#this has been sitting in my drafts for almost a month good god so glad it's finally out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fallingforunrealisticromance · 3 years

Text

Just so I could call you mine part 2 - Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

It's finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, I've only really been able to write at night - my day's have been kinda busy at the moment. But it's finished. It's quite long so sorry about that. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as you enjoyed part 1:)

Also (following a theme here) this is loosely based off of the song 'Enough for you' by Oliva Rodrigo

* = time skip

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3503

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

It had been a month since the argument. Well, I say argument, but I think downfall of the one thing that made me want to get up in the morning would be more accurate. After I’d broken down on Emily’s shoulder that night, she took me back to her place. The whole time I was there, part of me kept wishing for the phone to ring and for it to be him. It didn’t feel real. For the first few days I clung to the shred of hope that he might pull me aside at work to apologise, tell me he was wrong and wanted me back. But seeing as this is my life, that opportunity never came. We hadn’t spoken since that night. Even on cases, he would find ways to avoid talking to me. I can’t say I blame him, he’s a shitty man. And when shitty men do shitty things, they tend to run from it.

I walked into the bullpen laughing with Garcia. All the girls had really looked after me and I couldn’t be more grateful.

“Hey there pretty ladies” Morgan said, sauntering over to us.

“Why hello there handsome. Here to make us yours?” Garcia replied playfully.

“Only if you’ll have me.” Morgan bantered. Garcia just laughed before heading to her cave.

“So how are you gorgeous?” He said throwing his arm round my shoulder.

“I’m doing good. In desperate need for coffee. Don’t get me wrong I love Garcia but after only 3 hours of sleep, her bubbliness this early on has taken it out of me” I explained as we headed to the coffee machine. Derek dropped his arm and stood next to me, allowing me to make my drink.

“Only three hours huh? You having trouble sleeping?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, I just choose to run on as little energy as possible.” I retorted sarcastically, prompting an eye roll from him.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah I do, it’s just” I sighed looking down at my coffee.

“Hey.” Derek nudged my arm slightly. “What’s on your mind?” I chewed at the inside of my cheek nervously before answering.

“I guess I’m still adjusting to sleeping by myself.” I admitted. Derek nodded, wearing a sympathetic look on his face. “It’s so stupid, I should be over this by now. I mean I am over him but it’s just certain things like…ugh I don’t know. It’s just stressful.” I ranted.

“It’s normal baby. You went from, what was it nine months?”

“Eleven.” I corrected.

“Right so you went from 11 months of having someone next to you all the time, to suddenly nothing. It’s bound to take some getting used to.” He reasoned. I knew he was right. But something about the way Hotch had essentially picked up where he left off with Haley made me feel so stupid for still being hung up over him.

“Come on, let’s go see if boy genius can tell us something fun.” Derek joked as we walked back to our desks.

***********************************************************************

The day was almost over, and we’d had no cases, which allowed us to sort through old case files and tidy things up. As boring as that may sound, it was actually a nice break from the horrors we see on a daily basis.

“Right.” Emily said, stretching back in her chair. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“And leave me here with the men?” I replied, pretend fear laced in my voice.

“I’m so sorry honey. You can do it I believe in you” Emily joked. The boys just swapped an annoyed look. “Sergio awaits me, so I’ll see you all tomorrow.” She said collecting her things.

“Bye Em.” I called after her. But just as she was about to leave JJ rushed into the bullpen.

“Emily stops where you are.” Emily groaned and turned around.

“Jayje I swear to god if you tell us we have a case, as much as I love you, I will be hurling my bag at your head.” Emily said. JJ just laughed at her.

“No, it’s nothing bad guys, but Rossi has invited us to dinner.” She said smiling. The way she looked at us made it seem like she was looking for some type of reaction.

“Okay? Something special about today?” Derek asked.

“Yeah that’s nice of him and all JJ but I’m really tired. Sitting in a crowed Chinese restaurant really wasn’t really what I planned to do tonight” Emily replied. JJ sighed.

“Fine. I mean if none of you want to come back to Rossi’s mansion for a bite to eat then I get that. Have a nice night with your cat Em.” JJ turned to walk away but at the sound of us all scrambling out of our seats, she turned back and laughed.

“Screw Sergio I wanna explore this guy’s house.” Emily said walking over to JJ.

“God you lot are so nosy” She joked as we all walked down to the parking lot.

“What do you expect? The guys a mystery so if there’s an opportunity to snoop of course we’d take it.” I chuckled.

“I just wanna see if he has a first drafts of his books lying around. I can almost imagine how much he left out.” Reid piped up.

“Of course, that’s what you wanna see pretty boy” Derek said patting Reid on the shoulder. We all hoped into our separate cars to go home and change before re convening at Rossi’s.

******************************************************************

The night was going great. It was so nice to be able to just take a night off – eat, drink, chat – without the stress of a case looming over our heads. Not to mention Rossi’s house was incredibly impressive. I mean if I could somehow make this man my sugar daddy and inherit this place, I’d be on it in an instant. Aaron was here, which didn’t surprise me. But what did is how relaxed he was. I’d seen it all the time when we were together but somehow seeing it tonight felt strange. Almost as if he’d dismissed the whole situation.

“Okay I wasn’t that bad guys.” Emily protested, snapping me from my thoughts.

“You told Spencer you were going to kill him if he didn’t stop being so loud.” Hotch said.

“That’s understandable on a hangover.” Emily reason.

“Em, I was just turning the pages of my book.” Spencer replied laughing. Emily spluttered over her words, but nothing came out causing the rest of us to join spencer. Suddenly the doorbell rang out. We all looked around confused.

“We’re not expecting anyone else are we?” Garcia asked.

“Um” Aaron cleared his throat.

“I think I might know who that is.” My heart sunk as he got up and walked to the door. Everyone swapped a look, trying to catch my eye but I just starred ahead of me. He wouldn’t have actually invited her. Right?

“Hey honey.” Her voice travelled through the halls causing my heart to not only sink even further, but completely shatter in the process. At least at work I could block out the fact he was with her but now he was just rubbing salt in the wound. Emily finally caught my gaze and shot me a supportive look. I just nodded, offering a tight-lipped smile. Eventually the pair of them came back.

“Hey guys, you know Haley.” Hotch said, looking slightly uncomfortable. Everyone greeted her politely enough, but it didn’t take a profiler to feel the shift in the atmosphere.

“Let me get you a chair.” Rossi said, going to stand up. “No, it’s fine, I’ll just sit here” She stated before promptly positioning herself in Aaron’s lap. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I couldn’t watch this. The seven of us sat in a cripplingly awkward silence for a few moments before JJ finally spoke up.

“So, um Haley, how’s jack doing?” She asked politely. “Oh, he’s doing great. Very happy to have his daddy around a lot more now.” Haley responded in a smug tone. As she spoke, she glanced over at me. Clearly noticing my appearance, she threaded her fingers through Aaron’s hair. I averted my gaze, opting to study the details of Rossi’s floor. I heard Hotch clear his throat, almost as if he wanted her to stop. “

I’m glad he’s happy.” JJ replied.

“So am I. Before it was just so hard what with his job and, well – other arrangements – Aaron barely had time for his own son you know. But luckily that’s all been dealt with now.” Haley leant forward and I heard her placing a kiss on his cheek. I couldn’t take this anymore; she was clearly taunting me and as I much as I hated giving into her games – this was so much worse.

“Excuse me.” I said, standing up and heading towards the garden. It took everything inside of me not to break down right then and there. But the minute I reached the garden I lost it. The tears streamed down my face as I tried to quiet my sobs. My heart ached. It felt like everything was crashing down around me. My chest felt hollow. I thought I was over this, over him. I could feel my knees growing weak under me so opted to sit by the edge of the pool, in the hopes to grab some sense of normality. It was a nice night out. It was summer so still warm, but there was enough of a breeze to keep it bearable. I’m sure if looked up I would’ve been able to see the stars, but I was transfixed on the water. Suddenly I heard the back door open. I didn’t turn around, not wanting to face whoever it was.

“I’ve always wanted a pool.” Emily’s voice came from beside me. She sat down, placing her legs in the water next to mine. “I’d love to have this house too.” She stated taking in her surroundings. “What do you say, wanna take Rossi down together and claim all this for ourselves?” She asked nudging my arm. I let out a stiff chuckle but didn’t say anything. Emily took a deep breath before she spoke.

“I’m sorry you had to sit through that” Her voice was sincere. “I don’t know if Hotch invited her, or she just rocked up, but it was out of order either way.” I nodded not trusting my voice right now. “You should know, the rest of us were just as angry. Derek left a few moments after you. He went into the kitchen, but he didn’t come back. I had to send Spencer after to him just to check he wasn’t tearing the place up.” She said light-heartedly. That gave me some comfort, to know I wasn’t being overly sensitive. She let her words hang in the air for a moment and we enjoyed the stillness of the night.

“I just thought.” I began, my voice rough from crying. “That maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe they weren’t actually back together you know?” I turned my gaze towards Emily. She understood. That was one of my favourite things about her. No matter what the situation, whether she’d experienced it herself or not, she was always so deeply empathetic that it helped.

“Listen, nothing I say right now is going to make this any easier. Sure, I could sit here and tell you what a douche bag he’s being” I smiled at her words. “But I know that wouldn’t change anything for you. So, I’ve just come to let you know that we’re all here for you. Take as much time as you need, and when you feel comfortable, come back and join us inside.” She said squeezing my hand.

“Thank you Em. For everything.” She just smiled before standing up and heading inside. By this point I’d stopped crying. You know that moment of calm you experience right after you’ve stopped crying, just before the headache or tiredness kicks in, that is probably my favourite feeling. Which sounds somewhat depressing, but everything just feels so at ease in that moment. Unfortunately, I could not bask in it for long as I heard the back door slide open once again. Thinking it was Emily I called out to her.

“Please don’t tell me I’m going to come in there and see you forcing Rossi to sign us into his will.” I joked, turning around. But instead of being greeted with my friends’ heart-warming chuckle, I saw the man who’d caused this little escape to the garden. It was Aaron.

“Hotch.” I said surprised, scrambling to stand up.

“Hi.” He replied. He looked nervous, relentlessly fidgeting with his hands. It wasn’t normal.

“Why are you here?” I didn’t bother trying to make small talk. What would be the point?

“Um, well I…I just wanted to…” His voice trailed off as he looked to the ground. “Can we sit down?” He asked after a moment. I nodded and made my way over to the beautiful table Rossi had. Aaron sat down but didn’t say anything, just starred ahead of him.

“Are you going to talk or what?” I said bluntly. He looked surprised at my tone but cleared his throat before answering me.

“I just wanted to check on you.” His voice was low, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear what he was saying.

“Check on me?” I replied clearly irritated.

“Yeah I mean you just took off back there, so I wanted to make sure you were okay” He said literally looking anywhere but me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He’d spent a whole month doing the most to avoid talking to me and now, not only he dangles his happiness in my face , but he also has the audacity to ask if I’m okay?

“Yeah I wonder why that is?” I shot back. Hotch went to reply but I cut him off. “No no let’s think about it. What could have possibly made me leave? Was it the fact that Derek telling a story? Nope that doesn’t seem to be it.” I said sarcastically. “Oh, maybe Spencer was rambling about something random? No doesn’t sound right? Gosh I just – I don’t know what it could have been. You got any ideas” I continued. Hotch starred at me, annoyed by my games but not enough to reply. “Wait I remember, it was the fact that my ex-boyfriend just wanted to shove the fact that he’s moved on and obviously didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship further down my throat!” I concluded, standing up to leave.

“That is not fair.” He called after me. I stopped in my tracks, the anger growing inside of me.

“What? What about that is unfair to you?” I replied folding my arms over my chest.

“For you to say I didn’t care about our relationship” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. I scoffed at his words.

“Really? I think it’s perfectly fair considering how you’ve acted. It’s clear that you have no respect for me or what we were.”

“Just because I spend more time with Haley now doesn’t mean that I’ve just disregarded our entire relationship.” He sounded exasperated.

“Spend more time with her? Hotch she was practically fucking you on the chair in there.” I yelled. I’d tried so hard not to lose it but his lack of understanding right now was getting too much for me. “I loved you so much. I gave everything I had into that relationship, and you’ve thrown it all back in my face over one twisted story that your wife decided to spin.” I ran my fingers through my hair trying to calm down. The last thing I needed was for the rest of the team to hear this. Although I didn’t care if Haley did. That bitch. “I don’t know what I did wrong to make you choose her. Maybe I just wasn’t as interesting as her, but you could not have cared less about someone who loved you more. She dragged you down, manipulated you into believing it was your fault that she fucked those other guys. Or when she made you feel bad for choosing to stay in a job that literally makes the world as safer place for people like her or Jack. All I ever wanted was to support you and be there for you to lean on. I wanted to be that one person you could turn to when you felt like the world was crumbling down and you would feel okay. I just wanted to be enough for you. Because that’s what you were for me.” I ranted. Unfortunately, this time I’d been unable to hold back my tears, but I was hoping the darkness of the garden would hide that. Aaron looked crushed, almost guilty. Part of me hurt to seem him like that but another part reminded me he deserved it. I’d say he broke my heart, but he broke much more than that.

“You were that to me too.” He mumbled. His voice was so quiet I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. Clearly noticing my lack of response, he continued. “You meant so much to me and I can’t tell you how painful it’s been without you.”

“Doesn’t really seem like that” I scoffed. He sighed before walking over to me.

“Listen the thing with Haley-“

“If you’re about to tell me why you’re back together with her, please don’t. I can’t handle that right now.” I begged.

“No listen. We aren’t together.” His words took me by surprise.

“What?”

“The night everything kicked off, I’m not going to lie – I did believe her. I mean when she told me that you’d told JJ everything about the divorce, yeah I was mad. It took me so long to open up to you about that, you know the insecurities and the fact I thought Jack was going to resent me or not want me in his life. I trusted you and you just threw it out the window.” I starred at him in shock, unable to speak. Hotch being who he was picked up on my reaction. “What is it?” He asked.

“I can’t believe that’s what she told you.” I said utterly blown away by the fact that Haley was able to lie about something so huge with such ease.

“What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me that’s not what happened?” He sounded apprehensive.

“It couldn’t be further from the truth. She called me to ask where you were and when you’d be home. She must have thought I was lying because then she called JJ. JJ told her she knew she’d rung me and then she hung up.” I explained. Hotch looked just as confused. “I would never tell anyone those things Aaron. No matter how much you hurt me.” He didn’t reply. He looked so torn. “I tried to explain that to you on the night, but you weren’t listening.” I spoke. That caught his attention.

“I know I just felt so betrayed I guess it blinded me.” He replied. “The only reason I’ve stayed as close with her as I have recently is because she was going to keep me away from Jack. I know she had no solid grounds to hold that to and we could have taken it to court if it had gotten that bad, but fathers hardly ever win full custody. I didn’t want to risk it.” He explained. I nodded.

“I understand.” I got it. Jack was his world. And losing him might have just broken him. “

I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am that I let her get between us. I should’ve known, I-I should’ve trusted you.” He rambled. He begun pacing back and forth.

“Hey.” I reached out a grabbed his arm. “Yes you should have trusted me, I’m not going to act like what happened didn’t hurt. But you’re not a mind reader Aaron. You believed the first story you heard. I get it.” I reasoned. Tentatively, he reached out and took my hands in his, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs.

“I missed you. Everyday.” He whispered.

“I did too. I loved you.” I replied softly. His gaze caught mine.

“Loved?” He asked his eyes wracked with worry.

“Part of me still does. I can’t just shut those feelings down. But what you did broke me. And I don’t want to risk that happening again.” I confessed. He nodded.

“I guess I’ll just have to prove myself to you. Because trust me, you’re all I want. And I’ll wait however long you need me to.” He replied. I smiled up at him and wrapped my arms around his neck as his arms travelled to my waist. Maybe we would get back together or eventually just drift apart, but right now I had my best friend back. And that’s all I cared about.

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

Tag list: @jhiddles03 @rexit-mo @gothicwidowsworld @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @llilithsdaughter @azenpal @captainrogers-19 @ijustwannaread2k19 @spngirl05 @stiles-argent24 @joyofbebbanburg @romanogersendgame

#angst #arron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #agent hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #jj #spencer reid #emily prentiss #hotch #hotch x y/n #haley hotchner #david rossi #derek morgan #bau #criminal minds

222 notes · View notes

ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

Text

WPP - Kenny (We’re The Millers)

This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I was struggling to finish it, but, a bright light ascended from the heavens, in the form of an angel, and that angel’s name is @gladerscake

Big thanks to them for helping me out and finishing this imagine. Go follow them and give all the love and support you can muster!

~~~~~~~~~~

Being in the witness protection program was...interesting.

It definitely was not what you were expecting, but then again, you didn’t know helping out a person you cared about would get you involved in a murder, yet here you are.

You had to leave everything behind, not that you had that much of a life to begin with, but it was comfortable. Now, everything was different. New home in a new state, even a new last name. Thankfully, you got to keep your first name, you were grateful for that at least.

You were surprised to find the most annoying thing was the neighbourhood that the program placed you in. It’s like it was made for Mormons or something, your neighbours were too nice, at least the house to the right of yours. You didn’t really know who lived in the house to the left, working from home had the benefit of never going outside and the only reason you knew who lived to your right was cause those neighbours were the type of people to introduce themselves.

Yuck.

But still, you couldn’t help but be a little curious.

You did know, however, that they had only recently moved in since the one morning truck woke up before your alarm rang that morning. You were grouchy the rest of the day, thus you’ve been slightly petty towards your “new” neighbours since then. You definitely needed to work on your attitude...one day.

After being inside your house for more than a week, you decided you wanted some vitamin D, which you rarely ever did so you must’ve been seriously deprived.

You walked out of the door leading to the backyard with a book in hand, frowning when you saw how overgrown the grass was from your laziness. You told yourself you’d do it later, and by later you meant you would mow your yard when you started to hate yourself enough to the point where you felt too guilty leaving it alone.

You huffed as you sat in one of your lawn chairs that you bought when you moved in, lying to yourself that you were going to spend more time outside when you knew you wouldn’t. A first for everything, you supposed.

A few chapters in, you heard a door open and shut in your neighbour’s backyard, but you thought nothing of it, almost too entranced in your book.

You smiled to yourself when you started to hear 1990s R&B playing softly, not your cup of tea but you enjoyed it occasionally. Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls had just started playing when you heard the neighbour’s back door slammed. “Dude, turn that shit off! You’ve been playing that song constantly and I’m actually getting sick of it. God.” You heard an angsty female voice.

Oh no...you lived next a family.

“Hey!”

You flinched, noticing a blonde girl was talking you. “Uh, hey?” You slowly closed your book, reluctantly walking over to the fence separating the backyards when the girl motioned you over.

“Haven’t seen you around before, just move in?” She asked, smirking slightly, looking you up and down.

You mocked her smirk, not liking the almost condescending look she was giving you. “No, been here for awhile. That’s how I know you’ve only just moved in a few weeks ago.”

The girl’s smirk only grew. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Casey, and that loser is Kenny.” She pointed to the table behind her, seeing a blonde boy sitting somewhat dejectedly in one of the chairs fiddling with a small CD player. “Hey, TLC, get over here!” The boy looked to Casey with a panicked expression, visibly looking like he wasn’t sure if the girl meant it or not. She rolled her eyes, “Come on, dude!”

The boy nodded, frantically walking away to join Casey at the fence. “Hey.” He stuttered, blushing when he noticed your eyes on him.

Casey rolled her eyes yet again. “Yeah, this is Kenny.”

Kenny waved quite adorably, giving you a tight lipped smile. “Did you just move in?”

“No, I-”

“We’ve already had this talk, she’s been here longer than we have.” Casey interrupted, making your blood boil a little bit, her attitude almost worse than yours.

Kenny frowned slightly, but covered it up with a smile. “Oh.”

“Yep. We’ve already become besties.” You said sarcastically, grinning widely, making Kenny genuinely smile a little.

“Kids!” A middle aged man with a stupid haircut, to you anyway, walked over with hesitant look on his face. “Who’s this?”

“Y/N, your neighbour that’s lived here longer than you have. Saved you the trouble of telling him yourself, Casey.” You sneered.

“Oh. Well, I’m David and we’re the Millers! My wife, Sarah, is at the market right now, but I’m sure she’d be glad to meet you sometime.” He smiled widely, making you uncomfortable.

“Uh, dad, chill out. You’re gonna scare away the only girl I find suitable to be friends with in this shit neighbourhood.” Casey whispered harshly.

You didn’t really want to be friends with Casey, you never really got along with girls. Clearly, reading outside was a bad choice...

“Ha ha, if you sass me one more time today, you will be grounded young lady.” David forced another smile.

“Uh, Dad...”

“Shut up, Kenny.”

You quickly realized where the Kenny kid was in the family food chain. It was a shame, the dude was pretty easy on the eyes and seemed nice from what you’ve seen. “Look, I’m just gonna go. Nice meeting you fine folks...” You waved awkwardly, turning around and practically speed walking inside your house.

Well, that was fun...never going outside ever again.

The overall encounter put you in a sour mood, so when the doorbell rang you prayed to god that it wasn’t the yearly check in with law enforcement cause you’d probably get yourself in trouble with that attitude of yours.

You were mildly shocked to see that awkward Kenny guy outside your door, his eyes trained on his feet before you opened the door. “Kenny Miller, right?”

“Uh...yeah, Miller. Uh, I just want to apologize for my, uh, family’s behavior. They don’t have the best of manners, but they’re good people, I swear!” He ranted at such a quick pace that it almost flew right over your head. “So, yeah, sorry.”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “You don’t have to be sorry, especially on the behalf of your family. They don’t seem like the type to appreciate it anyway.”

His eyes widened, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “No, no, no, it’s not like that! They, uh, appreciate me.” You kept your mouth shut, giving him a sympathetic look with a soft smile. He sighed. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“To me, it is. I’ve been in that situation before, so it’s not that hard to notice.”

“Oh...well, they can be nice sometimes I guess.”

“I hope so. Well, it was nice to meet you, Kenny.” You stuck your hand out, smiling when he hesitated but shook your outstretched hand gently.

A week later, you and Kenny actually became friends despite the two of you being almost complete opposites. He was able to poke through your cynical exterior, which was extremely rare for someone to do. He made you laugh, smile, and actually enjoy life when you were with him. You didn’t like it at first, but his adorkable personality won you over.

Kenny was more than overjoyed, he finally had a friend, not one out of pity anyway. The first time you two had hung out, he came “home” with a huge grin on his face. Of course, Casey had to tease him about it all the time.

“I still don’t understand how she can be friends with that loser and not me!” Casey ranted. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“Casey, stop calling Kenny a loser, please.” Sarah sighed, tapping away on her keyboard.

As soon as Sarah said that, Kenny walked through the door with another grin on his face. “Hey, Ma!”

“You don’t have to call me that here, hon.” Sarah voiced, shutting her laptop and walking out of the kitchen, but she smiled to herself.

“Pop your cherry yet?” Casey smirked evilly.

Kenny immediately blushed. “I told you, we’re just friends...”

She rolled her eyes. “You obviously want to be more than just friends with her. You should just ask her out and get it over with.”

“But...Melissa...”

Casey huffed loudly. “Dude, I already told you, she’s probably moved on by now. She was a total babe, she can and probably has done way better than you.”

“Hey...” Kenny frowned, to which Casey just shrugged, her eyes training back to her phone. He sighed as he sat down across from his “sister.” “I do like her...but I don’t know how to bring it up. I’m awful at talking to girls about...that kind of stuff.”

Casey snorted. “Yeah, no kidding.” But she dropped her amused smirk when she saw Kenny glaring. “Sorry, sorry.” She sassed. “I mean, it did work out with the ginger to be fair, but we have to stay in this shithole until further notice. But I really do think you should shoot your shot with what’s her name.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just-”

“That girl is bad news.” David suddenly voiced, walking into the kitchen.

“What do you mean by that?” Casey asked.

“Uh, hello? Pay attention to your surroundings instead of that stupid phone of yours to see that we are in witness protection. We can’t trust any of these creepy neighbours.”

“Uh, I think you’re a tad bit paranoid, father dearest.”

“Y/N’s really cool though!” Kenny expressed.

David rolled his eyes. “But we don’t really know her, we don’t know if she’s a snitch or something.”

Casey laughed. “Wow, you really are paranoid, dude.”

“Ha ha, very funny, just go to your room and listen to your Metallicas and AC/DCs.”

Casey’s face contorted into a disgusted scowl. “I don’t listen to that garbage.”

“Shut up.” David simply replied, making Casey stand up and storm out of the room and up the stairs. “Look, Ken, I get you like this girl, but you need to be careful. Don’t say things you shouldn’t and all that. You have a tendency to not know when to shut your mouth. So, don’t do that, kay?”

Kenny nodded curtly, avoiding David’s eyes as he felt his face heat up in slight anger. He knew he had some...issues with keeping his mouth shut about things that should be kept a secret, but he grew up, right? He’s not as naïve as he was before they went to Mexico, but his “family” still treated him like he was five. Plus, he knew you weren’t the type to be a snitch.

While Kenny was dealing with feeling underappreciated, you were having your own set of issues to handle. Today was the day for a check up with law enforcement to make sure you were on your best behavior. You always were, but it still made you anxious to no end. And you prayed that Kenny wouldn’t rush in to your house like he got into the habit of doing when you were interrogated.

Of course, that didn’t happen.

“For fuck’s sake...” You muttered under your breath when you saw Kenny’s shocked and scared face when he saw you sitting with a couple local police officers.

On your end, it just looked like he was scared of police officers. But Kenny’s mind immediately went haywire, thinking that you called them over to investigate them even though the police were already informed of “the Millers” situation.

“Kenny, now’s not a good time.” You sighed.

“No, no, it’s okay.” The police officer in front of you said. “We’re done here anyway.” He walked out of your house with his partner, leaving you and Kenny in an awkward silence.

“What was that all about?” Kenny asked, not being able to control the bitter tone in his voice. “Did you think we’re that bad or something?”

“Kenny, I-”

“We’ve been doing really well here!” Kenny interrupted. “No problems with anybody, been on our best behavior.”

“Kenny.”

“I don’t wanna go to jail. I can’t go to jail. We’ve only been here for a couple months.”

“Kenny, stop!” You finally yelled, losing your temper. “They were here to check up on me, for fuck’s sake.”

Kenny’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but still had a slight expression of panic. “Here for you? B-But-”

“I’m in witness protection, you dweeb, same as you.”

“Oh...Wait, how did you know I’m in witness protection?”

“Your family,” You finger quoted, “looks nothing like you. All of you don’t look anything alike. How paranoid and secretive that David is, it wasn’t too hard to put things together. You rambling off like an absolute moron a minute ago just reaffirmed my theory.”

Kenny frowned. “Dang, I thought I had worked on that.”

You smiled slightly. “It’s alright, Ken. I’m no snitch, and I’m not very judgmental about someone’s past. What did you even do though? You’re definitely not the type to break the law.” You chuckled.

“Oh, well, we kinda smuggled some drugs across the Mexican border.” He stuttered.

“Holy shit, dude! That’s sick! What was it? Was it coke?” You grinned, eager to learn.

Kenny blinked at your excitement, but obliged to all your questions, sitting down next to you. “No, it was marijuana.”

Your face slightly dropped in excitement. “Oh. I really think weed should be legal. It’s stupid, it’s not even a hard drug.”

“Well, we’re lucky we even made it out alive. But what did you go through to get yourself here?”

Now, you definitely didn’t judge past crimes of others, if they’ve atoned for it and changed that is, but you had no idea if Kenny would judge you. You actually found yourself not wanting him to look at you in a different light, and you’ve never felt that way before.

Kenny seemed perfectly sweet, almost too sweet to judge anyone, but on the other hand...the stuff that had landed you in the program was definitely heavier than some weed smuggling.

Maybe it would be too much for him. Maybe it would be best to just make something up, something less horrible, something he wouldn’t be too shocked by. As tempting as that route felt, the idea of lying to him weirdly didn’t sit well with you, though.

Kenny was quick to notice the lengthy pause that followed his question, as well as the way your shoulders tensed and your eyes averted to the parquet floor. Oh no. Had he pried into something too personal? Was he an idiot for asking?

“Oh, um...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” Kenny hurried to assure you, slight panic beginning to etch his bluish-green eyes, his fists clenching and unclenching involuntarily. “I was just curious, is all! I’m sorry if it’s too persona-“

“It’s okay!” To his surprise, you pulled on a tight-lipped smile, giving him a look as nonchalant as you could manage at the moment. “Really, you don’t have to apologize for asking. Plus, you already told me about your thing, so...” You trailed off, softly, wondering how to proceed.

As much as you resented the thought of Kenny seeing you differently, you decided even that unpleasant outcome would still be better than lying to him. You’d rather not. You liked Kenny. Despite not having spent a tremendous amount of time together, you could tell he was a genuinely good person, and you definitely enjoyed his company. Not to mention, it would be a blatant lie if you said you weren’t at all attracted to him.

Casey may have spent most of their interactions calling him a “loser” in some form or another, but you couldn’t be farther away from agreeing with her. A part of you was positively annoyed with the way she treated him. Then again, taste is subjective. It wasn’t Casey’s fault if she didn’t have a good sense of it.

With a deep intake of air, you nervously flipped a loose strand of hair over your shoulder, still avoiding direct eye-contact with Kenny. “I, uh...It’s a rough one, really. And kind of a long story. I wouldn’t wanna dump something like that on you, if you’d rather not hear it”

He tentatively pursed his plump lips, but nonetheless nodded for you to keep going. “I’m sure I can handle it! Whatever it is, I’m not gonna judge you, Y/N. I promise!”

Promise, huh? Guess you were going to have to see about that.

Trying to ignore the rapidly increasing pace of your heart and slight tremble in your fingers, you began your story.

You didn’t want to go into too much detail, for the fear of oversharing, but you did tell him as much as you felt you could. About how you used to have a friend...a pretty close friend, who you cared about a great deal, who had always been kind and generous, alas, a bit of a troublemaker.

About how she had fallen in with the wrong crowd, something you admittedly failed to see coming. How that crowd turned out to be a notoriously vicious gang that had it out for some other poor girl, who had apparently slept with one of the gang leaders’ boyfriend without realizing it.

How that gang, your friend included, lured her onto a rooftop to “fuck with her” and “teach her a lesson.” Only that night, they went too far and ended up pushing her off. The girl died instantly, and due to the heaping pile of evidence, it wasn’t a particularly long investigation. Almost everyone involved were arrested shortly after, and you, having been brought in as one of the witnesses, had a choice whether you wanted to testify against your friend or not.

At first you weren’t sure if you wanted to do that and make matters worse for her. However, after some much-needed reflection and consideration, you decided it would be the right thing to do. Someone had died, and your friend played a part in it. You couldn’t turn a blind eye to something that big simply because you two were close.

Your friend was put away, along with several other gang members. Still, quite a few of them were still out there, and they definitely seemed like the type to hold serious grudges. You were no longer safe at your former home, and now...well, there you where.

Kenny listened intently all the while, not once daring to interrupt, not even to ask a question. By the way your breathing had hitched and your lips had stuttered at certain parts, he could tell how hard that must’ve been for you to go through in the first place, and how unsettling it was for you to revisit those moments in order to share your story with him.

You didn’t notice, but as you were nearing the end, Kenny had inched to sit closer to you, his large hand carefully landing on your shoulder with a soft but warm-hearted squeeze. He had briefly hesitated in making that move, but the need to offer you comfort and reassurance overpowered his nervousness. His only hope was that you wouldn’t flinch at his touch, and so he felt a huge wave of relief wash over him when you did no such thing.

“So...that’s about it. Sorry, I know it’s a fucking bummer story, compared to your weed smuggling adventure.” You attempted a chuckle, only it came out as more of a sad scoff.

Your heart was still pounding and you were still reluctant to look up at him. Although, as you finally noticed Kenny’s warm hand gently squeezing your shoulder, you felt a soothing brush of comfort spread through your limbs, and you couldn’t deny how nice it felt.

“Whoa...that’s...I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Kenny frowned, unsure of what the right thing to say could be.

“It’s okay, really. I’ve had some time to process it and move on. Well...not completely, but I’d say I’m doing much better now.”

Kenny went silent for a minute, clearly still digesting the information, and the worries you had about him looking at you differently came back in full force. You opened your mouth to ask him about it, but he beat you by a millisecond, speaking first. “Why...why were you so nervous about telling me?”

So he had noticed. Figures. The art of the poker face wasn’t something you’d ever truly mastered. It sometimes annoyed you how easy your anxious state was to spot, but there wasn’t much you could do about that.

“I don’t know, I...I guess I didn’t want you to see me as a snitch or judge me-“

“Judge you?” Kenny interrupted, sounding confused about the mere insinuation. “For what, not sticking up for your friend when she had got herself involved in a murder?”

“I mean, she was still my friend, so...”

“So what? That doesn’t change the fact that she got in the middle of something so horrible, that could’ve been avoided, if she had paid more attention to who she hung around.”

You couldn’t say you had expected that. It was almost weird hearing Kenny talk that way, but you were definitely relieved to hear where he so firmly stood in regards to the whole “judging you” idea.

You bit your bottom lip in agitation as a thought you had been wrestling with for a while creeped its way into your mind again. “Sometimes I feel like maybe I could’ve done something...could’ve checked up on her more or somehow stopped her from hanging out with them...maybe I could’ve kept her from having anything to do with it.” Your voice grew quieter, sounding barely above a whisper as guilt flashed through your eyes, your muscles tensing, uneasily, at the thought. Kenny was immediately closer, his arm wrapping around you, as if trying to shelter you from your own thoughts.

“Come on, don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. You can’t control the actions of others, not even your friends. Least of all your friends, probably.”

You allowed a small smile to touch the corner of your lips as you instinctively leaned into Kenny, his closeness calming you, his soft reassurances shushing the self-deprecating thoughts he could sense looming over you.

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess. I just try not to think about it often, it really sucks diving into that stuff.”

“Of course it sucks. I just hope you know that none of it was even a little bit your fault. From what I can tell after spending some time with you...you’re a really good person, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, noting the way your faces were only a few inches apart by that point. The close proximity brought a rosy tinge to your cheeks. “You think so?”

“I do! Why wouldn’t I? You’re smart, you’re funny when you want to be, you’re great to be around, and heck, you’re one of the very few people I know who doesn’t make me feel like I’m constantly doing something wrong.”

Hearing that made you simultaneously happy and sad. With the way Kenny’s “family” treated him almost around the clock, it was no wonder he felt that way. You wished he didn’t have to. You believed someone as wonderful as him deserved so much better. If only he had at least one person close to him who would tell him how much better he was than most guys out there, how anyone should be lucky to call him a friend... or maybe more than just a friend.

In that moment, you found yourself thinking what it would be like if you were that person. You imagined it would feel the same way it always did when you were around Kenny, only better. In all honesty, you couldn’t find a single reason not to try. What harm was there in trying? Oh, that’s right...something could go badly wrong, and then whatever friendship you had with him would be in shambles.

That’s what the pessimistic side of you thought about it. But the other side, the more hopeful and affectionate side, had other ideas.

Even though you and Kenny were brought into the witness protection program by very different circumstances, you were still in it together. You didn’t have to hide your true identities or your past, at least not from each other. That had to count for something, right?

While you were taking a second to collect your thoughts, Kenny was facing some inner turmoil of his own. With the newfound closeness of the two of you, his cheeks were positively crimson, his pulse quickening, heart thumping against his rib cage. Any doubts he’d had about whether or not he wanted to ask you out had vanished - he absolutely wanted to do that. But how? When? Would now be a good time? He wasn’t sure. Yet, he was very aware of the fact that if he were to lean in just a little bit closer, he could just kiss you right then and there...

Kenny briefly remembered David’s “count to three” method, but for some reason it didn’t feel right to use. Not with you, not like that. All he wanted was to just go with the feeling, and that feeling was beckoning him to your lips.

Oh, screw it. If you were to push him away, so be it. He would probably die a little inside and never attempt to do anything like that ever again, but at least he would know your immediate answer.

“Kenny...?”

Your soft questioning voice reached his ears as his gaze trailed over your delicate face, taking in every feature, and with a soft but resolute breath, he leaned in.

Your eyes went wide when Kenny’s lips landed on yours. You froze for a second, not knowing what to do. Luckily, your instantly skipping heart gave you the hint you needed to flutter your eyes closed and melt into it.

He kissed you so gently, so carefully, but not like he was afraid of scaring you away. More like he wanted you feel completely safe and give you every chance to stop it the second you wanted to.

You didn’t.

Instead, you wrapped an arm around his neck, your fingertips brushing the ends of his short sandy hair, your lips moving seamlessly and warmly against his own.

Kenny couldn’t believe you were actually kissing him back, but damn, he was thrilled that you were. He felt the affection in him surge as the softness of your lips put his mind in a haze. His hand timidly slid down to your waist, bringing you closer to him, and you willingly went, deepening the kiss as you did.

After a few blissful moments you finally broke away from his lips, your noses nearly brushing each other as you looked up at him through glimmering eyes. “I was almost convinced I would have to do that myself...”

Kenny breathed a soft chuckle, not taking his gaze off of yours. “To be honest, so was I...”

You grinned at his burning cheeks, releasing a light chuckle of your own before reconnecting your lips for another kiss, swallowing the muted grunt that rumbled from Kenny’s throat.

Things were going to get better now. For both of you, you were sure of it. Kenny was finally going to have someone who would show him what it’s like to be truly wanted and appreciated, and you were going to have someone who wouldn’t dream of hurting you and who you knew would always do his best to understand you, give you everything he could give.

Maybe this whole witness protection program thing wouldn’t be such a tedious affair, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks again for helping me @gladerscake , you’re the sweetest ❤

#we're the millers #kenny miller #kenny miller x reader #kenny miller imagine

157 notes · View notes

waveypedia · 3 years

Text

New Days

Rymin Week Day 4: Off the Train

1 2 5 6 7

Ao3

Contrary to popular belief (his parents), Min-Gi is not a morning person.

He’d trained himself into getting up and going to bed early, first at his parents’ insistence, then as a necessary skill for all the classes he was taking in high school (Gotta make that college application shine!). Yet given the choice, he would happily stay up all night and wake up extremely late.

On the train, all of Min’s obligations and restrictions suddenly vanished. Although his schedule was primarily dictated by not dying, which led him to sleep and wake up at odd hours (and telling time on the train is a complicated task anyways), he started sleeping in later and later. Now that he’s off the train, and most of his days consist of driving, songwriting, and practicing, he’s free to wake up as late as he wishes.

It’s why he finds himself slowly slipping into the world of wakefulness one unassuming Thursday morning. The van is already moving, as per usual - Ryan doesn’t mind the quiet mornings as Min sleeps away. Golden rays of sunlight peak through the van’s windows.

In the driver’s seat, Ryan is spotlighted in one. The sun’s brilliant hues turn his brown hair into shades of tree bark and make his soft skin glow. He’s beautiful.

Ryan is a morning person, in contrast to Min, but he would very much like to be a night person. They’ve spent ages lamenting the fateful injustice. Unlike Min, who used to force himself to go to bed early even if it meant lying awake in the dark for hours, Ryan chooses to just run on little sleep. He’d go out and party and/or perform all night, crash for a few hours, and wake up at his usual time.

He’s been getting better, though. Just like Min, they’ve both been making bounds of progress now that they’re off the train and free from restrictions. Every time Ryan goes to bed at a decent hour, it eases the worry in Min’s heart.

They’re both doing so much better now. Min never thought he’d be grateful for getting spontaneously kidnapped by a magical death train, but he and Ryan are so much happier now than they’d ever thought they’d be.

Ryan glances over, smiling fondly. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

It’s a running joke between them, one that started way back on the train with Kez, but Min’s heart never fails to make a little jump whenever Ryan calls him beauty.

“Morning,” Min replies, stretching. He digs around in a bag at his feet. “Did you move the songbook?”

“Yeah, I was working on it earlier,” Ryan says. He jerks a thumb behind him without taking his eyes off the road. “I left some new lyrics and chords for you to look over.”

Min smiles. “Thanks.” Following Ryan’s directions, he grabs the songbook, a blue pencil, and his coveted mini-synth. Items in hand, he carefully slips into the passenger’s seat and buckles up.

Ryan shoots him a quick grin and turns his music off so Min can write.

For the next few hours, they stay as they are - Ryan keeps them on track to their next gig, while Min tackles the lines Ryan wrote earlier. It was a bit of a learning curve, figuring out how to write songs together, when they first started out. Ryan only knew chords and tablature, while Min only knew notated music from his viola days. Now, though, a couple months into their journey, they’ve worked out a good system. Whoever comes up with lyrics or a melody first (usually lyrics, and usually Ryan) will pen it along with any chords or notes they can think of. The other will look it over, edit it, and add the missing element. It usually makes for a solid first draft.

Min twirls the pencil in his hand. Blue. His favorite color. Ryan usually writes in a red pencil, from a set of colored pencils he stole from his younger brother before leaving. It makes contributions easy to distinguish when writing and editing.

Every so often, while Min looks over Ryan’s ideas, he’ll pull out his mini-synth and tap out a melody. Both of them find it easier to create melodies with an instrument in hand. Min may not play his mini-synth on stage like Ryan plays his guitar, but it still makes him happy to play it regularly. Not as a toy, not as something he has to hide from his boss and his parents, but as a genuine instrument.

As he writes and plays, Ryan listens. He keeps his attention on the road and map, but chimes in every so often with little affirmations and suggestions.

“Is that a D?” Ryan muses. “Under a G?”

Min thumbs the corner of the page. “Yeah, I think it sounds cool. Thoughts?”

Ryan graces him with a patented Ryan Akagi grin, all teeth. “I like it! I’ll look it over when you drive.” Ryan squeezes his fists on the steering wheel. “I’m really glad we’re working together, Min. This is way better than anything I’ve written solo.”

Min ducks his head, cheeks flushing. “Oh- Uh- I like writing with you too,” he replies. “

In the afternoon, they pull over and Min takes the wheel. Sometimes at this time they stop for food - they’ve made it their mission to catalogue all the small restaurants across Canada and America on the way to New York for future reference. But today Ryan got a late start on driving because he was songwriting (“Inspiration strikes when it strikes, Min! Who am I to deny my muses?” Never mind that Ryan is uncharacteristically close-lipped about what/who said muses even are), so they eat separately in the car. They step out to stretch for a minute, and Min hands over the songbook and food. Then they’re off again.

Ryan makes a few more edits with his red pencil, but they always collaborate on the second pass. At both of their insistence, they have to wait until one of them isn’t driving to truly discuss it. Min thought he might have to put his foot down on this, but Ryan was insistent - he’s an experienced driver and knows far to well just how dangerous and difficult driving is.

The afternoon passes without much fanfare. Min keeps his eyes on the road while Ryan edits and eventually breaks out his guitar. The highway is long, flat, and unassuming. Few other cars pass them.

It’s for that exact reason Ryan gets an idea that is both brilliant and stupid.

“Min. Min. Minminminminminmi-”

“What.” A feeling of dread washes over Min before the words are even out of Ryan’s mouth.

Ryan grins toothily at him. “I’m gonna stick my head out the window.”

Min chokes on air., surprised. “Wh- Ryan. Why would you want to do that? Didn’t you have enough thrills on the death train?”

“Eh,” Ryan says, shrugging. “I’ve always wanted to do it, but i couldn’t exactly do it while driving when I was touring alone. Besides, my parents would never let me.”

“For good reason,” Min grumbles, but in his gut he knows Ryan’s already won.

Ryan frowns at him. “Look, I’m not stupid. I’ll be careful. I won’t lean so far out of the car that I’ll fall. I’ll come back in if there are more cars or it looks like I might hit something.”

“Or if we start turning,” Min warns.

Ryan’s replying smile is blinding. “Does that mean it’s a yes from you?”

Min rolls his eyes. “Just try not to die. If I show up to the venue with only half the band, the manager won’t be happy with me.”

“Yes!” Ryan punches his fist in the air and dances triumphantly - or, he dances as much as one can while sitting in the seat of a moving van.

Ryan rolls down the window and sticks his head out. He’s crouching on the seat, half-standing, in order to fully fit through the window. His upper body is out of the car. His arms wave and flail, making his jacket sleeves flutter even more violently in the wind.

Min starts to shout a warning, to yell about safety precautions, to give into the panic in his heart and yell get down, but the words die in his throat the minute he lays eyes on Ryan’s face.

Ryan is joyful. Euphoric. Happy. He has always been a smiley person, but times where he is truly, unadulteredly happy are rarer than you’d think. Here, riding half-outside of the van while they drive to their fame and dreams, he seems truly free.

Min smiles. God, he loves that man.

Ryan glances back, the light reflecting off his glasses, and flashes Min an adrenaline-fueled grin and a shaky thumbs up. His ankles wobble a bit. Before Min realizes what he’s doing, he reaches out and grabs Ryan for support.

Ryan’s mouth drops open in a small ‘o’. Min moves to take his hand back, but before he can, Ryan twists and reaches back inside the car to grab Min’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

Min freezes.

Ryan is smiling, more bashful and careful now than before. He’s still happy, but… nervous? Anxious?

Min’s heart flutters. He manages to smile back.

“I got you,” he says, although it comes out as a whisper.

“O-oh,” Ryan whispers. His eyes are wide and soft. “I… thank you, Min.”

Min ducks his head awkwardly. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of the drive is quiet. It’s not awkward, but it’s not as comfortable and natural as it usually would be.

Something has changed.

Min grips the wheel tighter and stares down the road, for a lack of real target. If looks could kill, the road would be up in flames.

It’s… confusing. He’s not sure why a change in their dynamic is so upsetting and off-putting. He and Ryan have gone through so many changes over the years, and they’ve always been able to come back to themselves in the end.

Besides, it’s not like they had an argument. Or even a misunderstanding. All they did was hold onto each other to keep balance. Why does this feel so monumental?

Min chances a glance away from the road to look at Ryan. He’s curled up in the passenger seat (because Ryan seems incapable of sitting normally when he’s not driving) with his guitar. The songbook, flipped open to their latest draft, is balanced precariously on Ryan’s knee. He’s bent over to read it accurately, which must be difficult, especially in the dim light. But he seems to be managing. He’s humming softly to himself, almost too quiet for Min to catch it. As he’s focused on the road (no matter how much he wants to listen to Ryan’s ethereal yet natural and homey singing) the melody floats in and out of focus. Ryan is also plucking at his guitar, playing mostly individual notes instead of chords. It’s calming and comforting, not to mention beautiful. If Min weren’t driving, he might just fall right asleep. Even though he’s the one playing, Ryan seems drowsy as well, judging by the way he’s leaning against the back of the seat.

As they draw closer to their destination, Ryan seems to consciously shake himself into wakefulness. He sits up and puts the songbook away to focus fully on his guitar. As Min pulls off the highway and navigates the city streets, Ryan tunes his guitar and warms up.

They run through a couple vocal exercises together, practicing harmonies and lyrics as well as warm-ups. Min is a bit shaky since he’s focused on the road, but he and Ryan know their songs by heart, and the warm-up does the job. He’s still a bit jittery as he pulls into the venue parking lot, but that’s normal. He hasn’t quite shaken his stage fright yet, but as long as he has Ryan at his side, he’s able to perform. More than that, he has fun performing.

Besides, Ryan confided in him a while back, before their first real show. “You’re not the only one with stage fright, Min,” he’d confessed. “Yeah, I love it, and the adrenaline basically cancels out the fear, but it’s still there. You just have to go for it.”

Min had felt comforted enough to perform with that, with the admission that even the seemingly-fearless Ryan Akagi, who’d always seemed more at home on a stage than at his actual home got stage fright. But then Ryan had hesitated, glanced down, and taken Min’s hand. Min’s heart had nearly stuttered to a stop in his chest. He almost missed what Ryan said next.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if you get stage fright or not,” Ryan had said cheerfully, too cheerfully, although Min barely noticed. “All that really matters is if you enjoy what you’re doing. It’s more admirable to conquer your fear in order to chase your dreams than to not have fear.”

Min had smiled back, shaky but euphoric. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, not unlike how he felt onstage. “That’s very profound.”

Ryan had laughed and squeezed his hand. “Eh, I have a lot of experience. Listen to me, I’m the master!”

The mood subtly shifted with the joke, and suddenly they were laughing and Ryan let go of his hand and they were pushing the synthesizer on stage and it was all a blur from there until the curtain went down and Ryan was squealing and hugging him and picking him up and screaming We did it! You did it!

What a first show.

Min shakes himself back to reality and pulls into the venue parking lot. Ryan jumps out of the van before Min is fully parked, despite Min’s loud protests. He rolls his eyes and lets Ryan run ahead anyway.

While Ryan gets checked in with the manager, Min parks and unloads Barold and the rest of their equipment (which is pretty much just Barold now, since Ryan took his guitar with him in his haste). He heads inside, he and Ryan set up, and then they’re standing onstage behind a lowered curtain, waiting in darkness and silence for their cue.

Suddenly, Ryan turns around and flashes Min a thumbs-up and a bright smile. It’s more jerky and jittery than usual, probably because of the nerves and adrenaline. He seems a little more on edge today, though.

“We’re gonna do great!” Ryan promises, grinning.

Min smiles back. “We’re gonna do rad,” he replies. The tension between them dissipates, and the curtain goes up. Ryan turns toward the crowd, beaming his particular I’m-on-stage-but-I’m-really-enjoying-myself smile, and greets them. The crowd goes wild.

Energy floods Min’s body, and he grins back at the crowd. Ryan counts them off, and they burst into their opening number with the power and passion it requires. The crowd screams, but Min can barely hear them over the music and Ryan’s voice.

He’s living. Far more than he ever was before.

They both are.

After the show is a blur of chatting with audience members, grabbing something to eat, and scheduling another show. By the time they head to the hotel, Min’s exhausted. But he dutifully puts all the equipment in their hotel room and locks up the van before he collapses into bed.

Ryan is already in their room when Min comes in. He’s sitting on the bed, facing away from the door, with his hands on his lap. Most striking is the absence of his guitar. Ryan may have been playing all day, but it’s rare for him to be without his instrument and yet so still like this.

Ryan, to his core, is always moving. Even when he’s not physically moving, he’s always singing, humming, thinking. Yet now, he sits in absolute stillness.

“Ryan?” Min whispers. His voice is quieter than he intended, but Ryan jumps at it all the same.

When he turns, he’s smiling disarmingly, but it’s too wide and shaky to be natural. Ryan may have convinced someone else with that expression, but Min knows him too well to be fooled.

Min strides into the room with three short steps, locking the door behind him. He stops in front of Ryan, so close their knees are almost brushing. Ryan blushes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I- Nothing.” Ryan won’t meet his gaze.

Min scowls. “Come on, Ryan. Aren’t we past this? Didn’t the train teach us not to do all this not-talking crap?”

Ryan flinches. “I- Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m just… thinking.”

“About what?” Min finally moves, stepping around Ryan to sit on the bed beside him. He takes care to keep his voice soft and gentle. He doesn’t want to scare Ryan again. Whatever’s going on seems to have him skittish all of a sudden.

Ryan bites his lip. “Min, I… you know I care about you, right?”

Min blinks, surprised. “Of course I do.” Hesitantly, he reaches out to take Ryan’s hand, running his thumb over Ryan’s knuckles. “I care about you too.”

Ryan blushes. His cheeks are nearly scarlet right now. Min’s a bit too tired to unpack that all on his own right now, but he knows it means something. It spurs him on, gives him a burst of courage and energy in the adrenaline crash phase after a show. “I’m glad we’re-” He’s about to say friends, but the word dies on his lips. Suddenly, it feels all wrong, but he can’t put his finger on why.

Slowly, Ryan turns to face him. His eyes are wide and anxious, his lips slightly parted, but there’s a set determination in him that shows in his face. He reaches out to take Min’s other hand, and… leans in closer.

Min finds himself leaning in simultaneously. Soon they’re close enough Min can feel Ryan’s breath on his lips. It’s hot in more ways than one.

Oh. Oh.

So that’s why today, Ryan’s hand on his wrist, the trusting and yet shocked expression of his, felt so weird and so right at the same time.

Their eyes meet. A silent exchange passes between them.

Do you want to do this?

Yes. Do you?

Yes.

If asked after, Min couldn’t say if he initiated it or if Ryan did.

All he knows is the gap between them is now nonexistent, and Ryan’s lips are on his, and suddenly it’s everything he’s ever wanted.

The kiss is slow. Hesitant. Exploring new territory, figuring out boundaries. But it’s not awkward.

No, they are Ryan and Min, Min and Ryan, Chicken Choice Judy, and they have come much too far to be awkward. They’ve been building towards this moment since they first met, even if they didn’t know it.

It feels like a found puzzle piece of himself Min didn’t even realize he was missing. Now, he is complete. Now, they are complete.

Now, they are both truly living their lives to the fullest.

this fic is just: *headcanon* *headcanon* *headcanon* *hea-

oh man i almost didn't finish this one in time. it's still the 12th here, though (by a couple hours!), so i'm good! it's hard to write a full one-shot every day, but i've already come farther than i thought i would! i told myself i would finish this today, and i did! i also told myself i would finish the week and my remaining prompts, and i will. :)

title is from new days by dreamcatcher. that's the second time i've used it as a title but the last one was for a zine fic so i can get away with using it here, lol. i really love that song, so that's why. the lyrics translation are absolutely nothing like this, but for some reason it gives off road trip vibes (at least to me), so it works really well for this particular piece!

okay confession time: i think this is the first kiss scene i've ever written lol. i was writing it and i was like "hey wait a minute i have no clue what i'm doing have i done this before??? i don't think so???" it didn't help that i didn't intend to write a kiss scene, but i got to the place where i'd intended to end it and it felt like the natural progression. i'm gonna go research good kiss writing after this. i would've done it while i was writing, but i didn't want to post this any later than i had to

i have a bunch of infinity train snippets and wips i wrote right after book 4 aired and my interest in the show peaked, and i really thought i had something that would fit well for off the train but i guess i didn't?? maybe i just daydreamed it and never actually penned it skfhksl. so i was kind of flying by the seat of my pants for this one. i think it's my favorite of rymin week so far though! it was also the most fun to write. i really love introspective pieces. ryan and min off the train, after their relationship is repaired, when they're in a much better place and truly happy with each other, is also my favorite time in their lives to explore. they're so much happier and healthier, and they can truly start to explore themselves and realize their dreams.

if you have a piano or something on hand you should play the d and g notes together. they sound heavenly. in choir two years ago we had that chord and i have never forgotten it because i love it so much.

if you ever wanna talk infinity train, writing, these amazing characters, or really anything hmu here on my tumblr or twitter! thank you for reading, and please leave a reblog/like/comment if you enjoyed it!

@ryminweek

31 notes · View notes

bepp-ers · 3 years

Text

Pretty little lie | S. Todoroki X Reader

“[Name]-san, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Currently, [Name] was not happy. Why?

Her parents had only gone and made an arranged marriage for her! To some goddamn celery stick of a guy!

Her blood boiled just remembering how she found out.

On the balcony of a large bedroom, several potted plants waved idly in the breeze, echoing [Name] ‘s feelings.

Everything was peaceful, and every now and again she would activate her quirk to shoot some life into one of the plants and smile as it lifted a leaf to her, almost akin to a cat’s paw.

Then she was called into the main dining room. Not a good sign to start with, but what was coming next was much much worse.

“[Name], you’re here.” Her mother droned, not particularly caring as usual.

Her father did his best to act interested, and motioned for her to sit on a cushion. “Now, you’ve turned 18 recently and we have gone ahead and made a decision.”

[Name] sighed. “What, am I working as a botanist like I’ve wanted to for years?”

Her father scowled. “Enough of that cheek, young lady. You are getting married, as a matter of fact.”

The girl choked on her words and spluttered into panic.

“I- you- what the fuck?!” “[Name]! Language!” “Sorry, but what the hell?! You can’t just marry me off to some random guy! This is a joke, tell me it’s a joke!”

Her mother sipped her drink and rolled her eyes.

“Grow up. The young man is part of a wealthy family and has a strong quirk. You should consider yourself lucky.”

[Name] stood up, slamming her drink on the table.

“I already have a partner. And I don’t want to get married until I know I’m ready. I’m not going through with it.”

“Don’t be difficult. It’s already arranged. His name is Todoroki Shouto, and you are due to meet him next week, so I’d get those manners in check, miss.”

[Name] simply glared at them both and left the room, collapsing into her own bed after storming away.

Fumbling with her phone, she searched through her contacts before clicking on one of them.

“Hey fuzzy, you been too obsessed with those plants to talk to me?”

[Name] smiled weakly at the nickname, and sighed. “No... I’m afraid I’ve got bad news.”

“[Name] have you been crying? What’s going on?” “My parents.... have arranged a marriage for me. Crazy, right?”

She heard a yelp from the other end and frantic noises. “Wha- no! They can’t! Are they crazy?! You have a life! [Name] tell me you’re not going through with it?!”

She chuckled dryly.

“I wish it were that simple. I’m meeting the guy next week. I’m sorry sugar, I’ll try to figure something out but who knows when I’ll be able to talk to you again? I’m so sorry...”

“No, no, I’m sorry for getting mad. I’ll get you out of there somehow, even if it takes a year. You’ll be with me finally and there’ll be no forced feelings. Oh fuzzy, baby, darling, we’ll manage.”

They were not, in fact, managing as [Name] was currently face to face with her fiancé and his scary-looking father.

Now, [Name] had to admit he was decently good-looking, but nowhere near as perfect as her current partner, and he looked so dead inside. Like he would rather be anywhere else.

‘Feeling’s mutual buddy.’

“[Name]-san, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The towering man gave a small bow and motioned for [Name]’s parents to follow him.

“Now, we’ll be leaving you two here to get to know each other better. Goodbye, Shouto, [Name]-san.”

The tall redhead man accompanied [Name]’s own parents out of the room, and soon it was just [Name] and uh... Todoroki? She barely remembered his name. Great start.

[Name] sighed and immediately flopped on one of the cushions, pulling out her phone and setting down her bags so that she could talk to her significant other.

“I’m just saying, I hate this, you probably hate this, don’t you have better things you could be doing?” She asked, scrolling through her contacts.

“Not particularly.” Wow, dead conversation much?

“Ri-i-ight. Well then, I guess I’m off.”

He gave her a hint of a confused look and [Name] pointed to her phone. “I have a partner. I don’t wanna marry you, no offense so I’m just going to go outside and call them. Then I’m gonna find my parents, and-”

“-They didn’t tell you?” He interrupted.

“Heh?”

He frowned even more if that were possible. “You’re staying here. With me. Our parents decided it would be best, and they are all at your residence.”

[Name]’s phone clattered to the floor as she stood there, frozen.

“W-what?!”

“If you sit down, I can explain if you’d like.” He offered, though it sounded like a command more than anything.

“No, no, I thought my parents were assholes before, but--” She rambled, sitting down dejectedly on the cushion.

“Oh.” [Name] sighed. “What now?”

“Your phone, it’s...”

[Name] snatched her phone and gave an exasperated sigh. “Fuck. Can this get any better?”

She looked down at the phone, completely shattered from being dropped onto traditional wooden floors.

“Now how the hell am I supposed to contact anyone..? I don’t remember numbers...” She slumped forwards, pushing the phone to one side.

Todoroki’s eyes trailed over the forlorn girl, and he smiled a bit.

“We’ll get you a new one.” “You realise I can’t talk to my partner now? Oh my god just... just.... ugh, I don’t know!”

“You seem tense. We have a lovely garden if you’d like to calm down.” Thinking quickly, [Name] sighed and nodded.

“Sure, I guess. Thanks.”

It was a lovely garden, [Name] supposed, and as she stared at the Koi fish her mind calculated a plan.

“It is nice out here, I’ll admit...” She stood up, stretching a bit. Todoroki’s affection for the girl was growing every moment, so he was glad to hear it.

“Hey, what are those plants there?” She pointed to the flowers near the door.

“Hm? Oh, they’re an imported variant of rose. My mother was fond of them.” “I’ll bet, they’re really pretty.”

“Hey, [Name]-chan c’mere a second.” She turned and trotted closer to him, so close to being able to achieve her plan.

Wordlessly, he plucked a flower and brought it up to [Name]’s hair, intertwining it with the locks so that it framed her face.

“There. It suits you.” He smiled warmly, thankful that his mother had chosen [Name] for him.

“Thanks...” [Name] forced a warm smile. “You know, Todoroki-kun...” She leant in a little closer, a small smile across her lips.

“Hm?” “Everything here is so nice, are you sure it’s okay for me to just... be here?” “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know. Just thinking out loud. I’m sorry for being annoyed at you earlier, I was certain this would be another awful idea by my parents.” “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Thanks. Should we go inside? I want to see where I’ll be staying.” “Of course.”

“Wow. This sure is fancy.” “Mm, if you didn’t like it you could have picked another room, or even shared mine, but it seems you like this one?” “Yeah, it’s really nice. Hey would you do me a favour?”

“Do you want me to fetch your bags?” “Please?” [Name] batted her eyelashes and smiled as much as she could without vomiting.

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

For the rest of the evening, [Name] was not allowed to leave Todoroki’s side. It was torturous, the way he looked at her with such fondness seeing nothing wrong with the situation.

In the evening, [Name] feigned tiredness and requested to be left alone to sleep. In reality she was plotting her escape. “I’ll see you in the morning, Todoroki-kun. G’night.” “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” “Positive, now quit fussing. Good night.”

The moment he left the room, [Name] ran over to the window and opened it quietly, looking over to a nearby tree.

“Here, let me get out of this house.” She whispered, and the branched curled over to her. Hopping on, she sank down to the ground and began running.

Meanwhile, Todoroki had headed to his own room, when he saw one of [Name]’s bags on his floor.

He walked back over to her room and knocked, and walked in when he heard no answer.

“[Name]-chan you left this -- [Name]?!” He dropped the bags and sprinted to the window, where he saw [Name]‘s receding figure.

“[Name]!!” He yelled, and for a moment she stopped and turned.

“Sorry honey, but I’ve got a partner! I don’t want any part in this!”

She had barely ran another few feet when the ground underneath her was covered in ice, and she stumbled forwards.

Todoroki was upon her before she could even yell, yanking her up by the arm, a furious scowl on his face.

“What the hell are you doing? I thought... I thought you were happy with this arrangement?” “Obviously not! Let go of me!”

She struggled, but though the ice had now dissapeared she could not remove herself from his grip.

“This is happening- you cannot stop us from being together. Not after everything we went through to get you here.” He hissed as he dragged her back to the house.

“You’re staying. It’s not your decision to make, darling. I’ll make sure of that.”

haha this has been in my drafts for months. okay that’s enough of bnha yay obey me shit incoming love yall sorry this one took forever aha

#yandere bnha #bnhaxreader #yandere bnha x reader #shoto todoroki #yandere todoroki #this took so long #yandere #yandere mha #yandere x reader

194 notes · View notes

the-hate-keeps-me-warm · 3 years

Text

More than a memory

Sorry if this is formatted really horriblly I finished this up on mobile I hope you like this there’s about 2 paragraphs I cut of ruby nerding out

Once they got to Vacuo oscar was sorta unofficially a huntsman now laws are a lot looser here so he’s been saving quite a bit of money from going on missions after team rwby and Jaune came back it was weird they were only gone a month but so much had changed the merge was almost finished he could feel it every day he felt less like himself he didn’t even object when Theodore called him oz anymore he and ruby weren’t as close anymore whatever happened wherever they were changed her he got bits and pieces from Jaune and yang but the others kept quiet he knew that he’d be gone soon so he wanted to leave something for her kinda like proof that they ever met in the first place so he was now standing in a vacuan market at 12 am alone with a lot of lien on him this was probably a bad idea but at one point he heard ruby ramble about this gun shop that they were the best at what they do so he called made an appointment it just so happens they prefer to see let’s just say unofficial clients at night he knocked at the door it read “bikal bullets” it opened and an old owl faunas man opens it his large yellow eyes are piercing “hello mister pine headmaster theodore told me to expect you” oscar rubs his hands together “yes mister bikal he said to come late” mr Bikal leads him inside on the walls hang dozens of expensive weapons “so mr pine what are you looking for” oscar took the blue prints out of his bag and set them down on the drawing table “um im looking for something custom built its for a friend” mr bikal takes the blue prints and examines them “these are pretty impressive mr pine did you draft these yourself theses yourself” oscar nods “mostly i had a little help with the math part of it but the mechanical stuff i did myself” mr bikal nods “something like this will cost a good amount even with the discount you get for being school staff” oscar nods “do you have an estimate on the price and how long it'll take to make” mr bikal snaps his teeth “around 12000 lien and 2 weeks” oscar nods he had 140000 saved up but he did want to buy some more things for the others “alright i can uh i can afford that” mr bikal goes over to what looks like a drawing table and pins them up “i will start work immediately mr pine you make your payment on completion if you desire the school has credit with me the price includes 3 magazines and a case so that will also be custom made shall you pick it up or would you prefer its delivered” oscar stands uncomfortably as mr bikal starts measuring out pieces of fine metal “ill pick it up dont worry” mr bikal nods and says “alright mister pine your can go now its not a good look for a young man to be out so late especially so close to the red light district” oscars face gets red “yes of course” oscar leaves and walks back to the academy sneaking back into his dorm room was easy tho nora did pester him about where hed been he had left a note saying when he would be back for the next 2 weeks he kept a poker face nora helped him set up his bank account so the sudden spending of 12000 lien did give her pause so she decided to ask him about it

He was sitting on his bed reading some Treatise about some long-forgotten subject she knocked on the bedpost and he looks up “hey Nora did you need something” she sat at the end of his bed “hey what did you spend 12 thousand lien on” he hides his face “please don’t tell anyone it was on something for ruby” she smiles “ah young love I was worried that you wouldn’t make your move so what kind of thing sets you back 12 thousand it’s something big right” he nods his head “its a gun i-i had it commissioned for and it’s not really cause I’m trying to make a move or anything it’s more like a going away gift” Nora frowns and shakes his leg “where you going taking a vacation or something” he feels tears bite the edge of his eyes “Nora the merge it’s soon I know it won’t be long until I’m gone and I want you all to remember me but her especially I don’t want to be just a memory” he struggles to keep the tears at bay but nora pulls him into a hug tighter but somehow softer than her usual ones “hey you will never ever be just a memory you will always be you and even if your not you'll always be one of us we all love you so much” and then the damn breaks and he sobs into her shoulder “i don't wanna go away nora i want to live i wanna go to school see my aunt again” she rubs his back and says “i know sweetie you'll get to do all that ok i promise” he sniffles “nora i need you to do something for me if i do disappear ok i need you to go back to my aunt and tell her everything ok it can't be oz ok don't tell her how to find him it won't make sense i'll just hurt worse i dont want that for her” she nods “i won't ever have to do that ok but i promise” she holds him until he stops crying and they take a a a nap they always helped him calm down

Finally, after a long 2 weeks, he goes to pick it up when he goes inside Mr. Baikal shows him the box it’s a beautiful dark red mahogany wood he opens the case and looks at the pistol inside its silvered handle and barrel were beautiful he’s almost afraid to touch it the engravings were perfect exactly as he had drawn them if not better the moon and rose he had designed look perfect he takes it gently in his hands he looks down the sights the night sights glow a brilliant carmine red he looks at the magazine even it was of an amazing quality everything down to the smallest detail was exactly as he pictured it he sets it back into the case “thank you, mister, Bikal it's absolutely perfect” Mr. Bikal smiles and nods “I’m glad everything is to your satisfaction Mr pine if you find there is anything wrong with it or you want something changed everything I make comes with a lifetime warranty the paperwork is in the case as well as a certificate stating that I am in fact its builder” they shake hands and oscar takes it home in his bag he excitedly gets back to his dorm he sets it down still in his bag on his bed now all he have to do is give it to her

He sits on it for a few days but finally decides to just give it to her oz has his reservations about this but decided that oscar deserves this to maybe say goodbye in his own way

Ruby was going on walks around shade it’s something he noticed so he waited for her to go on one of those walks it was cool in vacuo at night the air was nice compared to the oppressive heat of the day she was meandering along the walkways he followed behind her a bit the case hung heavy in his bag even tho it wasn’t heavy at all after a while she sits at an old wooden bench overlooking the gardens he approaches and she perks up “oh hey oscar are you going somewhere” she says pointing to his bag he shakes his head “do you mind if I sit” she shakes her head “no go-ahead did you need to talk, something about Theodore?” he sits down on the other side of the bench gently setting his bag between them “no uh no I just uh I wanted to give you something” he opens his bag and takes the case out holding it out to her she takes it “it’s not my birthday is it this looks really nice you didn't have to do this” ruby says smiling “well i've been wanting to do something nice for you” oscar says rubbing the back of his neck she lifts the top and gasp gently lifting it from its case “oscar this is this is amazing” she drops the magazine and pulls the slide back making sure its clear and runs her hand along the engraving her symbol etched into the left side of the grip “oh thanks i uh actually designed it myself oz helped me with the math” she looks at him her eyes wide “oscar it took me 8 attempts to successfully design a functioning crescent rose gun design is really hard how long did you spend on this” oscar blushes “the idea kinda started in atlas i was gonna ask you to help me make one so i wouldn't have to rely on my cane but everything happen and when you were gone i kept messing with the idea and i kept thinking about you so i kinda ended up designing it for you more than me eventually do you like it” ruby scoffs “oscar do i like it i love it its probably the single greatest gift anyones ever given me” he smiles wide “really that makes me really happy I was worried you wouldn’t like it” she sets it back gently into its case “really Oscar it’s amazing you have a knack for design your gonna have to show me the draft notes and everything cause this is this is amazing I can’t wait to shoot it this is wow” she chokes up and he leans down “ruby are you ok” she nods wiping her face of nonexistent tears “no worries this is just really cool and sweet and god your so amazing” he felt his heart flutter and his cheeks heat up “the guy who built it that bikal guy you talked about was just as great as you always said” she puts a hand on his shoulder “are you telling me Hephaestus bikal made this Oscar” she says seriously “uh yeah why is that bad” she kisses his cheek and squeals “oh my god your amazing this is now even better god I could die happy wait his rates are insane how did you afford this” still recoiling from the kiss he bites his lip “uh huntsmen work” she narrows her eyes “how much did this cost Oscar it had to be expensive” he shakes his head “not telling it’s a gift you don’t need to worry about it just enjoy it” she punches his arm “I will but I am going to repay you for this somehow ok” “you already did” he says quietly he says rubbing the back of his neck “ruby I don’t really know how long I have left and I would like to spend at least some of it with you I understand if you don’t I know it might make it harder when I’m gone bu-whoa” he’s pulled into a hug she pulls his head into her shoulder and holds him tight “I wanna spend more time with you too but you will always be Oscar ok oz is oz you are you” he sighs and smiles “see what I mean by paying me back”

#rwby #rose garden #rosegarden #ruby rose #guns #Oscar pine #angst #this is sadder than I wanted it to be #at first this was gonna be sorta related to my weed garden fic #but the idea of ruby pushing Oscar away after that was too sad #for my fluffy little ass #I wish ruby got to nerd out about weapons more #Oscar is still a simp even if he’s sad #do not ask me about the gun I will elaborate #that is a threat

9 notes · View notes

chilling-seavey · 4 years

Text

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter One

A/N Hey there, ladies and gents! It’s time to be swept away into an alternate universe where 1950s LA is the place to be. This is my first ever soulmate au and it took a lot of planning to make everything fit just right so I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: It’s 1958 and summer has just begun, sending the teenagers of Los Angeles into warm weather freedoms and part time jobs. Eighteen-year-old Daniel finds himself spending his days trying to find his soulmate and he refuses to give up until he has her.

Los Angeles in 1958 was a thriving city of luxury and fame; housing many of the greats and certainly more to come in upscale Beverly Hills mansions with top dollar views. They lived in their own worlds in the coastal city; unbothered by the working class with 9-5 jobs and single-family bungalows in the suburbs. To the everyday person, life in Los Angeles was more than nice with the beach on one side, the mountains on the other, and enough cultural entertainment to hardly ever be bored. People were happy you could argue and, in a sense that was true. Happy that they were able to settle down in that warm American Dream with the one they were destined to be with. Their soulmate.

This wasn’t a world full of lonesome heartbreak – unless one would choose to live that way – as everyone was assigned someone that they were meant to be with. By their eighteenth birthday, strange habits started to arise where you could taste whatever your soulmate was eating at any given time. It started faintly the day of your eighteenth birthday, as just a light sensation on your tongue, sort of like what it feels like to have a craving for a specific type of food. As weeks progressed it became more pronounced until after a month or so you could taste nearly exactly what they were eating as if you were eating it yourself.

It was something to get used to at first, but it was reality, and everyone went about their day to day lives with this invisible connection to the one they were destined to be with. Some people never found their soulmate – after all, the world had a population of almost three billion, so the odds weren’t always on your side – but eighteen-year-old Daniel refused to let that be his fate.

The second the clock hit midnight on April 2nd, 1958, Daniel shut his eyes really tightly in his bed and swirled his tongue around his mouth to try and taste something. You see, he was in love with the idea of love for as long as he could remember, and he had been counting down the days until he turned eighteen since he was old enough to know what numbers were. His parents had that perfect love story; high school sweethearts in 1935 where his father knew she was the one from the first week he turned eighteen, married and expecting their first child by 1936 and had three boys with a baby girl on the way before his father was drafted into the war in 1942. His father returned home in 1945 just as in love with his mother than ever before and the rest was history. Daniel wanted a story just like his parents; one where it all just fell into place.

The two-and-a-half months from the day Daniel turned eighteen to his high school graduation gave him absolutely no clue as to who his soulmate was. He tried scrounging the cafeteria at lunch time to see if any of the girls were eating that turkey sandwich he could taste or drinking that cold bottle of Coca-Cola, but he was met with no luck again and again. His soulmate seemed to eat something different everyday for each meal, but he soon came to realize that the only consistent thing was strawberry milkshakes. Usually around the time Daniel got off the school bus at home he’d lick his lips with the sweet flavour of strawberry and whipped cream that was rolling its way along his tongue.

He was just glad it wasn’t chocolate. He hated chocolate.

On the first real day of summer vacation, after graduation and their final high school dance, Daniel was staring out his bedroom window towards the street, impatiently waiting to see his older brother’s shiny red Thunderbird turning onto their street. Sure enough, he got a glimpse of the shiny red sports car in the distance and with an excited gasp, Daniel took off for the stairs.

“Christian’s home!” he shouted through the house, hopping the last three stairs and whipped open the front door just as the car pulled into the driveway.

He jumped off the porch as his parents came out of the house behind him and Daniel rushed to set his hands on the pretty red hood of the car that was still warm from the long drive from upstate.

The tired nineteen-year-old stepped out from the driver’s side and pulled off his sunglasses to offer a dimpled smile to his family, “Hey, you guys. What’s shaking?”

“Christian! How was college?” Daniel asked with a grin.

“Just swell, little brother. Why don’t you come help me bring my things upstairs? I have something for you.”

Daniel absolutely idolized his older brother, so he didn’t need to be asked twice to carry his things. As Christian headed for the porch to greet his mother with a kiss to her cheek and his father with a handshake, Daniel opened the trunk of the car to unload the bags. Out of the four Seavey children, Christian and Daniel were closest in age; Christian was only four months old when their parents fell pregnant with Daniel; leaving the two boys at only thirteen months apart. This made them very close and they shared a bedroom up until their oldest brother Tyler moved out for college a few years before. It was safe to say that when Christian was next to leave for school, Daniel had a hard time adjusting to life in the house without him.

But he was finally back, dressed in his usual slicked back dark brown hair and finished with a leather jacket. Leather was never usually Christian’s choice and Daniel let his eyes linger on the back of his brother’s jacket as he helped him carry his things upstairs to his room.

Christian stopped in the doorway to the left at the top of the stairs, poking his head into the light pink painted room, “Hey, ankle biter, I’m back. Did ya miss me?”

Their younger sister, Anna - a moody force to be reckoned with at fifteen - glanced up from her magazine she was reading on her bed, her record player playing quietly from on top of her dresser, “Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

“Did you get that Elvis guy to marry you yet?”

“Oh, shut up, Chris.” Anna blushed, throwing one of her stuffed animals at him before getting up to slam the door in his face.

Christian glanced back at Daniel with a small smile before heading into the room adjacent to toss his bag on his bed. Daniel set his suitcase by his closet and leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“What’s with the new getup?” Daniel finally asked.

“Oh, this old thing?” Christian grinned, pulling at the hem of his leather jacket. “A buddy in the dorms threw this little bash back in the fall and there were all these swell guys there talking about this new fashion tread. Said it was what everyone’s doing now. I think it looks pretty good, don’t you?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” Christian scoffed. “Well something’s coming to you of this whole business too.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. The guys got me a job at the car shop upstate for the year, I made a bit of dough, fixed up some wheels, and I’m even transferred to another shop down here for the summer. But with the big bucks I made since the fall I can afford a new car.”

“That’s great, Chris.” Daniel said slowly, unsure of where his brother was going with that.

“So I want you to have my T-Bird.” Christian tossed over the keys.

Daniel tried to grab them in his shock but fumbled them and they fell to the carpet. He bent down quickly to pick them up, “Are you pulling my leg?”

“Nope. Car’s all yours. That or I’ll resell it but I know you’ve had your eye on it since I first got it.”

“Yeah! Oh, boy! Thank you!” Daniel grinned.

“Only thing I ask is that you tell me how your birthday went.” Christian smirked, flopping back onto his bed. He leaned back against the headboard with his hands tucked behind his head and his shoes resting up on his bag.

Daniel bit back a small smile, sitting gently at the end of his older brother’s bed, the car keys still in hand, “It was nice. Mom made me a cake. Vanilla, of course. And I had a few friends over to watch a movie on tv and we ordered a pizza.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Christian kicked him with the toe of his shoe lightly.

Daniel’s whole family knew about how excited he was to turn eighteen, solely for the purpose of finally being able to find his soulmate. The younger brother blushed lightly through a smile.

“I haven’t found her yet. But she likes strawberry milkshakes.”

“Strawberry? Well, thank God it’s not chocolate or you’d be miserable.” Christian chuckled. “Think she goes to your school?”

“I dunno. High school’s over anyway. But I want to try and find her this summer. She’s gotta be in the city, right?”

“It’s a big city, little bro.” Christian said.

“You’ll help me, right?”

“I gotta work.” Christian shrugged. “Besides, I gave up on that junk.”

“That junk? Finding your soulmate?” Daniel frowned over at him. He thought back to the late-night talks in their shared bedroom when they were nine and ten, sitting up facing each other on their adjacent twin size beds, talking about what it would be like to grow up and find their soulmates.

Christian hummed, sliding his tongue over his lips and in his mouth, an obvious unaware habit that meant his soulmate was eating something right then. Daniel wondered what he could taste.

Christian clicked his tongue and sat up with a deep inhale as if to pull himself out of his own thoughts, “Yeah, no use stressing yourself over it. Plenty of swell birds around to find, right?”

“I guess.” Daniel mumbled.

“I gotta unpack my things. Why don’t you take the car for a spin before dinner?” Christian suggested, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Sure.” Daniel stood up, glancing down at the keys in his hand. “Thanks again.”

Christian only sent him a dimpled grin and Daniel left his brother’s room without another word. He walked down the stairs and to the front door, calling over his shoulder to his parents that he would be back in a little bit before heading for the driveway. Daniel hopped over the door of the convertible and settled into the red leather seats with his hands falling gently against the steering wheel. He let a small smile come to his lips as the engine roared to life and the familiar taste of strawberry milkshakes grazed his tongue.

#daniel seavey #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we #christian seavey #why dont we music #wdw #why dont we fanfic #seavey #au #soulmate au #daniel seavey imagines #why dont we imagines #🍓

44 notes · View notes

tuancore · 3 years

Text

Lost You (Part 15) :

Starring- Jinyoung x reader

Genre- Angst

Summary- It's your choices and actions which made you miserable.

Jinyoung was growing impatient by the rate with which the meeting was proceeding, three hours in the meeting and he felt like he has already spent an year inside the conference hall. Hyunjin kept on mouthing incoherent things to him, trying his best to prevent Jinyoung from daydreaming in such an important meeting.

"I hope you liked the proposal, Mr. Park" The new business partner exclaimed happily, standing up from his seat, finally getting Jinyoung's undivided attention. Jinyoung nodded his head with a polite smile standing from his seat as well, "Mr. Jung, I'm really looking forward for our collaboration, thanks for your precious time".

"No worries Mr. Park, I'm glad that we are able to work together" He chuckled again with a genuine smile, "I'll let my secretary send you the drafts of the agreement, you can have a look at it and if you would like to make changes you're most welcome".

"Sure, thank you" Jinyoung spoke for the last time shaking hands with Mr. Jung, "Sir, I would like if you don't leave the meeting hall until I'm done escorting them" Hyunjin bowed politely before guiding Mr. Jung and his secretary the way out of the company. Few other employees who were also requested to attend the meeting left the hall after greeting Jinyoung.

With everyone out, Jinyoung immediately fished out his phone dialling BamBam's number. He ran his fingers through his luscious locks biting on his bottom lip impatiently. He wasn't able to concentrate properly in the meeting but he did take note of the main points, he was growing way too impatient to be beside you again, in these two months it's for the first time that he has left your side for so long almost three and a half hours.

"Why the hell isn't he picking up my calls?!" Jinyoung yelled tossing his phone on the leather chair, after BamBam failed to receive his calls.

Hyunjin entered into the room swiftly, standing in front of Jinyoung from the other side of the table, "Hyunjin, I have to go. Whatever the agreement will be just email them to me", Jinyoung expressed striding towards the door to leave.

"Ma'am is not in the hospital" Hyunjin stated slowly turning his head to face Jinyoung, who halted in his steps before he could even push the door open, "What do you mean by that?".

"Sir, ma'am is not in the hospital. Yugyeom hyung messaged me that Ma'am gained consciousness almost an hour ago and that they are taking her with them".

"S—She woke u—up?" Jinyoung's lips quivered with happiness, which he wasn't able to supress. He hugged Hyunjin tightly almost cutting his oxygen supply, "I—I understand but you're k—killing me—me...".

He broke the hug placing his hands on Hyunjin's shoulder, he reconfirmed "You sure, that they were not joking.....She really is......I mean she.....Oh god finally!". Hyunjin's heart warmed seeing Jinyoung so happy for the first time in these past months.

"I'm also very happy Sir".

"Why didn't you inform me earlier?"

"If I had informed you earlier then you would've surely left the meeting and rushed there, and you know this meeting was very important for us, for the company.....I'm sorry Sir", Hyunjin hung his head low in guilt for not informing him about you soon just because he was being thoughtful for the company and not for you who is Jinyoung's life.

"Yah!" Jinyoung called, shaking Hyunjin's shoulders, "There's nothing to be sad about, I'm so glad that you were always there beside me, always handled the official work whenever I failed to, I know these past months were hard for you as well. But not even once did you complain and I appreciate you heartily for that, Hyunjin-ah".

Smiling softly, Hyunjin nodded his head. Many of the employees of the Park Inc. wondered as to why Jinyoung tolerated Hyunjin when most of the times Hyunjin bossed Jinyoung around, but the thing which both of them hid very well was that Hyunjin was Jinyoung's cousin, he offered Hyunjin to work for him for the sake of work experience which Hyunjin gladly accepted.

He was afraid that people in the company would think that Hyunjin was trying to take advantage of being Jinyoung's brother, so he decided to not let anyone know that he was related to him instead he'll work as a normal employee along with others. Reluctantly Jinyoung accepted it, being such a young lad Hyunjin was super smart in every aspect of business administration, just like Jinyoung was. And within a small amount of Hyunjin became the most dedicated and hardworking employee of the company.

"Thank you hyung...." Hyunjin muttered softly, "So enough of this melodrama, we'll continue it later, I was starting to like it though", he teased Jinyoung for getting sentimental as he barely expresses his feelings to someone.

"Yeah.......sometimes it's good to cry and rejoice like people in daily soaps" Jinyoung added, both of them laughing heartily.

"Let's go and have Ma'am back in your arms now shall we?".

__________

"Will you both speak now?" You asked the two boys standing in front of you sternly, eyeing them in irritation. After the little confusing revelation of Youngjae being your bff, you started losing your temper growling at both of them for their stupid attempt to protect Youngjae and Jinyoung and have you to forgive them. Not knowing specifically what has to be done they brought you to their studio.

Crossing your legs on the only couch in their pretty decent studio, you sighed, "I have no idea what you both are trying to pull off.....but it's not enough to change my mind".

"Noona to be honest we are also as clueless as you", Yugyeom stated sitting on his swivel chair, "What do you mean?" You asked tilting your head.

"Can we know why you're so mad at Jinyoung and Youngjae?" BamBam cut in with a humble smile, "What did they both do? That you don't even want to hear their names".

"Did you both hit your head hard?" You blurted in disbelief, the two have been sticking around with you since the beginning of all the mess and now they are acting as if they don't remember a single thing. Unbelievable.

BamBam and Yugyeom both didn't want to force things on you seeing your still not very stable state, but your words were getting to their minds they have to know what's the reason behind your outburst, your anger for the other two.

Giving you a stoic face, they insisted for you to explain the thoughts going inside your head. With that you let everything out from the beginning to end, how Jinyoung alleged you of cheating on him with Jackson, how BamBam came to know about Jinyoung and Jisoo seeing eachother, how Youngjae was in love with you because of which he caused misunderstandings between you and Jinyoung. How your heart got broken by him because of which you lost your child and attempted suicide.

"But I'm alive any way" You grimaced rubbing your temples. BamBam and Yugyeom felt their souls leaving their bodies, their face got pale with cold sweats forming on their forehead.

"Th—That w—was.....What w—was t—that?" Yugyeom stammered wiping the little sweat beads from his head, "None of this has ever happened? Then what are you talking about?" BamBam spoke with widened eyes staring into your chocolate orbs.

"Please don't act as if you've forgotten everything! Their betrayal is not something to be forgotten within two months!"

It's not like they wanted to shout on you, but your stubbornness made it impossible to let the things run smoothly, they had to burst your bubble because whatever you were saying was nowhere close to normal and if extended it can cause harm in real as well.

"We haven't forgotten anything! You— Whatever you're saying has never happened, none of it is true. You said I was the one who told you about Jinyoung hyung cheating on you right? Then why the fuck don't I remember a single thing?!" BamBam snapped rising from his chair pacing back and forth in the room.

"What the fuck do you mean by you don't remember a thing?" You snarled at BamBam, "How can you forget everything so easily? Or you're sympathizing with Jinyoung and Youngjae?".

"I'm not sympathizing with anyone Noona! I'm fucking not!" He yelled back, "You said you committed suicide, but let me tell you, you didn't commit such a crime!".

"BamBam stop! I clearly remember that I slit open my wrist with a shard, wait let me show yo—", You pulled the sleeves of your shirt, to see your wrist but words got caught in your throat.

"What? Show us" BamBam added, crossing his arms to his chest, almost challenging you. You traced your wrist which was badly teared open by the shard, "How—How....c—come there's n—no mark?".

BamBam stood beside you taking your said hand in his, "You slit it open here?", He emphasized, "And there's clearly no mark, do you think it some sort of a joke that hurting yourself with a sharp piece of shard will leave no scar?".

"Okay, let's assume it didn't leave a scar but after stitching your wrist up will the stitch mark fade so soon?" BamBam proclaimed, "Two months are not enough, sometimes the scar remains for lifetime".

"And that's the proof that whatever you told us.......was something that never took place" Yugyeom concluded, nodding his head at you.

Thats true, even a knife cut would take months to heal then how come such a severe wound will heal this fast. Your skin seemed to be absolutely normal, same as that of your other hand, yanking your hand from BamBam's grip, you bellowed "But all I remember is dying and then all of a sudden I woke up to your face! Can it be some coincidence?".

"We don't know what it is, but all we know is that whatever you are saying is nothing but your own imagination, since nothing, not a single thing has ever happened in these past few months!" BamBam grunted, almost losing his calm.

Your mind was spinning like anything, every single moment is burnt in your memory, you can call out every single detail of whatever you've said to them. Then how come they both are trying to defy your not so old past. Everyone was aware of how much BamBam and Yugyeom are fond of joking and pranking but this time there was not a slightest hint of humour in their eyes or body language instead their faces were emotionless and voice was stern.

"What is happening?" You mumbled trying to soothe your pounding headache which suddenly caught upto you. Rotating your eyes across the room you eyes fell onto the desktop calendar.

Striding towards the table, you grabbed it, pair of eyes following your each and every move, "What month is it?" You asked.

"It's November".

Your gasped at the reply, "How can this be even possible?" You mumbled to yourself. When you committed suicide it was the month of November. Then how come it's still November.

"If I didn't commit suicide, then why was I admitted to the hospital?".

"Yes you were admitted to the hospital, but not because you had committed suicide but because you had a severe concussion", Yugyeom revealed, pointing at your head and that's when you realised a bandage was wrapped around your head the entire time which you failed to pay heed to.

"Two months ago, you had an accident in which a lorry ran into your car", BamBam professed looking at your wrapped head, "Your car was found upside down, your head smashed against the dashboard, it was a huge trauma for all of us".

"Noona we don't know what's going on with you, but trust us, none of it ever happened. We can never do injustice to you by saving them if they would have done such a terrible thing to you", Yugyeom expressed softly with a subtle smile, "And the truth is that Youngjae hyung is your bestfriend and Jinyoung hyung never cheated on you".

Youngjae is your bestfriend.

Jinyoung never cheated on you.

Pondering over his words, you forced your brain into recalling the events from the past, shutting your eyes close all you saw was a small glimpse of the time where you were grabbing coffee with Jackson teasing him bout Minyoung. Gripping on your scalps harshly, you groaned at the excruciating pain shooting through your brain.

Part 14 // Part 15

______________________________________

(A/N: I seriously have no idea what you guys are going to think about this chapter so just let me know, sorry for all the mess, probably the next part will be the last one.Anyways thank you so much to you all).

#got7 imagines #got7 jinyoung #got7 x reader #jinyoung imagines #got7 angst #got7 bambam #got7 jackson #got7 jaebeom #got7 mark #got7 youngjae #got7 yugyeom

23 notes · View notes

belovedrival · 3 years

Text

“It’s Jonas.”

It’s been almost six months but I did say I would talk about my experience, so here goes...

(It’s really long, I started this draft when Jonas was three months old)

I was told that I would be induced on March 10, a Wednesday. My due date was the 17th but baby had been measuring large for months so my doctor just wanted to go ahead with it. I agreed. We’d made it to 39 weeks and that was good. Plus, I felt huge and just...done with being pregnant.

I worked (from home) on the 10th. It felt sort of surreal, knowing that we’d be at the hospital at 5 pm that evening, but I knew I needed to work to keep my mind off what was coming. For a while, at least.

We’d started packing the hospital bags for weeks before. I’d left my suitcase open next to the bed and I’d throw things in there whenever I’d do laundry or think of something else I wanted to take. I sort of knew then that I was majorly overpacking (and in hindsight it’s laughable how much stuff I never wore/used) but at least we were prepared, right?

Yeah, about that...

Mister drove to the hospital. Since I was being induced, it wasn’t any frenetic, movie scene type, panicked dad experience. We just put our things in the car and drove there. On the way we talked about how strange it was, knowing that when we came home (God willing), there would be a baby in the car seat. Of course at that time we still didn’t know if our baby was a girl or boy.

(Mister told me later that he was almost certain baby was a boy. He said he’d heard too many nurses/medical personnel ‘slip’ while we were having ultrasounds and whatnot.)

People can choose to find out or not, but it puts a whole other dimension on the experience when you don’t know in advance. Just my two cents.

As we turned into the hospital parking lot, Mister told me to open the glove box. “There’s something for you in there,” he said. I opened it, trying to swallow the bowling ball that had lodged itself in my throat.

“Oh!” I said. “What I always wanted - an owner’s manual!”

When I’m nervous, I often joke.

There was a small white box next to the owner’s manual. In it was a necklace with an aquamarine pendant; one of the birthstones for March. Of course I cried.

We took an obligatory selfie before going inside the hospital. After getting checked in, we went to our room. I remember thinking that we’d only be in that room probably a day, and that 24 hours later, we’d be upstairs post delivery.

Ha. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

I was given a drug to start labor (not pitocin). I’ve always hated needles and so getting an IV was not part of my top 100,000 Things I Love to Do List. Thankfully, the nurse who put it in was really good, so I barely felt anything.

The one major memory of this whole experience (other than Jonas, of course) was how good the nurses were. I am forever grateful to them.

Other than the IV and monitors, Mister having to sleep on the sofa, and me laying on a hospital bed, we could almost trick ourselves into imagining we were staying at some sort of hotel. Almost. For a few hours, anyway.

Wednesday night into Thursday morning was okay. I was feeling persistent pain. It wasn’t terrible, just uncomfortable, and I knew that it was part of the process. I didn’t sleep great but I was able to get some rest.

Around six o’clock there was a shift change, and my nurse for the day came in. Liz had a kind of cheerleader vibe about her, very positive, and in some other circumstances I might’ve found her annoying. But I liked her.

My doctor came in a little after seven and broke my water. That experience was...weird. I mean, it was a new experience for me, so it’s hard to describe. Uh, water is wet, so it was wet? Honestly, the thing I remember the most is that there was some meconium after Doc broke my water, which worried me a little. Baby was doing fine and no one seemed super worried, so I set it aside. I DID think it meant I was guaranteed to have the baby that day. How wrong I was, and not for the first time...

They gave me pitocin after my water was broken. So my contractions increased. It felt more like strong period cramps to me. I should say at this point that I have a high pain tolerance. I don’t know what the same level of contractions would feel like to someone else. Sometimes I was only mildly aware that I was having them.

Probably one of the most annoying things about my entire experience Wednesday/Thursday/into Friday was not being allowed to eat anything. I had ice chips, and water, and Liz managed to get me some Jello. This was actually something of an issue, because I had gestational diabetes, so at first nobody wanted to give me anything except for sugar-free Jello. I did have some of that, but as the day wore on and there wasn’t much progress, Liz talked to somebody and got me some regular Jello. I would’ve preferred something else, but Jello was what I was allowed, so Jello I got.

I...don’t really like Jello. Seriously, like if it’s the only thing, I’ll eat it, but...yeah.

The hours ticked by. Progress was slow. At first I looked forward to Liz and the other nurses coming in and checking me, but by late afternoon, it was clear that things were slooooooow. The best part of Thursday was sometime in the afternoon Liz suggested bouncing on the ball. I was really happy to get out of bed and bounce for a while. After doing that, I decided it was time for the epidural.

I’d decided beforehand I wanted an epidural. As I said, I absolutely hate needles, but I also didn’t want my body to be so stressed that labor couldn’t progress. In the back of my mind, I also thought that if the situation changed, and a c-section became necessary, the epidural would already be in place.

After the epidural was put in, I started shaking on the edge of the bed, tears rolling down my face. Liz was still holding on to me, and Mister was there, and they both asked what was wrong. I couldn’t speak for a minute. It felt a little like I was five years old, still terrified of that darn needle, and all the tension I’d suppressed had to get out somehow.

“It’s okay,” Liz said, giving me a hug. Sometimes that’s all that’s needed. I was sorry to see her go when her shift ended. She said she was working again on Saturday and that she’d stop by to see us after the baby was born, to see what we were having. (She did stop by.)

This was a constant refrain from most of the nurses: upon first coming into the room, and looking at the white board that had my information and seeing next to “Baby” was written “Surprise!!” we inevitably got the question, “You don’t know what you’re having? That’s awesome!”

Getting the epidural made the pain diminish, but it also made things more complicated for me because I couldn’t move. Overnight, a tag team of nurses turned me one way and the other, and checked me.

(I should also mention that all of the staff at the hospital had already been vaccinated, and they all wore masks into the rooms. We did not have to wear masks in the room, but if we went outside it, they were required.)

By Thursday night, both Mister and I were feeling rather discouraged. All day Thursday we’d been told that baby would come “by the afternoon”, then “by the evening”, and then late Thursday, “by Friday morning”. Bear in mind that I’d been on an IV/ induced since roughly six pm on Wednesday.

Maybe this sounds laughable to people who’ve had 72 hour long labors, but I’d been mentally prepared for around 24 hours of labor. My twin sister had been induced with her first, and her labor had gone about that long. Around midnight on Thursday I was feeling pretty discouraged. Mister wasn’t angry but he said (when we were alone) that he felt like the staff had been overly optimistic. I just don’t think either of us had thought about the implications of me being induced without any sign of active labor. In hindsight, I was glad it was done then, but...yeah. Not being mentally prepared for that long of a labor was hard. I felt bad for everyone who was waiting on updates; it felt like literally nothing happened for about thirty hours. Like I think was dilated to five by Friday morning. And effaced? Practically nothing. My cervix wasn’t getting thinner at all.

Early Friday morning, a new nurse started her shift. My first impressions of Diana were...well, I thought, “she’s definitely not as friendly as Liz.” She was more brusque. As I hadn’t slept much Thursday night, and having been in the same situation for over a day, I didn’t care nearly as much about making friends. By that point I was tired - physically, mentally, emotionally.

But Diana was awesome. She got me turned onto my hands and knees, and had me start doing some vigorous exercises, to really move labor along. I was fine with doing whatever she said because I was REALLY ready to be done. So it felt a little like my cross country days in high school, at the finish of a difficult race. I was tired, I wasn’t sure how much I could do physically, but we had a GOAL and dammit, we were going to do everything to get there!

By late morning, even after the exercises, I was still dilated at a five. Hardly effaced at all. After checking me again, Diana left the room. The option of a c-section had been discussed, especially since it was over 24 hours since my water had been broken.

“I think I’m done,” I said to Mister. Even though I’d never really been 100% ‘I want a natural birth experience’, it felt a little like giving up. I started crying again. “I just don’t think this [natural labor] is going to work. I’m done.”

“If you’re done, that’s it,” Mister said. “Tell Diana you want a c-section.”

I have to say something here about Mister. Even though he kept saying he didn’t know what he was doing or how he should support me, he was AWESOME. He supported every decision, and listened to me talk about the different options. For as hard as labor was for me, I think he had a different hard time. All he could do was literally sit there and watch me go through pain and doubt and fear, and comfort me as best he could. He was a great comfort.

(This is why even if thoughtful partners don’t think they’re doing a good job at supporting laboring moms, they most likely are. Their presence is invaluable. For anyone who doesn’t have a supportive partner with them, or an absent one, my profound condolences.)

When Diana came back in, I told her I wanted a c-section. This was around 11 o’clock Friday morning, March 12th. “I agree,” she said right away, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ve done everything you possibly can to get this baby delivered naturally. I trust mom’s instincts on this.”

Her support meant so much. Really, when a veteran nurse says they trust your instinct, how can you not feel better about your decision?

She left to contact my doctor and several other people, and Mister let people know what was going on. At that point I was more relieved that soon it would be over. I wanted to see our baby.

Mister said later that he learned that hospitals have two speeds: 1) we’re in no rush; and 2) something is going to happen NOW. While my c-section wasn’t an emergency, once the decision was made, things did happen fast. Diana brought the anesthesiologist into the room so he could numb me up. As I already had the epidural, this didn’t take very long. After a few minutes of letting the medication work, Bryce asked if I could feel my toes.

“No,” I said. It was weird. I knew I shouldn’t feel them, but I couldn’t help saying, “I’m trying to wiggle them!”

“No, no, it’s good you can’t feel them,” both Bryce and Mister said. I was wheeled out of the labor room a few minutes after that (I was not sorry to leave it) and taken to the OR. Mister went with someone else to take our stuff to the recovery room.

I’ve been in operating rooms before. They aren’t places that make me want to stay there. Bright lights, metal everywhere, many thoughts of what could go wrong...although I will say that all the staff in the OR made me feel confident. I was glad to see my doctor.

I felt better once I was in the OR (the only time in my life I’ve ever felt that way) but it felt like a long time until Mister arrived in there. He’d gone with a member of staff as they took all our stuff to a recovery room, then been taken to the OR. Once he was in place, everything started.

Doctor M had asked me before Mister arrived if he wanted to ‘announce’ was the baby was. I told her that he most likely would, but to ask him. She did, and he said yes, he’d love to do that.

There was a blue sheet in front of me so I really couldn’t see anything that went on - which was PERFECTLY FINE with me.

Obviously, I was flat on my back, and everything below my chest was numb. The doctor and others asked me at various times if I felt anything, and I didn’t (other than tugging and pulling). At one point, I suddenly smelled the unmistakable scent of something burning. “What is that? That burning smell?” I asked, glancing above me (really, behind me) at Bryce, who stood there.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said.

Which immediately told me I didn’t want to know what it was.

Yeah, it was me burning, while the medical staff cauterized me, keeping me from bleeding to death.

(The fact that cesarean sections are major surgery, and regularly happen every day in the United States, is, frankly, a miracle. Everyone hears about the horror stories when something goes wrong, but considering the number of women who go through them without incident, we as a society completely take them for granted.)

As the tugging and pulling continued, and Doctor M said things like, “there’s the head”, the sense of anticipation increased. I’ve never felt anything like it before. Both Mister and I knew any moment we would meet our baby, and after waiting 39 weeks (and eight years before that), it was almost unbearable.

Doctor M said, “Here’s the baby!”

I heard a slight cry, and I looked up at Mister, who sat on my right, holding my hand. He looked down at me and said, “It’s Jonas.”

Even thinking about that moment now brings tears to my eyes. In knowing Mister almost eleven years, I’ve only seen him cry maybe five times. Including this year, on March 12th. We both were bawling, and laughing at the same time, as Jonas VERY loudly screamed his disapproval at being evicted from his warm, cozy space. At one point, Mister, laughing as he cried said, “One of the ---s (our last name) needs to stop crying in here!”

He has a rather husky cry, Jonas does. I loved his cry from the moment I first heard it (though I don’t actually like to hear him cry, if that makes any sense).

As I was sewn up, Mister moved his chair over to where our baby was, under a heat lamp. Then he brought Jonas over to me. My first thought was, he’s HUGE. My second thought was, he was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.

He weighed nine pounds, five ounces at birth, and had a fifteen inch head circumference. After I heard that, I knew a natural birth was never going to happen. He was born on Friday the 12th of March, at 1:14 pm. The digital clock on the wall said 13:14, which I thought was cool. And it made it a bit easier to remember the time :)

He had lots of dark hair, which I loved. My sister’s had bald babies, so it was nice to have a different-looking kid. Over the last few months, his hair almost entirely disappeared due to cradle cap, and is coming back in...blond. Genetics!

I can say now that it’s past, that I was more afraid during pregnancy than I could admit to anyone, even Mister. I have always been a worrier, and finally being pregnant after so many years, and being high risk due to my age (and my shunt, and the gestational diabetes...) I was in almost constant worry of something going wrong. First of miscarriage (no one needed to tell me of the statistics regarding older mothers), then of stillbirth, like the cord getting wrapped around baby’s neck, and death happening before delivery could happen. I have heard of at least two different stories of that happening to pregnant women in the ninth month - friends of friends of mine - and the fear of that, or something else equally catastrophic happening was, at times, almost crippling. I would’ve preferred to have never been pregnant at all rather than suffer a miscarriage or stillbirth.

Perhaps it sounds childish, but mentally I didn’t think I was strong enough to have the dream of motherhood dashed, when every day of pregnancy brought that dream closer. I was (and still am) too much of a realist to ignore the statistics; I couldn’t pretend I was 22 and have a blissfully ignorant uneventful pregnancy. To this day, even after giving birth to a healthy baby, one of the biggest things that will set me off is the assumption that way too many people have. “We’re planning on getting pregnant soon.” “Just have kids, you’ll understand.” “I can take you out and make one just like you.” [a redneck phrase I’ve heard being said to a misbehaving child]

Not many of us can “plan” on getting pregnant exactly when we want to - or even within a year’s time. Not all of us can “just have kids” - they’re not like going to the store and getting a gallon of milk. (I recognize the privilege of living in a society where going to the store and expecting fresh milk can also sound arrogant to those who don’t live in one.) ‘Take out’ a kid (even said in jest), and ‘make another one’? I MIGHT have another child in the next couple years. More likely, I won’t. Not all of us can just get pregnant at the drop of a hat. (That’s assuming the one wanting to get pregnant even has a male partner or sperm donor at the ready...some never find that person to have a child with. And adoption can be a great thing, but not everyone is cut out for it. Shaming infertile and childless people for not wanting to adopt is disgusting.)

I was open with my OB-GYN about my fears during pregnancy and she referred me to several resources, and monitored me for PPD. My best friend’s son died in March 2020, a year before Jonas was born (though Billy had severe disabilities which made his death a certain thing), and my sister had had a stillborn son in August 2019 (my nephew Christian). So Jonas being born healthy was a huge relief for me. I can’t really describe the relief, except to say that as much physical weight I gained during pregnancy, letting go of the weight of the worry was felt even more deeply than losing the pounds since his birth (and I’ve haven’t lost all of that).

I will probably always worry about *something*, when it comes to Jonas. He gave me a scare earlier this week, rolling off the couch before I could catch him. He’s fine...and the incident scared me more than it scared him. But every day since he was born is a reminder of the gift he is, and I hope I never lose sight of that, even on the frustrating days (and there have been those over the last almost six months, and there will be more to come).

If you ever wanted children, and are fortunate enough to have them, cherish them. Be grateful for them, even when they drive you up the wall. Even when you only want three minutes’ peace, and they won’t give it to you. Love them anyway. I try to.

#this was heavier than i thought it would be #don't get me wrong #i had a good experience overall #nurses are awesome #nurses #hospital #birth #birthday #march 12 #jonas #2021 #life #real life #family #me and mister #mister #he's great #pregnancy #parenthood

2 notes · View notes

simplybakugou · 4 years

Text

The Villain - Ch. 7: The Unsolicited Attack

A/N: Not even joking, I have like 20 things in my drafts because I have so many ideas to write about but I’m also too lazy and unmotivated to execute them omg. Also, because all of my classes are online now, that means I have literally 5 months of doing nothing so expect more updates because IM SO READY TO FINALLY FINISH THIS FIC. THE FACT THAT I STARTED THIS FIC AT THE END OF 2018 AND NOW ITS 2020 AND I STILL HAVEN’T FINISHED IT DJIFJEWBEHFOJEWVQOJ

Remember, if you want to be tagged in future chapters, comment below and I’ll add your username to the list!

Pairing: villain!bakugou Warnings: swearing Word Count: 3,703

LINKS TO NEW CHAPTERS

✐posted 04.10.2020✐

“Man, I really just bombed that exam,” Kaminari groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“It’s okay, Mina and Sero are probably going to join you in your failure,” you teased, earning yourself some glares from Sero and Mina. Kirishima laughed and you looked at him. “Don’t laugh too hard, Eijirou, you’re not that far ahead either!”

Kaminari, Sero, and Mina took their chances to make fun of Kirishima this time, the boys fooling around while Mina rolled her eyes. The sun was beginning to set as you and your friends waited outside of U.A. before walking back home.

“Where the hell is Katsuki?” You muttered.

Mina heard you over the sound of the boys arguing and put her arm on your shoulder. “Aw, look at you worrying about your boyfriend.”

She made kissy faces at you and you rolled your eyes, pushing her face away. “You know it’s not like that. He just seems down lately.”

Mina raised her brow. “Really? If I’m being honest, I haven’t really noticed. Then again, you’ve always been observant and see things I would never even think about noticing.”

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders as Kirishima waved at you and Mina. He showed you his phone, revealing messages between him and Bakugou. “Bakugou said that he’s going to see us tomorrow. Apparently he has to talk to a teacher about one of his assignments.”

“Alright, come on let’s go home,” Kaminari said as the group began walking away.

You stayed back. “I think I’m going to wait for him out here.”

“Are you sure? I can wait with you if you want,” Mina suggested.

You shook your head, smiling. “I just don’t want to leave him alone so I’m going to annoy him a little. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

The four of them waved good-bye to you as they walked away. You turned back around, leaning against the gates opening up to U.A. You had a feeling in your gut that was telling you to stay back and wait for Bakugou and low and behold, Bakugou came walking down the entrance. When he saw you, you could practically hear him groaning despite the amount of distance between the two of you.

As he came closer, you pointed your finger at him. “I knew it, you’re trying to avoid us!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes as he continued walking. You caught up to him, walking beside him. “Whatever. If you knew I was avoiding you shits, why’re you here?”

“‘Cause I’m worried about you,” you said truthfully.

Bakugou scoffed. “I’m not a kid, I don’t need you to fucking worry about me.”

“Just because you don’t need me to, doesn’t mean I’ll just stop.” You stood in front of him, causing him to stop walking. “You need to talk to someone about the Kamino incident.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened slightly before he gained his composure once more. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

This time it was your turn to roll your eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling upset about what happened. No one blames you or thinks you’re in the wrong.”

There was a long pause before the corners of Bakugou’s lips turned upwards into a small smile. He placed his hand onto your shoulder as he walked forward. You stood dazed and confused before being able to recollect yourself and catch up with him.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m walking you home. It’s only been a few weeks since what happened to your mom and I’m still going to follow you around to make sure you’re not gonna do anything stupid.”

***

The walk was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. Bakugou seemed to be deep in thought and you couldn’t help but study and observe Bakugou, attempting to decipher what was going on through his head. His hands were in his pockets and his lips were almost like they were permanently down turned. Once you got to your house, you could see your dad peeking through the window and sigh in relief once he saw you. Bakugou looked over there and looked back at you. “Your dad must’ve been worried about you. You need to take care of yourself for him.”

You sighed. “I know and I am taking care of myself now.”

Bakugou nodded, walking in the other direction to go to his own home. He lifted his hand to you to say goodbye. You stood in front of your driveway and called out to him. “Katsuki!”

Bakugou turned around and narrowed his brows at you. “For the last goddamn time, you’re the only one I know who calls me by my first name and I swear to god—“

You cut him off quickly, knowing he was going to continue rambling on. “I’m going to beat you.”

Bakugou was taken aback. “What?”

“I’m going to beat you and become the number one hero. I’m going to beat you, Midoriya, and Todoroki.” You paused. “You know what that means?”

“What?”

“It means that you’re still a hero to me. What happened in Kamino wasn’t your fault and that shouldn’t be a reason for you to want to stop pursuing your goal. You’re still the same hotheaded Bakugou Katsuki who is loud, driven, and the one who saved me a few weeks ago. You’re a hero, Katsuki.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened but he turned back around so you couldn’t see his expression. “Whatever. Go inside, your dad’s waiting.”

And after all this time, you always wonder what kind of expression he had on his face then.

***

Your eyes shot open and you sat up immediately in bed. You rubbed your eyes, groaning. It was a dream... But it also wasn’t. It genuinely happened and you can recall that day so easily despite how long ago it was.

The door in your room opened and Mina sighed in relief. “Thank god you’re awake, I thought I had to wake you up.”

She threw a few envelopes at you, indicating that it was some mail that you got. You went through them, most of them being bills. However, one of them was from a famous agency you had heard of. Many old heroes were signed under this agency and you immediately ripped open the seal. The letter was addressed specifically to you.

Dear (H/N),

I hope you’ve been well and that this urgent letter reaches you. I’m going to get straight to the point; I know that you’re the number one hero and that you deserve to be involved in every important villain issue there is.

But, I don’t want you to interfere in any issue related to Ground Zero unless we need your help.

The reason for this is that I’m afraid your personal connection to him will make you biased and refrain you from stopping him if the chance that you meet him ever comes again in the future.

I know you’re a strong hero, which is why you’re number one, but my agency will take care of him if needed.

I understand that this is maybe unfair and I may be intruding, but I’m doing what is best for the world and for you. I’m asking you to step back, not forcing you to.

I hope you can trust me to do this.

—Hawks

You sighed, shoving the letter in your pockets and getting up to get ready. Once you were done, you checked your phone to get a text from Natsuya to stop by his place. You went into the kitchen as Mina set a plate of breakfast for you.

“You look worn out,” Mina commented, sitting down in front of you.

“I just have a feeling something’s going on.” You sighed, eating the food Mina made you. “I’m stopping by Natsuya’s before going to the agency today.”

“Okay.” Mina narrowed her brows in confusion at you but didn’t bother to question you further. “You’ve been at Yamashita’s place more than you’ve been here. Are you sure there isn’t something else going on?”

Mina nudged your arm and you swatted at her. “Absolutely not. I just want to hang out with my boyfriend. Sue me.” You got up to put your plate away, grabbing your coat from the rack in the process.

“But you’re hanging out with him at his apartment. Where his bed is.”

“I’m not going there for his ‘bed.’” You rolled your eyes at your best friend, bending down to tie your shoelaces.

“Hm, then again you don’t need a bed, you can have sex pretty much anywh—“

“Okay, see you later, Mina!” You exclaimed, quickly leaving the apartment only to hear Mina’s snickers as you left.

***

You knocked on the door, patiently waiting for your boyfriend to answer. Once he did, Natsuya’s face broke out into a smile as he was genuinely happy to see his girlfriend.

“Hey, you,” he said, kissing your forehead as he opened the door wider to let you in.

You smiled, walking in and he closed the door. “Why’d you call me here?”

“What? A man can’t see his girlfriend or is that a crime?” Natsuya joked and you playfully rolled your eyes at him. “I just wanted to check up on you before you and I headed out for work. I have a feeling that everything is going to escalate from here, especially since the League hasn’t done anything and it’s been three weeks now.”

You plopped down onto his sofa, letting out a loud sigh. It was evident that something was bound to happen and lately, it felt as if you were just sitting back and waiting for something to happen. It didn’t sit well with you that you couldn’t really do anything during this time. But there wasn’t anything that you could do, for now at least.

“You’re right, which is why I’m glad you called me over. I need to show you something.” Natsuya sat down beside you as you pulled out the letter from Hawks from your pocket. You handed it over to him, allowing him to read it over briefly. “What do you think about it?”

“If you want my honest opinion, I’m happy you’re not involved with all of this anymore,” Natsuya said, earning a sigh from you. You knew how he would react but nevertheless you wanted to see for yourself what he would say. Natsuya chuckled at your expression. “Don’t give me that look. You get reckless when anything Ground Zero related is called and it’s because you’re biased. Otherwise, you’re a great hero. But I’m glad Hawks stepped in and is taking care of this.”

You groaned. “I know but I’m still worried. What if I can help but it’s too late or if someone gets hurt instead of me?”

Natsuya wrapped an arm around you, rubbing your shoulders. “Y/N, Hawks is an amazing hero. He was number two back when we were still in high school and he’s still strong. Have some more trust in him, I’m sure he’ll have everything under control.”

You nodded, knowing that he was right. You felt guilty for not being able to decide to deal with Bakugou by trying desperately to understand that he’s not a villain and by trying to reprimand him because of his villainous actions. Natsuya sighed, kissing your head. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. I know you want to help but you don’t have to save every single person in the whole world. You’re not the only hero here. There are so many heroes, your colleagues, who are here for you and will support you.”

You nodded once more, wrapping your arms around his torso. “I know. Thanks, Tsuya.”

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay here like this, we’ve still got to go to work.” He patted your back as he got up, extending his hand out for you. You took it and he pulled you up, the two of you leaving to go to your respective jobs.

***

“It’s finally over!” Jirou cheered loudly, raising her arms into the air.

You sighed, rubbing the sweat from your forehead. You were asked to patrol areas that were considered “critical areas” that were most likely going to be attacked by the League by the Hero Public Safety Commission, the center that is run my non-heroes and it is involved in investigating the most criminally dangerous cases. Jirou was also in the area so she decided to tag along and help you out, just in case there was a scenario in which the League actually did attack.

“Are you headed home?” You asked.

Jirou nodded, stretching her arms out. “Yeah, this has been one of the longest days of my life. I’ve never felt so worked up. The League really needs to be stopped.” You nodded in agreement.

The two of you made your way back to the Commission Center, having to send in reports of what you had seen and the areas that you patrolled. The two of you waved to passerby’s, especially to the children who were ecstatic to have run into two major pros. Your phone rang in your pocket, continuing to vibrate uncontrollably as you fished it out. It was from the police station.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” A female voice asked from the other line. “This is Tsubaki from the station. Yamashita’s really busy right now but he wanted to make sure to make me tell you that you need to get to the Commission Center immediately.”

You began to worry. “Yes, I’m on my way now. Did something happen?”

“It’s awful, please hurry. Bring as many people as you can, I don’t know how much is left of it.” Tsubaki hung up.

Jirou read your facial expression. “That doesn’t look good.”

“We have to get to the Commission Center now!” You exclaimed, shoving your phone back in your pocket. You began running towards the Center, Jirou following suit. “Something’s going on there, and we have to check it out. Call as many pros as you can, I’ll do the same.” Jirou wearily nodded, wanting to know what’s going on just as much as you want to.

Dear god please let everything be okay…

***

The bar was quieter than usual, only the bartender keeping Bakugou company. But he liked it that way, finding the crowds of people who usually come to be intrusive and bothersome. Thankfully there weren’t any women trying to hit on him like most nights as they try and become the girlfriend of the most wanted man alive.

“Man, you didn’t have to yell at everyone to leave like that. You know it’s bad for my business,” the bartender, Watari, complained.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, setting his glass down on the table. “Oh, please, I’ll pay you triple my fee if you quit your bitching.”

Watari laughed, being used to his number one customer’s prickly attitude after the years he’s spent with Bakugou. Watari was the only man Bakugou fully trusted, someone he turned to when he was asked to abandon his family, friends, and his old life. Watari was also the only one who’s aware of Bakugou’s true identity, understanding that he had to become a villain to help out the pros.

Watari studied Bakugou, the now grown man that he saw as his own son. He set down the glass he was wiping. “You know every time I look at you I keep seeing that hopeless kid that came to me all those years ago.”

Bakugou scoffed. “Tch, I wasn’t hopeless. And I didn’t come to you, you saw me and came to me.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve never seen a kid with such a defeated look in his eye.” Watari chuckled at the memory, running a hand threw his gray hair. “I know the pros are the good guys, and I do trust them. I’ll just never understand what they were thinking asking a child to give up his dreams and his friends and family to help them out.”

“It’s not like they fucking forced me, I agreed to it, you know.”

“I know but I can’t stop thinking about that look on your face. You had to say goodbye to your classmates, to your dream of becoming the number one hero. Hell, if you ask me, you basically handed your dream over to (H/N) without any fight at all! And don’t get me started on you having to abandon your parents, your mother was pissed when you just disappeared all of a sudden.”

Bakugou’s lips turned upward, staring down at his glass as he reminisced with Watari. “That old hag was ready to fucking kill me, calling radio stations and news channels to find me. Must of surprised her when three years later her only son ‘murdered’ the leader of the League to become the leader himself.”

Watari laughed, shaking his head as he recalled the numerous amount of times he saw Bakugou Mitsuki stampeding through the streets to find her son. “You think you’ll ever talk to her? Once you’re done being the bad guy and can go back to your normal life?”

Bakugou sighed, leaning back on the table and staring at the ceiling. “That’s the thing, Pops, I don’t think I can go back. Not to the old hag, to my friends, to being a hero. I haven’t heard from my folks in fucking years, but I don’t blame them since they don’t know the truth. The minute I accepted this job, I knew that I wouldn’t be treated as a kid pursuing heroism like I was before. I’ve been in this shit for over seven years now, no one’s gonna accept me with open arms like that.”

“You’re wrong.” Bakugou turned his head to face him, confused. Watari smiled. “(H/N) would accept you. She’s been accepting you for all these years and she hasn’t been quiet about it either. Also, don’t forget that you have me, kid.”

Bakugou smirked as Watari patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, it seems like you and that shitty girl are the only ones who believe in me.”

Bakugou turned his head back to the ceiling, closing his eyes and taking a breath in. He stills remembers being a broken down mess, agonizing over the decision he had made. Although he didn’t regret the decision he made, the initial reaction to being given the offer by Hawks was one that he could never forget. He was a high schooler, a teenager, a kid being asked to work with adults to help them out. He was a kid asked to become a double agent and he had to sacrifice everything for it, too. But he didn’t regret it. The minute he got abducted by the League during the Kamino incident, he knew he wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old U.A. student anymore. No matter how many times anyone told him otherwise, Bakugou couldn’t help but blame himself for the incident. And no matter how hard he tried to conceal how he was actually feeling, mostly everyone bought his act, believing that he was fine, believing that he was a tough kid that could put up with the aftermath of the incident.

That is, everyone except you. You saw straight through him and didn’t hesitate to call him out on his bullshit either.

As much as he had missed seeing his friends and his parents, he couldn’t describe the loneliness he felt when he realized he wouldn’t have the shitty girl who he saved from the rooftop of U.A. High nagging him everywhere he went. He couldn’t describe the feeling inside of him when he first saw your face after ten years those few weeks ago in that flower shop. He couldn’t describe the relief he felt when he heard you spew out your drunken yet supportive words for him. You always believed in him, you always cheered for him, and here you were ten years later continuing to believe in him.

Bakugou opened his eyes, shaking his head. It happened again; he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

His fingers subconsciously, like it was practice now, typed your name in the internet browser on his phone. He looked at the images that popped up with the search result. He internally wanted to puke at the picture of you beside your shitty police boyfriend on the day you were announced as the number one hero. What a fucking tool…

“Katsuki.” Watari broke Bakugou away from his thoughts. “Turn the volume up.”

Bakugou looked over to what he was looking at, getting concerned over the news reporter covering what was read as “BREAKING NEWS.” He turned the volume up.

“This is breaking news and I’m coming to you live from the Hero Public Safety Commission. As you can see, the building is completely burnt down, exploded from the inside. Police have been investigating all night, concluding that the explosions from the inside were not caused by notoriously wanted criminal, Ground Zero,” the woman on the screen said to the camera.

Bakugou stood up from his seat, his eyes widening. He had no idea what was going on. “What the fuck?”

“Officials have confirmed that the villain known as Kurogiri was involved in the attack. However, as he is a part of the League of Villains, he does not have a fire type quirk that would cause such an explosion. Officials have also confirmed that there was another figure involved in this atrocious attack, concluding that it was not villains Ground Zero or Dabi.

“To make matters even worse, the only pro hero that was able to get to the scene before all of this unfolded was Hawks. Kurogiri and the second individual involved managed to hurt Hawks so badly that he is currently critically injured and is in intensive care. Officials have confirmed that they do not know when or even if Hawks will be able to recover from this—“

Watari turned the television off, looking over at Bakugou who was absolutely furious over the events. Kurogiri had worked independently, taking orders from someone else, most likely the true leader of the League, and had hurt Bakugou’s actual boss. “Katsuki… Don’t do anything irrational.”

Bakugou grabbed his coat, slamming the bar door open. “I’m gonna kill that Warp Gate fucker.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tagging: @chims-kookies @bokunoheroes-stories @iamthe-leaf @simplysymphonic @mylittlesunshineblog @imyourliquor-youremypoison @sxperhuman @sunflowerchild27 @miraculouskatsuki @geesshoku @ghoularaki @katsukiwonu @mochirecipe @kotakingly @giornouh @tyongflight

#the villain #katsukibakugou #bakugo #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bnha bakugou #katsuki #kacchan #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #bnha katsuki #bnha imagines

163 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years

Text

Logan’s 25 Step Plan to Ask a Boy Out (Relabeled; Refiled Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters: Logan, Patton, my self insert again, oops Lia(OC)

Summary:

“No! Logan look,” she said. “He likes you and you like him. You don’t need a list or a plan or schematics for this. Just walk up to him and ask him out before you hesitate so much that he thinks you don’t like him anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Is that something that can happen.”

“Oh god, this is hopeless.”

How is Logan so good at, but simultaneously so bad at this?

This is a one-shot dealing with events set before my story Sometimes Labels Fail set a few months after The Things We Never Mentioned.

Notes: Superhero AU (doesn’t matter for this one... again), Logan being dumb but it the sweetest way possible.

This was supposed to come out later this week, but the mini fic I was writing to release today ended up... not being a mini fic. So, I shuffled around my release plans a bit and you get this now!

It was almost 3am and Logan was still in his office. He really should just go home. There was no way he and Lia were going to be able to solve this problem tonight. Lia wasn’t even looking at the problem on the chalkboard anymore, instead she had pressed the chalk against the board longways and was turning it slowly to make a fan shape on the board.

Logan took a drink of his room temperature coffee. “We could try integrating it.”

“No.”

“You’re probably right.” Logan tilted his head back and closed his eyes pretending to be deep in thought, but really he just let his brain drift. “Lia,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask your advice on something not related to math.”

“Fucking please do.”

“It’s about Patton.”

She didn’t even pause. “My advice is, ask him out.”

Logan paused and opened his eyes to look at her. “Er well… Yes.”

She suddenly looked more awake than she had in hours. “No really? Yes! It’s about time!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Your enthusiasm about my romantic interests is absurd… but useful in this specific case.”

She sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap like a particularly interested school child during story time. “Please continue.”

“I have decided that I would like to pursue a romantic relationship with Patton, and I am currently researching the best strategy to convince him of my adequacy as a prospective partner.”

“Research?” Lia asked. “Oh god, please tell me you didn’t made a list.”

“I am simply inquiring after your advice concerning rather you believe Patton would be more inclined to understand love language in poetry or flowers.”

“Logan you don’t need to prove your ‘adequacy’ or whatever. Just ask him out.”

“Certainly,” Logan said. “Flowers or poetry.”

“Logan you’re not listening,” Lia complained.

“I assure you I am. I’m even taking notes.” He turned the paper around for her to see.

“‘Lia does not seem to have an opinion on flowers or poetry. Seems to suggest a bold approach,’ Logan you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He sat back and flipped back a few pages in the notebook. “I have interviewed many people on the topic but seeing as you have actually met Patton in person, I thought your perspective would be useful despite the certain ridicule that would come from the question.”

“Logan please, please tell me you didn’t make a list.”

Logan didn’t reply. He had. He had made a list. He’d done more than just make a list. He’d created a whole new file designation specifically for Patton and Patton related things. He now had a light blue binder which contained the list as well as the drafts and research notes on matching light blue paper as well as a picture Patton had doodled on a napkin to give to him. What else was he supposed to do?

Over the past couple of months, he’d done research in the form of interviews as well as non-fiction and fiction reading, drafted the list, done more research, and edited the list. It still wasn’t good enough. He was missing something. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn’t figure it out. He was hoping Lia would be more helpful.

Clearly, he was mistaken as she just groaned. “Logan…”

“Never mind.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Is that something that can happen.”

“Oh god, this is hopeless.”

“I was unaware of the possibility of a time limit on this assignment.”

“That’s not. No. That’s not what I’m saying Logan. Please don’t freak out. This isn’t homework!”

“I’m not freaking out Lia,” he said calmly even though his mind was racing.

“Logan, I know that look,” Lia said, “that’s the Logan’s pretending he’s okay, but he’s actually about to go and break down in a closet look.”

Logan waved her off and gathered up his bag. “Thank you for your input; you have given me a lot to think about.”

“No, please stop thinking!”

“I must go.”

Logan had meant to finish editing his list the night before but had fallen asleep almost immediately after getting home from the office. He woke at around 10am with a sore neck. He looked at the list. He should switch task 7 and 8 he decided. He wrote out one more copy of the list with the edit and then stared at the list again. There were 25 list items the last one being to ask Patton on a date. It wasn’t perfect, but… perhaps it was good enough. He bit his lip. Some of the tasks would take more effort, but luckily Logan had already started working on preparations for the third step which was to express interests in things the subject found important. The first two steps were to express a desire to spend time with the subject and demonstrate an ability to notice the subject’s likes and dislikes. With the preparation he had done, he was certain he could get through the first three steps today.

Decided, he jumped to his feet. Patton often came to ‘The Hideout’ at around 11:30am for lunch on these days. If he moved fast, he might be able to catch him before-hand and ask him if he’d like to have lunch with him.

…

He should go take a shower and brush his teeth first.

After cleaning himself up and picking out one of his nicer casual outfits, he headed to the hospital. He wasn’t sure where to go, so he just headed to the admission area for the hospital emergency room. “Hello,” Logan said to the receptionist. “I was wondering if Patton Sanders has left for lunch yet.” The man behind the counter blinked at him. “He’s a surgeon here.”

“I know who he is,” he replied slowly. “I’ll um, go get someone to check.”

Logan nodded and stepped away from the counter. The receptionist walked away and then returned after a moment.

A few minutes later, Patton walked up to the reception desk from the other side looking rather confused. He spoke briefly to the receptionist who gestured to him. Patton turned, lighting up a bit when his eyes fell on him, though he still looked a bit confused. “Logan,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

Logan stepped back up to the reception desk. “I was wondering if you would like to have lunch. I know you usually go to ‘The Hideout’ and we end up eating together anyway, but you don’t always, and I wanted to intentionally make plans with you. It doesn’t have to be at ‘The Hideout’ either. Of course, only if you aren’t busy and you want to.”

“I do,” Patton said. “I do want to, uh, but,” he glanced behind himself back into the ER. “We’ve been pretty busy, and I don’t think I’ll be able to take a long enough lunch to go out. I was just going to grab a sandwich in the cafeteria.”

“That’s fine,” Logan said. “We can make plans for another day.”

Patton bit his lip. “You can join me in the cafeteria if you want,” he offered. “I’ll um, only have 15 minutes though and the food isn’t great.”

“15 minutes is fine,” Logan replied.

He smiled brightly at that. “Give me five minutes,” he requested.

“Of course,” Logan said. “I’ll just sit over there.” Patton dashed off. It was closer to 10 minutes, but Logan didn’t mind even when the receptionist kept giving him looks he couldn’t understand or when a few nurses stopped by to peer at him curiously from over the counter.

Patton was still wearing the doctor’s coat when he came back to the waiting room area. He smiled when he saw Logan and grabbed his arm to guide him to the elevator. The cafeteria was on the top floor of the hospital. Patton warned him off of getting the spaghetti and he ended up with a grilled cheese sandwich and soup while Patton just purchased a premade cold cut sandwich from one of the refrigerators.

The cafeteria was crowded at this time of day, but Patton directed him to a more secluded part of it. His eyes kept flashing at the clock, but he still smiled at Logan.

“It bought you a brownie,” Logan said pushing it at him. “I’m not sure of its quality compared to the ones at “The Hideout,” but I know it is your favorite dessert so hopefully it suffices.

He took the saran wrapped dessert with an almost startled expression. “Thank you,” he said and then looked back up at Logan. “It’s good to see you. I-I’ve had a stressful morning and was sad I wouldn’t be able to go out for lunch today. Thanks for being willing to eat down here with me.”

“I’m glad I decided to come today then. Thanks, are not necessary. I enjoy talking with you no matter the environment.”

A bit of a blush bloomed on Patton’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “What would you like to talk about then?” he asked.

“How about,” Logan began, “antibody diversity and histocompatibility systems.”

A strange look crossed Patton’s face. “Did... Logan did you look up my research papers?”

“I,” he didn’t know why he felt compelled to blush. “Yes, I did. You don’t have a background in mathematics or physics so I thought I would investigate your interests so we could have something to talk about. They were very well written.”

A pause. “You read my research papers.”

“Yes,” he said. “There was a lot of terminology I had to look up, but I believe I have enough of a working knowledge to hold a conversation.”

“You,” he stopped and looked at Logan with an intense but achingly tender expression that figuratively stole Logan’s breath. It lasted for a long moment and Logan felt trapped by his gaze in the best way possible. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” Logan replied breathlessly without even a thought. Patton gave him a dazzling smile and bit his lip, looking away slightly. Logan’s brain restarted once he wasn’t held captive by that strange look in Patton’s eye. Wait, wait, he’d had a plan! He’d just ruined the plan!

“So then,” Patton said somewhat bashful, “what would you want to do on the date.”

Logan scrambled to mentally scratch off 22 list items until he found the ideas he’d come up with for once he’d procured a date. It wasn’t an edited list yet, but at least it was something. He was glad he planned so far in advance. “Midtown park perhaps,” Logan suggested. “There is a small place that serves pasta and an ice cream shop nearby. We could have dinner and then walk through the park. You’ve mentioned that you enjoy ravioli and the restaurant I’m suggesting is well known for the dish according to three articles in two different newspapers in the last 18 months.”

Patton titled his head with a small smile. “You’ve put some thought into this haven’t you?” he asked.

“I…” Logan said, “tend to be a planner.”

Patton reached over to place his hand on Logan’s. “I’m glad,” he said. Logan turned his hand over so their fingers could lace together. They only had 7 minutes to eat once they remembered their food and it was quite bland, but Logan would surely never regret it.

Thanks for reading!

And with that, we are done with the prequel fics that had to come out before multi-chapter prequel! The fic Gaps in His Files will start releasing next week. It’s 14 chapters.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #sanders sides fic #relabeled; refiled #labeled universe #adriana writes

177 notes · View notes

farmhandler · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet

Rating: M

Pairing: Sendak/Shiro

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Sendak, Bottom!Shiro

CH: 8/?

WC: 5K~

Read on AO3 | Read the whole series

A/N: I did forget to post ch7 on here so go read that first!!! Enjoy ch8~

Hearing his voice after so long was tougher than Shiro would have imagined. It didn’t help that when Sendak picked up only two rings in, the first thing out of his mouth was “Shiro."

There was no hello, no question as to who was calling or what he might want. Just his name, breathed with reverence.

“Hi,” Shiro said, pausing after. He was still driving, so he had the road to focus on and keep himself from shooting his phone constant glances. “So, um, hey. It’s been a while.”

Sendak didn’t say anything, which boded well.

“I was wondering. I mean—I got the call from Ulaz. But that’s not why I’m calling,” he hastened to add. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel to help keep himself calm. “Though I wasn’t expecting that. You still find ways to surprise me sometimes.”

More silence. Shiro licked his lips.

“How are you doing? You haven’t had any issues since I saw you last?”

Immediately Shiro wanted to slap himself. I know you almost died, but how’s it going?

Still there was no response. He glanced at his phone, but he wasn’t muted.

Did Sendak not want to talk to him that much? His fingers went tight around his steering wheel. Shiro was starting to suspect that calling Sendak had been a mistake. If he was going to give him the silent treatment after they had agreed to a break, then maybe they weren’t ready to have this conversation.

He was about to say as much when he heard Sendak’s voice crackle to life from his speakers.

“I’m doing well,” Sendak said, in a tone Shiro wasn’t sure he’d ever heard. His voice sounded wet, like he was seconds from crying. “Are you…” There was a painfully long pause, and when Sendak continued, his voice broke. “Are you well?”

A wave of longing and grief slammed into Shiro so hard that his knuckles gripping the steering wheel went white. He swallowed a few times before answering.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Can we talk?”

“Yes,” Sendak replied with immediate understanding. There was no need to ask what Shiro meant. And this time, he sounded much more collected. “I would like that. I would—” he paused. Shiro prayed he wasn’t about to start crying because he didn’t think he could handle that, and he still needed to see to be able to drive. “I would like to see you.”

“We can do that.” Shiro hesitated, but couldn’t stop himself from adding, “I’d like to see you, too.” More than ever. “Where do you want to meet?” Tapping his fingertips against the wheel, Shiro considered his options. There weren’t many. He would prefer it to be private. “…My apartment?”

“I will take you out.” Shiro opened his mouth, but Sendak was still talking hurriedly, likely anticipating his response. “To a local eatery. It would be a neutral space. For both of us.”

Oddly touched by the consideration, Shiro blinked at the road slowly. His thoughtful tone was unexpected but not unwelcome.

“That sounds like a good idea. What time works for you? Assuming you’re working the same schedule, how about we meet at seven on Friday?”

Friday was still several days away which would give Shiro plenty of time to prepare.

“Friday it is, then.”

“Friday.” Shiro nodded to no one. He felt the sudden urge to keep the conversation going and keep Sendak on the phone. He wanted to say what was on his mind; he missed him, he loved him. But those weren’t the things he needed to say in that moment.

“See you then, Sendak,” Shiro said instead. It took all his willpower to hang up.

Shiro didn’t think he’d been this nervous to see Sendak since the first day they met.

He had changed his clothes four times—the first two because he felt he was trying too hard, and the last one because he thought maybe he looked like he wasn’t trying hard enough. He didn’t want Matt or anyone to know what he was doing in case it gave him second thoughts, so he was going at it alone.

This is ridiculous, he thought. He lifted a black turtleneck he was considering. Spring had not yet sprung, so he still had time to wear warmer clothing. But if they were going to sit inside, drinking hot drinks and eating hot food, he knew he might become uncomfortably warm. With their conversation looming overhead, he anticipated being sweaty enough.

Shiro ended up wearing one of his favorite leather jackets with a long-sleeved T-shirt underneath. Midway into the relationship Sendak had bought him an expensive, very nice leather jacket, but he didn’t want to wear anything Sendak had given him. They needed to be on equal, even ground for this conversation.

With his wallet, keys, and a manila folder in hand, Shiro went to their meeting spot early. It always seemed like Sendak had to tear himself away from his work, so he anticipated waiting a while.

Much to his surprise, half an hour early wasn’t early enough. When he walked into the pizza place and looked around, he spotted a familiar figure seated near the back.

Sendak sat in a booth by himself, casually scrolling through his pad. He didn’t see Shiro come in, but it wouldn’t be long until he smelled him, so Shiro took the opportunity to watch him and take in the sight he hadn’t seen in almost two months.

God, he had missed him. Two months was enough time to bend the longing into a fierce ache.

Sendak was wearing a sweater that somehow fit his frame perfectly. It was black, which came to no surprise, and the tufts of fur peeking out from the edges of the sweater were too adorable for words.

Keep it together, Shiro. You’re still supposed to be angry. At least a little.

While Shiro had been deliberating how to best approach (aside from the obvious), Sendak had spotted him. The moment his eyes locked onto Shiro he sat up straight, setting his pad down and staring at Shiro with an intensity that made his face begin to flush red.

He stood from the table just as Shiro waved and began walking over. Sendak’s eyes never left his.

“Hey, Sendak,” Shiro greeted once he was close enough. “It’s—it’s good to see you.”

His greeting fell somewhat flat. And upon closer inspection, it was clear that Sendak had not been taking care of himself properly. If this were their first meeting, Shiro wouldn’t have been able to tell. But they had been dating for months, and he knew what his fur looked like when it was kept up at the bare minimum. Brushed and shiny, but only on the surface.

There was no point in acknowledging what he saw though, so when Sendak repeated his sentiment he just nodded.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead so you would not need to wait,” Sendak added stiffly. His shoulders sagged a little at Shiro’s stare. “I thought it would be quicker. Should you wish to leave for any reason.”

It was a flaccid excuse, but Shiro didn’t call him out on it. He thought about how best to answer and decided on, “Thank you. You know I’ll eat just about anything as long as there aren’t any olives.”

“No olives,” Sendak agreed awkwardly.

While they spoke, his fingers were slowly curling and uncurling into fists. His eyes kept darting towards Shiro’s neckline. Standing there in a sweater and jeans (jeans! Shiro hadn’t seen him in jeans in ages) at a casual pizza joint, he couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I’m really glad you’re okay. And I really appreciate you meeting me here like this.”

Shiro had aimed for polite and congenial, but he couldn’t hide the aching notes in his voice. Sendak breathed out a sigh that was more like a groan.

“I have missed you,” Sendak said. He took an aborted step closer. “Our time apart has given me much to think about.”

“Yeah?” Shiro swallowed. “I missed you too. Let’s sit down and talk.”

They didn’t sit down. They stared at each other, standing in the middle of Emerald City Pizza late at night, seconds somehow stretching into eons.

Sendak stepped into his space and Shiro let him, barely resisting with a single hand pressed against his broad chest. Shiro ducked his head, and Sendak followed him, leaning in too close for comfort, his breath warm on Shiro’s cheek.

"You smell like... Ulaz,” he said lowly. He brushed his cheek softly over Shiro’s, nuzzling him in a gesture so familiar it made Shiro want to cry. One of his claws teased at the edge of Shiro’s shirt, like he was seconds from rectifying that little fact.

“I know,” Shiro replied, turning his head to meet his eyes. He didn’t let his gaze waver, making sure Sendak understood that even if he did, that was none of his business. “Let’s sit down. I have something to show you.”

Sendak released him and they sat down. Off kilter from the unexpected start, Shiro spent a few long moments adjusting the papers inside the manila folder to give himself a reminder of his goals and the main purpose of the meeting. Once he brought it into the light, Sendak stared at it cautiously. Even with his limited expression, Shiro could tell he was distrustful.

“I spent the last few days drafting these. I ended up needing a little help, but I think I got the job done.”

Shiro pulled out each page one by one and set them down between them. Sendak flipped them so he could read them one by one, the furrow in his brow deepening with each passing minute.

Shiro affected a pose of casual nonchalance, hands folded out in front of him. He had to remind himself not to clench them too tightly.

Sendak set down the paper he was holding. “I do not understand.”

“This is a contract,” Shiro said firmly. “Not exactly a conventional way to agree on things, but I thought given our circumstances, this would make sense.” Shiro picked up the first paper and pointed to the first paragraph. “I wanted it to be clear what the point of this was. Boundaries.”

“Boundaries?”

“I understand that things are different for you for a lot of reasons, and this way we can agree on things that work for both of us. No secrets.”

Sendak continued to stare at him, his confusion fading into a blank expression that Shiro couldn’t read. But that was okay. He had anticipated shock and potentially resistance.

“I didn’t mean for us to fill this out now. I just wanted to show you that I've been trying to take your needs into account even though I don’t…agree with them sometimes.” Shiro cleared his throat and sat back in his seat. “We can at least discuss it.”

For a few minutes, Sendak busied himself by glancing over the papers. He still hadn’t offered a proper response, but Shiro knew how to be patient. He waited, declining the waiter’s offer for more water, and eventually he was rewarded when Sendak addressed him.

“This is not how I expected this meeting to go. I had assumed that you had come to the logical conclusion that you—that I was unfit to be your mate.” He drew in air through his nose, and Shiro realized that the reason he had not raised his head was because Sendak’s emotions were currently overwhelming him.

Shiro looked at Sendak’s hand, halfway extended across the table, and thought about taking it. He thought about comforting him; telling him about all the thoughts he had been having, but he didn’t. Maybe later, but not now.

Shiro curled his fingers into a fist. This would be the second time he had seen Sendak cry.

“I thought about it,” he said gently once Sendak was able to collect himself. “You really hurt me, Sendak. I know you did it for the right reasons, but it still hurt.”

“I understand,” Sendak replied wetly. “I will do anything to make it up to you. Anything.”

“I know. You said that before,” Shiro said, somewhat teasingly. His hand moved without his permission, reaching across and brushing over Sendak’s claws.

Two months. Even longer if he counted the weeks he had been waiting for Sendak to get back with him during their Christmas blowup, before he found him bleeding out. Compared to the entirety of their lives, it wasn’t long stretch of time by any means, but the situation surrounding it made it feel so much longer.

Shiro curled his fingertips around Sendak’s, catching his eye when Sendak realized what he was doing.

Sendak’s hand was warm. And it had been so long.

The moment was broken when their waitress came back with their pizza. She looked between the two of them, them at the papers scattered along the table. “Pepperoni and sausage?” she said, awkwardly looking for a place to put it.

“Oh! Thank you, right here is fine.” Shiro shoved aside the contract papers haphazardly to make space. Sendak went even further and collected them in front of him in a neat pile, pressing his hand over them reverently.

“Thank you,” Sendak said to their waitress without looking at her. Shiro flashed her a smile.

Once she was gone, Shiro passed a plate to himself, then Sendak, and started divvying up the pizza.

“So, like I said,” he continued, as if the moment before had not happened. “I figured we’d go to a private space to work on this, but if there’s anything you want to talk about now, I think we should.”

“Then you are amenable,” Sendak said slowly. “To our continuation.”

Shiro immediately wanted to slap himself. He was getting so ahead of himself that he had failed to communicate clearly.

“I love you, Sendak,” Shiro said. He watched his one yellow eye widen. He had said it twice now, and each time Sendak looked just as surprised. “For better or for worse. You are the one I want to be with. You are my mate. I just…” He faltered, wondering if he was going too far too early. “I just want you to know that.”

As confident as he felt now, Shiro had to wade through an ocean of doubts to get to a point where he felt sure. And even then, there were no guarantees. But with this, he had hoped they could make it work.

At his declaration, Sendak let out a breath like what Shiro had said physically pained him.

“And you are the only one I desire. There is no one else.” Sendak squeezed his hands together on the table, claws buried into fur. “I cannot express how much I regret hurting you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

For a while, conversation moved to lighter topics. They talked about work, what they had been doing in their free time, and how much they both wanted it to stop snowing all the time. Sendak was more open about his work life, taking time to complain about coworkers and operations succeeding and failing. Because they were in public, he was still tightlipped, but Shiro could feel the difference.

It was a very refreshing change.

Together they finished off the pizza in record time, and then ended up ordering a dessert pie afterwards.

Shiro was happy to keep their contract on the backburner and focus on lighter conversation, but Sendak was the one to push the issue when it came up again.

“You don’t want to take some time to think about it?” Shiro asked.

“It is a brilliant solution. Had I not been so—“ there was the barest pause, and Shiro couldn’t tell what he meant by that, but based on the state of his fur and the lackluster shine on his prosthetic, he could consumed with grief.

“It is well-crafted,” Sendak finished quietly.

“Thanks.” Shiro tapped his fingers against the table. The waitress came back with their dessert, and Shiro set it between them. “Even if I wanted to work on this, I didn’t bring a pen.” He didn’t exactly relish asking the waitress for a pen to work on their relationship contract.

“I have a pen,” Sendak said, because of course he did. He brought out a shiny fountain pen from seemingly nowhere and after Shiro agreed with a shrug, he started working on the rules section.

“You can ignore the part about goals if you want to,” Shiro said, suddenly self-conscious now that his work was being scrutinized. “And you can suggest any changes. Nothing is final.”

Sendak nodded. He could already see him marking a few things to change here and there, and Shiro tried not to take it personally. Sendak had more experience with contractual obligations.

When he got to the rules section with Shiro’s initial suggested rules and additional blank spaces, he glanced up at him quicky before he began writing. Shiro kept eating his pie, forcing himself not to read what Sendak was carefully writing down.

When he finished, Shiro again had to exercise restraint as he pulled the papers back towards him.

“Let’s see what we’ve got,” he said lightly, even though his nerves were shot.

Upon scanning the document, it became immediately clear what was missing. “There’s nothing about surveillance on here.” In fact, there was nothing that Shiro had expected to be on there; save for allowance thrice weekly for Sendak to scent him.

Sendak blinked at him. “I had assumed that was entirely off the table given the circumstances.”

“It’s—I mean. It’s not that I want you to bug my apartment, but I just thought—” Shiro stopped and took a breath. “I don’t want you to pretend there are things that you don’t want,” he continued slowly. “Be completely honest with me about what you want. For now, pretend that anything goes.”

Shiro knew that this was a dangerous game to play, but it mattered more that they were on the same page.

Sendak visibly hesitated, then he snatched the papers back towards himself and began scribbling down hurriedly.

It was several more minutes and a slice of pie before Sendak slid them over to Shiro. He glanced over them, keeping his expectations reigned in.

“A spending requirement?” Shiro swallowed around a mouthful of food. “Why would I need a spending requirement?”

“You have yet the credit card that I gave you on more than trivial necessities. I had intended for you to fulfill your every desire at your leisure,” Sendak said, like it made sense. “This way you will not have to feign resistance.”

“Feign resistance? I’m—that’s n—”

He stopped himself. This wasn’t the time to get emotional; he had to remember that.

“I can see where you’re coming from.” Shiro’s face was burning. Thank god they weren’t near any other customers. “It’s definitely something to consider. So, what about item 6, GPS tracker? Are you asking to install an app on my phone or what?”

At the thought, his skin crawled.

“Whatever you wish. It is not…” Sendak shifted uncomfortably. “It is not intended to control you. You had asked for honesty, and this is among the precautions I would prefer to have to ensure your protection.”

“I appreciate that honesty.” Shiro tapped his fingers flat against the table. “Definitely…on the ‘to consider’ list.”

A week ago, Shiro would have lost it the over a list like this. Now, with their needs being laid out in the open, it felt less like a threat looming over his head and something that he could, for lack of a better word, control. He didn’t have to agree to anything Sendak was suggesting, and he wasn’t as freaked out as he thought he’d be.

“I have a few suggestions,” Shiro said. “But you’ve already given me a lot to think about. Plus, my hands are greasy; wouldn’t want to ruin the papers here.” He wiped said greasy hands with his napkin. Sendak raised a brow at his obvious attempt at avoiding the talk at hand, but thankfully he didn’t push. There were things Shiro wanted to say, but—not here. Here had just been a neutral zone to lay the groundwork. “How about you give me the night to think on all this and then we can reconvene privately to revise it?”

Sendak’s ears had been moving in several directions for a while now, an indication of his general mood, and when Shiro stood to use the bathroom they went flat, pinned to his head.

“You are leaving now?” he asked, painfully sincere.

“I just have to go to the bathroom,” Shiro assured him. He waited until Sendak relaxed before leaving.

In the bathroom, Shiro peed and then washed his hands, but hesitated in front of the sink mirror.

The night had not gone exactly as expected. This, he told himself, was a good thing. It was good that Sendak was enthusiastic. It was good that things could feel normal for a brief moment.

Am I doing the right thing? he wondered, staring into the mirror. Should I be approaching things differently? Is this happening too fast?

Is this what you want?

He glanced down the drain, then back up at the mirror.

The face staring back at him bore no hesitation.

With that, Shiro took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom.

After weaving his way through the restaurant back to their table, he found Sendak hunched over the papers again, head in his hand. Shiro frowned. He thought the short break would give him a few minutes of reprieve, but he instead Sendak looked frantic and uneasy, rifling through them like he was looking for something.

“You okay?” Shiro asked, moving to sit back down.

“I...” Sendak rose suddenly and faced Shiro. Once again, he was reminded that they were in the middle of a public restaurant, and he hoped Sendak remember that too. “I fear that my actions may be misinterpreted,” he said hurriedly. “I don’t want you to think that I am aiming to control you. I am not” he paused for breath, his large chest heaving for a few moments “I don’t want to hurt you. I only wish for your happiness.”

“…I know that,” Shiro replied. He pushed Sendak until he sat back down and then Shiro slid into his side of the booth. “I don’t think that you did everything on purpose just to hurt me. I’ve never thought that. I think…” He looked around at the other customers, a few who were glancing their way. As much as it was necessary, he didn’t want to talk about all the ways in which they were hurting here at this restaurant. “I think we need to save this particular conversation for later.” He spotted their waitress passing by and flagged her down for the check. "That okay?"

"I...suppose you are right. We cannot accomplish all in one night." Sendak huffed, lacing his fingers in front of him carefully. "Things need...time."

Disgruntled didn't even cover how put out Sendak sounded at the prospect of time.

"Exactly," Shiro agreed nonetheless. "Tonight was good. I think it's a great start to starting over. And next time I'll be more involved. Tonight I really just wanted to talk."

That was when the waitress approached with a pen and paper. “Is there anything else I can get for you?" she asked. At the shake of Shiro's head, she glanced between the two of them. "Just one check tonight?”

Shiro hesitated to answer immediately, staring at Sendak across from him.

“You know what? Just one check,” Shiro told her.

Sendak gazed at Shiro like he didn’t know what to make of him.

“I was going to have us split dinner,” Shiro began. “But I thought…” He licked his lips. “I think this is okay. I don’t mind letting you have this. This is the kind of thing that makes you happy, and that’s…that’s okay.”

“As I recall, you drew as much pleasure from our arrangement as I do.”

“It’s not the same though,” Shiro replied. He leaned his head on his fist, dragging his thumb along the edge of the table with his other hand. “I know you. You like to provide.”

Shiro’s voice edged on teasing, lowering into a register more flirtatious than he had intended.

Nothing changed about Sendak’s face visibly, but when the waitress came back with the check, Sendak took it from her without hesitation. His chest puffed while he filled out the total, and he exhaled deeply once he set it at the end of the table.

It was his black card. Completely unnecessary for the amount their meal has cost, but impossible to miss. Shiro’s eyes flicked to Sendak, then back to the card. He said nothing, but the air felt…charged.

This is bad. Hold it together.

“Shall we?” Shiro suggested once she returned with his card, his voice even.

The cool air that met Shiro outside was wonderfully chilly. The restaurant hadn’t been overly warm, but he was damp with sweat from their conversation.

He stood just outside the entrance and breathed it in for a few heavenly seconds before his body adjusted and it reminded him that it was actually cooler outside than was comfortable.

“You are driving?” Sendak inquired beside him. Shiro opened his eyes and glanced over at his car parked on the other side of the road. He nodded at it.

“Yeah, it’s not too close to my apartment. Though I’m sure you knew that.”

“I see,” Sendak said. It didn’t seem to bother him. It shouldn’t. He liked control, but he didn’t want to control his every move.

How much of it was true? How much could Shiro trust?

“I don’t want you to think ill of me,” Sendak added suddenly. Maybe his unease had been obvious. “If it is what you want, we do not have to continue.”

His fists clenched and then unclenched. It was obviously the last thing he wanted.

There was so much Shiro wanted to say, and so much he felt like he couldn’t. Sendak had made mistakes, and it would be wrong of Shiro to act like they didn’t matter, or that they didn’t change things.

“Can you believe it’s been two months?” Shiro wrapped his arms around himself and turned to face Sendak. “Feels like longer. And the last time we were together, we—” He had to press his lips together to stop himself. “Sendak, this may be weird to ask, but can I hug you?”

His response was immediate. Like he had been waiting for permission, Sendak stepped forward and swept him into a firm embrace. Shiro didn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms firmly around Sendak’s middle, burying his face in the warmth of Sendak’s sweater.

The ever familiar smell of his cologne overwhelmed him. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled Sendak as close as physically possible, wishing for a wild moment that they were alone and not out in public.

“I missed you so much,” Shiro choked out. “I was so mad at you. I still am sometimes, but I missed you. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

In response, Sendak squeezed harder. He nearly lifted Shiro off the ground in his fierce embrace, and after an eternity he loosened his grip so he could look Shiro in the face.

“Da hos del thenak,” Sendak said, evidently switching off his translator just to say it. Even without an explanation, without understanding a word, Shiro knew what he meant.

“The next time I see you, you’re going to tell me what that means. Okay?”

Sendak nodded against his forehead, close now, so close. Their breaths mingled in the air.

Shiro's resolve to keep it at a platonic hug rapidly crumbled as Sendak slipped an arm around the small of his back and cradled the side of his head with the other hand. He repeated the phrase again, and again, nuzzling the side of his face, inching perilously close to the length of Shiro's throat, and on the third repetition Shiro yanked him back into a kiss.

Sendak made a sound like he was in pain, and seconds later, as he opened Shiro’s mouth with his tongue, it transformed into a needy, warm groan. The hand around his waist pulled tight, his claws digging into Shiro’s hips. Shiro brought his hands up to frame Sendak’s face, a weak attempt to keep the kiss somewhat chaste, and Sendak took that as permission to back him up against the concrete wall beside the restaurant and deepen it.

He'd missed this. Sendak’s smell, his—his scent drove him wild. Shiro loved the way he smelled; the way his hands felt holding him tight; the way he kissed him like he wanted to devour him.

“Sendak,” Shiro gasped, sliding his hands down, over his massive pecs. Fuck. “Stop it. We’re not—“ another kiss, one Shiro couldn’t help but melt into “I’m not doing this with you.”

Sendak’s lips left his and Shiro felt their loss. Then Sendak’s teeth grazed his ear, while his hand rubbed along the crook of Shiro’s neck, spreading his scent where possible. Since it was clear his words weren't enough, Shiro raised his hand and slipped it over Sendak’s, curling it over the back of his palm and threading their fingers so he could tug at it.

“Sendak,” he urged.

“Two months,” Sendak breathed. He pressed his full weight into Shiro, breathing hard. “Dozens of cycles. You are right: I want to provide for you. I want to provide you with anything you could ever want. Nothing you desire is out of my reach. I ache for your presence alongside mine.”

Shiro swallowed his words. He was trying to remain strong, but Sendak was making that very hard.

“I—I have to leave.”

“You said I made you cry,” he added, sounding broken up by the fact. Truly, honestly, as if causing Shiro pain was no longer something he could bear. As if he really understood what he had done.

A couple walked out from the restaurant doors and passed by, hardly paying them any attention, but it was enough to encourage Shiro to turn his head away. Sendak planted a kiss along the side of his forehead, sending a sharp electric shudder down Shiro’s spine.

“Enough,” he said firmly, using every ounce of willpower to pull away. “I know you’re sorry. And you did make me cry. But we are not doing this. Get off me.”

He reluctantly withdrew, a sour look on his face. A frustrated Sendak was a thing to behold.

“...At least allow me to scent you.”

“No,” Shiro said. “No, what we just did wasn’t okay. It’s not going to happen again.” No matter how much he wanted it to. “Not until we figure this out.”

“How long?” Sendak asked. “How long until we can meet again?”

Humans place so much emphasis on time, Sendak had said once. Thinking about what he said earlier, Shiro wondered how much longer those two months may have felt for him.

“How about…Sunday. My place. That’s only two days from now.”

“I will arrive in the morning,” Sendak agreed. “I will need to work that afternoon and evening, but in the morning I am yours.”

“Okay.” Shiro looked at Sendak’s hand, remembering the patches of fur missing all over his body. They had grown back by now, but the memory would be forever etched into his brain. “Okay,” he said again. He reached out and brushed their fingers together. Sendak’s hand engulfed his and clutched it, as if to keep him tethered there to him.

“Be safe.” Shiro said. He squeezed his hand as best he could. “Take care of yourself.”

Sendak’s gaze went painfully soft. “I will.”

Shiro went back to his car, sparing Sendak a few glances before he slid inside. Sendak stayed where he was, watching him much like Ulaz had before he finally lifted his phone and began speaking, likely summoning his driver.

I wonder which one of them has been watching over me, he wondered. The thought had crossed his mind before. It made sense; there was no way in hell Sendak would meet him without some kind of assurance that he would be safe. He would have to ask Sendak once they met again.

He drove off, already thinking about his own rules he wanted to add to the contract.

#sugar baby shiro #sugar daddy sendak #shendak #vld #shiro #sendak #my fic #fic #ch8 #voltron fic

10 notes · View notes

kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Toes in the Sand

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: it be both fluffy and angsty. prepare for feels.

Summary: Dean was always talking about how he wanted to go to the beach with you, Sam, and Cas. But things don’t always go as planned.

A/n:This has been sitting in my drafts for ages and I finally finished it! I hope yall enjoy, and please tell me what you thought!

You never thought in a million years that you would actually make it. That you would get to have an actual vacation. For hunters, that wasn’t usually something that was in the books for them. . . But here you were, toes in the sand and sitting next to your favorite person in the whole world. It almost felt like a dream.

Dean let out a sigh, leaning back on his hands as he stretched his legs out, the heels of his feet digging into the slowly cooling sand. “This nice. I’m glad we decided to do this.”

“Agreed. Are Sam and Eileen still on that scenic hike?”

“Hell if I know.” Dean shrugged, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, soaking in the final rays of the setting sun.

The sky before you was painted a light apricot color, streaks of dusty pink mixing together to form a spectacular sunset as the blazing orange ball of fire began to sink below the palm trees to the west. Somewhere in the distance a band of katydids and crickets struck up a tune, the sound mixing perfectly with the gentle crash of waves hitting the beach. The water itself was a beautiful turquoise blue that put other shades to shame.

For the first time, in a very long time, everyone was relaxed. It was almost eerie in a way. You had gotten so used to the stress of hunting that the feeling was foreign. . . But you welcomed it greatly.

“We should probably start heading back.” You sighed, brushing the sand off your hands as you stood up.

The Winchester besides you let out a groan, grabbing onto the hand that you extended to him so you could pull him up, “Do we have to?”

Letting out a light laugh, you kept your fingers tangled with his, beginning your walk down the shore line, “Yes, we do. We promised we would meet back up with Sam and Eileen for dinner.”

“Right.”

A soft breeze rippled across your skin as you walked, making the loose fabric against you flutter slightly. The tropical printed shirt was about two sizes too big for you, but it worked as an excellent cover up, plus, it was almost an identical match to the one Dean was wearing. Though he would never admit it out loud, you knew he loved it.

“At some point, I’m gonna have to take you surfing.” You smiled, eyes shifting to watch the whitecaps on the horizon.

“You know how to surf?” Dean questioned, turning to look at you with a slightly shocked expression.

“Yeah, when I was younger and living with my aunt for a few months, she taught me. I got good at it pretty quick.” You shrugged, feeling your feet sink into the wet sand as the tide came in, soaking your ankles.

“Okay, but me on a board? That’s just a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Winchester.”

“Alright. Fine.” Dean smiled, leaning over to plant a soft kiss to your temple.

Up ahead, you watched as a group of sandpipers danced across the sand, their little legs taking them quickly towards the retreating tide. The small shorebirds undoubtedly going in search of food.

“Are you happy, Dean?” You spoke suddenly, tearing your eyes away from the birds to look up at him. When he locked eyes with you, you felt your breath catch in your throat. The usual dullness in his eyes was gone, once again filled with the vibrant green you had missed so much.

He smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he did, “Yeah, yeah I’m happy. Are you?” He breathed, giving your hand another squeeze.

You nodded, finding his smile to be infectious as he looked at you with that oh so familiar soft gaze. It felt like someone was waving sparklers inside your chest. You could feel the white hot stars jumping off of them.

He was happy.

You almost caught him off guard when you stopped in your tracks, moving to the latch your arms around him, pulling him into an earth shattering hug.

“Woah! What’s this for?” He wheezed, not hesitating to wind his arms around your waist, resting his chin in the crook of your neck.

“I just love you. That all.”my mumbled, breathing in the scent of the coconut body wash he had been using, “and I’m glad that you're happy.”

You allowed Dean to pull away after a moment, his jade irises locking onto you with what could only be described as full adoration, and then he was sealing his lips against your own. His arms stayed locked around your waist as he picked you up, spinning you around with a light laugh against your lips.

He seemed so much younger in that moment. Like he hadn’t just lived through a lifetime of pain and monsters. There was something almost childlike to it all.

“Y/n, don’t leave. Not yet. Not like this.” Dean spoke suddenly, setting you back down on the damp sand.

Drawing you eyebrows together, you tilted your head, looking up at him, “What are you talking about? I’m right here-“

And then the landscape flickered.

The apricot sky fizzled out, and the palm trees faded into nothing, drowning you in a starless night sky. The breeze suddenly much cooler. A clap of thunder overhead made you jolt, successfully drowning out the harsh crash of waves momentarily. There was a storm nearby. You could smell it in the air.

It was all so loud, and frightening and nothing like the paradise you were just living in.

You tried moving, but you were suddenly stopped short by a pair of hands gripping your shoulders, “Y/n, I need you to stay still for me, okay?”

Dean.

Through blurred vision, you blinked, trying to take in your surroundings.

“What’s happening? Where are we?” You breathed.

And then you felt it. The pain rippling through your body in dense waves. Slowly, you raised a shaky hand to your abdomen, immediately regretting it when your finger grazed the deep gashes. You let out a sharp yell, head falling back onto the sand.

You were injured. Badly.

“It hurts. God, it hurts so much.” You breathed, unable to fight the pain coursing through your body.

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. Just stay with me.” Deans voice was heavy with panic as he looked down at you. The flannel he had used earlier to try and slow the bleeding was now completely stained crimson.

He should have been more alert. The werewolves had come almost out of nowhere, completely catching you guys off guard.

This was all his fault.

You flinched at the sudden contact of a calloused set of hands cradling your face, Deans silhouette hung over you, his face drawn up in worry.

“Y/n, I need you to stay awake okay? I need you to stay awake for me.”

“Where are we?”

“Ludington, remember? We were hunting a couple of werewolves.” His voice shaky as he tried to explain it to you.

And then it all came flooding back to you, and suddenly you were drowning in memories. You were never on vacation. You, Sam and Dean had gone to work a werewolf case up in north western Michigan. You eventually ended up chasing a couple of them down the beach.

You remembered passing by an empty boardwalk, and an old playground partially lit up by yellow tinted street lamps. There was a slide. The kind that was made of metal and was a nightmare on stilts during the summer. The kind that you looked at and knew that if you slid down it, your shorts and skin would undoubtedly catch fire.

You don’t know why you latched on to that recent memory, but you did.

And then you realized what had happened after that. They were stronger than you had predicted. The claws sharper than you remembered. And the pain worse than ever.

The gashes on your stomach. That’s what they were from. A werewolf.

“Y/n, dammit! I need you to listen to me!” Deans voice cracked again as he lightly slapped your face, pulling your attention towards him.

“Sam. Where is Sam? Is he okay?” You muttered, feeling your body slowly begin to relax. This wasn’t good.

“He went to go get the car. Your losing a lot of blood, y/n. I need you to stay awake.” He demanded, desperately trying to hide the fear in his tone. Even through the darkness and your slowly blurring vision, you could see the panic in his eyes.

“You were so happy.” Your breath coming out shallow as you spoke, mind going back to the paradise you had been residing in.

“What?”

You took a shallow breath, wincing as another wave of pain shot up your body. God, you were tired. You were so tired. And cold. Very, very cold.

“On the beach. You kept holding my hand.” You sighed, your body growing heavier by the minute.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re always talking about how you want to go on a vacation. Somewhere tropical. . .I dreamt about it.” You swallowed slowly, feeling the first tears race down the side of your face to collect on the damp sand. “We were wearing matching Hawaiian shirts. We were happy.”

Dean had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking down in sobs. You were losing so much blood, and he had no clue how long it would be until Sam got here. One of his hands fell from your face, reaching for your hand. The color was beginning to drain out of your features and you had a dazed, yet sad look in your eyes. You were fading quickly, he could feel it in his bones.

He needed to keep you talking, keep you awake. “Tell me more about it.” He breathed, squeezing your hand, which you returned, except with only a quarter of the force.

“Sandpipers. They kept strutting across the sand. You found them amusing. I thought it was adorable.” You smiled weakly, eyelids growing heavy as you looked up at him.

“Sound about right.” He chuckled, his own eyes darting down to the deep gashes torn into your stomach.

With each passing second, he was getting closer and closer to losing you.

“Maybe when I’m better, we can go.” You mumbled. You couldn’t feel the pain anymore. You were just numb now. It almost felt like you were drifting in the waves that were just out of reach from where you lay.

“Yeah, yeah let’s do that. You, me, Sam and Cas. Eileen too. A proper vacation.” Dean nodded, feeling his own tears leave his cheeks to collect on yours. His thumb moving to stroke them away and his breathing quickened, “Toes in the sand, how bout that?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but instead you were taken over by a small fit of coughs, the taste of copper flooding your mouth. You were burning at the very end of your wick now. You weren’t going to make it. But at least you didn’t hurt anymore.

Dean had never known fear like this before as he looked down at you, lips painted crimson as you continued to cough up blood. As gently as he could, he shifted from his position, wrapping his arms underneath you so he could partially pull you into his lap, your head resting in the crook of his elbow.

“It’s okay. I got you. I’m right here.” He swallowed, trying not to let his voice crack as he looked down at you. He needed you to know that you weren’t alone. That he was still with you.

His heart was breaking off in pieces though, as he kept his gaze on you. There was nothing he could do to help you here. He had no clue how long it would be until Sam got here.

Mustering what strength you had left in you, you raised a shaky hand, resting you palm against his cheek, his big green eyes full of pain as he looked down at you.

“Toes in the sand.” You smiled weakly, using the pad of your thumb to wipe away the tears trailing down his cheek.

You took another shallow breath, the air coming out shaky, and your hand slid from his face, and the last bits of his heart that had been breaking shattered.

“No,no,no y/n stay with me! I need you to stay with me!” He breathed, panic seeping into his bones as he went into begging mode, slightly shaking you in his arms. “Just for a little longer, please.” His voice cracked.

But deep down, he knew it was too late. Your breathing had stilled, mouth still partially open as your eyes glazed over, the light in them flickering out.

Dean tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he shook his head in defeat, his forehead coming to rest against you own, “Don’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me.”

It was ten minutes later that Sam found his brother in that same position, his arms locked around you as he held you against his chest, his lips pressed to your temple as his eyes remained shut, in fear that if he opened them the tears wouldn’t stop falling.

The younger Winchester let his feet carry him quickly across the sand, falling to his knees in front of him, “Dean, is she still ali-“

“No. She gone.” He sighed, moving once more to rest his head against yours.

Sam slid his hand into your limp one, squeezing it lightly he tried to fight back his own tears, “I’m sorry. I tried to get here as fast as possible.”

Dean slowly shook his head, his jaw clenching almost as if it were a shock absorber for his pain. You were supposed to live. You were supposed to be happy and full of life. Not an empty shell in his arms. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Slowly he opened his eyes, looking down at you. He had closed your lids, hoping it would make it look like you were sleeping. . . But it didn’t work. He brushed a stand of loose hair away from your face, fingers skimming over the cool skin.

“I’ll see you on the other side. Toes in the sand.”

The End.

SPN taglist:

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox @horrorstreet @imabtich4jensen

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader #dean x y/n #SPN #spn x reader #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #bi-danvers0 #bi-danvers writing

191 notes · View notes

etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

Text

One In A Million - Chpt.8

Summary: The three of you settle into your new lives together as the inevitable draft day draws near.

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! This chapter is super short and I’m sorry for that but I really couldn’t make it any longer if I’d tried. It’s a doozy though. Hang on to your hats darlings! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Eight

March is almost over when you finally find a place. It’s a cute little ground floor apartment over in Cobble Hill with big windows and a tiny patch of grass out back for a yard. Just right for the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. Steve dreams of sitting outside to paint and Bucky promises to grill your dinners all summer long. Your commute is longer now that you’re not in Brooklyn Heights but it’s manageable and you don’t mind since it means Bucky’s commute is shorter to the docks over in Red Hook. Steve gives up his job at the grocery store and takes a position at a nearby newspaper helping to draw copies of ads. The pay isn’t as good but he’s happier and between the three of you, you get by just fine.

April comes and you want to enjoy the warmer weather and settling into your lives together, but Bucky has less than a month left before he’s drafted and you’re heartsick at the thought. You try not to let it get you down, pouring yourself into the little garden patch you’ve started out back instead. You’re tending to your tiny pea vines when Steve gets home with a slam of your screen door.

You join him in the kitchen, worried when you see his glowering expression. “What’s wrong?”

Steve slaps his hand down on the counter top, frustrated. “I’m never gonna join the army.”

“Another 4F?” you guess, “You’re gonna break Bucky’s heart.”

“Worse.” he grits out, taking another long drink of water from his glass. “They caught me this time. Had all of my files spread out on the Captain’s desk. I could have been arrested, they told me as much. The guy was nice but he doesn’t get it, he can’t. He told me this was my only warning. If I get caught again they’ll lock me up. Said he couldn’t blame me for trying but I needed to accept things for what they were.”

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” you pull him into your arms, letting his anger burn off until the sadness pours from him like waves. You’re still holding him when Bucky comes in quietly behind you. You look up when you smell the familiar scent of saltwater that clings to him after a hard day’s work. He doesn’t ask, he just curls himself around Steve, holding on to comfort his partner.

“I won’t try again, Buck.” Steve says, finally breaking the silence. “I love you and Rose too much to risk getting locked up. I’m sorry.”

Bucky turns Steve around to face him, leaving you to rub his narrow shoulders. “Don’t you ever apologize for doing what you believe is right. That’s part of who you are, Stevie, and I love you. I’m glad you’re done trying but I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted.”

Steve nods and holds onto Bucky tightly for a minute.

“Why don’t you two go sit in the living room and I’ll run down the block to get us sandwiches for dinner?” you offer.

“It was my night to cook.” Bucky frowns.

“You have something more important to take care of tonight.” you shoot a meaningful glance at Steve and Bucky nods in agreement. “I’ll be back in a few.”

That night you and Bucky are extra attentive to Steve, helping him work through the sadness and loss he’s dealing with. He tries to brush it off but you know he’s hurting. Giving up is something Steve Rogers never learned how to do and you can’t imagine the toll this is taking on him. You quietly hope that this set back doesn’t prevent him from meeting Erskine when the time comes but you have to have faith that it’ll happen the way it should.

After a few weeks in your new place, Bucky invites his parents and sisters down for Easter. He claims it’s because you and Steve have your heart set on hosting the first holiday in your new home. It’s really because Bucky wants you to meet his family and to show off your new place. You and Winifred Barnes hit it off from the second she walks through your door. You wish you could tell her how much you love her son, what an amazing partner he is to you and Steve. You settle for the friendship version of your affections, just as he and Steve have been doing their whole lives. It’s harder than you expected but you try and focus on being a good host and loving wife to Steve. You only have to slip away once to cry quietly in the bathroom, heartbroken for your boys who can’t live their lives out in the open. It makes you want to say timelines be damned and snatch the pair of them back into the future with you.

The day of the draft is coming, quicker than any of you would like. Bucky had to re-register when you moved, putting his name back into the lottery you already know he’s going to win. He gets quieter in the days before the announcement, a little more withdrawn. He holds you and Steve tighter at night, tells you he loves you more frequently too. Steve worries by throwing himself into this art. He leaves sketches of you and Bucky all around the apartment for you to find and pack away in a hat box for safe keeping.

The whole world seems on edge the closer draft day comes. Everyone has someone to worry over it seems. You kiss Bucky just a little longer that morning before he leaves for work. “It’ll be okay no matter what.” you promise him. “We’ll get through it together.”

“At least I know you and Stevie have each other if I have to go.” he tells you quietly. Your heart aches knowing you won’t. Your jump point is shortly after when he’ll be reporting for basic. The three of you will be separated and all alone, the way history is meant for it to be.

You can barely sit still at work waiting for the announcement over the radio. You have Bucky’s number written on a scrap of paper in your pocket. The girls in your pool are all worried about their husbands/ boyfriends/ brothers, and you sit huddled together praying when President Roosevelt’s voice comes over the radio. You can’t breathe when he starts calling out numbers, waiting for Bucky’s to be pulled. It’s for the best, it needs to happen, it already has happened technically. And then it’s over. Clara two desks over is wailing, her brother’s number was called. You sit stone still, staring at the piece of paper in your hand that has a number that wasn’t called.

You convince yourself you wrote it down wrong and fake sick to get sent home early. You race across the bustling city to get to Bucky, needing to comfort him and prove to yourself you did write it down wrong. Because Bucky Barnes was drafted into the US Army. He became a sergeant and was deployed to Azzano where he was taken by HYDRA and given a version of the serum. The same serum that Steve Rogers is given by Dr. Erskine to become Captain America. The history lessons fly through your mind like mantras as you hurry to get to the docks.

Bucky is standing with a group of men when you find him, his face grim. Relief washes over you that the timeline is intact, followed by the ache that you’ll be losing him to a hard life that no one deserves. Bucky steps away from the group to pull you aside.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” you tell him, tears in your eyes.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“Your number… It was called. Right?”

“No, darlin’. I’m fine! You must’ve written it down wrong. I lucked out again.”

“But your face, you looked…”

“Tim got called, he’s a good man and a fine worker. I’m okay, Rose. I’m not going anywhere.”

You’re at a loss for words and Bucky just holds you close, assuming you’re relieved and happy. You want to be happy, you want to go home and celebrate with Steve that your little family gets to stay together. But the world feels like an unfamiliar place now. You look around taking in the sights you know by heart but no longer connect with. It’s a strange new time you’re living in now. A world where Bucky Barnes doesn’t go off to war. Where he doesn’t get captured and almost die. Where he isn’t brainwashed and tortured for seventy years. Possibly where Captain America never exists.

Oh god, what have you done.

Tag list! @wolfarrowepz

#one in a million #steve rogers #bucky barnes #reader insert #preserum steve rogers #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #named reader #captain america #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #captain america fanfiction #time travel #1940s setting #marvel #marvel fanfic

33 notes · View notes

bessmarvins · 4 years

Text

So, you guys got a preview of this thanks to the challenge that @knockoutqueenoftheunderworld tagged me in. It’s been sitting in my drafts for months almost finished and I think it’s rambly and just ajgwjaoig i’ve been debating on whether or not to even post it but I don’t want to put anymore energy into it. I just want to throw it out into the void lol so here ya are: another chapter of my lil ficlet series (first installment here) ok thank you goodnight happy belated birthday @ladylindaaa

Nancy rubbed her eye, leaning over her case notes on the floor of Frank and Joe’s room in the sleeping car. She twirled a thin lock of her red hair around a long finger and titled her head, staring intently at the letter Lori had given her. She had to squint in the dim light of the bedside lamp, her slightly unkempt brows furrowed. She trailed her pencil across the paper, following every line, silently mouthing the letter word for word.

Frank noticed all of these things. He noticed everything about her. He noticed the pea-sized beauty mark next to her eye, he noticed the chipped maroon polish on her nails, he noticed the way her breath sped up and slowed back down again as she tried to decode the letter. He was trying so hard to stop noticing. He couldn’t help it. Something kept his eyes glued on her, from the moment they met at Union Station.

The truth was he had noticed her long before that. He had always had a crush on Nancy, not that he’d admit it to anyone. Especially not Joe, who caught on fast and teased him mercilessly for it. He was always eager to answer her calls, excited to talk through her cases with her. He loved hearing the awe in her voice when she figured out a clue and the gratefulness in it when he and Joe (somehow) managed to be of help to her.

She was so god damn smart. Frank could hear the gears turning in her mind over the phone. He was convinced she didn’t need him and Joe--she could have called anyone to use as a sounding board for her ideas and figured it out on her own. She usually chose to ask their opinions anyway, and Frank was more than happy to oblige.

But since they met for this case, it’s begun to feel less like just a crush. He and Nancy (and, admittedly, his brother) had formed a sort of bond. They quickly found their rhythm together working the case and Frank thoroughly enjoyed their dynamic. It was exhilarating: their first case with Nancy Drew on an old train chugging along through the Colorado desert.

Maybe being in such a dreamy atmosphere was clouding his mind. The romantic backstory of Jake and Camille certainly didn’t help. But the more time he spent exploring and investigating with Nancy, the more he gravitated toward her.

He was sure she had noticed him staring by now. He could usually keep his cool over the phone, but being here, in person with her, able to see her bright blue eyes, touch her soft arms and smell her perfume when they hugged at the train station...it was wearing him down.

They hadn’t seen each other in two years, their last encounter at Joe’s high school graduation party. He recalled their earlier meetings, in the midst of puberty, when his crush had first formed and he stumbled over his words in front of her. He felt like that 15 year old kid again, stuttering and mumbling around her, begging Joe not to embarrass them. Not much had changed.

In reality, Joe’s antics on this trip were probably charming her more than anything, and Frank was just making things awkward.

Luckily, Nancy was just as excited to work with him-them-as he was to work with her. She was beaming when they met at the train station early that morning. She ran to them with every clue she found on the train, eager to put all of their brains together.

If Frank wasn’t so insecure he’d notice Nancy’s eyes lingering on him more than Joe when the three of them huddled in the dining car. He’d interpret her compliments on his abilities and intelligence as more than just friendly observations of a fellow detective. He’d realize she admired him in more ways than one. Nancy was usually the oblivious one, but for a semi-professional detective, he was being incredibly obtuse.

Then again, she wasn’t exactly being as upfront as she would be about anything else. Nancy was nothing if not blunt, but she couldn’t very well treat Frank like a suspect. She had no issue confronting everyone on this train, but confronting her feelings? That sounded like a nightmare.

She was also all too aware of the ethical reasons she couldn’t, or shouldn’t, tell Frank how she felt. While they weren’t exactly talking at the moment, she knew Ned was waiting for her at home. She knew he’d eventually apologize. She wasn’t even sure what he’d be apologizing for. She was always the one who needed to say sorry.

She hadn’t seen the boy in two years--so what if her crush had resurfaced? Was it worth risking a solid relationship for a fleeting desire? She had something real, something tangible. Frank Hardy was always just a guilty pleasure of her imagination; a fantasy her mind wandered to when she wanted to get out of her own head, out of River Heights.

But wasn’t that the life she craved anyway?

Joe had fallen asleep already, his steady, quiet snoring trailing down from the top bunk. Nancy and Frank sat close on the floor below and kept quiet. Frank was leaning against the bottom bunk he had claimed, Nancy sitting cross-legged a few inches in front of him. The dim light of the lamp on the bedside table shone warm and yellow on Nancy’s skin.

About an hour had gone by without either of them uttering a word, sitting in comfortable silence together. Admittedly, Frank had spent the better half of that hour looking at or thinking about Nancy rather than the case.

“Can you make heads or tails of this?” she asked him, waving Jake’s letter at him. “I thought I cracked part of it but I might just be sleep-deprived.”

Frank yawned and took the paper from her. He stared at the old parchment paper, the fading black script swimming in front of him. Calico, Silverado, blah blah blah...He wiped his hand over his face and handed the letter back.

“Nance, it’s been a long day. I think it’s best to just look at it with a fresh set of eyes in the morning.”

Nancy looked disappointed as she took the letter back. She made no moves to get up, just resumed flipping through her notebook. As tired as Frank was, he didn’t want her to leave, so he pretended to be looking at his own notes and tried not to fall asleep. He rested his head against the bed behind him. His eyes fluttering shut. He’d just rest his eyes for a moment...then he could spend more time with Nancy...

He jolted awake when he heard himself snore. He jerked his head up and looked at Nancy, who wasn’t looking at him, but still immersed in her notes. Thank God, he thought.

He wiped the corner of his mouth surreptitiously, in case, god forbid, he had drooled during his nap. He couldn’t have been out for long, she probably didn’t even notice...

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said, smiling slyly as she kept her head down. Frank blushed, admittedly enjoying the sound of that coming out of her mouth.

“Sorry, it’s been a long day, I guess it just..caught up to me. I-”

“No, I’m sorry, I’m probably keeping you awake.”

“Oh, no, I mean, obviously I can fall asleep sitting straight up with you here, so...” He smiled, embarrassed.

“I just...feel a little weird in my room. It’s where Camille used to sleep, apparently, and before you say it,” Nancy looked at him pointedly. He smirked. “No, I don’t believe in ghosts now. But I think John Grey has been pulling tricks to make people think Camille’s spirit’s roaming around here, and I don’t want to be a target.”

“If you say so, Drew. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Joe you’ve suddenly become a believer.”

She shot him another look.

“I do say so. After what Lori pulled on us, who knows what else we’re in for.”

“You have a point,” he conceded.

“I always do.” Nancy smiled playfully, and Frank’s stomach knotted. He was in awe of the way they fell back into this groove every time they worked on a case together. The light teasing, bouncing ideas off one another.

“Plus, Tino said something about ‘going over our notes together,’ which I think means he just wants to see what I’ve found out so far, and I don’t want to be there if or when he knocks on my door. I’d rather just avoid him.”

“What a sleazebag.” Frank scoffed. “He’s been so condescending this whole trip, and he wants to take credit for your work. Let me know if he says anything else. I know Joe is just looking for an excuse to deck him.”

Nancy shook her head. “No no no, Frank, really, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

Frank backtracked. “I know! I was mostly kidding. I-I wasn’t saying you couldn’t, or-”

“Besides, I really don’t want you to get kicked off of this trip.” She put her hand on his tense thigh.

Frank softened immediately. “You’re right. I wouldn’t actually hit the guy, you know. Joe might, though.” Nancy breathed out a laugh.

He kept talking to keep his mind off of her hand on his leg. “You can stay in here as long as you want. I mean...I’ll even sleep on the floor, if you want to take my bunk.”

“No, I couldn’t do that to you!”

“Nancy, please. As you can see, I’ll fall asleep anywhere.”

She stayed silent, reluctant to accept his offer, but inwardly groaning at the thought of sleeping on the floor of a train car.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She smiled graciously.

She scooted over to lean against the bed next to him, her arm dangerously close to his.

“You’re the best.”

Frank cracked a toothy smile and he felt a flutter in his stomach.

“I’m so glad you invited me. I was really excited to hear from you,” Nancy gushed, but instantly cringed, wondering if she was coming on too strong.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” Frank’s deep voice and sincere tone sent a shiver down Nancy’s spine.

Their hands, propping them both up on the floor, were nearly touching. Nancy shifted hers so her pinky grazed his thumb.

“You know, I missed you guys, a lot.”

Frank turned to her when she said this to find her facing him, her nose just a few inches from his, her ice blue eyes gazing at him. He had never seen that look on her face before, and he was trying to pin down what it was when she whispered, “Especially you.”

Nancy’s lips curved slightly. She hoped he finally caught on. A girl could only drop so many hints.

Frank thought he might be imagining the signs due to fatigue, but in that moment he didn’t even care if he made a fool of himself. His eyes flitted across her face before determinedly, but slowly, leaning into her, giving her plenty of time to back away. She didn’t.

He hovered a centimetre from her, the end of his nose touching hers. They sat suspended in time, delaying the inevitable. Their eyelids slipped lower. Frank held himself there, thinking that as long as this was all that happened, they weren’t breaking any rules. There was nothing wrong with this. Nancy might have had the same thought. He dared to move a little closer.

Nancy closed her eyes but did not move, allowing Frank to capture her lips in his. Her lips tingled, the sensation traveling down her body, between her legs, down to her toes. Her breath caught.

Once she finally regained control of her body, her lips began to move in sync with his.

Frank’s hand moved up to the side of her face, his fingers tickling her ear and just below her jaw, and another jolt ran through her. She placed a light hand on his chest, noticing his firm muscles below his soft t-shirt.

As the hand on her cheek slipped into her hair, Frank moved his other hand to her waist and leaned further into her. Her skin seared where he touched her. She broke away for a millisecond to breathe a shaky breath before reconnecting with him, leaning further into him, applying more pressure.

Her tongue had just found its way into his mouth when a particularly loud snore from Joe made them jump apart. Nancy’s eyes widened and pointed upwards where the younger Hardy boy rustled.

Frank held his breath until his brother stopped stirring, watching Nancy’s face shift from startled to embarrassed. She blushed, but had a mischievous twinkle in her eye. They caught eyes and awkwardly chuckled.

He felt like he was in high school again, almost caught by his parents on the couch in the basement with a girl. That was usually Joe, though.

Nancy bit her lip and looked at the ground. Frank cleared his throat to break the silence. The moment was gone.

“I think it might be time to get ready for bed,” Frank whispered, gesturing to his brother.

Nancy laughed silently and pushed herself up off the floor, brushing off her soft white shorts.

Frank grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and headed out of the room without a word. Nancy blew out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and sat down on the bed, leaning against the wall and trying one last time to decipher the letter. Anything to avoid thinking about what just happened.

When Frank walked back in a few moments later, Nancy forced her eyes to stay focused on the paper in front of her, but she could feel her face heating up.

Frank shuffled awkwardly, unsure what to do next. Were they supposed to talk about it? Pretend it never happened?

He was just about to ask Nancy to hand him a pillow from the bed so he could make up his sleeping arrangement on the floor when she perked up.

“Wait, I think I figured something out. Look at this,” she beckoned to Frank and he sat next to her on the bed, looking over her shoulder at the letter.

“The oven in the dining car has some symbols on it that I saw on the scale that opened the door to Jake’s projector room. Do you think that’s what he means by a warm place?”

“It definitely could be. Either way, it sounds like the oven is significant.”

She turned over her shoulder and their eyes met. Again, Frank lost all rational thought and fought sleep away, forcing his eyes open as he grabbed his notebook again and leaned into Nancy to continue looking over the letter.

The two of them pored over the notes again in silence, this time on the small twin bed. Frank was suddenly wide awake, alert and aware of every sensation. His temperature rose every time she shifted and their arms touched, but she was clearly unruffled by the whole event. Leave it to Nancy to act like nothing had happened five minutes after the fact.

Eventually, Nancy’s eyes began to droop and her head lolled to the side, hovering above Frank’s shoulder. He shifted so her face met his arm and she could rest on him comfortably. She jumped awake at the contact.

“Ugh, now I’m falling asleep.” She smiled sheepishly at him. He chuckled.

“It’s okay, we can just go to bed and take another look in the morning. It’s late.”

Frank moved to slide off the bed when Nancy timidly grabbed his wrist.

“You don’t...have to sleep on the floor, Frank. I-I mean, it’s so uncomfortable, I don’t want you to be in pain tomorrow.”

Was she implying they could share this small bunk bed? After what had just happened? His stomach was twisting--he wanted desperately to lie down next to her, both for the comfort of an actual bed and the contact it would allow. But that would make things even murkier.

She had a boyfriend. His brother was in the room, just a few feet above them.

Frank turned to her and wished he hadn’t, because it crushed any resolve he had left in him. Her bright blue eyes were glossy with fatigue, and something else. Something he couldn’t say no to.

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem...” he said, noncommittally.

She nodded, pulling the blankets down. Swallowing hard, Frank leaned over to turn the dim lamp off and lay on his back next to her, being careful to keep his body as far from hers as possible. Although in this twin bed, even that meant he could feel the static in the space between their arms.

Nancy yawned and turned her head to the side, gazing at the outline of Frank’s profile in the dark. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch his face, to trace his hard jawline speckled with stubble. She closed her eyes and tried to just enjoy the weight of his body next to hers. In an instant, she slipped into slumber.

Despite his racing mind and pounding heart, it didn’t take long for Frank to fall asleep either.

Not much later, Frank was awoken by a sudden pressure on his chest. He opened his eyes to a mass of red tresses just under his chin, shining in the moonlight spilling through the room’s small window.

He sighed as he realized his arm had instinctively wrapped around Nancy when she sidled up next to him while they slept, her leg draped over his and her dainty hand gently lain on his collarbone. His heart sped up to the point where he was afraid it would wake her.

Slowly and carefully, Frank shimmied them both deeper under the covers and tried to slide them closer to the wall in an attempt to obscure their sleeping position should Joe wake up.

He told himself he didn’t want to remove Nancy from his chest because he didn’t want to wake her. Any other reasons, he shoved deep down. He closed his eyes tight, willing the guilt away and trying his best to ignore the warm, glowing feeling radiating from his entire body.

After another hour or so, Frank was again awoken, this time by Joe climbing down from the top bunk. Panicked, Frank turned swiftly onto his side, facing the wall, forcing Nancy onto hers and shielding her from sight. She stirred in her sleep, her hand mindlessly rubbing up and down Frank’s abdomen.

Christ. This isn’t helping.

She didn’t wake, even when the door slammed shut behind Joe as he went, presumably, to the bathroom. By the time he came back to the room, Frank’s and Nancy’s legs had tangled further together and Nancy’s hand had slithered up onto Frank’s face, her thumb grazing his cheekbone.

She really moves a lot in her sleep. Frank’s half-conscious mind wandered. She’s probably a blanket hog, and rubs her cold feet on whoever she shares a bed with...Frank could get used to it.

Frank held his breath until he heard his brother lay back down above them, hoping he hadn’t seen the extra mass beneath his blanket. He really didn’t feel like answering Joe’s questions, or being the target of his poorly-veiled jabs in front of Nancy and everyone else for the rest of the train ride.

We’re not doing anything wrong. She needed a place to sleep. Cuddling up next to a warm body is a reflex, it just happens. We weren’t even conscious. The excuses rolled through his head on a conveyor belt. He tried not to think of whom Nancy usually cuddled with, hogged blankets from and bothered with her cold feet. He again fell into a comfortable sleep.

Frank would have been annoyed at being woken up for a third time that night, had it been anyone else. When he opened his eyes, Nancy was crawling over him, her long legs stretching carefully to avoid stepping on him. She gracefully slid onto the floor and adjusted her shorts.

A quick glance at the clock on the wall told Frank it was 6 AM--there was no way Joe was up yet. Nancy tiptoed toward the door and slowly slid it open. When she turned around to close it she locked eyes with Frank, realizing he was awake.

He felt embarrassed that he was caught watching her, but she grinned at him in a way he hadn’t seen before, like there was a secret between them. He realized the look in her eyes was the one he’d seen last night. Her gaze lingered on him a moment as he rubbed the sleep from his eye and smiled back. She slid the door shut and Frank dropped his head back onto the pillow, still feeling her warmth on the mattress next to him.

Nancy strolled back to her own room in the quiet of the morning, soft blue light flooding the train car. Too disoriented to recognize any potential consequences, she couldn’t stop smiling.

#TRN #fanfic #mine #last train to blue moon canyon #francy alert #FRANCY #frank x nancy #nancy drew #nancy drew video games #nancy drew books #fanfiction #the next one will be better maybe probably idk

24 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

Catch Me If You Can (38/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for being my beta, @imagnifika for the cover art, and all of you for being awesome, whether you read this story or not ❤️

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35| 36 | 37 | 38

-/-

The thing about being a starting pitcher is that Killian rarely plays. It’s every five days usually, and Killian is too competitive to simply be able to sit and watch while everyone else gets to be out there on the field. If it wasn’t absolute murder on his shoulder, he’d be in Al’s office every damn day asking why he can’t be out there.

Understandably, having to watch his teammates play without being able to help has been killing him more in this past week than it did while he was out on injury, and that was actual hell.

Rob did a fantastic job that first night clinching the first game for them by making it nearly impossible for the Dodgers to get on base, and Killian, while he didn’t play his best, pitched a good enough game and had help from Eric’s three-run homerun for them to win the second. It’s simply that everything after that has been a bit of a nightmare.

They lost two incredibly close games in a row in California to tie things up, won the next one, and now they could clinch the entire Series at home in New York.

Tonight.

With Rob pitching and Killian sitting on the bench.

And as much as Killian would love to get to be an active part of it all like he was during the winning game last year, he would give absolutely everything for them to win tonight so that he doesn’t have to get up on the mound tomorrow. The pressure and desire and want is so damn intense that it makes Killian’s heart ache, but he knows that this isn’t really about him. No part of him could be selfish enough to want to lose today so that he could have the possibility of the glory tomorrow.

That would be ridiculous, and he doesn’t know what the hell he’d do if he wakes up tomorrow morning with a stiff shoulder and he’s got to get out there and play.

Sighing, Killian stretches out his legs to the seat in front of him as a whisper of wind whirls through the stadium to bring in the late October chill. He fiddles with the sleeves of his sweatshirt, pulling them down to cover his wrists where chill bumps are rising, and he wishes that he had a hat on to protect himself from weather, his ears likely red from the cold. It’s only seven in the morning, most of the stadium completely empty except for the maintenance crew and a few people in the offices, but Killian knew that this would be his only time to take it all in with no one around him.

An empty stadium is nearly as magical as a packed one.

He’s spent his entire life building up to things like this. Sure, there were times when he had other goals. He wanted to be a teacher, wanted to get his degree and help others, but that was always the fallback goal. It was never the main one.

Baseball has been his life.

Lately, though, Killian’s been thinking about life outside of the game more than ever. It’s insane because he feels like he’s one of those obnoxious people who only lives and breathes baseball all the time, especially with what’s going on right now, but his mind has managed to find a way to wander elsewhere.

There are saved searches on his phone about going back to Vanderbilt to finish his degree and a sent message in his email to an advisor asking if it would be possible for him to finish in New York instead of having to take classes in person. He hasn’t told anyone that he’s thinking about it, not yet. Telling someone makes it real, and Killian’s not entirely sure that he wants it to be real quite yet. He’s a grown ass man, but change is still terrifying when he’s grown comfortable in his life.

Baseball isn’t forever, though, and while he may still work in the sport later on, he’s not going to be someone who goes throughout his entire life living out the glory days through memory.

Tonight, might be another big moment that defines his life, but the past six months have been pretty life changing as well. Hell, the past year has been.

Things are changing in ways that he wants and ways that he doesn’t, and that’s simply how it is.

“So, we woke up at the ass crack of dawn so that you could sit out here all by yourself?”

Killian twists his head to the side to see Emma standing a few seats over dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, scarf wrapped around her neck and Yankees cap on her head. He was so wrapped up in his own mind that he didn’t even hear her move toward him.

“Hey, love,” he smiles, reaching up and holding out his hand so that the cool tip of her fingers touch his as he intertwines their fingers while she settles down into the seat next to him and props her feet up on the seat in front of her. “I told you that you didn’t have to come with me.”

Sitting here reminds him of another time in San Francisco when he put his heart on his sleeve and willingly handed it over to Emma to crush before they decided that they would give the two of them a go and simply see how things worked out. If she had said no that day, he could have listened. But damn is he glad that she said yes.

Or, well, technically, he was the one saying yes.

Either way, everything in his life shifted.

“I know, but you get all moody and introspective, and I didn’t want you psyching yourself out.”

“I would not do that.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Just a little bit.” His hand flexes against hers, shifting his fingers the slightest bit so that he can get a more comfortable grip on Emma’s hands. “What have you been doing while I’ve been sitting here being introspective and psyching myself out?”

“I was taking some pictures. It’s kind of cool to see the calm before the storm, you know? And then David called me with some work stuff and to give me shit about us making out being all over Instagram, so I sat on a bench and talked to him for awhile.”

“He called you this early? Is he crazy?”

“I think David forgets that not everyone wakes up this early, and he has no qualms about waking me up. Usually I’m much meaner to him.”

“I’m surprised you’re not being mean to me.”

“The coffee we had at home really works wonders.”

Killian almost opens his mouth to say something about Emma referring to his apartment as home. But only almost. They’re both aware of the living situation, have joked about it to each other and others before, and they don’t need some kind of official discussion about things. It’ll all happen naturally, and when the time comes, they’ll talk about it. For now, things are perfect just as they are.

Life has been crazy with his injury and then Walsh and Brennan and the aftermath of them being absolute assholes. It’s gotten crazier with the World Series and how much press he’s now getting, both for the games and for his relationship with Emma, much of which is now weirdly being caught on camera. All Killian really wants is a bit of normal here.

The sun continues to rise in the sky, darkness shifting into an orange glow that will eventually turn into bright sunshine that makes it difficult to see without a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose. The grass on the field is wet with condensation, water coating the blades, and if it wasn’t freezing out there, he thinks he’d go out and sit along the edge of the back wall instead of in a stadium seat.

Bringing Emma’s hand to his lips, he presses a kiss to each of her knuckles before pulling their joined hands back down to rest on his thigh.

“I think,” he starts, not entirely sure where he’s going, “that I could stay out here forever. I don’t know…maybe I feel things too deeply compared to everyone else, but this place has always felt like home. I can’t imagine what things would be like if I’d been drafted somewhere else or if I’d never been called up at all.”

She hums next to him, and Killian looks down to see Emma’s thumb rubbing across his knuckles like she always seems to do. “What’s that thing you’re always saying? There’s no such thing as ‘what ifs.’ Not in life and not in sport. What happened, happened.”

“Doesn’t keep me from wondering.”

“It doesn’t keep anyone from wondering, twenty-nine.” Her hand squeezes his again, and Killian’s mind dares to ask once more what his life would be like had he not met Emma. It’s a question he doesn’t want an answer to. “What if my parents had kept me? What if Ruth had never decided to foster a shitty teenager with an attitude issue? What if I had never met Neal or Walsh or Ruby or anyone who has impacted my life they the way they have? What if I never met you?”

“You’d be missing out on the best sex of your life.”

Emma knocks her foot into his as he snickers at his own awful joke. “You’re full of yourself.”

He shrugs. “It happens. And I know. I’m just – my stomach has been in knots over all of this for an entire month. I’m not sure my body is going to make it ten more hours. Or hell, possibly even thirty-six. I’ve had to hype myself up for all of this, and I’m a little…fuck, Swan, I’m exhausted and excited, and I’m scared I’m going to have some kind of adrenaline crash.”

It’s Emma’s turn to bring their hands together so that she can brush her lips over his knuckles. His heart stutters at the movement.

God, he loves her. It’s actually insane how much. Truly, it shouldn’t be possible.

“For one, getting up and coming to the stadium before the sun even fully rises is not something that’s going to help with your exhaustion.”

He twists his head to look at her, and she’s got mischief in her eyes and a smirk stretched across her lips that he has to kiss away. She still tastes like coffee.

“Also,” she whispers against his lips, kissing him again, “you’re not going to crash. Not yet. I know you’re really big on not riding on what happened last year, but you’ve got to do that. You’ve been through this before, and you made it. Those butterflies in your stomach are being felt by everyone who’s involved with this team, and hanging out by yourself the entire time isn’t going to help things. Why don’t we go get breakfast together? Or maybe go back to bed?”

“How about a game of catch?”

“What?” Emma laughs as she pulls back from him with furrowed brows? “I am not playing catch with you. Are we five?”

Killian shakes his head and chuckles as he stands from the seat and begins to stretch his shoulders out, letting go of Emma’s hand and rolling his shoulders back as he laughs at himself.

“We’re twenty-eight. I know you remember your birthday last week. And come on, Swan. I play a game of really expensive catch for a living. It’s part of my job to work on my arm today, just in case, and I need a practice partner.”

“That’s what Will and Eric or August are for.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, reaching forward to tug her up only for her weight to go dead so that he can’t move her, “but they’re not here. You are.”

Emma closes her gaping mouth, and her lips move in different directions while her nose scrunches up so that little crinkles appear around her eyes under the shade of her hat. “Okay, but if there’s one misogynistic quip about me throwing like a girl, I’m breaking up with you on the spot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with throwing like a girl, Swan. It’s pretty badass. But there’s something wrong with throwing like shit.”

“I’m not going to throw like shit.” Killian starts walking over the chairs, easily maneuvering through the stands with Emma following behind him. “But I ask you to remember that while I pride myself in my fitness, it’s in things like Pilates and running or boxing. It’s not in baseball. You, meanwhile, do this for a living.”

“These sound like a hell of a lot of excuses.”

“That’s because they are.”

“There’s no excuses in baseball.”

“I thought it was crying.”

“Fuck no,” Killian scoffs. “There’s a lot of crying in baseball, and anyone who tells you something different is a liar.”

“I can’t believe you just called Tom Hanks, America’s sweetheart, a liar.”

They have to go back through the tunnels to get a bucket of balls and some gloves as well as a few towels to wipe the grass in the bullpen down since it’s wet and neither of them are wearing the right shoes for this, but they do eventually get to the point where he can lightly toss the ball back and forth between the two of them. He’s not going to pitch at full speed, not until he has Will later, but it’s soothing to simply be out here getting a little movement in. He’s been back for two weeks, practicing for four, but it’s still all brand new again to him and shaded under a light that wasn’t there before.

Emma isn’t bad at all. She’s actually rather good, a natural some might say, and he jokes with her that if sports broadcasting doesn’t work out for her, she might take up a career in this. Naturally that gets him an eye roll or two, but she keeps on throwing until the sun is high in the sky and the day has truly begun.

Killian’s ready for it.

Everything seems to pass quickly then. The entirety of the Dodgers team walks out onto the field for their scheduled practice while he and Emma are still messing around in the bullpen, somewhere between still doing a bit of practice and Killian backing Emma up against the wall to make out with her. No one sees them, though, the loud blaring of music startling the two of them away from each other, and Killian presses Emma a little further into the wall while he buries his face in her neck so that he can muffle the sound of his laughter.

He’s not entirely sure that works, especially when Emma is doing the same, but they eventually manage to grab their things and slip inside so that an entire professional team isn’t aware of the fact that he was using the early morning stadium to kiss his girlfriend.

That would certainly have been something.

There is an actual practice that Killian has to attend today, an hour of which needs to be spent with him running on the treadmill and then getting massaged by Archie to work out any knots and kinks in his shoulder and to make sure that it’s not inflamed. Killian is always terrified that he’s going to be told that his shoulder is inflamed again and that he won’t be able to play on a day where he thinks he’s going to be able to. That would completely screw up the lineup, and…No, now isn’t the time to think about that.

Killian tells Emma that he’ll see her later, that he’ll probably come bother her wherever the network has her sitting even though he’s splitting the time in the game between the dugout, the clubhouse, and the suite where his family is going to be sitting. She has to go home and get ready for the day, and even if she didn’t, he very much doubts that she’d like to stick around and watch him run.

And then they’re both off.

Let the game begin.

-/-

“Are you guys going to win today?”

Now, that’s the question of the day, isn’t it?

Killian looks down at Roland who is dressed in head to toe Yankees gear, all his dad’s of course, and there’s a nervous smile on the kid’s face. Roland is almost never nervous. He has that childlike faith in everything even with all of the tragedy in his life of having lost his mom, and he nearly always believes that things are going to work out. There’s no good or bad, just the belief that things will work out the way you want them to simply by the power of wanting them to.

If only it were that simple.

“I don’t know, lad,” Killian answers honestly as he reaches down to pick Roland up, easily putting him on his shoulders as Killian walks him down the hallways to the suite he’s staying in for the game. Roland was in the clubhouse for all of the pre-game celebrations, and the kid heard and saw things that he probably didn’t need to hear for several more years.

A decade, really. Maybe two.

Yeah, definitely two decades. There was some creative swearing.

“Why not?”

“Well, because we can’t predict the future, and the other team is really good too.”

“But I want to win.”

“Me too,” he sighs as he pushes open the doors to lead to the suites. “And everyone is going to try their best. But you know what?” “What?”

“I think if you cheer extra hard, it might help your dad out, okay? He might lose because the other team is good, but you’ve got to cheer him on no matter what.”

Roland’s ankles hit against Killian’s collarbone, and Killian pretends that the bony lad doesn’t hurt like hell when he hits him. “I can cheer really loud. Like, Grandma says that it makes her ears hurt.”

“If you’re not making Grandma’s ears hurt, you’re not cheering loud enough.”

That sentence pretty much sums up why he’s the best uncle in the world, Killian thinks. It’s basically the equivalent of giving kids a pint of ice cream right before they go back to their parents.

Killian pushes open the suite doors and ducks down underneath them so that he doesn’t knock Roland out. Everyone is situated on the couches and around the tables in front of the TV, and no one pays him any mind as he puts Roland down so that he can run to where Addy, Lucy, and Leo are. He imagines that between the four of them, they’re going to make everyone’s ears hurt from their screaming.

Maybe Killian will go spend time sitting in the dugout instead of in here, but it’s a long game. He’s got time to move around as long as he does make time to study Robin’s throwing patterns against each batter.

“Hey,” he murmurs to Elsa in the kitchen area while she pops a chip into her mouth. “I don’t know that it’s good that you’re playing hooky from work and letting the girls do the same with school.”

“Shut up,” she says in between crunchy bites of food, her hand covering her mouth. “You think that joke is funny every time, but it’s not.”

“It is.” Killian dips his head down and presses a kiss to Elsa’s cheek. “But I fully approve of the skipping work thing, especially when your husband’s lazy ass took the entire week off.”

“He’s supporting his baby brother.”

“Younger, Els. Younger. I don’t need you encouraging that.”

Her bottom lip sticks out. “But it’s so fun to see your ears get all red with embarrassment.”

“Every single thing I’ve ever said about me being glad to have an older sister in you and Anna? Yeah, I’m taking all of those back.”

“You can’t.” She swipes another chip through the dip. “They’ve been said, and I keep them all in my heart right next to where Addy told me that even if she got to choose her mom, she’d still choose me.”

“Classy.”

“I know,” Elsa laughs. “Where’s your better half?”

“She’s working.” Killian pinches his brows together. “So we’re not even going to pretend that I could possibly be the better half?”

“Nope. Just like Liam isn’t the better half either. And don’t make some quip about being equals. Just let me have this. I’m already stress eating chips.” He laughs while reaching forward to drag the bowl away from Elsa so that she can’t eat anymore, but she doesn’t let him, grabbing onto it and pulling it back. “I didn’t say to stop me. World Series week is like the holidays. The calories don’t count until my jeans feel a little snug next week.”

“Ahh,” Killian sighs in understanding. “That’s likely a good thing for how many baked goods I’ve sent your way.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the dugout?” Ariel questions as she steps up to them with her glass of water in her hand. “It’s kind of a big game.”

“It’s also kind of the top of the first inning, and I’m not playing.”

“Excuses.”

“A legitimate one. How’re you holding up, A?”

She waves him away and reaches for the pitcher of water. “I’m fine. Eric is the nervous wreck. I have enough confidence in you guys that I won’t worry until, you know, we’re losing.”

“Only worrying when we’re losing? What kind of method is that? You have to worry all the damn time.”

“That’s how you have a heart attack, and I have not suffered eating healthily and exercising so much to have a heart attack this young.”

“This is where Liam would tell you that it can happen to anyone in any age.”

“Where is Liam?” Killian questions as he looks around the suite for his brother only to have him nowhere to be seen.

“He and David are sitting in David’s regular seats because David was complaining about Mary Margaret and Leo not wanting to use them. I imagine he’ll be up here soon when he realizes how expensive food is to buy.”

“They’re such old men.”

“Says the man who was wearing a sweater while drinking a cup of tea and reading in his apartment last night instead of coming out to dinner with all of us.”

Killian sputters a bit as he narrows his eyes at Ariel. “First of all, there is nothing wrong with doing any of that. Second of all, how could you possibly know that?”

Ariel shrugs, mischief in all of her features. “Emma sent it in the group text.”

Of course she did. A man can’t even relax in his own home without being called out for it.

“Who is in this group text exactly?”

“Oh, just me, Elsa, Anna, and Belle. Don’t worry. Not everyone gets to see the embarrassing pictures of you drooling in your sleep.”

He’s going to kill Emma.

Or get his revenge. Somewhere in between those two.

There’s a loud groan from everyone watching the game, and that’s when Killian is reminded that there’s a game going on. He didn’t know that he could possibly forget, but apparently being teased about how he spends his nights will let him do that. When he sees what’s happening out on the field, though, Killian wishes that he’d been able to completely and totally forget about the game.

There are three men on base for the Dodgers, only one out, and one of their best hitters is up to bat.

Fuck.

This is not a good start.

This is a long game, but bad starts can change the momentum of absolutely everything. It gets in everyone’s head. The losing team is convinced that they’re going to lose, that they can’t come back from this, and the team that’s ahead gets all the belief in the world with their abilities.

Momentum shifts are everything, and it’s not time for the momentum to shift. Not yet.

And yet it does.

Robin throws what Killian knows is a good fastball and Rob’s specialty, but Stewart hits a sharp line drive down past third base that Arthur doesn’t get to. By the time that he does, the Dodgers already have two runs, Stewart is on second, and Ferguson is sliding into home before the ball can get there.

0-3 for the Dodgers eleven minutes in.

Shit.

Now it’s time for Ariel and everyone else to get nervous.

And it never gets better. Not really. There are times and chances and shots that have Killian grabbing onto his hair in frustration, but nothing comes of it. Nothing at all. Every single time there’s a real chance, something happens: the Dodgers have an unbelievable get, someone fumbles when the Yankees should have an easy chance at a double play, or every single person somehow forgets how to hit.

Until they don’t.

Because now it’s the bottom of the ninth, and after an absolutely incredible eighth inning, it’s now 7-9.

They’re only down by two runs.

(Two runs.)

Killian is pacing back and forth in the dugout now exhausting every bit of emotional energy he has left in him. He left the suite the moment that first inning was over, texting Emma and Liam that there’d been a change of plans and he wouldn’t be meeting up with them after all. There was no way that he was going to be anywhere other than with his team when things were going to hell.

Being two runs behind is both nothing and everything.

There have been plenty of times when they’ve come back from a deficit like this. There have been plenty more when they’ve blown a two-run lead. And yet, like fifty-five thousand people in this stadium know, this isn’t any other game. This is The Game, and they’re closing in on the golden hour of chances.

It’s win now or come back tomorrow for one last chance of glory or crushing defeat.

Best of seven means nothing when there’s the possibility of there only being one game left.

“You’re going to exhaust yourself if you don’t sit down,” Robin tells him from his seat behind him on the bench.

Will has just stepped up to home plate, his bat in hand and feet in position, and Killian can’t breathe. His lungs have stopped taking in air.

“How could you possibly be sitting down for this? Is your blood not on fire?”

“I just pitched five innings, mate. My adrenaline high is gonedown. I’m exhausted.”

The ball is launched through the air toward Will, and Killian immediately knows that he shouldn’t take a swing at it.

He does.

Strike one.

“Shit,” Killian murmurs, kicking his foot at a water cup on the ground. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”

“Funny, Fisher, I told your wife the same thing. Aren’t you supposed to be warming up?”

Killian doesn’t even have to look to know that Eric is rolling his eyes. “I’m grabbing my stuff to do just that.” There’s a warm hand on Killian’s back, and he turns to look at it just as a “ball” is called. “Take some deep breaths, man. We’ve got this.”

“Aye,” Killian sighs, “we’ve got this.”

Strike two.

“Shit.”

Ball two.

Ball three.

Foul ball.

Killian’s phone buzzes in his back pocket, and he opens it up to see Emma’s name.

Emma: They’re having to censor you on television right now.

Emma: Just thought you might want to know that. Literally every time they show the dugout, you’re cursing. Ruby is getting a kick out of it.

Killian moves to text her back, to say something witty in response, but then the wood of Will’s bat is making contact with the ball and it’s flying gone, gone, gone…

Until it’s caught in the outfield.

Out one.

“Fuck.”

They’ve still got a shot. They have to. And as much as Killian hates cheering for Arthur King and hates that he only got a monetary fine for what he said to Emma and about her, he’s exactly who Killian has to cheer for now as Arthur hits a line drive that enables him to get on first base.

That’s progress.

It’s even more progress when Eric hits a triple sending Arthur into home.

8-9.

Holy fuck.

They might do this. They just might.

Killian still can’t breathe, but this is obviously his natural state now. This is how he’s going to have to live out the rest of his life.

Emma: Okay, now I understand all of the cursing. I’m freaking out.

Killian: Me too. We make quite the pair.

Emma: The best pair. It’s all going to be okay, twenty-nine.

He smiles down at his phone, his lungs taking in a bit of air at that.

Killian: It will be. I love you.

Killian: A frankly ridiculous amount.

“Out,” the umpire yells, and Killian immediately rests his head against the dugout railing, his nails digging into the hem of his sweatshirt as sweat drips down his back even with the late October chill whipping through the stadium as the night fully comes into effect, the sun long since gone.

Out two.

“For fuck’s sake,” Al yells, throwing his hat to the ground and slapping his hand against the railing. “Why would you swing at that, Whale? You could have fucking walked, and then we’d have two men on base with one out. That changes everything.”

It’s not Whale’s fault. It’s not. He messed up, sure, but it’s a team effort. Killian doesn’t always believe that when he’s the one pitching. It’s hard to get that out of your head when you’re being yelled at by managers and fans and people online sending death threats, but it’s true. It’s not one person out there even when it feels like it.

Killian’s going to have to remind himself of that tomorrow.

No.

He can’t go there. They’re not going to play tomorrow. Booth is up to bat, and he’ll get Eric home. Then it’ll be tied up, and they’ll have their shot to close this out right here and right now.

Hope bubbles up in Killian’s chest, his throat closing up with excitement and anticipation, and that lack of breathing thing comes back again as his knuckles go white from the strength of his grip on the railing. When he looks to the right, he sees that Robin’s knuckles are just the same.

They might do this.

Roland and Addy have to be screaming their heads off up in the suite. Killian almost wants to text Elsa or Liam to see what’s happening, but his eyes are glued to the field as August swings his bat at the very first ball.

It’s a fucking foul.

Strike one.

“Come on Booth,” Will shouts out, clapping his hands together. “You’ve got it, man. Be smart about it.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s helping, Scarlet.”

“It is, Professor Jones. I’m a great motivational speaker.”

Killian’s lips stretch into a smile, a bit of calm returning, until the ball flies from the mound again, whipping through the air and curving into the strike zone at the last minute.

August doesn’t swing.

Strike two.

The stadium absolutely erupts then, hands clapping together and feet hitting against the floor while thousands of people scream, a mix of cheers and boos for August. If anyone can handle this kind of pressure, can handle the weight of world on his shoulders and the pressure, it’s August.

Pressure is a privilege.

He’s likely not feeling too privileged right now.

And as suddenly as the noise started, it calms down. While there are still people talking and cheering and making all kinds of noise, Killian can’t focus on any of it. All he can focus on is what’s right in front of him.

One. Two. Three.

Foul.

One. Two. Three.

Foul.

Killian’s stomach flips, his entire hand going white, and Will is grabbing onto Killian’s forearm so tightly that he could break the bone there.

One.

Two.

Three.

There’s a thwack of ball against Booth’s back, and it absolutely flies into the air. It’s flying, and Killian nearly jumps out of the dugout to get a better view of where it’s going. It’s got to be a home run. It’s got to be. That’s where it’s headed, and Killian’s arms break out in gooseflesh beneath the thick material of his sweatshirt.

They’re about to win the fucking World Series for the second time in a row.

Holy shit.

But then the ball dips.

It dips, right at the line of the back fence, and the ball is caught.

The. Ball. Is. Caught.

The ball is caught, Booth is out, and the game is over.

And just like the ball, Killian’s mood dips, every high hope crashing down around him and weighing down on his shoulders while his stomach flips before everything heavily settles in its place. This isn’t how today was supposed to end. They were supposed to come back from their bad start. They were supposed to win.

They didn’t, though. They lost, and even though Killian tries to be encouraging to everyone around him as they all finish up their post-game on-field routines, in his head he knows that they’ve only got one more shot at this.

They’ve got one more shot, and a lot of it is resting in the palm of his hands. Killian has been a screw up for this team so many times before, and he doesn’t know if he can do that again.

He can’t let everyone down again.

The mood is subdued in the clubhouse as everyone strips out of their clothes, just a constant murmuring of curses and complaints. Even Al is quiet when he’d usually be fired up yelling at everyone, a combination of disbarring comments and encouragements, and that may be the most shocking part of it all.

Reporters begin to fill the room as well as agents and wives and the occasional child, and Killian sits in his locker with his head between his legs taking several deep breaths to calm himself down. His heart is beating far too quickly. It’s thumping in between his ears, and that’s not how it’s supposed to be.

It’s simply not.

“Hey.”

The voice is soft and very much Emma’s, and Killian looks up to see her softly smiling down at him, Jeff no longer trailing behind her with his camera.

The smile that stretches across his lips is forced and half-assed, and he knows that Emma can tell. She steps in between his knees so that his head rests against her stomach while her hands brush through his sweaty hair. They don’t say anything else, simply stay there together while Killian breathes in the scent of Emma’s perfume on her sweater and shivers run down his spine at her touch.

He is undeniably a fan of every part of her, but being able to simply be, to exist, with her is one of his favorites. There’s nothing quite so soothing as knowing the person you love will always be by your side no matter what happens.

They lost. They did. It’s what happened, and there’s no changing it.

Tomorrow is the last chance.

It all comes down to the last one.

-/-

Tag list: @onepunintendid @authorarsinoe @stunningswan @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @superchocovian @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @carpedzem @tornadoamy

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

102 notes · View notes