the bath as she held my hand for balance. The water was steaming hot and seemed to melt away the tenseness of my muscles.
Once I was fully seated in the tub, Mikoto helped me wash my skin and hair, chatting away as if we were closer than we were, "I'm very excited for you to join us for lunch, dear. I'm the only female in the whole palace so it will be nice to have another feminine presence. Do you like flowers? I have a large flower garden. You're welcome to join me in tending to it should you have any extra time. You'll be helping out my two boys while you're here, Sai and Sasuke. They're both nineteen. Ah!"
She touched her cheek dramatically, "I can't believe my babies are so old! Do you see any wrinkles yet?"
I simply shook my head, my whole being on autopilot as I tried to wrap my head around what was happening. She truly didn't have a single wrinkle. If she had children that old, she had to be at least close to forty years old, yet she didn't look a day over twenty-five.
She continued talking as she massaged shampoo into my hair, "My Sai is such a sweet boy. You'll get along with him just fine. Sasuke is a bit of a grouch, but don't let it bother you, dear. He's like that with almost everybody."
I wondered what her offspring must look like. Surely they were handsome, if her looks were anything to go by.
Soon I was as clean as I'd ever been and was helped into a beautiful black dress that looked like a smaller version of Mikoto's. It was very tight with the back cut low and a small train following my steps. I wanted to ask if I really had to wear something so uncomfortable even though I was a servant, but felt that it would be received as ungrateful so I chose to keep my lips sealed.
After spritzing me with an expensive smelling perfume and applying a small amount of makeup to my face, Mikoto finally led me out of the room, down a winding staircase and through a few halls until we finally arrived in an extravagant dining hall. A positively enormous table sat with more than twenty chairs that sat mostly empty, save for five seats at one end of the table.
We approached what I assumed was the remainder of the Uchiha's main family. At the head of the table was a burly man with a set frown on his mouth and a look of disgust on his face as he looked up over at me. He was obviously the man I'd heard talking with Mikoto, her husband, the ruler of Konoha.
To his left sat a younger man, looking to be somewhere around thirty, with hair longer than even Mikoto's, yet his was a thick, curly mess that somehow still looked regal. He gave me a small smile as a greeting. Across from him was an empty chair that could only be Mikoto's seat. Next to the empty seat was who I guessed was one of her sons, but his back was turned so I couldn't see his face. All I could see was messy black hair and broad shoulders. Across from him sat a pale young man with blank eyes, a blank smile, and straight black hair.
There was a lot of black in this house, be it hair, eyes, clothing, or decorations. It almost came across as gothic.
"Sasuke, sweetie, do you mind moving over a seat so our guest can sit next to me?"
The boy that I couldn't see turned around and it was as if the air left my body. He was devastatingly beautiful. His jawline was sharp, skin clear, eyes dark, and lips pulled down into a cold scowl. Where his brother who sat across from him lacked emotions on his features, he practically bled them and they were all negative. The only reason I didn't stare was because his black eyes locked hard onto mine and I had to look away in fear I'd faint again.
I could feel the heat of his loathing from where I stood, but he did the unexpected and obliged his mother's request without complaint. When he stood to move, he towered over both Mikoto and I. His height was spectacular. Something stirred in my body that I've never felt before and I forced my gaze down as I could feel my heartbeat quicken. Once he was reseated, Mikoto had me sit in the chair next to him before seating herself on my other side, next to her husband.
"Everyone, please introduce yourselves to our guest, Sakura Haruno. She will be with us for 90 days, serving the twins."
The head of the table spoke in a short, gruff voice, "I am Fugaku, Head of the Uchiha household and ruler of Konoha." I bowed my head at him respectfully, aware that I was under scrutiny at all times and by all angles.
The younger man beside him smiled easily, "My name is Madara Uchiha, younger brother to Fugaku. Pleased to meet you Miss Haruno." I felt more accepted by this Madara than any other male at the table.
The straight faced brother in front of me kept his same blank smile, "I am Sai." His introduction was simple and to the point, but it was better than him insulting me, I suppose. I returned his tense smile with an uneasy one.
Finally, I turned to my left to steal a glance at the large man that Mikoto had identified as Sasuke. He sat not even a foot away from me and now that I could compare our bodies, he was larger than me by a long shot. His muscles and height alone made him incredibly intimidating, but add to that the hateful look on his face and you've got yourself a dangerous combo.
He glared down at me for a moment before suddenly standing up and leaving the room altogether. I immediately apologized to Mikoto quietly in fear I'd done something to offend him, but the queen lay a hand softly on my shoulder, "Don't worry, dear. Sasuke just doesn't like change. He'll come around eventually."
I watched as his dark form disappeared up the stairwell and felt something in my stomach sink.
I sure hope so.
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aetheternity · 3 years
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Draken, Chifuyu, Mitsuya, the Kawata twins and Kazutora in:
When they see you with your ex.
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Disclaimer: E/N means Ex's name. The ex changes gender for each one to be more exclusive I'm sorry if it feels confusing. Kazutora's has mild angst but otherwise this is really sfw.
🌟 Draken
☆ He'd kinda crashed Mikey and Emma's day out. You'd told him you had something to do this weekend so what else was he supposed to do with his free time? The three of them had stopped to eat on the outdoor patio at a nice restaurant and while Emma and Mikey chatted away about something school related. Draken sat quietly sipping his tea.
☆ You'd been kinda weird when he'd asked why the two of you couldn't hang out today. You didn't even tell him what it was you were doing instead. And you always told him literally everything about your life. Sometimes unprompted.
• "Hey, isn't that Name?" Emma's voice suddenly caught his attention.
• "Who's the guy?" Mikey questioned in between bites of his food.
☆ Draken's head shot in the direction Emma had pointed in. Sure enough there you were, talking with a guy who was about the same height as Draken. Weirdly enough Draken felt like he'd seen this guy somewhere before.
• "Is that?.. E/N?"
☆ Draken squinted still staring at the two of you talking. You didn't exactly look happy but you and your ex were standing way too close. He felt a little pang in his heart.
• "Maybe she just.." Emma cut herself off. Your arm came up to wrap around your ex's neck. Pulling him in for a hug which he just as soon reciprocated.
• "Let's just go." Draken said and Emma seemed to immediately agree. As soon as Draken and Emma squeezed back into the open doors of the restaurant Mikey hightailed it in the opposite direction.
• "Dammit Mikey!"
• "Mikey!" Emma called but it was definitely too late for that.
☆ Mikey ran up behind you tapping your shoulder as Emma and Draken made their way down to the scene that was now forming.
• "Are you cheating on Ken chin?" Mikey questioned with zero hesitation. His face stern and his shoulders bared.
• "Mikey.." You said
• "I would've preferred to do this later." Draken grit. Though Mikey didn't even spare him a glance.
• "This is.. your new boyfriend right?" E/N asked
• "Name." Emma began "I know you wouldn't cheat on Draken.."
☆ You sighed putting some space between Mikey who looked two seconds away from punching someone and your ex whose confusion seemed to grow the longer this went on.
• "I'm not, I would never.." You sighed before continuing on. "He's dating my friend now and since we had some bad blood between us.. I figured I should try to get along with him since he's staying in my life. But I'm so sorry Ken Ken, I should've told you yesterday when you asked."
☆ Mikey stepped to the side as you held out your hand for Draken to take. He wasted no time pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead.
• "Don't ever do this again."
• "Go out with my ex without explaining myself? Or get caught going out with my ex without explaining myself?"
• "All of it." Mikey interjected, hands placed in his pocket but his normal smile was starting to reappear.
• "Go home you two. I'm going to spend the rest of the afternoon with these two."
• "Oh? Is it because you're worried something will happen?" You asked Draken laced your finger tips slipping your hand into his pocket.
• "I was never worried, I just wanted to spend time with you." He explained
☆ Definitely should've just invited him in the first place because within a couple hours your ex and Draken have become better friends than the two of you were supposed to be.
🌟 Chifuyu
☆ Him and Takemichi decided to spend the afternoon in Chifuyu's favorite manga shop since sitting at home had become tiresome.
☆ Takemichi had organized a small pile of books around his body like a nest while Chifuyu just searched the aisles aimlessly. He didn't have a book in mind before coming here so he figured he'd pick one out from his favorite section once they got there.
• "Hey Chifuyu?" Takemichi looked up as Chifuyu flipped through one book while he held another in his hand.
• "I can't buy both of these. Takemichi which one do you think is better?"
• "Isn't that Name?" Takemichi pointed over the stack of books on his left sure enough just outside the aisle was you with a girl chatting away.
• "Who's the girl Name's talking with?" Takemichi asked looking up at Chifuyu, though Chifuyu had already ducked his way behind the bookshelf peering out of the aisle at the current scenario.
• "What the hell are you doing?" He asked coming over.
• "That's Name's ex."
• Takemichi fell in line next to Chifuyu peering over his head, "I didn't know Name dated girls too.."
• "Yeah.. it's not a big deal.." Chifuyu said as the two of you giggled about something a couple feet away.
• "If it's not a big deal why are we hiding?"
• "Shh!" Chifuyu ducked back as you and your ex walked a little ways away. "Come on let's follow them."
• "Why don't we just go talk to them?" Takemichi followed reluctantly.
• "I don't want Name to think I came here because I was stalking-"
☆ Just as Chifuyu had made it to the next aisle he tripped over a snag in the carpet causing an oblivious Takemichi to bump into him. A loud oof from both of them alerting you and your ex of their presence.
• "Chi?" You called annndd now you were coming over. "Hey Chi, what are you doing here?"
• "This is my favorite manga place." Chifuyu answered with a grunt, stepping into the aisle.
• "I know.. I just thought you and Takemichi would be at your place."
• "What's going on?.. This is what you were busy with?" He gestured between the two of you.
• "Chi." You stepped forward and Chifuyu took one step back. "You know how me and, E/N are childhood best friends and how my grandmother is sick right now? My grandmother is basically a second mother to her so she invited me out to take my mind and her's off things, She suggested we come in here and I said ok but it wasn't right of me to not tell you, I'm sorry baby."
☆ Chifuyu looked between you and your ex his eyes slowly beginning to soften.
• "I'm not mad love. It was just weird you don't normally do underhanded things like this." He pulled you into his chest for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his waist.
• "You should come with us." E/N said pointing to Chifuyu and Takemichi. "Name won't stop talking about how wonderful you are as a boyfriend anyway."
☆ A bright pink flutters over both you and Chifuyu's cheeks as Takemichi snickers behind you both.
• "Next time you can bring Hina and we can make this into an outing." Chifuyu said, poking Takemichi in his side with his elbow before wrapping his arm around your midsection.
☆ You guys probably end up staying in the store for a couple more hours honestly because if there's anything you and Chifuyu have in common it's your love for manga.
🌟 Mitsuya
☆ He'd been running errands for his mother all morning so by the time he reached the supermarket he was completely exhausted. He pushed his shopping cart through the aisles with a long sigh, checking off items as he went.
☆ He rounded the last corner glad that his day was nearly over and already thinking about what he was going to prepare for dinner when the sound of your voice caught his attention.
☆ His first assumption was that he was so tired he was imagining it but the airy ring of your laugh soon validated his suspicions. You'd told him you were hanging out with friends today after all.
☆ He grabbed the last thing on his list deciding to go say hi. He wheeled the cart directly into the next aisle walking up as you and a person he didn't recognize were having a chat with an elderly woman.
• "You two are so cute together." The woman gestured with a small smile.
• "Oh.. no we're exes and friends." E/N explained
• "Aw I'm sorry things didn't work out for you two." The woman nodded
☆ You opened your mouth to respond but Mitsuya's warm gaze caught your attention first.
• "Suya, hey!" You greeted, walking over to greet your boyfriend with a small hug.
• "That's the actual boyfriend." Your ex explained to the woman.
• "This is the friend you told me about yesterday?" Mitsuya asked looking at your ex with a blank expression.
☆ The tension in the aisle could be sliced with a knife and the lady from before quickly walked away to another side of the store.
• "We are just friends now I promise. There's nothing going on between us and they're having a party tonight that's why we're here." You gestured to your ex who awkwardly waved back. "I was going to invite you later so that you could sneak out when Luna and Mana are asleep."
• Mitsuya nodded his expression softening as he reached up to cup your cheek, "I wish you had just explained that earlier, next time just tell me I won't be angry."
• "I will, I promise." You gave him a quick peck which he reciprocated. "I'm going to head with Suya but I'll see you at the party later?" You asked turning to your ex.
• "Yeah, I'll see you then." They replied as they left.
☆ And yeah sure Mitsuya said he was cool with it but you two ended up skipping the party and after dinner you both stayed in bed all night.. (Do with that what you will. 🙃)
🌟 Nahoya/Smiley
☆ You'd only been dating Nahoya for a month and everyday you two met up at the same place after school.
☆ Sometimes (like today) he'd grab Souya/Angry and head out to meet you. Today the three of you were just supposed to grab a quick bite to eat before heading to the Toman meeting.
☆ The second the two of them had stopped their bikes Souya pointed you out where you were holding a box and talking to some stranger.
• "Who's that guy?" Nahoya's grin tightened as he watched the way the guy yapped away while you just silently listened.
• "He looks like somebody." Souya pondered for a second before his gaze fell on his brother. "I recognize his face he was in some picture on Name's wall."
☆ Nahoya didn't wait another second to storm over to the situation Souya trotting along behind with his teeth grit.
• "What the hell is this?" Nahoya grunted though his smile never wavered. The indent of anger extremely noticeable on his forehead.
• "Hoya, this is E/N he-"
• "E/N as in your ex?" Souya chimed up before you could finish.
• "You invited your ex here when you knew I was coming? What kind of shit are you pulling here Name?"
☆ His smile began to dip at the edges but it was obvious he was trying to keep up his natural facade. His fists clenching at his side, book bag carefully slipped into Souya's arms behind him.
• "I just needed my stuff back, I promise." You tried to explain, shaking the box in your possession for Nahoya to see.
• "I didn't mean to intrude on your-"
• "You shut the fuck up!"
• "Hoya!"
• "So you thought you should invite him on our date? Are you trying to piss me off?"
• You stomped your foot exasperation slowly starting to take over in your face and tone. "Hoya, I didn't invite him! I told him I was here and he's gonna be on vacation for three weeks but I needed my camera back." You hold up the camera that you'd fished from the box, Desperation thick in your voice. "So he decided to drop my stuff off with me and you just happened to get here before he could leave." You rest your fingertips on the bridge of your nose. Glad for the silence that soon arises.
• "I should go." Your ex whispers doing a little scoot around Nahoya who still hadn't completely cooled off.
• "Hey, stop it." Nahoya grips your chin pulling your shaky form closer to himself. "You should've just asked me to get your shit for you."
• You muster a little giggle, sniffling and wiping your face with the back of your hand. "You would've kicked his ass then brought me my stuff."
• "He would've deserved it."
☆ You pull Nahoya closer though he's still a little hesitant to return your affection.
• "Let me make it up to you please? You and Souya." You turn to Souya who's still holding both his and Nahoya's backpacks.
• "You're paying for lunch today." Nahoya replies pulling you into his side. He lowers his voice leaning into your ear as Souya walks ahead to his bike. "And if I ever see that jackass again I'll break his jaw."
🌟 Kazutora
☆ Baji and him had spent the day riding their motorcycles until they decided to take a break not too far away from the shrine where Toman meetings were always held.
☆ They soon found themselves parking their bikes and skipping stones by the riverbed.
• "So, why is it that you're hanging out with me instead of your partner today?" Baji asked as his stone plopped into the water.
• "They said they had something going on." Kazutora replied
• "If I was with someone that gorgeous I'd be willing to go with them but whatever."
• "Maybe you should have someone before you start dishing out relationship advice."
☆ Baji grinned wide throwing a soft punch which Kazutora caught with a snicker pretending to right hook him. It soon lead into a chase with Baji dodging all of Kazutora's playful jabs walking backwards and making sound effects to go along with each swipe of his fists.
☆ Baji grabbed both of Kazutora's fists pushing him back until he nearly tumbled onto his ass. His laugh unbridled in its volume.
• "Come here Kazutora I'll show you how to throw a real punch."
• "What the fuck.." Kazutora's gaze followed two people walking along the path that went just overhead.
☆ Baji's head whipped around to track Kazutora's gaze stopping on the two people walking side by side almost out of sight at this point.
• "Is that-" Kazutora was nearly gone by the time Baji had processed the words. "Hey!" He called out running to catch up but Kazutora had already sprinted to the top of the bank, jogging along to catch up to the people they'd spotted.
• "Name!" His voice boomed closing the distance scarily quick.
☆ You'd stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face the chilling look in your boyfriend's eyes as he stood before you. Baji right behind and practically out of breath.
• "Who is that?" Kazutora pointed
• "Tora.. baby don't freak out.."
☆ His earring clinked against his face as he stared into your eyes.
• "Are you leaving me now? Is that it?"
• "Tora!" You huff, putting your hands out.
• "Kazutora.." Baji called out already sensing the weight of the situation.
• "She's my ex but listen-"
• "So you are cheating on me.." Kazutora's jaw locks and when you reach out for his sleeves with pleas of his name he just slaps your arms away.
☆ When he leaves he runs for his bike. His leg anchored over the side already gripping the handle bars tightly when Baji's loud scream of his name rips through the air.
☆ He's got his bike out of park but just as he starts to drive away you dash out from nowhere and yank his handle bar.
• "Dammit Tora listen to me!!" You beg, he can clearly see the beginnings of tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you hold onto the hand still clutching his handlebars.
• "What could you possibly say? That it didn't mean anything? That you love me?!"
• "Yes! I do love you! You mean everything to me! I needed to be with E/N today because her mom went missing a couple days ago! The woman that took me in and loved me all my life is out there somewhere and no one knows anything about it so dammit Kazutora if you love me even half as much as I love you, don't leave me right now!"
☆ You latched onto his jacket letting your loud sobs fill the now quiet air.
• "You told me.. You love me.." His whispered tone barely reaches your ears as you continue to choke on your own tears.
• "I.. love you.. Tora.." You hiccuped
☆ His arms wrapped gently around your waist, face deep in the crook of your neck as you slowly began to relax.
• "I'm sorry." You felt him tremble as he held you closer than he ever had before. "I love you.." He reciprocated. "I'm here.."
🌟 Souya/Angry
☆ Souya tended to listen more than you realized. Like when you go on and on about a band you absolutely adore to the point where he stays up until almost 12 am to snag tickets for the two of you to go see them on the weekend. And this was that weekend.
☆ He'd been nearly bursting with excitement over it and now he could finally surprise you with the news after holding it in for a solid week.
☆ He parked his bike across the street from your house, reaching into his jacket pocket for the umpteenth time to check that both tickets were there. After a few more minutes of preparing, blowing into his hand to check his breath, smoothing his sweaty hands over his jacket. He rung your doorbell. The heel of his toe tapping against the floor as he waited for you to answer.
☆ When the door finally opened a person much taller than Souya answered.
• "Yup." The person pursed their lips one hand on the tool belt wrapped around their waist. For a second Souya pondered if he'd somehow rung the wrong doorbell until he looked at the number in plain view embellished on your door front.
• "Who are you?" It definitely came off more aggressive thanks to Angry's naturally violent resting face.
☆ Before the person could answer you came bounding down the stairs, pulling the door open wider.
• "Why the hell would you answer my door?" You spit at the person standing beside you as you pull your boyfriend inside, shutting the door behind him.
• "I think you mean thank you."
• "Fuck off." You tell the person who was already walking back to the kitchen.
☆ The naturally angry imprint on Souya's face seems to deepen as he makes eye contact with you.
• "I wish you had called." You sighed, tugging Souya into the living room by his jacket sleeves.
• "Who the hell is that?"
• "You remember how I said my ex is in the remodeling business.."
• "That's your ex?"
• "Yes but listen! If I work with him I can get a discount, I just want that wall taken out to open up the space a bit more." You gesture to the kitchen where your ex is currently examining the wall. "I would've told you sooner but between my friend coaxing me into doing this remodel and that drunk night with you and Nahoya it was hard to find time."
☆ Souya dipped his hands into his pockets, staring blankly into the distance. His brow furrowed deeper than normal and his foot tapped against the hardwood.
• "If you're uncomfortable with this I'll get someone else.."
• "Get someone else."
• "Wait before you answer." You scoot closer to your still ticked boyfriend and he makes eye contact with you again. "This kind of remodel normally costs way more than the bargain I'm getting with them."
☆ Souya blinked blankly at you.
• "Sou plllleeeeaaasssee, you can be here whenever they are." You gesture to the kitchen.
• "No I can't I have a job."
• "Fine.. I'll call you the entire time." He sighed with a roll of his eyes. And you rubbed both his arms with a long groan of his name. "How about this, I bring you and them to dinner. Once you see how disinterested I am you might be more for it."
• "Not worried about you, I'm worried about them." His forehead rubbed against yours and you giggled.
• "I promise I only love you."
• "Would you love me more if I got tickets to your favorite band for today?"
• "I'm never leaving you." You proclaim wrapping your arms tightly around Souya's midsection. "That's a proposal by the way we're engaged now. I don't make the rules."
• "E/N I'm engaged now!" You yell towards the kitchen.
• "I heard, congrats!" They yelled back
☆ Souya just scoffed but his cheeks bloomed into the deepest shade of red as he walked upstairs with you to your bedroom to help you pick out an outfit for the concert.
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ventisehe · 3 years
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crying on their wedding day / genshin impact / part one
this was a request from my old account and i am only transferring it here. there is a part two to this but i got busy with school and organizing my new account, as well as thinking over deleting my old account.
since bennett is fifteen or sixteen, his part will be a little different from the others. with aether, he is hundred years old so his part if just like the rest. this is unedited and i wrote it at night when i was supposed to be farming so please bear with me hehe.
requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro
includes: diluc, zhongli, childe/tartaglia, aether, bennett
warning: unedited, not proofread
part two
THOSE WHO WOULD SHED A SINGLE TEAR
     DILUC
       After losing his father and his horrible fall out with Kaeya, Diluc has become a firm believer that a man can truly live as an island, to some extent. As much as possible, he kept to himself and worked alone. Having people share his burdens with him did not appeal to him. In fact, it miffed him, as it made him feel indebted to them.
          He limited his interaction with everyone, especially those who are part of the Knights of Favonius, favoring solitude above else. But of course, this did not entail bad social ethics to others.
    He treated his maids and employees with civility and respect, the same can be said with his patrons whenever he worked behind the counter (it would certainly be bad for his business if he behaved aloof to them) and those he was once close friends with. He always behaved appropriately to them, although he must admit he can be quite insulting to the Knight, he always stood behind an invisible barrier, careful not to cross it and grow attached to anyone.
        He has long given up with amorous relationships. After all, what good would he be as a lover if he could not provide his woman the love and care she deserved? Surely, he cannot let a maiden suffer with his inadequacy as a potential husband. He is aware of how hectic his schedule is (he hardly has enough time for himself so spending time with his lover would be proven difficult) and how poorly he expresses his feelings, thoughts, and emotions. In a relationship, in marriage, communication is the key for it to be successful, and already then, he has failed. He may be a cold man at first glance, but he will not put a woman in s distressing dilemma, not intentionally anyway.
                    Being the richest man in Mondstadt and being considered attractive by many, Diluc was not foreign to having women throw themselves at him, attempting to seduce him. If maintaining a relationship with a woman with his current tribulations was hard, finding a woman who truly love and understand him was even harder. He has no means of deciphering who were pure with their intentions and those who sought him for his money and influence.
     And he accepted his fate without easily, without question. This was the way it was supposed to be in the first place. Diluc Ragnvindr - a lone man, who lived in too big mansion, sleeping on a bed too big for him. It was all he knew. The bright days of his childhood long forgotten.
    But then you came to his life so suddenly.
                          "Master Diluc," Began Jean, a polite smile over her lips. "This is ( Your Name )".
              All it took was for you to give him shy smile to have his walls broken down, and for his heart to yearn for what he has resolutely denied himself of for years. And it twisted him, and not in a way he welcomed.
          Diluc tried so damn hard to push you away. He avoided your presence, and made it his point to show you he wanted nothing to do with you, and made no attempt to cover it and ignored how his heart broke every time your smile fell. He resolutely refused to yield to your sincere advances.
                                     He treated you the same way be treated everyone, to show you how you were no different from everyone. You were just another dot in his life waiting to be erased and thrown in the back of his mind.
                                                       But the harder he pushed, the harder you pulled. In his brightest days and in his darkest days, you have never strayed far and welcomed him with open arms. You always went out of your way for him.
          It was hard not to fall in love with you? Why did you have to make things so difficult?
                        It wasn't too long until he was falling asleep in his bed with you in his embrace, his heart feeling light, warm and content. He hasn't feel like this in a long time - safe, and at home. Diluc found home from someone he tried to push away.
                                      The horror of what could have happened if he had been successful weighed down on him, and it took quite an assurance from you to make him remember that he has failed, and you were his, as he was yours.
                          Back then, he thought your persistence was bothersome. But as he stood at the altar right now, watching you enter with your white wedding dress, he was grateful you never gave up on him.
Diluc cannot describe how beautiful you looked as you graced everyone in the place with your presence.
Your eyes locked with him, and his heart soared in his chest. And when you smiled at him, an excited gleam in your eyes - he cannot help but smile back.
Time cannot be any slower, and the aisle cannot be any longer. And have you always walked this slow? Or were you just teasing him?
Diluc's breath hitched - Perhaps you knew how much he wanted to get this over with so he can have you all to himself in the comfort of his room.
And when he saw you smiling mischievously at him, he knew that he was right.
His words failed to describe how beautiful you looked. His words failed the joy he was feeling. May Barbatos have mercy on him
But the tear that escaped the corner of his eye explained everything.
"Oh, what is this?" His best man whispered beside him, a teasing tone lacing his voice. "Master Diluc is crying. Why, I never thought I'd see the day."
Diluc shot him a glare. "Do not make me regret making you my best man, Kaeya."
Kaeya laughed. "Ah, ah, ah," He chimed. "Your wife won't be pleased if we fight at your wedding day."
A warm and pleasant feeling coursed through him. His wife.
"She's not my wife yet." Said Diluc.
Kaeya looked at you as you walked down the aisle. "And in just a few minutes, I'll have two Ragnvindr to annoy." He patted his brother on the back, smiling a genuine smile for the first time. "Congratulations, Diluc."
     ZHONGLI
       Zhongli, or Rex Lapis for that time, has watched over Teyvat for thousands of years and has witnessed firsthand how kings and tyrants rose and fell, how kingdoms were born, how camaraderie are conducted, how romance makes a man foolish and blinded, how society flourished in the hands of mortals as Archons guarded them from their resting place, and throughout the tales of humans, his eyes has laid upon many beauties.
                   But you? Oh, even the most esteemed bard of all realms could never bring the satisfactory glory to your name and pulchritude.
            How dearly Zhongli missed the unspeakable power, money and authority he had back before he revoked his own position as a deity, keeping a close eye over Liyue and his people. But if ever presented with the opportunity to return to his rightful place as part of the Seven, he shall graciously decline, casting his gaze away and simply returning to your side.
                               After all, what benefit would he gain from it when he already has his heart is content in the possession of a mere mortal, a mortal he loved and adored. He would dream of ever choosing his old power over you, and that can be affirmed when he asked for your hand as the two of you took an evening stroll outside Liyue.
                 He has fallen for you and he cannot rise again. A gentle and kind woman with an understanding and patience which knows no bounds. If not for his revelation that he has accomplished all his duties and has come to decide to resign from his reign, your existence may be another reason for him to take the form or a mortal and ask for your hand.
                      He can still recall that faithful day when he first met you at the harbor. He stood by a high balcony, overlooking Liyue Harbor with arms crossed. The sun beat down against Liyue grounds and his skin, but it also casted an ethereal glow on you as you exited one of the ships that stopoed at the docks. And may he boldly say the sun was outshined that day, and his heart has been taken.
                                         Zhongli can only imagine how many men has chased after you, but failed to woo you.
                   Zhongli understood the concept of love. After all, Liyue and every living being that sought shelter in its walls were close to his heart, but never in his life has he felt the way he felt for you. It was the sort of phenomena he observed between lovers for centuries - unconditional love and care, a sanctuary in the arms of their beloved, an individual to trust and come home to whether the day has been kind or unkind.
           What he thought were trivial matters and the means of mortals for survival he has tasted its sweet flavor, and it was by your hand did he receive it. And he was thankful that you have found him worthy of being with you, and soon, being one with him in the contract of marriage.
And thus came the faithful day, the very day he longed to come ever since you have accepted him as your husband to be, and the day you have dreamt of every night you laid with him.
Zhongli counted the months, weeks, days, and if he had the ability to, minutes until the day of your wedding. He has a calendar in his room and everyday, he enthusiastically crossed out every passing day, watching as his wedding with you grow closer.
And when it finally arrived, Zhongli followed a meticulous routine to prepare himself, using expensive oils and perfume to which the Fatui money has provided splendidly. After all, he wanted to look the best he can for you. You deserved only the best of things, and he shall not hold back on anything to please you.
Though Zhongli, most of the time, was a calm man even under the eye of tribulations, when he stood at the altar in front of his close friends and colleagues, he can't help but feel anxious.
Of course he has no doubt in your love for him. He holds on your every word of love and affection as true, and his love for you was as hard as stone. Rather, it was he who doubted himself and his capabilities.
He wondered if he would be able to take care of you, love you the way you should be, bring a smile to your lips, and a laugh out of your mouth. If he had been Rex Lapis still, he would have easily uphold his duties as your husband. After all, what can an Archon not do?
It would be Childe, his best man, who would console him. He would tell Zhongli he is more than capable to care for you. He has a stable job (not to mention his connection with the Fatui), he was eager to please you and give you about everything if he can, he has a kind heart, he was a man who can manage his time wisely and never choose his profession over you, and above all, he loved you. Not many men can afford the luxury of being this perfect, but Zhongli was no man, not originally at least.
He will be unconvinced of what Childe has said. This unease in him was hard to diminish. Not being enough for you will tear him apart. The thought of it just gnawed at him. Will he make you happy? Will you regret marrying him when you realized life married to him wasn't as you expected?
It was only when the doors opened, and his wide and anticipative eyes darted over to the other end of the place did every little doubt in his mind is erased.
You stood by the entrance wearing the white dress you have fought hard not to show him until this day.
That bright smile on your face, those eyes that shimmered at the sight of him, the faint red on your cheeks - Zhongli did not even notice how love stricken he looked, and nor did he notice a tear cascade from corner of eye.
It was only when Childe stifled a laugh and pointed it out did he feel the dampness at the side of his face.
He forgot how to breathe when you finally stood before him. Even a veil cannot conceal your beauty.
With twinkling eyes, you smiled at him - like he was the only person in the room.
"Are you crying?" You ask playfully.
Zhongli will let out a chuckle, and as he take your hands in his, he said, "In such a beautiful day like this with the loveliest lady in Teyvat before me, how can I not?"
Indeed it was a beautiful day, made better when your lips met his.
He can't stop a few more tears from slipping.
THOSE WHO WOULD BAWL THEIR EYES OUT
     CHILDE/TARTAGLIA
                 Childe understood his duties as a Harbinger even if his playful and flirtatious facade may say otherwise. He kissed hands of women and paid them golden compliments until their mind went hazy with his feigned affection, but he was still a Fatui at the end of the day - a ruthless and greedy scoundrel who had too much Mora in his hands.
              And it was because of his line of work that he decided never to commit himself. If he was to find himself infatuated with a woman and she reciprocated his feelings and desired to pursue a relationship with him, it would inevitably drag her to the dangers entailed to his position.
                                       The last thing he wanted was someone to dear to him to be harmed, not to mention his lover could become his weakness, she could be taken by his enemies and be used against him, thus, making things more complicated and harder for him to fulfill his duties to the Tsaritsa.
             To him, nothing is more important than seeing through his mission with the finest quality of work he can give.
                   So damn you for coming into his life and distracting him. Damn you for bringing another bright to his life. Damn you for taking care of his family when he was gone. Just - damn you for making him fall for you.
      He hated this - the feeling of being weak, of being vulnerable, of laying his guard down. One touch from you and he's no better than the people he despised for being so frail and powerless.
                                              How ever do you possess this prowess to make him so dependent on you, to relish in your voice when you sing to him as the two of you laid together in his bed, how he let his defenses crumble when you whisper his name, the tug of his heart when you he sees you getting along so well with his family.
                          Childe wanted you. He wanted you more than anything and anyone in Teyvat. He was going crazy thinking about you.
             He refused to acknowledge his feelings at first, thinking perhaps he can use you to comfort him and his family in these troubling times. That's all you were supposed to be, a tool for him to make his family feel better whenever he goes off to accomplish his work as a Harbinger.
                              But he couldn't stomach the thought of using you like that. He didn't want you to treat like a toy. And it did not help that one day, when he was returning from a mission, you come rushing to him and blurting out your feelings and your worry for his safety.
               You loved him. Did he hear you right? You love a Fatui, and a Harbinger, no less. Surely, you aren't that stupid to fall for him.
     And yet he smiled a sincere smile at your confession, and he too followed your steps. That night, he was at his weakest. Just relishing in your arms and ridding all the responsibilities over his shoulders. He can forget all his faults for a moment, with you. A peace of mind and heart was found in you.
     Childe watched as you played with his fingers, and then he spoke. “Aren’t you afraid?”
       You hummed. “Afraid? Of what?”
                   Childe shook his head and held your hand which toyed with his digits. You looked up at him, puzzled.
              “Of me.” Said Childe, pulling your hand and holding it close to his chest. He closed his eyes, almost terrified of what your answer can be. “Of what I can bring to your life. I’m a Harbinger, [ Your Name ]. Your life is at stake just being with me. Do you know what you’re in for for loving me?”
                        You gazed at him, and he can’t see anything in your eyes. He let out a small gasp when you leaned in and kissed his cheek.
            “I’m not afraid of you or anything this world can throw at me.” You confessed. “You’re going to protect me, Tartaglia. I know you will. I trust you. I love you.”
                            And fucking hell, did he protect you.
                                          He tried to hide you from his fellow Harbingers, and especially to his enemies. Not because they will use you to get the upper hand against him, a leverage. No, he wanted to hide you, as long as he can anyway (because it won't be long until his secret is out, walls do have ears), to protect you. No one will lay a hand or even get a single strand of your hair. May the Archons have mercy on anyone who dares put you in the middle of the dangers of his job, because he surely won't.
Because of this, you and Childe decided to get married in secret, with no one else but Zhongli, the traveler, and their floating companion to be your witnesses in becoming one. The two of you knew well of the consequences your decision shall birth, but it's the one you're making. Nothing in this can stop Childe from making you his wife, and treating you as such.
Childe could not wait for the ceremony to begin. Even with such a small crowd - very small indeed - he did not hold back to make this day special for you. The finest of everything is what you deserved, and if he could give more, he would. But for now, all he can give you is himself, and he dearly wished he was enough.
The whole time, as he waited for you to emerge from the doors of the small cathedral the two of you chose to be wed in, he kept imagining how his life would be like with you.
Waking up beside you was the thing he looked forward to the most. When the sunrays peeked from closed curtains and cascaded down your slumbering form, a gentle and even breaths leaving your lips, a soft expression of rest - the thought of it filled his heart with warmth, a kind of warmth only you can evoke from him.
Waking up at your side on his bed always reminded him thst you were indeed there, and his. Soon, he'll be waking up beside you with a soft smile on his lips, a reminder that you were there, but now as his wife.
Childe never really considered him emotional. It was part of his discipline as a Harbinger never to let his emotions get the better of him. But when you stepped into the cathedral wearing the wedding dress you personally chose and had hidden from him for so long, a veil over your face but the soft smile still just as bright as the morning sun, it all came crashing down to him.
Childe wanted a lot of things in life. But what he wanted the most was to spend the rest of his life with you - providing for you, protecting you, comforting you, falling deeper in love with your every single day. All this he will do until his dying breath, and he knew you'd do the same.
His dream was walking towards him, never taking her eye off him as she approached the altar.
He can hear Paimon clapping and the Traveler reprimanding her for being a little too loud. He can hear Zhongli saying something to him but he couldn't understand a word he said. But he was too lost in his realization that you're going to marry him.
You chose him, a man with too many faults and imperfections.
Just as you arrived at the small steps leading towards the altar, the tears Childe has been trying to hold back streamed down his face, small hiccups escaping his lips.
You stared at him, worried. "Tartaglia, are you alright?"
Childe would try to formulate an answer but through his tears and hiccups, he couldn't make a single comprehensible word. His posture was regal and proper, as though he was trying to fool everyone that he wasn't crying.
How can you ask if he was alright? How can his heart handle how beautiful you looked right now?
"Excuse me, ( Your Name )," Zhongli interjected as he stepped beside Childe. "It seems that your soon to be husband needs a moment to collect himself. Please, excuse us."
Zhongli led Childe back to his room, and the Harbinger did not fight back. He was still crying even when the doors has closed behind him. Zhongli stood by the door, watching the Fatui sit on his bed, trying to stop himself from bawling.
Childe can feel guilt crawling up to him as he realized what he had done. What was supposed to the most perfect day, your most perfect day, was ruined because of him.
He was scared to think what you thought of him now. Were you resenting him for what happened? Did you still wish to marry him?
If only he had controlled his emotions much better. He shouldn't have let his joy break through him in tears.
"She was crying too, you know," Spoke Zhongli.
Childe raised his head to look at the former Archon. "Huh?"
"Your bride, she - " He smiled at him. " - she was crying too. She's happy to be marrying you."
Childe can feel his heart hammering against his chest in delight at what he said.
"So don't keep her waiting."
Childe bawled his eyes out once more when the words - "I do," - left your lips.
     AETHER
                 When his sister was taken from him, Aether was a lost and wandering soul in Teyvat with the sole purpose of finding her.
              Throughout his journey, he met different people from different regions. He learned their values and cultures, he grew to love the world he used to be a stranger to, he was able to utilize different sorts of Visions, and yet, despite all of this, Aether was lonely. Paimon - bless her pure soul - tried her best to keep his spirits and bring a smile to his face (he assumed she too felt the hollowness inside of him) but it was all futile as he often find himself seeking solitude and gazing out in an open field wondering where his twin could be and how she was fairing on her own.
                He will let the cool breeze comfort him, but all it left was a searing kiss of reality that his search might have been all for naught. That very concept his mind was conjured haunted him in his every waking days. Is he still journeying through Teyvat and reaching out to all Archons with a solid purpose? Was he no wasting his time looking high and low for someone who could not be looking at the sky as he?
                     "And what if she is?"
                                     Your words is what got his attention. Aether met you in the evening when the stars and the moon was absent from the skies. He sat on a fallen log overlooking the city of Mondstadt, alone and cold. Paimon has insisted in him accompanying him, but he had snuck away before she can chase after him. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, and with the scarce time he has for himself, he has to make the most of every night that comes.
                 Lumine was in his mind, and worry was gnashing its teeth at him. He was deep in his own world, sinking to the hands of his tragic thoughts, that he did not hear footsteps trekking the hillock he was at. Nor did he realize he was speaking his own worries in the air, eyes distant and staring blankly at nothing.
       "What if she's not even looking for me?" That's what he remembered saying that time.
                                       Then you made your presence known with an answer that refuted his initial thought. He whirled his head to the side, wide eyes with surprise. You stood next to him with a faint smile, hands behind your back and the moon slowly peeking from the shroud of clouds. A light in the darkness, the moon was. And so you were you to him.
                "Sorry," You apologized, sheepishly giving him a smile as you rubbed the back of your neck. "I didn't mean to interrupt. You were speaking out loud and-and I just had a feeling I needed to say something." You took in a deep breath, and Aether found the pink dusting your cheeks adorable. "I . . . I'll just go now - "
              Aether didn't regret asking you to stay.
                                   Before you came to his life, Aether did not know how much he was dwelling in the own hell he made. His inner tribulations, his worries, his insecurities - he only took notice the torture he was putting on himself when you keep saving him from his own mind.
                   At first, all he thought of you was a precious friend - someone he leaned on and entrusted with everything, whether it be secrets or help with his quests. He told you about his past, his twin, how exactly he was different from the people of Teyvat, how he and sister fought an unknown god, how she slipped from his fingers when he reached out for her, how much he wanted her back. He was terrified of what you may think of him when he told you these things, but to his surprise, all you did was wrap him in your arms and comforted him.
                                      Along with Paimon, you were his dearest friend.
             But as time passed, the longer you accompany him and Paimon in his travels, he noticed something strange. The way his heart skipped a beat when you smile at him, how he can't keep his eyes off you when you laugh at one of his tales, how his heart hammered ceaselessly when you press a chaste kiss on his cheek, the relief that seeps in his system when he sees you unscathed from a battle, how irritated he becomes when someone makes an offense against you, the joy that seizes him when he listens to you talking about something you loved, and how much he adored it when you scold him for being a little too reckless in fighting.
                           Aether, despite being older than he seems, did not know what to make of what he was feeling. It was strange, a good kind of strange - the kind of feeling that makes him feel like he was floating in the sky. All he thought of it was an overwhelming adoration for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.
                  It wasn't until Paimon pointed it out did he realize what he was feeling for you.
                                           Upon learning his feelings for you, Aether couldn't sleep for many nights. He was plagued with the desires of his heart and his insecurities. It was like falling back to the same hellish pattern before you came along.
              He was in this world for one reason only - to find his twin. And when he does - and he fucking will - he will depart from here with her and continue their travels. Leaving you was the last thing he wanted. He couldn't bear the thought of it. It felt like leaving a piece of him behind in Teyvat, a hole in the shape of your name.
                            The solution he had for this is directly confessing to you. Of course, the blond was a nervous wreck when he approached you and asked for a moment of your time. Paimon knew of his plan and wandered away for the time being, wanting to give the two of your privacy.
              If you did not share the same feelings as he, he can already imagine the pain he will have to deal with, but it'll be much easier to leave. At least then he knows you won't be as hurt as he thought once he takes his leave. He never entertained the idea of you reciprocating his feelings. It would be foolish to - surely you can't find anything appealing with someone like him ; to which you rendered him speechless and a bumbling mess when you pressed your lips against his when he was in the middle of his confession.
                                 Aether shouldn't be this happy with you. He loved you too much to see you hurt when he tells you that he must leave. He was not welcome in this world, he was an outsider, a being not under the authority or influence of any Archons.
     But still, he spent months loving you, caring for you, doing anything to come back to you no matter what is thrown at him. He loved having you in his arms when you slept, he loved watching the stars with you at night, he loved you even with the inevitable arguments you two have - Aether was utterly and hopeless in love with you.
                     And thus, he decided to tell you what will happen after he finds his sister.
                      He knew he would be heart broken in seeing you cry, but it hurt more to see you smile at to him so genuinely and embraced him, saying, "You used to doubt you'll ever find your sister. It broke my heart everyday seeing you so hopeless, and I - " You composed yourself, shaking your head as your tried to gather your thoughts. " - now look at you," You cupped his cheek, the corners of your eyes wrinkling as your smile broadened. "I always knew the day will come when you have to leave me. When you told me you weren't from this world, I knew then I'll have to let go of you someday. But until that day comes - Aether - "
               What a shock it came to him when you got down on one knee and presented to him a glittering ring - there was unconditional love and hope in your eyes. It was like looking back at his reflection. "Marry me, Aether, let me make you happy for the rest of the days we still have remaining until you leave."
                                   Aether can never say no to you.
To his surprise, Master Diluc has already agreed to host your wedding at Dawn Winery. Aether was puzzled as to why he seemed unsurprised by the news of his engagement with you, and the Claymore wielding male answered, "( Your Name ) came to me for help when she planned to propose to you."
Aether knew Diluc, as much as possible, wanted to be alone. A lone wolf, he was. But with gratitude for what he has done, he asked him to be his best man. Diluc was startled by this requests but obliged. The red head might not show it but he was immensely flattered by Aether asking him to be his best now (and now time to subtly show it off to Kaeya).
At the day of the wedding, contrary to what he thought he would feel, Aether woke up with his an ache in his chest. He found himself looking out the window of his room, torn between his happiness and sorrow.
In a few hours, Aether will be able to adorn a ring on your finger, symbolizing your promises with one another. He shall be granted the sole blessing of calling your his wife. It was something he was looking forward to - seeing you in your wedding dress, watching as you walk down the aisle -
But Aether's mind kept drifting back to his sister - She would have wanted to be here. He thought.
Aether felt like he was committing a crime when he decided to take a walk just hours before his wedding. But he needed to clear his mind. Lumine never left his mind. He always thought that they would always be there for one another, or at least in big moments like this.
And yet she was still nowhere to be seen.
Is she still alive? Have I been wasting time? Is she still in danger? Is she lost in Teyvat as well?
"Didn't expect to run into you here."
His body tensed when he heard your voice, and he twirled around only to have his breath taken away.
You stood before him in the white dress he had longed to see ever since you proposed to him. He thought he would see a frown on your face, dismayed for his impromptu walk, but you wore a soft smile - a soft and understanding smile.
Aether did know what to say to you. He just stared at you, overwhelmed.
He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't say anything. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed.
You approached him and kissed his cheek. He hummed in delight, eyes closing. "I hope you're not having second thoughts on marrying me." You told him.
Aether was quick to respond. He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. He looked into your eyes with affirming hues, "There is nothing I'm more sure of than marrying you."
You beamed at him. Seeing your face brighten up is always a beautiful sight for Aether, and it was enough for him to feel enlightened in the midst of his internal crisis.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Of course you can already tell something is bothering him. Aether shook his head. He has already ruined a small part of what is supposed to be a perfect day, he can't risk another mistake.
"I'm not going to push you to tell me anything." You stated.
Aether smiled. "Thank you." He replied. He gazed at you for a little while, taking you in. "Why are you out here anyway? And in your wedding dress too."
Your eyes widened and you looked down to assess his evaluation. "Oh Archons," You mewled. "I forgot I was wearing this." You let out a groan. "Great, now my surprise is ruined. I won't be able to see you cry when you see me walk down the aisle."
He laughed a little. "But still happy as ever to see you." He said. "So why are you outside?"
"Just . . . " You began, and Aether can detect a hint of nervousness in your voice. " . . . picking some flowers."
"I thought we already ordered flowers." Aether thought, frowning. "Did someone forget to deliver the flowers? I can call someone if - "
"No, I just wanted to pick some flowers, randomly. Like how you wanted to take a walk, randomly."
He looked at you with hesitant eyes. He didn't believe you. There was something hidden behind your motive to be out here. But like how you didn't press him with what was the problem, he did the same for you.
"Okay," He breathed out. "What flowers did you pick then?"
Aether's breath hitched when you pulled out a bundle of Windwheel Asters and several more flowers that was all too familiar with him.
He stared at the white flowers that combined with your Windwheel Asters, the very flowers that he remembered adorned his sister's hair.
"Aether? Aether are you okay?"
He stared at you with glistening eyes, his heart blossoming with adoration and gratitude. Without even meaning to, you managed to make everything alright.
"Yeah," He smiled at you. "I'm okay."
Aether thought when he stood at the altar, he would have Diluc trying to soothe his nerves as his insecurities slowly sink in his mind. But it didn't happen. Diluc merely stood by him with a relaxed expression, glancing at him every now and then.
"You don't look nervous at all." Diluc remarked.
Aether chuckled. "This is the only decision I fully know I won't regret."
Aether felt like it was his first time seeing you in your wedding dress. His heart was filled with the brim with utmost joy, but what caught his attention was the bouquet of flowers in your hands.
You told him before that you will have roses as your bouquet, but to his surprise, he can see the Windwheel Asters and the white flowers that reminded him of his sister.
His emotions was all over the place. He had no idea how he could look so calm. Somehow he managed to hold himself together until you finally stood before him.
When you stared at him behind the veil, he couldn't take it anymore. You were too perfect. How could he be so blessed with you?
Tears sprung to his eyes when you reached out to take his hands in yours. He retracted one of them to rub his arm across his eyes, wiping away the wetness that streamed to his face.
Why am I crying like a child in my wedding? Stop it!
He couldn't.
He only cried harder when you leaned forward, removed his arm from his eyes, made him look into your vibrant hues, to give a small peck on his lips - "You're okay, Aether."
     BENNETT
                 Bennett understood his bad luck more than anyone. He had lived with and through it his entire life he graced the surface of the earth. It was almost pitiful to see the boy smiling ever so brightly as misfortune after misfortune comes hurtling his way, but to him? It was an everyday and normal occurrence, nothing he hasn't seen or experienced before. His spirits has never let their roaring flame vanish, however, and if it had not been for his bad luck, everyone would have been drawn to his warm, welcoming, affable, and cheerful soul.
                                 But just because he was used to the constant array of debacle thrown his way, doesn't mean there were never days where he won't be upset over everything it brought to his life, and others as well, and wonder how long it will take until his unluckiness will lead him back to the very situation he was rescued from when he was a mere baby.
          He forgot how long it was when he had experienced something good, miraculously so. The only time he can recall being so was when he encountered the Honorary Knight, convened with them as a temporary adventure team, and found a treasure chest containing items he has only dreamed of in his sleep deep within a domain. However, that was many moons ago, and nothing has ever compared to it ever since. The moment he departed from the Honorary Knight, his bad luck came instantly to bite him.
                 It was far too long ago. Sometimes, Bennett wondered if that would be the only good thing that can happen to him in his lifetime, and thank the Archons he was wrong because the very worst day that came upon him is a day he will never exchange for another - the day he met you. When it was raining, thunder in the distance, lightning striking trees and soil, his bruised and bleeding form hardly covered under a small and flimsy tent, you graced him with your presence, and an umbrella which you used to cover both of you.
                                    He had never stopped admiring you ever since. His eyes always followed you, wide and shining. He remembered the warmth in his chest and the redness tinting his cheeks when you brought him to your abode and treated his wounds with care gentler than the Deaconess. When he told you what happened to him, he anticipated to he shoved out of the house immediately and have your front door slammed on his face, but you did not. When he warned you about his curse, telling you how you will be affected when you spend a little too much time with him, the look of fright did not cross your visage and you even insisted that he not leave your house until you were sure he was capable of moving without pain, even if you had instantly been affected by his unluckiness (you pricked your finger quite badly when you were stitching a deep wound of his. He always felt guilty for that and has not stopped offering his apologies whenever it pricks the corner of his mind).
                   Other than the team of adventurers who had saved him from peril when he was a baby, it was difficult to find someone who will stay with him, through bad times and more of it. One cannot simply imagine and comprehend the confusion and happiness that seized him when he found out you were spending more and more time with him, not out pity but because you enjoy his company (which was weird, but he'll take it).
                              You possessed no Vision, but Bennett never saw you in an inferior light. In fact, it impressed him how you can hold yourself without the aid of any power. Enemies took a little longer to eradicate but ultimately, you were always successful. He held you in high regard, and very much like a certain blond traveler, the poor boy thought it was merely friendship and respect he felt towards you. After all, wouldn't a friend accompany him in his adventures no matter what disappointing or gratifying the outcome is? Wouldn't a friend prepare meals for him before he goes off on a solo expedition? Wouldn't a friend stay up late up waiting for him to return after? Wouldn't a friend welcome him by the entrance of Mondstadt upon his arrival? Wouldn't a friend give him butterflies in his stomach? Wouldn't a friend make his heart pound in a way
                  It had taken the Traveler and his floating companion for Bennett to learn about how exactly he was feeling for you.
           He liked you, and not in the way he liked the traveler or Razor - he liked liked you.
                               When he realized about his feelings, Bennett nearly short circuit every time you go near him. His face flush a rich color of vermillion, his confident posture stripped down to a coy and uncertain stance, his eyes darted and never meeting yours for too long, a sheepish smile painted over his brims - Bennett had never felt this way before. It was foreign to him - liking someone - and it was worse for him because you were his one of his few friends (you, Razor, the Traveler and their floating friend), and having you withdraw from him if you ever learned his feelings frightened him more than any Ruin Guard could.
    He didn't bother entertaining the idea of you returning his feelings. With his bad luck, it was bound to end in a rejection, and he didn't believe he had the heart to accept the hurt that would come.
                 Bennett tried to keep his feeling a secret, he really, genuinely, did. He locked his feelings for you in a box and stowed away somewhere behind his mind. But it didn't take you too long to catch on. Bennett's theatrics wasn't as impenetrable as he originally thought because there was no other reason for you to corner him in a street in Mondstadt after he tried to avoid crossing paths with you, and admit your feelings to him.
                                  "( Your Name )," Stuttered Bennett, eyes darting to the side to avoid your eyes as he pressed his back against the wall behind him. You gazed at him, a tint of red over your cheek.
                 Archon, how are you so adorable?
                   "Uh, hi," He greeted meekly, as he rubbed the back of his head. "I-I was just about to leave for an adventure - "
                               "Bennett," You spoke, and he froze at the tone of your voice.
                   He looked at you properly, gulping. Shy eyes, shy smile, shy, shy, shy - and yet somehow, Bennett thought the worse - that you found out about his feelings and was about to turn him down.
          He almost got down on his knees and press his hands together in a praying position, head bowed, and beg to keep your friendship. It didn't matter if you did not share his feelings. You were more important than his stupid feelings. He can deal with the hurt of rejection that will soon to come, but losing you completely? Can he even come to terms with that?
                                But before he can do such humiliating display, you leaned in and pressed a kiss on his cheek,
                  It was almost too good to be true, and with someone like him, Bennett had to take a moment to comprehend what has happened. His feelings were reciprocated, opposite of what should have been considering his dilemma. How can this be? He was sure your friendship would be put to an end when you learn about what he felt for you. How did you even know that he liked you? Has he been too obvious? Surely not (he was). Perhaps you were merely toying with him, discovering his feelings and choosing to use it as a way to alleviate your boredom -
                                           Horror struck him when he processed the message behind his doubt. How could he think so little of you? Someone as sweet and kind as you would be repulsed by the intention of the actions he thought you were presenting to him. Prideful as this may sound, Bennett believed he knew you enough to know you were sincere in everything you do.
            But even if both your feelings are revealed to be mutual, the two of you agreed to wait until a certain age before forming a romantic relationship. The two of you are young and there are a lot more the world can offer outside Mondstadt. There are countless of opportunities to grow and be mature, to be able to have a set of qualities to take of one another.
                            But that didn't mean the two of you easily managed to hold back showcasing your favor for the other. Bennett will always find himself exchanging secret glances and smile with you whenever a third party joins in on your adventure. He would stick by your side in situations he think could potentially lead you to a major injury. He will attempt (and fail, unfortunately) to whip you up with something delicious when he has free time. And you did the same to him.
                  With you, there was never a time where his heart wasn't beating against his chest. He can't stop himself from bounding recklessly through his adventures whenever you accompany him, although he will still keep a close eye on you just in case something bad happens to you (but it's always him who ends up injured).
                                              But what he liked the most are the kisses the two of you share. Short, chaste, and shy - whether it be behind closed doors, when others are looking away, or when the two of you set of on an adventure.
            Bennett would lay in his bed with a smile on his face, his thundering heart preventing him from sleeping. He'll often find himself burying his face against his pillow, grinning from ear to ear.
                         This smile was different. This wasn't smile that he usually wore, the kind of smile that persevered through hardship after another. No, it was the sort of smile that was too carefree and too full of utmost joy, no worries or doubts in his heart. Everyday he always woke up to the excitement of adventure, but now, the excitement of it and seeing you once again always had him brimming with the want for the night to be over with so he can chase after his dreams with you. Chasing his dreams with you, what a life.
      His world is full of a bad luck, but he thanked the Archons for giving him someone he can depend on in the troubling waters he always he seem to drown in.
Bennett, embarrassing it may sound, often laid on his bed imagining about marrying you.
He can see himself making a fool out of himself when he gets down on one knee and propose to you. It'll be set in the most beautiful place he discovered in one of his adventure, somewhere quiet. Like maybe on top of a mountain overseeing a vast field.
Because of his bad luck, he'll try to prepare for every outcome. To be very sure everything will be saved, he made sure he created a plan B for his plan A, a plan C for his plan B, and so on, and so forth.
He can imagine himself fumbling over his words, blushing a bright red was made prominent because of his white hair, holding a bunch of hand picked flowers a little too tightly, sweat pouring from his face, his suit and hair a little ruffled -
If you say yes (spoiler alert, you will), he will most probably go haywire with shock and happiness, causing him to drop the ring down the mountain, and the two of you will spend quite some time looking for it. But in the end, you two will find it somewhere deep underground or deep underwater (to which you will ask help to retrieve) (Bennett offered to go down to get the ring but you can’t take any chances) and then you can start planning the wedding.
If Bennett had backup plans for his proposal, then expect there'll be much more backups with your wedding. He needed this day to be perfect for you, and his bad luck won't stop him from providing it for you. Even if he had to fight through horde after horde of Hilichurls (please stop him when he does, he definitely will do that for you), making you happy is his top priority.
Bennett will be extremely anxious the day before the wedding. He'll be pacing around his room, and has half a mind of running over to your place and spending the night there to reassure himself that you still want to marry him, and that you’re absolutely sure you want to spend the rest of your life with him. It will be Razor - who the Traveler spent hours teaching the basic information of the role of Best Man to - who will calm his nerves. He’ll stop Bennett from reaching your house and carry him back to his own, and giving him a lecture (he did his best) like the best man he was.
Was he having second thoughts on marrying you? No way! He will just be nervous about how the wedding will go. With his bad luck, something horrible is bound to happen.
At the day of the wedding, Bennett can imagine himself constantly seeking reassurance from his best man.
"What if I mess up?" Questions Bennett to Razor, anxious hands fiddling with his tie.
"Messing up is . . . normal." Razor will reassure him, but Bennett will shake his head.
“But it's me. When I mess up, it's always . . . catastrophic . . . ”
Bennett hoped that at least for his wedding way, everything will go smoothly. A perfect day, for you and for him. He won't embarrass you or himself. He won't forget the rings, he won't have his clothes tucked inside out, he will not spill any food or drinks on himself or on his guests, there will be no random Hilichurl attacks - none of that.
He really hoped for the Archons to spare him from his bad luck. 
He will be able to stand by the altar with confidence and a smile, waiting for you to walk down the aisle.
As Bennett is consumed with his thoughts, his eyes drew to the small table at the side of his bed and caught sight of the picture of the two of you perched on the surface. It was a picture you took with a kamera after one of his adventures. The two of you smiling happily as he showcased the loot of vegetables and wheat he gathered in numerous luxurious chests. It was good day, that picture was. He found more resources than usual. Of course, he learned from the Traveler that most of the chest they found contained treasures but hey, vegetables are better than nothing, right?
Bennett stared at your smiling face and can feel the heat creep on his cheeks as he imagined you in a pretty, white wedding dress, smiling at him so shyly and cute - oh, Archons, help him. May them have mercy on him. Of course, you always looked pretty to him - so, so pretty - but in your wedding day? Archons, he doesn't know if he can take that. It'll be too much for his big heart.
He can only imagine how your wedding will play out, but there is one thing he was sure of and that is that he will burst into tears once he laid his eyes upon you - and not the soft cry most men do in their wedding, oh, not at all like that. His heart is too big with too much love for you, and too soft to control his emotions properly.
Bennett will cry (bawl, actually), his tears of joy coming in streams, and it was loud enough for strangers to think he was grieving over a deceased loved one. He was hiccupping and sobbing, will probably be holding on to his vest tightly as if his entire lifeline depended on the pressure of how he crumpled the fabric. He hoped that in that time, Razor or the Traveler will lend him a hand and calm him down before he can ruin his own wedding.
Bennett, as he happily imagined that fateful day to come in the future (spoilers again, it will) did not feel a tear slip from the corner of his eye as he drifted off to a pleasant slumber with a beaming smile.
The boy absolutely adores you.
1K notes · View notes
thelarriefics · 2 years
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FAMOUS/FAMOUS FIC REC: Below are fics where Harry and Louis are both famous, but not necessarily singers.
📖 Paint Me In A Million Dreams by @greenfeelings (112k)
In short, Harry's in love with someone and doesn't care about dating anyone else, Louis never felt home in L.A., Liam writes love songs for someone he shouldn't write love songs to, and Niall makes everything better with good food.
📖 For Reasons Wretched and Divine by @indiaalphawhiskey (94k)
An AU in two parts. Two boys, two stories, and hopefully, two chances at love.
📖 Remember Me Fondly by @bluejeanlouis (73k)
Grunge legends Fearless Doe topped the rock charts in the ‘90s, but they spent the decade kicking Smudge off their heels. From lawsuits to jaw-dropping scandals and a surprising joint world tour, the two bands share a complicated history.
Twenty-five years later, frontmen Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are finally ready to sit down and tell the world their two sides of the same story.
Truth may vary.
📖 sweet, where you lay by @infinitelymint (27k)
Louis Tomlinson is a twenty-eight year old succesful actor living in New York. Harry Styles is a twenty year old up and coming model and coincidentally also the one who turns Louis’ world completely upside down.
or, Louis is Zachary Quinto and Harry is Miles McMillan. Falling in love was always in the cards for them.
📖 Take Me Everywhere by @mercurial-madhouse and @zanniscaramouche (25k)
Louis’ life moves a mile a minute as a growing pop-sensation. He’s used to the joyful screaming of fans as they catch sight of him on the boardwalk and the blinding lights of cameras snapping his every move, it’s part of the whole ‘famous’ thing he literally signed up for. What he’s not used to is his little sister’s Ken doll (m’names Harry, the lad insists) coming to life. Now Louis’ stuck trying to find a way to keep Harry out of sight and get him back into his box before people recognize his bright eyes and wide smile as the picture perfect boyfriend being sold in every toy aisle.
The worst part? Harry was literally made to be the perfect boyfriend. And he’s pretty.
Louis’ a little more than fucked.
📖 Dancing With Masks by @softfonds (18k)
With awards season coming up and new films on the way for both of them, Harry and Louis' managers decide it's time for them to date for publicity. They don't mind, given that they are best friends and have known each other for ages. Besides, years of sexual tension built into a fake relationship for press, what could possibly go wrong?
📖 Wanna be alright with my baby tonight by @rainbowsandlovehl (18k)
Louis gives Harry seven gifts for his birthday and Harry thinks Louis is going to propose.
📖 Tan Lines and Some Memories by @harrieberrie (11k)
It’s summer in California and blockbuster movie star Louis Tomlinson is looking forward to a break and spending his days lazing away at his beach house.
Harry Styles is the indie movie darling he’d been avoiding ever since Louis saw his movie at Cannes and harbored an unreasonable grudge against him.
A unicorn t-shirt finally brings them together in person.
Summer romance ensues.
📖 room for your love underneath this tree by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (11k)
Because Harry Styles is -- he’s next level kind of famous. Louis has two million subscribers on his YouTube, but Harry has eighteen times as many followers on his Twitter alone. He’s had three number one hits in the last year, and his last album had charted at the top spot for a record breaking 27 weeks. He’s a singer, actor and philanthropist, and there is no way in hell that Louis can get him to come meet Daisy for Christmas.
📖 Lately You've Been On My Mind by @lululawrence (9k)
five times Louis makes reaction videos to Harry's performances and songs, and the one time they actually meet.
📖 the stars are coming home by @harrystinyshorts (5k)
For years Harry has been waiting for their schedules to click just right. Finding a day where he’ll not only be available but also is the only visitor on the premises has been near impossible.
After three years together and nearly a full year of marriage, Harry has finally been permitted to sit in for one of the team’s practices. They get more than they bargained for.
📖 Want you more than a melody by @teamlouis2021 (5k)
the one where a few days off in Jamaica is all Louis and Harry need to be happy
📖 Somebody to Move Me by @becomeawendybird (4k)
Harry Styles has decided after her latest breakup to take some time to herself. She never expects to meet Louis Tomlinson.
📖 Missed You Like Crazy by @beanno28 (2k)
Harry has been away for work and Louis misses him. This is what happens when Louis has an idea and surprises Harry with a special welcome home gift.
📖 One Heart, One Soul by @princelyharry (1k)
When their Silver Wedding Anniversary came up, Harry and Louis were interviewed by Vogue. Telling them their journey of being in love and through the ups and downs of their marriage.
233 notes · View notes
bbyheedeungie · 3 years
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Fluttering Machinery | Robot! Sunghoon AU
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Genre: Fluff, mild angst
Pairings: Robot! Sunghoon x Reader
Warnings: Character death, little suggestive content
Synopsis: Sunghoon was a humanoid built by your father, with the sole purpose of taking care of you once he passes away. But it seems like taking care of you came with discovering emotions that wasn't necessary for cooking, cleaning, and keeping you safe. What is this warm fuzzy feeling that resonates deep inside Sunghoon's mechanism?
It's been months. 6 dreadful months since your father has passed away. The doctors have warned you that he didn't have much time left, but that didn't make the goodbyes hurt any less.
You were 4 years old when your mom left you and your father for another guy. A more successful guy. Your father was bright, with an insatiable hunger for discovery and invention. But his field of work didn't always bring food to the table. And so on most days you had to, well, compromise.
But you loved your father so much, and still do. Although you didn't grow up to be a scientist like him, you knew the basics on automation and robotics. You were 11 years old when you first saw it, the humanoid that he worked on for years came to life before your own very eyes.
He had no skin nor face that made him look human yet. Just a chunk of metal with a head, arms and legs that moved mechanically. Nevertheless, you will never forget the joy and pride in your fathers' face as he watched his creation. The humanoid was a work in progress and you knew one day he's going to change the world. Unbeknownst to you, he was going to change your world.
And now here you are, years into the present as you stood infront of the humanoid who had his eyes shut. Yep, he's a he now. He is Humanoid SH-1282. Your father made him for the purpose of serving the community, to help people. But when he discovered his illness, he started making alterations to his design. He made SH-1282 to serve as the perfect companion, but only to you.
He filled the humanoid's hard drive with everything that he'll need to help you and take care of you. He input cooking, cleaning, and even martial arts. You sighed, remembering your father's last words.
"I'm gonna leave him in your care now, err leave you in his care or whatever. Take good care of each other okay? I love you both so much."
You were such a crybaby, holding on to your father's arm as the nurses were ushering you to wait outside because the doctors are about to perform surgery.
"You'll be okay." Your father mouthed as he smiled knowingly in content.
You reach for the humanoid's neck to find the power button, finally deciding to activate him after holding it off for months.
You held your breath as his eyes open, immediately scanning his surroundings. His eyes land on you, a smile forms on his lips.
"Hi, I'm SH-1282. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." He said naturally, offering his hand. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was a normal boy.
You let out a shaky breath as you accept his hand. He frowns, it seems like he is studying your facial expression and posture.
"You seem like you are in distress. Are you alright?" He asks in concern.
"Yeah, I am." You reply weakly.
"Will a hug improve your mood?" He asks. He was programmed to know about the benefits of physical intimacy, but he was also programmed to know consent and so he will not do anything unless you want to.
You contemplated, biting your lip.
"No, thank you." He simply nods, stepping out of his charging port.
"Will you show me around the house?" He asks and you nod.
"Damn this feels so awkward." You think to yourself.
"So here's the living room." You say as SH-1282 takes a good look around the area, his eyes falling to the dirty coffee table with tons of papers stacked messily. The couch looked greasy, with breadcrumbs stuck to the sides of the couch cushions. He scrunches his nose, involuntarily adding a new emotion to his database: disgust.
And as you led him to the kitchen, this emotion intensifies as he sees the containers of Chinese takeouts and cup ramen littered around the counter. He walks to the fridge and finds it empty except for a carton of milk that you put into your cereal for breakfast.
This awakens another emotion for the humanoid, frustration. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he contemplates on what to do with the mess, aka you.
"This won't do. You have been living unhealthily which may reduce your chances of living a long life."
You scoff, "Excuse me?" He gives you a dead stare, an eyebrow raised.
"No, excuse me while I clean up all this. I'll leave you to your own devices, thank you for showing me around today." He says sassily as he goes to find where you hide your cleaning utensils. You stood there dumbfounded.
"Unbelievable." But you let him be anyway. He wasn't wrong, you've been a total mess this past few months but that was all because of the grief. You basically had no family now.
And so for the rest of the day, you lock yourself in your room and do homework. About 5pm, you hear a soft knock at your door.
"Hello, it's me. Can you spare me a minute? I have something to ask of you." You inwardly groan, not really wanting to face the humanoid.
"Can you accompany me to get groceries? I swear this will only happen one time. It is only because I am not yet accustomed to my location. But after I mentally note the directions, you won't have to come with me next time." He didn't really want to bother you, but he knew that going out by himself and getting lost will be much more bothersome for you.
"Sure thing, just let me change into— oh no, you have no other clothes. It's kinda chilly outside today." You mentally facepalm yourself. Why didn't I go shopping for men clothes first before activating him?
"That is fine, I am immune to any temperature." He says as-a-matter-of-fact. You roll your eyes.
"I know that but people will probably get suspicious to see a man walking around in a shirt and jeans when everybody else has coats on. We need you to fit in as much as possible."
You search for your father's old coat that you refused to throw away even months after he's passed.
"Sorry dad, but he kinda needs this right now." And so you dress the humanoid in your oversized university sweatshirt (which surprisingly fits him perfectly) and your father's old coat.
"How do I look? Will I fit in now?" He asks as he scans his appearance in the mirror.
"You look—" absolutely breathtaking. You had every urge to slap yourself. Your father really didn't play around when he made the humanoid's face. He could pass up as an idol. And the cute little mole on his nose was a good addition to his features that made him even more realistic.
"Great. People won't suspect a thing."
The two of you head out. Contrary to your expectations that he would marvel at everything he sees outside, he just casually looks around. You ride the bus together, and the humanoid processes everything that you do, noting how everything works.
What caught you by surprise though, is how he immediately stands up in instinct to let an old lady sit down in his place. He sure was programmed with manners and chivalry. You smiled at the thought.
You made your way inside the grocery store, only intended to grab a basket but the humanoid insisted on a push cart.
"We have so much to buy, I've taken a mental note of everything we'll need." You simply roll your eyes and let him push the cart around as you wandered behind him. You look around as he reads the nutritional facts of every single thing he sees.
"This is definitely going to take a while." You muttered.
"Y/N? Is that you?" A voice squealed. You hissed and attempted to turn away, pretending you didn't see her. The humanoid saw how you reacted and swiftly rushed to your side in a protective stance. The stranger eyes the humanoid, her eyes sparkling at the sight of such a gorgeous man.
"Why hello there. Y/N you didn't tell me you've been busy with your boyfriend, we haven't hung out in a while." Both of your eyes widened at the misunderstanding.
"Oh, no he's not— we aren't—" You tried to explain but she just laughed out loud.
"Look how flustered you are. You know what, it's okay. But we have a lot of catching up to do!" She said, squishing your cheeks in a playful manner.
"So what's your name, handsome stranger?" She asks, turning to the confused humanoid.
"I'm S—"
"Sunghoon! His name is Sunghoon." You blurted out. Sunghoon was the name of your childhood crush when you were like 7 but that'll have to do. Unfortunately, it seems that the humanoid got even more confused.
"I am Y/N's—"
"Neighbor. He lives next door to my apartment. I was just showing him around because he just recently moved into the city." You say quickly. She can't know that you're living with a guy. Even if said guy wasn't human.
"Awww how sweet of you to go shopping with your neighbor." She said, winking at you. She's definitely not convinced.
"I'm Yeonmi, Y/N's friend." She introduced, offering her hand to Sunghoon. He took her hand reluctantly.
"You mean my super obnoxious friend." You roll your eyes.
"Shut up, you love me." She teased. Admittedly, you've been avoiding her for months now. Ever since your father passed, it was as if you didn't want to deal with anyone anymore, with the fear of being left behind again. So you shut everyone out. You know it was a very selfish move and must've made everyone worry, but you have yet to figure out how to fix things back to how it is.
You said your goodbyes not without a long, tight hug from Yeonmi and Sunghoon noticed from his scanners how your vitals greatly improved from it. This made him feel another new emotion: relief. He was very thankful for your friend who made you feel better.
You continue venturing down the aisle of food, and you find the humanoid smiling to himself. He notices your attention on him and he shakes his head, as if shrugging his thoughts off.
"What?" You asked.
"You gave me a name. Although I'm unsure if it is necessary, thank you." He says genuinely as he smiles at you, your heart skipping a beat.
"You're welcome, Sunghoon." You smiled back.
He picked up lots of fruits and vegetables, with you whining the whole time. Your whines unlocked another emotion of his; annoyance.
"No wonder her father thought she is in need of taking care of, she acts like a child." He concludes, running his fingers through his hair as he lets you get an ice cream of your choice. Oddly, seeing a bright smile on your face as you show him what flavor you got seems to put him at ease.
The two of you got home at dawn, with quickly stacking up the groceries into the cabinets and fridge, with you slumping down on the now squeaky clean couch.
It had been quite a long day and you found yourself dozing off. You woke up from the light tap on your shoulder, eyes fixating on Sunghoon with your apron wrapped around his torso.
"I could get used to this." You thought, admiring how adorable the humanoid looked but quickly pushing the thoughts away.
"Sorry to wake you, it's time for dinner." He announces and you lazily nodded, not before yawning and stretching your arms.
"Uhh, what is this?" You asked, eyeing your plate.
"It's your dinner." He says nonchalantly, expecting you to start eating. Your face shows utter disgust at the plate of vegetables.
"Please don't make me eat that." You begged. Sunghoon rolls his eyes; a trait he adapted from spending just a day with you.
"Don't be dramatic, vegetables are good for you." He states, taking the plate from you and attempting to feed you.
"Come on, say ah." He says playfully. After realizing how much you acted like a child, he researched on how to take care of children and downloaded it into his database. You scrunch your nose, leaning away from the food and shooting him a glare.
"Sunghoon, I'm not a kid." You deadpanned.
"Oh, but you won't get your ice cream if you don't eat this." He says, pouting at you teasingly. He's really good at this. With a sigh, you open wide and allow him to feed you.
"Yep, definitely a kid." He thinks to himself as he smiles in satisfaction, another emotion unlocked.
That night, you decided to move his charging port (with his help) from the lab into the spare room of the apartment.
"You know, I'm completely okay with staying at the lab." He reasoned but you quickly hush him.
"Nope. That is no way to treat a person. You deserve your own room, okay? A room that you can fill with your own stuff and decorate with your own preferences. End of discussion." You sassed as you fix his charging port into place. Sunghoon blinked at you, unable to express how grateful he is of how kind you are to him.
"She wants to treat me like a real human being." He thinks, his mechanical heart overwhelmed with gratitude.
Days went on with a routine, with him cleaning all day and you attending online classes. There were occasional bumps in the road, with you getting annoyed with how much of a neat freak he is and him getting irritated with how lazy you are at taking care of yourself. You've also taught him how to watch tv, deciding not to let him use the internet yet because he might gain too much unnecessary information online.
And so on a saturday night, you sat together on the couch as you watched figure skating competitions. Sunghoon was at complete awe the whole time, studying how the skaters moved through the ice.
"I want to skate too." He states absentmindedly, attention still on the television. You smiled, thinking how it was the first time he actually said he wanted something.
"Then let's do it, let's go skating tomorrow." You say, his head immediately shot to you.
"What, really?" Sunghoon asks in disbelief, his eyes widening.
"Yes, really. Although I'm warning you, I don't know how to skate." You laughed, with him chuckling as well.
"Then we'll learn together." He promises.
What a total lie that is. He didn't need to learn, as you watched him move swiftly against the ice, the wind in his hair as he circled around, his focused eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. He looked ethereal. You could have sworn there were tears there as you cheered him on like a proud momma. Ah, they grew up so fast.
People at the park also stopped to watch Sunghoon, whispering about how talented the young man is. His eyes caught yours, and you weren't sure if you were seeing things but you thought you saw him send you a wink and smile.
"The TV been teaching him things." You muttered, blushing but not from the cold. Sunghoon skates towards you, pulling you with him. You're eyes widened in fear.
"N-no Sunghoon I can't—" but he was already leading you through the ice, eyes never leaving yours.
"You can." He whispers, taking you by the waist as he spun you around. You giddily laughed as you threw your arms out, savouring the chilly air. You didn't even notice the people watching and cooing at you as some joined in as well.
That night, Sunghoon felt something he never felt before, and you in a long time. You felt happy.
"Say aaaah~" Sunghoon said as he fed you chicken soup. You caught a cold from skating yesterday and now you're wrapped in a super cozy blanket with Sunghoon worrying about you.
"You know I can feed myself right?" You said, swallowing the food.
"I know, but I just feel responsible because I was the one who wanted to skate. You got sick because of me, and that kinda defeats my purpose because I'm supposed to be keeping you healthy." He rambled. You roll your eyes at him.
"Colds are normal, okay? Besides, I haven't had that much fun in a while. Thank you for that, Sunghoon." You say, reaching up to tussle his hair playfully. He froze, cogs in his mind unable to process as something inside him stirred, but in a pleasant way.
--
"So you dance while rubbing your body on a stranger?" Sunghoon questions, but he's not sure if he wants to know the answer. Tonight, you wore a simple black dress that teasingly showed a little bit of cleavage and a decent length of fabric that hugged tightly around your upper thighs but had a daringly high slit. Sunghoon approves and disapproves at the same time.
"Yeah, it's kinda like that. But don't worry, I won't be doing that. I'll just stay by the bar the whole time." You reassured as you struggled to put on your strappy heels. Sunghoon kneels down infront of you and helps you clasp the straps around your ankles, handling it very delicately. Your heart thumps as he looks up at you.
"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" He asks for the fifth time as he follows you around the house like a puppy. You sigh, actually considering it. Although it was supposed to be a girl's night according to Yeonmi, you thought maybe having Sunghoon tag along wouldn't do harm.
But it did. It did harm to you, alright. And you wanted to harm those girls who kept on grinding their asses onto Sunghoon as slow, sexy music played. You were fuming, regretting dressing Sunghoon in such fashion that screamed big D energy. Why am I being so possessive? But then again, Sunghoon does look uncomfortable. I should go save him. Yeah, I'll do that.
"Hold my drink." You tell Yeonmi as you made your way to Sunghoon.
"You go girl! Get your man!" Yeonmi cheered drunkly.
Your train of thoughts were blurred by the alcohol as you struggled to walk straight. You had only one clear thought in mind: Sunghoon. I need to get to Sunghoon.
Sunghoon stood uncomfortably, eyeing the girls who rubbed their bossoms and derriere all over him. Is this supposed to be fun? He thinks innocently. He sees you walking towards him, swaying your hips side by side as you strode towards him like a predator.
Girls hovering around him going unnoticed as you were the only one he could see.
Stunning, beautiful. He thought.
"Hey handsome, care to dance?" You asked, pulling him to you before he could even answer. The girls spat at you, telling you to 'get in line' but you just shot them a smug look.
"Sorry ladies." Sunghoon apologized, but his smile told otherwise as he let you pull him away from them.
"You don't know how badly I wanted to get away from—" He froze in his spot as you wrap your arms around his neck, inching closer than ever before. You felt bold, but maybe that was just the alcohol in your system. And as you started moving your body against Sunghoon, you knew it wasn't just you who felt the heat. His large palms go down south, resting on your swaying hips as both of you moved to the sultry rhythm.
His mechanism was going nuts, threatening to malfunction as his sensors detected your very close proximity to him. Whatever you were playing, it was dangerous. But Sunghoon couldn't help but to want more, to desire more.
"Y/N." He whispers, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. And damn did he find you so sexy right there, under the strobe lights. No girl in the club could ever compare.
"Home?" You suggested.
"Home." He agrees.
As you got in the cab, you immediately find yourself half straddling Sunghoon's lap as you attempt to kiss him. Luckily, Sunghoon can think clearer now and concludes that a drunk Y/N is a very horny Y/N. And though the thought that it was only the alcohol that made you want him made him feel sad, he knew it was wrong to demand such things from you.
And so with your futile attempts to get into his pants, he gently lays your head on his shoulder and hugs you to keep you still. But even that couldn't stop you from squirming to get away from his hold, trying to get some action. He chuckles as he held your hand tightly in his to prevent it from landing into his crotch.
"Now now, you have to stay put. I won't be taking advantage of your state." He scolds gently. And by the time the cab had stopped in front of the building of your apartment, you were fast asleep in Sunghoon's arms.
Times like these were when Sunghoon is glad he was made of aluminum. He scooped you up in his arms like a pillow as he walked up to your apartment. You snuggled up into his chest, looking so innocent as you soaked up his warmth. Sunghoon cooed about how adorable you are, talking to you in your sleep.
He placed you delicately on your bed, contemplating whether to change your clothes or not. He decided not to, noting how your privacy is important to you. You're too drunk and asleep to give him permission right now anyway. He took off your heels and wiped your makeup off very gently, and tucked you in properly.
Long minutes pass as he studies your face, stroking your hair softly as the corners of his mouth lift up unconsciously. He really loves taking care of you. He loves you.
This realization hits him like a truck of overwhelming emotions, but it all makes sense to him now.
"I love you, Y/N." He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before retiring to his own room.
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cloudteawrites · 3 years
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chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>
The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place. 
Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon. 
Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful. 
For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer. 
Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.
“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored. 
“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum. 
“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”
Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”
Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.” 
“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart. 
He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”
“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle. 
There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”
“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”
You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”
He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.” 
You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy.  “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”
He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”
You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back. 
“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”
You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”
“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”
“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…” 
“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”
A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.” 
“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt. 
There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.” 
The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.
Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation. 
You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.
The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think. 
You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.
In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night. 
A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk. 
The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted. 
Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”
The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”
Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen. 
“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.
Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert. 
Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”
“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.” 
“Taehyung-”
“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.” 
Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.
You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you. 
Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him. 
They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first. 
“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”
“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”
“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.” 
Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache. 
“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.” 
Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too. 
You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.”  You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”
“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking. 
One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”
The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's. 
The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”
Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist. 
You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin. 
“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?” 
“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.
No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.
You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.
You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”
The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.
You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble. 
He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”
You’re not even sure you know.
He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles. 
You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?
Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”
“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.
You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”
“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting. 
“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.
“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”
At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another. 
When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.” 
Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room. 
“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.
“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.
The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.
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