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mackenzielovee · 3 years ago

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my girl (part 4) - rafe cameron

a/n: SURPRISE! I wrote a part 4 ;) i had this idea right after i said i was only doing 3 parts - but this really is the final one! I really hope ya'll enjoy. It's a little shorter than the rest! (not my gif)

Summary: Nope sorry you have to read!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, kissing, and test anxiety

Word Count: 4.4k

series masterlist

my writing

Your phone buzzing on your nightstand distracts you get again from cramming for your Chemistry final. The exam happens in two days, yet you feel like it might as well be in two hours with the amount of anxiety you have. It's your second year of college, and boy, it hasn't gotten any easier. Thankfully, your roommate is out for the night so you have your entire dorm to yourself to study.

You lean over and check your phone. Another missed call from your fiancee, Rafe. Beside your phone on your nightstand sits your engagement ring. You stare at it for a moment and swallow your feelings, then move back over to your chemistry textbook. Your phone buzzes again - a voicemail from Rafe this time, which you don't bother to listen to.

Chemistry is your focus tonight. Chemistry is what you need to be studying for, what you need to know inside and out. You throw yourself back into it, shutting off your phone when it buzzes yet again. You need absolutely zero distractions.

About twenty minutes into it, you hear a loud knock on the door. You sigh, figuring your roommate forgot her ID or keys again. You pull open the door and sigh, fully shocked when you find Rafe standing at your door. He's out of breath from running inside from the parking lot, and he looks pissed off.

"Oh, good, you're alive," he snaps, pushing his way into your room before you can even invite him.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, closing the door so none of your nosy neighbors can listen to yet another argument between the two of you.

Things haven't been good. You're sick of him calling and texting you all the time, him begging you to come home, and constantly asking who you're with when you go out. On top of all of that, your classes this semester are harder than they've ever been, but Rafe never respects when you say you need space and time to study.

"Checking to see if my fucking fiancee is breathing!" he shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, "I mean, shit, Y/N, I called you, like, twenty times."

You glance over to the nightstand at your phone, realizing your ring was over there, too. You know he won't like that.

"I shut my phone off. I really need to study, Rafe," you tell him, but he's not listening.

Instead, he collapses onto your bed and puts his head in his hands, sitting directly on your Chem textbook and notes.

"Oh, my God, what the hell? Get up," you snap at him, walking over and pushing him off so he doesn't ruin your notes or textbook pages.

"It's fucking fine," he replies as he stands, barely glancing at your papers.

"No, it's not. I need this shit to pass my exam-" you hold the wrinkled papers up.

"They're literally fine, Y/N," his voice raises, "Stop being so dramatic."

You take a deep breath before you speak again, knowing whatever comes out will not be very nice. You've really been trying to be patient with him, but it's getting harder and harder.

"I'm not being dramatic, Rafe," you say calmly, "I just really need to study and I need peace and quiet."

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck as he debates what to say next. Neither of you want to start a fight, but you both have a lot of shit to say. His eye catches the shiny object on the nightstand and he looks over, figuring out it's your engagement ring.

"What the fuck?" he gasps, picking it up and holding it out to you, "Since when do you take this off?"

You put your hands on your forehead and sigh, realizing this is going to take up a lot of time that you don't have. And the fact that Rafe drove eight hours on a whim because you didn't pick up his calls all day has made you crazy.

"I cannot do this with you right now," you tell him, stepping toward your Chemistry stuff.

You'll just have to go to the library and study if he's going to be here. There's no way you can get any of your shit done with him bitching about your ring.

"Oh, my bad, when can you do it, then?" he rolls his eyes, "Huh? Can you give me, like, a window of time where you're actually available to talk?"

"Rafe-" you start, but he holds his hand up.

"No, because, I mean, I don't hear from you all day, and I'm fucking worried about you, so I make the long ass drive to come check on my soon-to-be wife, and now I'm the bad guy? Yeah, no, I get it now!" he exclaims.

"Jesus, okay, I have to go," you say, grabbing your backpack from the floor and sliding some slippers on.

"Right, to study," he grumbles.

"Yeah, to study," you snap back, "Just because you didn't go to school doesn't mean you can't at least try to understand!"

You rarely raise your voice at him, so Rafe knows you're mad. He stares at you for a second, deciding if he should acknowledge your comment about him not attending school.

"It's not about whether or not I understand, it's about time management," he lectures, making you roll your eyes, "Don't roll your fucking eyes at me."

"Don't show up at my dorm unannounced!" you yell back.

"I wouldn't have been unannounced if you would answer your goddamn phone!"

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, then step closer to the door. Rafe walks over to you and grabs your arm, spinning you around. You stare up at him like he's crazy, he's never laid a hand on you like that before.

"Put your ring back on," he demands, holding it out in his hand.

"What the fuck is your problem, Rafe? You think I'm gonna get hit on walking to the damn library? Get a grip," you mutter, trying to yank your arm from his grasp but failing.

"I'm not playing," he tells you, holding the ring up in his other hand.

"Neither am I," you snap, "Let go of me."

He stares at you for another few seconds and then releases you, groaning loudly when he does. He steps away from you and runs his hand through his hair, then sets your ring back down on the nightstand.

"What's going on with us?" he grumbles, sitting down on your bed again.

You start to feel bad as you look at him, so you step closer and set your books down on you desk. You open your mouth to speak, to apologize and return your ring to your finger, when he speaks out again.

"Why didn't you answer the fucking phone when I called?"

You close your mouth quickly, swallowing the words you were about to say. You stare at him for a moment, then you decide that it's just best to tell him the absolute, stone cold truth.

"Because I have shit going on, Rafe. I have a Chem final in two days and I'm not at all prepared, I have other finals and an entire paper due by the end of the week, and I have you up my ass about everything in between and it's just a little overwhelming right now."

He brings his head out of his hands and looks up at you. His expression changes from hurt to angry in about one second, so you brace yourself.

"So what do you want me to do to help you, then?" he asks, his voice agitated. You can tell he's trying to be patient, but he really wants to yell.

"I just need you to give me some space right now," you state.

He nods his head, moving his eyes away from yours and down to the floor.

"Space," he repeats, "You want space."

You nod your head slowly, afraid now to speak. You can't tell what his reaction is about to be, but obviously it isn't going to be a good one.

"So, you ignore my phone calls," he holds up one finger, "You take off your engagement ring," another finger, "And now you want space. Do you think I'm a fucking moron?"

He stands up off the bed, now towering over you. Your hands come up to your face, rubbing your eyes to try and relieve some form of stress.

"God, Rafe, you're making this out to be something it's not-"

"Am I?" he shouts, "Do you want to marry me or not? I mean, I really think that's what this boils down to. Am I what you want, or not?"

His yelling combined with your stress and confusion makes you yell back at him.

"I don't know!"

He steps back, almost like you've hurt him, and stares at you with a look you've never seen before. It's anger, betrayal, confusion, and sadness all rolled into one, heartbroken expression. It makes your stomach turn thinking about the fact that you're hurting him.

"Well, there it is," he says, his voice cracking, "I'll just get out of your way, then."

He leans down and grabs the ring from your nightstand, wrapping his large hand around it and then stepping toward the door.

"Rafe, wait," you say, "Where are you going to go? You can't drive home in the dark."

He doesn't turn around, he can't look at you. Not when you're not sure what you want.

"I'll sleep in the truck," he says, his voice weak and quiet.

"No," you protest, "Rafe, I'm sorry."

He stands there for a few seconds, then turns, and you see the tears in his eyes. One has fallen, and rests on the bottom of his cheek. He wipes it away, but not quick enough.

"Why are you sorry? I'm not what you want anymore," he laughs, but nothing is funny.

Another tear falls and you step forward quickly, reaching up to wipe it away. He closes his eyes under your touch, always loving feeling your skin on his.

"I didn't say that," you say gently, tears welling in your eyes from seeing him like this.

"Just..." he trails off, finally opening his red eyes, "Go ace your Chem final. I'll see you at home in a few days."

He reaches up and grabs your hand, removing it from his cheek. He lays a quick kiss on your knuckles, then closes his eyes again when he lets go of you. Not sure if it's his last time feeling you.

He turns to leave, opening the door up before he turns back to you.

"I love you. I always will."

He doesn't wait for your response, he just closes the door behind him. You turn and look at the nightstand where your ring once sat, wishing to God that it was still there. You want to tun after him, but you know you can't. You two just need some cooling off time, you tell yourself. You'll come back again atfer finals when you get home for Christmas break. He'll hold onto your ring for you, you convince yourself of that.

You can't focus. The next day, you spend all your time in the library, staring at a page in your Chem textbook, and all you can focus on is your empty finger. No pretty ring that reflects every ounce of Rafe's love for you. You check your phone, but all you see is an empty screen. Your wallpaper is a cheesy picture of Rafe holding a wine glass. You took it on your anniversary last year and love everything about it, especially his cheesy grin.

Tears start to form in your eyes, so you do what you have to do. You call him. It rings and rings and rings, then you hear his familiar, raspy voice on his voicemail.

Yo, it's Rafe. Leave a message and I might hit you back.

You close your eyes, those two sentences being the most you've heard from him in almost twenty-four hours.

"Hey," you start your message, "Look, I'm sorry about last night. I really want to talk. Please call me back. Love you, bye."

You sigh and hang up the phone, then look down to your book again. You try and try to focus, but you can't. It just is impossible with everything spinning around your brain. You can still see the look on his face when you said you weren't sure, you can still hear him say 'I love you' right before he left.

And it's all you want to hear again.

You slam your book shut and grab your stuff, then make your way out of the library. Once you get outside, you call Rafe again. You hear the same ringing and the same message from his voicemail, so you leave another.

"Baby, please call me. I'm worried about you. I just want us to talk. Please call. I love you."

You hang up and walk back to your dorm, checking every five seconds to see if he's called you back. You really just want to hear his voice, to apologize, and to be able to focus on Chemistry again. Knowing that Rafe is out there hurting is just too distracting.

You call hm again after you get back to your dorm, giving him about thirty minutes to call back before you try him again. When he doesn't answer, you leave another message.

"Hey," you say, your voice sounding more desperate, "I'm going to call Dad and have him come get me. I'm skipping out on my Chem final. I just want to come home and work things out with you. Call me, please. Love you."

And you mean every word. You sit down on your bed and you remember how Rafe had helped you move in on your first day of freshman year. You remember how he made love to you and how he proposed to you in the parking lot before he left. And you remember all the times he came to visit and you two laid in bed and planned out your whole wedding reception together, laughing and joking about who to invite and who to sit together.

As you sit there and remember it all, remember the kisses and the laughs and the feelings you have when you're with him, you've never been more sure in your life. It's Rafe. It will always be Rafe.

You hear a knock on your dorm room door and hop out of bed, rushing over to it. It's him, you hope. Coming to rescue you, coming to hold you, coming to give you your ring back. You pull open the door with a big smile, only to find your roommate, Alex, standing on the other side.

"Hey," she says, looking confused at why you opened the door like that, "Sorry. I forgot my keys."

You drop your shoulders and nod, moving her out of the way. She leaves the door open as she moves over to her side of the room to search for them. You sit back down on your bed, checking your phone once again. He has to call back eventually.

"You're not ditching your Chemistry final."

You look up and see him, standing in the doorway, staring at you. His eyes are tired, his hair is a mess, and he looks like he's hung over. You don't even want to know where the hell he's been for the past day.

"Rafe," you breathe, hopping up from your bed.

You want to throw your arms around him, hug him, and have you hold him. He stops you when you get close to him, holding out his hand to keep distance between the two of you, which practically breaks your heart in two.

"You're not coming home until you take that test," he repeats, "You've been studying for it and if you don't take it, you fail. So, you're staying. I called your dad."

You frown. This is not how you imagined it. He seems colder somehow.

"Okay," you say, "Fine. But I want us to talk."

Rafe shakes his head, leaning against the doorframe. Alex walks up behind you, whispering she will be back later, and leaves with a quick smile to Rafe.

"I'm giving you your space so you can focus. We'll work on us when you're done with the semester."

He sounds firm, but you know you can win this one. You step forward, so close that he can almost feel your skin on his. Your scent fills the air, and you watch as he swallows his feelings.

"Rafe," you say, your voice soft, "I can't focus on anything knowing that I hurt you. I need to talk about us and figure things out. Please."

"Baby," he sighs, and you know you've won just by the return of your nickname. It's your favorite, which is why he calls you it so often.

"Please," you say, taking his hand. Your fingers wrap through his, pulling him inside.

He groans but enters anyway, both of you knowing that he would do anything for you. The door closes behind him, which you're thankful for. You sit him down on your bed and instantly crawl onto his lap, not caring if that's what he wants or not. That's what you need. Your head buries into his chest and your arms wrap around his neck.

"Baby," he says again, this time with more authority.

You bring your lips up to his neck to soften him up, listening to the small moans that come out of his mouth as you work.

"Rafe," you say against his skin, "I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday."

He hums, so you give him a few more kisses on his neck before you pull back to look at him. He stares at you with soft eyes, and you know you've already won him over. But you still need to say what you need to say.

"Truly, baby. I was wrong. I was angry. You are all I want in this world and I couldn't handle any of this without you. I was acting extremely ungrateful and I'm really, really sorry," you continue, watching him smile sadly at you.

"Well," he smirks, moving his hands from your back down to your butt, "I've always known you're a brat, so."

"Hey," you pretend to pout, but really, you just want a kiss. He gives you a slow, gentle one, one that makes you want to melt into him.

"You are the love of my life," he says, "You could never say anything to make me walk. And I'm sorry for being such a dick yesterday and for not respecting your school. I'm gonna get better. This shit is just hard for me, having you all the way here. I just miss you when I'm home."

You nod, reaching up and brushing his hair away from his eyes with your fingers. Even when he hasn't showered, is in the same clothes as yesterday, hasn't styled his hair or even slept well, he still is the most handsome to you.

"I understand. I'm sorry for being so hard on you," you say, kissing him on the cheek.

He smiles against your lips, bringing his hands up to your face to move you down to his lips.

"Are we okay?" he asks you in between kisses.

You hum against his lips, and he takes that as a yes, so he flips you over and lays down on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. He quickly moves down to your neck, his hands going underneath your shirt.

"Oh, my God, I missed you, baby," he tells you as you feel him leaving a hickey on your neck.

"Always marking me up," you laugh at him, feeling him smirk against you, "I missed you, too."

"It killed me not calling you back," he continues against your neck, "But I wanted to do right by you, you know?"

You gasp when he bites you slightly, then laugh when you feel his big grin on your neck.

"That's why I love you the way I do," you say sweetly.

He sits up and looks down at you, smirking widely, "Can you love me like you do right now and then get back to your studying?"

You bite your lip and nod, pulling him back down on top of you.

A little while later, you and Rafe lay naked in your bed, just breathing in the other. Rafe is drawing hearts into the skin on your stomach, leaving little kisses every so often on any inch of skin he could reach with his mouth.

"You need to get back to studying," he says, but doesn't stop with his kisses.

"Can I have my ring back first?"

He looks up at you with wide eyes, wondering if you really mean it. He didn't want to bring up the ring, just in case you had changed your mind about the engagement.

"You sure?" he asks quietly.

You grab his chin and pull him up to you, stroking his hair as you give him a couple quick kisses.

"I've never been more sure of anything," you tell him.

He nods and kisses you again, then hops off the bed and pulls the ring out of the zipped up pocket of his shorts. He grins at you and then jumps back in bed, of course landing on you when he does.

"This is a twin bed, you ogre. You can't be jumping and shit, there's not enough room for you!" you say as you try to free your left side from underneath him.

He moves and lets you get situated, then holds out the ring. You hold up your left hand for him ti put it on you once again.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, and you would've laughed at him if his voice wasn't so gentle and nervous.

"Of course I will, Rafe Cameron," you tell him, smiling.

He slides your ring back on your finger and you somehow feel more complete, more whole, knowing it's there.

"It's never coming off again," you tell him, meaning it.

He kisses you softly, "No, it's not."

Rafe takes a shower and then hangs out on your bed on his phone later on to keep himself occupied while you study for Chem at your desk. You ask him to quiz you and he does, even though he knows nothing about Chemistry.

It gets late, so you tell him you'll study the rest tomorrow and hope to be prepared the following day for the exam. You put your book and notes on your desk, then slide into bed with Rafe, who you made stay with you tonight. Although it didn't take much convincing.

"I can't believe your dad is just letting you take all this time off," you mumble against his chest.

"Hmm," Rafe hums, so you know you're wrong, "I've kinda been dodging his calls."

"He'll be mad," you tell him, and he nods.

"I don't care, though. I got what I came here for."

You spend all day the next day studying in the library for Chem and writing your paper, while Rafe packs your things for you. He figures it's one less thing for you to worry about, and then you can just come with him after you finish your exam. He had told you he wanted to be the one to bring you, his soon-to-be wife, home.

Rafe waits for you outside your building on exam day. One by one, students file out of the building, and he gets even more anxious every time you aren't one of them. Eventually, he stops pacing and sits down on a bench, praying that you do well.

He sees you emerge from the building with only ten minutes to spare, and jumps up to greet you.

"So?" he asks, his voice hopeful.

"I won't know for a few days," you tell him, "But I'm confident. I felt like I had most of it under control."

He smiles, taking your hand in his and kissing it, "I'm so proud of you, baby."

You smile and thank him, then put your head on his chest in hopes that he'll wrap his arms around you. With the amount of stress you've been under the past few days, all you want is just for him to hold you right now.

"I'm so proud of you," he repeats, swallowing you up in his arms.

You breathe in his scent and relax, knowing that even if you fail every class you ever take for the rest of your life, you will always have a place in the arms of this boy.

After a few minutes, you move to look up at him by resting your chin on his sternum, staring up at him. He smiles down at you, running a hand through your hair as an attempt to calm you down.

"Take me home, Rafe," you tell him quietly, and he nods.

He reaches down and takes your hand, leading you away from the building. You two go back and grab the remaining items you need to bring home, the rest Rafe already packed in the truck, and then go out to the parking lot to head home.

You feel relieved, ready to spend some quality time with Rafe and really make sure to work on things so that nothing ever gets bad between the two of you again.

He puts you into the truck and closes your door, then hops into the driver's side. He reaches over and takes your hand, staring at the ring on your finger and smiling softly.

"Let's just elope and get it over with," he looks up at you, already laughing because he knows you'll never agree.

"Yeah, I'm glad our wedding is something you just wanna get over with," you roll your eyes, but can't help your smile.

"You know what I mean," Rafe groans, "We don't need all the bullshit and the drama. I just need you. And a minister."

You laugh at him and nod, understanding what he means. He looks down at your hand in his, at the diamond on your finger, and so do you. You honestly can't remember why you took it off, you just know you never will again.

"A small wedding it is," you whisper.

He leans over and gives you a kiss. Then another. Then another. He pulls away and starts the truck, then looks back over a you.

"Baby, I'll do whatever you want."

That sentence combined with the cheesy smile he gives you afterward is what convinces you that, no matter what, Rafe will always be yours, and you will always be his.

Tags: @cmrxac

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orikoaurora · 4 years ago

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Can Palestinian Lives Matter?

“Palestinians don’t exist,” they said. With time this moment would blur, but not fade, mingling with innumerable interactions in which strangers would likewise inform me of my nonexistence. In that moment, though, it was a wholly new experience. I felt the brief flicker of a laugh before the sick sense of outrage landed in my gut. Before I could find the words to respond, the accuser was gone.

How strange, to tell a living, breathing human being, to their face, that they are “unreal.” And what would be the proper defense? How does one reply to a delusion?

Because something happens at the mention of that word Palestinian. In the moment it is uttered.

Palestinians as a people, are visible but rarely seen. We do not “exist” as others do; we have neither a formal country nor any economic or military power to speak of. We have a history and culture, but these are eroded and appropriated more with every passing year. Mostly, we are collectively obscured by what people think they know, what they think we are: threats, troublemakers, terrorists.

This is how we can be in so many headlines and yet die such endless deaths. We die, in part, because that is what the world expects of us. Our name is invoked only in connection to brutality and strife, which are presented as inevitable, our natural state. Reports read like weather reports: The “climate” “heats up” then “boils over” into “another wave of violence.” Our casualties are like the seasons — a crop of dead every few years, usually in Gaza.

All this because we are among the world’s disposable people. What kills us is not only Israeli state violence but the international community’s collective failure to imagine us as human beings. It is the same failure that has allowed so many Black bodies to be murdered in the broad daylight of viral videos, with so little systemic change. As Elizabeth Alexander has written, “Black bodies in pain for public consumption have been an American national spectacle for centuries.” With such a violent collective memory, it’s no wonder white Americans have been so egregiously slow and equivocal in responding to anti-Black violence. For who is more visible in the U.S. than a Black person? Yet who is the most seldom seen?

This is the lethal contradiction that generations of Black intellectuals and activists have worked to dismantle. The “problem of the color line,” as W.E.B. DuBois called it, will only be solved when the U.S., as a whole, grasps the full humanity of Black people, who have been systematically dehumanized. There can be no going forward, in short, until the U.S. internalizes the most basic truth that Black Lives Matter.

In this way, the U.S. and Israel confront a similar moral failing: Years of intentional disenfranchisement, abuse of and theft from a people in the name of another group’s supremacy — in one case, under the banner of whiteness, and in the other, Zionism. Both have gambled on their ability to suppress these peoples’ efforts to resist their oppression, through the means of mass incarceration, state violence, and legal discrimination. And both have seen that even the most brutal crackdowns cannot squelch the human spirit forever.

Black Americans has shown us, again and again, that they will not allow themselves to be made unreal — and this last year, many more people seemed to listen. For Black Americans who routinely face state violence, the murder of George Floyd was tragically unsurprising. Yet this particular death seemed to penetrate the larger American imagination, managing, somehow, to puncture the gloss of indifference with its sheer visceral force, its specificity. Floyd was seen as an individual, a human being, and his name became a movement. “Black Lives Matter” had a resurgence, thanks in part to the sudden recognition by white Americans of a particular Black life, and death.

Palestinians were quick to respond to the George Floyd movement, protesting in solidarity, drawing parallels between their own experiences of mass incarceration, militarized law enforcement, legal discrimination, knees on civilian necks. Floyd’s face decorated stretches of the Israeli barrier wall, alongside murals of Palestinians killed by Israeli police and soldiers, including Iyad Hallaq, an unarmed man with autism, shot on his way home from school. Floyd’s death also prompted discussions in the Palestinian and wider Arab communities about their own anti-Blackness. This internationalism is not new: For years, Palestinian activists have looked to the American civil rights movement, the South African struggle against apartheid, and others for inspiration. They have also offered their solidarity and support to movements abroad, including the Standing Rock protests and other efforts for Indigenous rights.

Perhaps something, this time, will be different. With the newfound skepticism of law enforcement and incarceration wrought by the George Floyd movement, many in the “woke” world seem to have found resonance with the scenes of Palestinian civilian protests throughout the territories and Israel, launching marches of their own around the globe. Perhaps, after a year in which the words “decolonization” and “intersectionality” have become memes, in which social media has become a streamlined highway for outrage and mobilization, this “clash” will be recognized at last for what it is: a fight for the Palestinian right to be human.

Such a shift would be a breakthrough: Just as the U.S. will remain haunted until Black lives are fully, truly, and equally valued, there can be no peace in Israel-Palestine until all the lives involved are reckoned with as human. Such a reckoning is understandably terrifying for nations built on the systematic denial of certain humanities, but there is no other way. And if the last year has taught us anything, it is that no odds can outmatch the individual’s need for dignity.

“The myths of self-defense” — Israel’s — “and both sides are becoming more and more penetrable,” Mohammed el-Kurd, whose family is facing forced displacement from their home in Sheikh Jarrah, said in a CNN interview this week. “People are being able to see through these myths and call an occupation for what it is and an aggressor for what it is.”

And perhaps, too, they will begin to see us.

#free palestine #gazaunderattack #palestinian lives matter #savesheikhjarrah #free gaza #save palestine #plm #black lives still matter #palestine #freepalestine

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kalinawtokilig · 4 years ago

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S/O who sleeps (too much) in the oddest of places

Ohh, being tired 24/7. I feel ya,,

((My formats will be a bit a different as I’m experimenting which feels and looks best, so bear with me))

- Y a s . My five favorite characters of haikyuu. yes. I agree. -

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Pair(s): Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader, Suna Rintaro x Reader, Tendou Satori x Reader, Yachi Hitoka x Reader & Sugawara Koushi x Reader

Summary:

You are the type of person to either have pulled so many all nighters that fatigue has finally caught up to you and the backlash is very intense, or you are such a sleepy person you’ll take a nap anywhere, anytime. It had cause inconvenience sometimes, such as having to keep the storage closet in school locked to prevent you from sleeping and being locked in, or skipping some classes to doze off. But thankfully your partner was able to help and spot you in time before anything off happens.

Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

((Ughhh, I love and pimp,,, I canNOT express that enough))

Iwaizumi knows his S/O can be such a sleepy babe

He wants you to be careful where you decide to rest

One time he wondered where you were, as he hasn’t found you in your class nor has his friends saw you in lunch

He usually visits you to check up on you, to see if you’re okay, if you got enough sleep, or if you ate

He!! Is!! Concerned!! for !! your wellbeing!!

With school ending and no practice today, Iwaizumi was eager to see you and walk you home, maybe even order takeout while watching a movie or something. When he said goodbye to his friends, he grabbed his scarf and jacket, heading to your classroom.

“Ah, Iwaizumi-kun.” One of your friends say, seeing him walk through the door and scanning the classroom. “If you’re looking for (Y/N), we haven’t seen them in a while. Last time we did it was the first few classes, then they left.”

Nodding in thanks, Iwaizumi decides to keep texting you, until you answer. But you didn’t. Which meant you kept your phone at do not disturb again OR your phone died. Again. You probably used it to listen to the newest podcast and went straight to school without sleeping a wink.Furrowing his brow, he grunted in frustration. “Where can they be?”

He thought for a moment.

‘Not in the storage closet, the janitor now locks it cause they kept finding (Y/N) in it. In the locker room? No, I got a text from one (Y/N)’s friends that they didn’t go to P.E.’

Then it clicked.

“(Y/N) better not be up there, it’s fucking freezing-”

Speed walking down through the hallways and up the stairs until he reached the rooftop, he slammed open the door and he looked around, circling the entrance, he sighed with relief.

You were napping against the back of the entrance building, a fluffy blanket and his hoodie that you were wearing to keep yourself extra warm. Not to mention you also layered his hoodie with his VBC jacket. You were lying in fetus position, your bag serving as a pillow as you snored softly, blanket pulled up to your nose.

You look so precious.

‘Snap out of it, Hajime! They could’ve gotten sick! They can’t sleep here any longer!’

Crouching down, he nudges your temple with the curl of his index finger. He’s not surprised that your skin was cold, the tint of pink on your cheeks and nose tell him how cold your face was.

“Baby, wake up.” He speaks quietly, still rubbing the crook of his finger against your temple.

Humming as your eyes flutter open, you sneezed, sniffing as you smiled in a daze to your lovely boyfriend. “Hallo, Hajime. What’re you doing up here?”

He pouted a bit, now his face is tinted red. “Idiot, I was looking for you. You haven’t been answering your phone, did your phone die again?”

You snuggled deeper into his jacket, looking so soft and cozy. Your boyfriend is practically dying inside from how cute you are. “Mm. I think so? M’not sure.”

“C’mon, let’s go home. You slept until school was over, dumbie.” He brought his hand close to you, sneaking out from the blanket, your warm hand grab his cold one, and he pulled you up, picking up your bag and then wrapping the fluffy blanket around your body.

“When we get to your place can we sleep? You’re so warm, Hajime.” You shift closer to him, snuggling against the crook of his neck.

He chuckled, ruffling your hair despite your annoyed, tired, protests. “Of course we can bubs. But you got to do your homework.”

You hummed again, softly this time. “I did it already. I can give you the answers if it means you’ll sleep with me.”

Iwaizumi sputtered, “W-Watch what you’re saying, dumbass! You can’t just say that to anyone!”

Hugging him, the fluffy blanket still covering you and engulfing him, you smiled slyly, “That’s why I’m saying it to you, babes.”

“Idiot, l-let’s go.”

“Eager, aren’t ya?”

“...Shut up.”

((Yes. Give me all of Iwaizumi Hajime. Yes. I agree.))

Suna Rintaro x Reader

((Look at him. LOOK AT HIM. Icant---))

Suna probably either does get enough sleep or he doesn’t, there’s no inbetween

Sometimes he does, cause he’s so tired from practice and collecting blackmail from the Miya twins fight

and there are times he doesn’t that you have to pick him up from class cause not even the loudest Miya twin can wake him up

That’s cause Suna trained himself to tune out Atsumu HA

But in reality, I feel like Suna is a light sleeper and if you were to wake him up, he’ll be like, “Wassup, babe?” In the husky ,,, tone,, aARYUFVAOR

He does usually need to find you, cause he does get concerned where you sleep

During gym class, you decided to fall asleep underneath the bleachers. You weren’t dead tired, but you had a big exam for three of your classes. Three tests take up a lot of mind power and studying consumes days and nights of good sleep. Thankfully, Suna had let you wear his VBC jacket today, cause he knows how cold it can be in the gymnasium.

By the time gym class ended, lunch rolled around and Suna had texted you that he was coming over to your homeroom so he can pick you up and eat with him and the twins.

Arriving at your classroom, he looks around and sees that you weren’t there. Asking your seat mates, they reply to him that they haven't seen you since gym class. Blinking at them, he nodded and left. Pulling out his phone, he checked your snapchat and you posted nothing. Swiping up, he sees that you’re still in school, but it doesn’t exactly say where, only that you’re in the Eastside.

Gym.

You’re still in the gymnasium.

He knew that you were busy studying for the three tests that he came to the conclusion that you didn’t get enough sleep, which meant you’re sleeping somewhere in the gym.

Going to your locker cubby, he opened it to see that you haven’t even brought lunch with you. Except two juiceboxes. Taking them out, he headed back to his class and picked up his own bento.

“Where ya goin’ Suna? Aren’t ya s’ppose to eat with (Y/N)?” Osamu asked.

“Hm. I will. Gotta pick’em up.” He replied.

“Good luck findin’ them then.”

“Thanks, ‘Samu.”

Suna casually walked to the gymnasium, taking long stride to get there at a shorter time. (Curse them... and their tallness)) Entering, he decided to call you. Then he heard the small ringtone you set up for him, the ‘bunny-senpai theme’ something like that. Following the sound of it, he stood in front of the bleachers in confusion. The ringtone was coming from there but you weren’t on the bleachers. Walking to the side, he heard the ringing become louder. Peeking from behind, he shone his phone light and saw a figure sitting against the wall.

Snorting, he entered into the small cave and sat next to you, seeing as you were about to fall forward, he debated on either recording you fall flat on your face, probably groan and go back to sleep, or, he cannot do that.

Being the good boyfriend he is, he placed his hand on your forehead, pulling it gently towards him, having you lean against his shoulder. He decided to take a photo, only for him and your eyes, adding it to his album of you two together. The album was called ‘Finding (Y/N)’, which was dedicated to you being found in the oddest parts of school and Suna finding you. You were mainly asleep in most of them, since that’s why he named it after you because of the places you sleep in or on.

Last time he found you sleeping on one of the library tables, far back where all the bookshelves hide that table and other forgotten books.

Throwing up a peace sign, a certain angle showing both him and you, he captioned it, ‘Underneath the bleachers :P’

Somehow the flash of the screen camera made you stir, waking up, you lazily blinked.

Suna turned to you, kissing the top of your head. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Nice nap?”

Sighing, you nuzzled against his shoulder. “S’cold, Rin.” You muttered. Opening his bento, he picked up some meat and popped it into his mouth, talking with his mouth full he replied, “S’cause you’re wearing shorts, babe.” He draped his hand over your exposed legs, patting them softly and then pulling it onto his own. “Where’s your sweats?”

“Mn, I’unno. Must’ve put’em in the laundry. Or something.” You said, going back to sleep until you sniffed your boyfriend’s lunch. Tired eyes shooting up, you rub your head against Suna. “Can I have please?”

Chewing rice, Suna picked up a piece of spice pork and offered it to you.

Taking a bite, you mewled at how good it tastes.

“Nice hiding place, by the way.”

“Thanks, bubba.”

((Omg,,,, I fuckin LOVE HIMMMM))

Tendou Satori x Reader

(AUYROVARFOYVARFOY YES,,,, I SIMP AND PIMP ))

OHHH what an energetic boi *cue puppy eyes uwu*

When he sees you napping he finds it sooo cute!!!

He can’t help but coo and call you the cutest nicknames for you to wake up too

“Peach” - “Jellal to my Erza” - “Beloved” - “Sweetcheeks” etc etc YUGFOEUYFGOUYEFV I LOVE TENDOU!!!!!

Shiratorizawa is a big school

He usually wants you to go straight to your dorm or his dorm so you can nap, but he does want you to text him so he can see you and plop down next to you so you can nap together <3

If he can’t nap, he’ll read manga next to you be enveloped by your body warmth

When you forget to text him AND you’re not in either dorm, you know he’s gonna f i n d y o u

out of love, ofc <3

At the end of practice, Tendou headed to his dorm, ready to shower and change into comfier sweats. Opening the door and dropping his bag to the side, he noticed there wasn’t a familiar lump on his bed. Shrugging, he took a quick shower and changed into warmer clothing. Drying his hair with a towel, he sat down on his bed and checked his phone.

“Ara, (Y/N) isn’t in their dorm. Good thing their roomie is there. Time to find my sunshine~!” Standing up, he pocketed his phone and closed his door. He could use the snapchat app, but he always like a challenge. Checking your reoccurring and unusual sleeping spots, he had found that you weren’t there at any of them.

Humming, he had overheard from your classmates as he passed the hallways that they haven’t seen you after lunch. Like the good partner he is, he remembers your schedule. Since you had some of the same breaks, he made sure to drop by and wake you up so you can eat. He does find it worrisome that you like to sleep a lot that you forget to eat sometimes, but he doesn’t mind if that means he gets to see you more often! And talking about remembering schedules, he would sometimes pull you out of class so both of you can go into one of your hiding spots and catch up on whatever you wanted to talk about.

Tendou loves hearing about your dreams. You tell him you have the weirdest and coolest anime-esque dreams when you’re at a specific place in school, saying it ‘Awakens your dream eye’. He indulges on it, saying that maybe one of your dreams can become a really cool manga idea, so he decided to help you keep your dreams consistent, doing research as in keeping a dream journal to continue the awesome dream you had, most of the time, you have your boyfriend on edge with how detailed your dreams can be.

“My angel, lil’puppy, light of my life, where can you be?” He sang out at the hallways, passing by students who stayed a bit late to continue their studies or help around the school by cleaning.

Stopping for a moment he recalled what your friend said;

“(Y/N) probably dozed off again. I haven’t seen them since lunch and before that, we had lab.”

Humming a made-up tune, he made his way to the lab reserved for the third-years, and as he slid open the door, he turned on the light and looked around. From checking to the storage closet and underneath the student’s desks he pouted a bit.

A light bulb went off in his redhead.

Going to the teacher’s desk and pulling away the swiveled chair, he bent down and smiled.

“Found you, (Y/N)-ba~by!”

You were sleeping soundly, your knees pulled up to your chest and Tendou’s VBC jacket being worn as it made you look so much more endearing.

“Wake up, you hibernating bear. Gotta get up before someone finds us.” He crawled close to you and he cupped his hand on your soft cheek, turning to pinch it. Eliciting a whine, you scrunched your nose and glared with your eyes closed.

“Open your eyes and time to rise! Satori is here to bring you back to your kingdom!” He teased, seeing that you started to stir, but your eyes are still closed. You held out your grabby hands and he pulled you into his arms.

“Must’ve been a nice dream to have you skip all of your afternoon classes and forget to text me. Why sleep here?” He asks as he smoothed out your hair, you caught his hand and nuzzle your face into his large palm, his heart doing everlasting flips as how adorable you are.

“Mm, kinda...superhero dream. S’a redhead antihero. Kinda lo’like you, Satori. He’s so cool, tryin’ ta change the system.” You replied a bit slurred, your eyelids opening half-way to stare lovingly at him.

With his lip wobbling and eyes smiling, he lightly rubbed his nose against yours, “Always the smooth talker, aren’t ya, love?”

(((I am dying. IWANT HIM IWANTAHIMMMMMM)))

Yachi Hitoka x Reader

((SYUFOYVFYYOYV YES I AGREE I LOVE HER I WANNNT HERR IM A GREEDY PERSON OKAY OMG LET ME SIMP IN PEACE JEEZZ)

The pretty girl worries to death

Yachi knows that you don’t sleep at night cause you’re too busy gaming

Last time she slept over at your place, she tried her best to stay up for you but she passed out, when she woke up, YOU WERE STILL AWAKE

Finds ways for you to sleep early so she won’t have to find you sleeping in the storage closet beside the folded chairs

Conflicted on not wanting to wake you up or waking you up so you won’t get in trouble

You look so peaceful when you’re sleeping! She really dislike waking you up :(

As practice rolled around, Shimizu-senpai asked Yachi to pick up some more chairs from the storage closet. As she walked there and opened the closet, she heard soft snoring.

She should know that it was you, but she was scared to move anything cause she doesn’t know exactly where you are sleeping on. Shuffling slowly, she peaked over some of the corners, reaching the blue mats, she saw the tuft of your hair at the opposite end. Climbing onto the mat, she crawled and looked down, seeing that you were sleeping in a cramped space.

‘How can (Y/N) be possibly comfortable?’

Your head was leaning against the stacked mats, knees pulled to your chest and arms crossed on your knees. Just as Yachi was about to reach and fix your hair, she squealed when you caught her wrist, pulling it down as her face was closely met with your tired eyes glaring at the person who tried to wake you up. Softening your stare, you smiled kindly, loosening the grip on Yachi’s wrist and kissing it from holding it a bit tight.

You were satisfied with the new color plastered on her face, a stuttering mess.

“(Y/N)! W-What’re you doing s-sleeping here?! Don’t you know how cramped it is? And dusty?” She asked, avoiding your gaze.

Humming, you rubbed the pad of your thumb against her soft wrist, “M’sitting on a spare towel. What’re you doing here?”

“I had to get chairs for practice.”

Groaning, with your other hand, you rubbed your temple. “I missed my last two classes. Damn.”

Yachi pouted cutely, “(Y/N), did you sleep at all?”

“I took a power nap. For five hours. Heh, don’t act so mad, buttercup. At least I got to wake up to you.” You flirted, snickering at how redder she became.

“D-Don’t do that! I’m trying to be mad at you! You know I worry about your health. An average teenager should try to at least sleep seven or eight hours!”

Sighing, you smiled at her with fondness, “I’m nocturnal, Hitoka. I sleep as much as possible when it’s the daytime. And I know for a fact that a student like you doesn’t sleep as much considering all the advanced class work can be a pain in the ass. Wasn’t it two nights ago you face timed me at two in the morning cause you were ready to set your homework on fire?” Smirking as you observed her sputtering for an explanation, you raised your hand and held the back of her head.

“I’ll fix my sleep schedule if you give me daily kisses, how about that? Would you accept my offer, princess?” Your lips ghosted her, you can practically feel how warm her face is.

Staring at her, she scrunched her brows and pursed her lips. “I don’t mind that proposal.” Yachi whispered.

Grinning, you straightened your back as Yachi willingly leaned down to tilt to the right and returned the kiss. Pulling away, you stuck out your tongue between your teeth with a successful smile.

“Since you’re awake, can you help me bring some chairs to the gym?”

((I’m dying. I’m dying. IM DYING))

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

((This man,,, goddamn,,, angels voice DEVILS WORDS))

Sugawara knows you love to sleep too much

He wonders if you hibernate in the winter

Makes jokes about you being bear,,, or a cat

Would sometimes invite you to his house or go over to your place so he can make sure you eat and remind you to do your homework

Babe loves to nap with you after practice!!

Snuggling into all the pillows and blankets you hoard

“I am in the cave of the hibernating honey bear”

“Koushi, go to sleep”

Sugawara knows how sleepy you are, so he doesn’t mind coming to your place and greeting you with kisses for you to wake up to. Even though practice ended late and Coach Ukai was pushing them a bit harder, Sugawara became a bit energized after showering and walking a bit faster to get to your place. After your first-year together, you decided to copy your house key and give it to him. Arriving to your place, he opened the door and knocked off his shoes, greeting your parent as they told him you were sleeping, as usual.

“I was lazy to cook, Sugawara-kun. So, I ordered you guys pizza and burgers. Knowing (Y/N), I know they would complain to me if I haven’t bought them fries either. It’s in the living room, so try to wake up that tired kid o’mine to eat. Went straight to sleep when they came home.” Your parent sighed, shaking their head at your behavior.

Sugawara chuckled. “I’ll bring them down, don’t you worry!”

“I’m positive you will. If it’s you and food, (Y/N) won’t mind at all.”

The teen went up the stairs and opened your door, switching the lights on as his eyes landed to the barricade of blankets and pillows that shifted a bit. Walking closer, he saw the small exposure of your facial features. Tearing away the blankets, he smiled as he leaned in to pepper your face with soft kisses. The apples of your cheeks, forehead, temples, nose, and lastly, your own lips.

Stirring, you slowly blinked.

“Good evening, Sugar. Did you sleep well?”

You grunted.

“Come downstairs, there’s food!”

Two hands shot out from the blankets as you held onto your boyfriend’s shoulders, pulling him down as he yelped.

“Koushi, you can’t use food against me. I was sleeping.” You said in a tired voice.

He turned to his side to look at you, lifting his finger and tracing your face, cheeks, nose, arch of your nose, and your lips. You took his hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. With half-lidded eyes, you watched underneath your lashes the pink hue on his face, even the mole near his eye was highlighted.

“You have to get up, (Y/N).” “Why.”

“So we can eat and watch anime!”

“Hmm.” You brought the hand you were holding close to your chest, “But I wanna stay here and hold you.”

Sugawara can be speechless at how flirtatious and bold you can be, even if it was unintentional. But he knows you, and he knows how to play this game.

Shuffling close, you can feel his body heat, “If you wake up, I can give you some of the answers to the homework. And hand feed you fries.”

Eyes fully awakened, you smiled cheekily, “You know me so well, Sugarplum.”

#sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #yachi hitoka x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #tendou satori x reader #tendou x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader

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goldeneyedgirl · 3 years ago

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TwiFicMas Day 8: Divorced Jalice

Time for an AH AU that is both angsty as hell and a romance because that's my drug of choice. // Means time-skip/new scene, whilst -- is just a chapter break.

And I know I haven't posted many requests yet - I've been so tired, and finally dragged myself to the clinic today to get diagnosed with 'sick', so I've been sleeping more than writing. They are all on my list, and I should be feeling better in a day or two <3

It takes five surgeries and six years.

It goes by so fast.

The scars are huge and obvious, heavy lines bisecting her chest, and are so hard to cover up. She’s died on the table more than once, and her doctors cannot believe she made it this far. That every single time she went back into the OR, the chance of her waking up - let alone to good news - got smaller and smaller.

But she did it.

It cost her everything though.

Her marriage.

Her friends.

Her job.

She used to hate that she was living off money from her family. That she hated them as much as they hated her, and it was cruel and unfair that this was the only option she had left.

Now she doesn’t care. It just… isn’t important. She’s alive and she’s got somewhere to live. She’s reached a place where she sends them a Christmas card and they send her one, and they still don’t talk. They just pay her bills.

Which is why she’s sitting in the park right now, sketching, instead of at work. The last surgery (her favourite words to say) was only a couple of months ago and her doctor doesn’t want her working yet - she’s too thin, too weak, and the doctor isn’t convinced she’s mentally ready to join the real world again.

The shrink’s number is still in her purse.

She pauses in her drawing to sip her drink, and look out at the people. God, she’ll never not appreciate being able to sit in a park with a ridiculous beverage and draw again. Fresh air. Noise. People.

“Alice?”

And when she looks up, she goes cold.

—

“Shit.”

That’s her response when her doctor explains, in gentle terms, what the tests have shown them.

It’s her heart. It’s broken. Very broken, in fact.

That explains a lot.

There needs to be surgery, immediately. Hopefully that will work; if it doesn’t, they’ll need to consider a transplant (her vision swims). But should it work, it will be the beginning of several surgeries, to piece her back together into something that will allow her to live out her life in peace.

It’s a lot, but the doctor is kind and the nurse helps her fill in the paperwork for her surgery and calls her a cab. She goes straight home to read all the literature they’ve emailed her about her poor heart, about what to expect and recovery and all the little things she can’t wrap her head around.

Jasper comes home from work late, smelling of booze and she feels very insubstantial at the moment, utterly powerless.

(She hates his job. Hates how much it eats away at him - so many hours, so many cases. He took it so they could have nice things, live a nice life in a nice apartment and she misses their shit-hole student apartment because at least he smiled and laughed and was with her. Now he’s never home, and he drinks way too much, and she knows he’s self-medicating, and she also knows he’s fucking his classmate from law school, the pretty one who joined the firm last year. He doesn’t know she knows. She pretends everything is fine, even when she finds lipstick on his collar, and receipts for dates he never takes her on.)

He nods at her, focused on his phone, and she wonders for a split second, if it would be so bad to cancel the surgery. To simply call it off and let the chips fall where they may. Let her die in her sleep, or collapse in the shower, or end up in an ambulance that turns off the siren halfway to the hospital.

That thought is ugly, and she pushes it away, closes all the reading she’s been doing on her tablet and orders dinner whilst he showers.

She goes to put the laundry away when she hears him on the phone. That low voice, that teasing, suggestive voice that she remembers. Promising to text her later, murmuring words that makes her chest hurt. She puts the laundry in the guest room instead.

She just feels sad.

They’re eating in front of the TV - Thai food she doesn’t even feel like - and he finally looks at her (he looks tired and thin) when he finally asks her about her day.

And the words are on the tip of her tongue. “I saw the doctor today. It’s bad, Jas - my heart. I’m having surgery next Friday. Then we’ll see where we stand.”

Instead, she looks up and smiles at him and the words that come out of her mouth are, “I’m moving out.”

—

She tries to soften the blow, tell him that she knows about Maria, has known for a few months and was waiting for him to tell her or end it or whatever. And that she’s not trying to make trouble, but he has to make a choice and she’s going to give him the space to make that choice. No ultimatums, just space.

(What would her ultimatums be? Dump Maria. Quit the damn firm. Do something he likes. Get some help for all the prescriptions and the drinking. Stop trying to find the next high, the next dopamine hit, and just have a life.)

It’s a really dumb thing to do, now. She’s going to need support, help. And she’s not just giving up her home, she’s giving up her friends. Jasper’s sister married Emmett, whose brother married her oldest friend, Bella. She’s the odd one out. She’s estranged from her family, has been since college - her husband and her friends were her family. She has a few work friends, a few old college friends, but no one who she can ask for help after major surgery. She’s going to have to find an apartment, too, and fast.

(She’s going to have to resign at work, which is a blow. But the magazine is small, they can’t handle having her on leave for up to four months. Better she confide in Carmen that she’s got health problems, needs to take some time off, and hope and pray that Carmen’s willing to rehire her if she lives. She’s already crunched the numbers - she’s got enough in savings to cover her living expenses for the first surgery, and she’s going to have to call her father to get access to the family trust. Her father may hate her, but he’d hate the blow to his reputation - should people find out that he wasn’t looking after her, in her hour of need - more.)

Jasper’s agitated, pacing; he’d hate being caught unaware like this. Before this, they talked things out. There would have been clues, discussions. He would have gone to the doctor with her, held her hand through the testing.

He throws questions at her, like he’s trying to catch her out, like it’s some kind of riddle or trick.

No, counselling seems pointless until he makes his choice.

No, she has no intentions of calling a lawyer any time soon.

No, she doesn’t expect him to pay for this.

No, she never snooped on his phone.

Yes, she’ll be the one to tell his sister and their friends, that this is her idea.

She’ll move out this weekend, and she’ll sleep in the guest room until then.

He shoots her looks of resentment and gets himself another beer, and she goes to bed.

(She decides to rewatch their wedding video on her phone, and cries herself to sleep.)

—

The message she sends to their friends and his family the next morning is simple - she’s moving out, it was her idea, and it’s just a trial separation. She’s never talked about their problems with the others, it seemed disloyal. They were always a team, a united front. They don’t know anything.

His sister calls a split-second later, right before her meeting with Carmen, and Rosalie is furious.

“It’s coming out of nowhere!”

“What aren’t you telling us?”

“Tell me the truth, Alice.”

(She imagines the words she wishes she could say to her sister-in-law; “I’m having heart surgery in just over a week, and I do not have the energy to face my own mortality and deal with ignoring Jasper’s affair, or his addictive behaviours at the same time. I’ve been trying to ignore it for months, and it’s just more than I can deal with right now, okay? I am tired, Rosalie.”)

She doesn’t blame Rose for painting her as the villain. For a very long time, the only person Rosalie had was Jasper, and they are so protective of each other that she needs him to be the victim in all of this. Besides, Rose isn’t stupid. She’s only delayed the reckoning that Jasper will face when it all inevitably comes out and Rosalie puts the pieces together.

Hopefully gets him some help.

The rest of the day isn’t so bad. Carmen is horrified for her, and immediately promises her a job when she’s well again. She doesn’t have the heart to point out if she’s very, very lucky it’ll be months. By then, Carmen will have hired someone new that she can’t bare to get rid of, I’m so sorry Alice. But it’s nice to know she’s that valued.

Her mother responds to the email she sent her father with two lines - “I’m sorry to hear that,” and the account numbers. It’s more than she expected - she only had to imply that he’d look like a terrible person if he didn’t help her, not outright threaten him.

It’s just a Tuesday.

He’s meeting Peter and Charlotte for lunch, then he’s got a late meeting. The job at the university library is… a brilliant new start. One of Emmett’s best ideas ever, honestly.

There’s a woman on the bench near the bridge, sitting cross-legged with a sketchbook on her legs, and sipping on a bright green drink. It’s only when she looks up that he realises.

It’s Alice.

His Alice. Alice who moved out and disappeared. He’d seen her once since she’d moved out, at the lawyer’s office to finalise the divorce. She’d been quiet, and she’d slid her rings across the table after she’d signed the paperwork. He’d stared at her, wide-eyed, and she’d offered him a tiny smile.

“They were your mother’s, Jas,” she’d said, and that had been that.

He’d put them in his pocket, and immediately gotten completely shit-faced, and told Rosalie he’d made the biggest mistake of his life signing those papers. That she was the goddamn love of his life and he didn’t know how to exist without her. Rose had given him coffee and told him to sober up; he couldn’t force Alice to stay married to him, and it wasn’t his fault she left.

Except it was, and everyone learnt that two months later when he introduced them to Maria and Maria made a few comments and Rosalie had put it all together at the table, her rage building to something enormous and obvious when she realised.

“I owe Alice the most enormous fucking apology. There isn’t a bunch of flowers big enough that I can send her,” she had spat at him afterwards. “You were having an affair?”

He’d gotten angry (too much to drink, again), and they’d stormed off and not spoken for a week. And then Rose had called, demanding Alice’s new number, because her phone had been shut off. Demanded an address to apologise to her friend.

But he didn’t have any of that information. Even on the divorce paperwork, all her details redirected to her lawyer’s office. And that had made things worse, and he’d snapped at Rosalie because of the rising feeling of dread that Alice could vanish in such a way. That she could just cease to exist in his world so easily.

And now she was here.

He’s walking towards her before he realises, and calls out her name.

She jumps when she hears her name, and looks up and she’s still beautiful, but so thin - she has to be smaller than she was back in high school. She’s positively gaunt.

“Jasper!” she looks surprised and straightens up, and it’s then that he sees the scar peeking out from the top of her dress, running from the very base of her throat downwards. It’s still pink and quite new, and that makes him want to grab her and demand to know what happened to her.

But she doesn’t owe him that. She doesn’t owe him anything. He’ll consider himself lucky if she doesn’t throw her drink in his face.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, standing over her. She’s wearing a black sundress that’s a size too big, and enormous sunglasses. “I mean, it’s been a long time.”

“It has. How are you?”

The question is innocuous. Except it’s been six years, and he’s been sober for more than two, and single for almost five, and she closed down all her social media when she left, so it’s not like she’s been following what’s been happening. He sold the apartment and the stupid car, and quit that terrible job, and …

And she’s sitting here, emaciated and with a fresh scar, and he doesn’t know where she lives or what she’s doing or anything. She was his very best and closest friend, the love of his life, and he knows nothing.

Well.

He knows she’s too damn thin, and that she flirted with an eating disorder back in high school but managed to bring herself back from the brink. She’s definitely thinner now.

He knows how she used to drink her coffee - the biggest and strongest coffee over ice with vanilla cream, a cocktail of caffeine and sugar that she claimed kept her going. Not whatever green shit she’s sipping - she used to mock those trendy drinks.

He knows she’s not as relieved to see him as he is to see her.

“I’m… better,” he says honestly. “Can I sit?”

She nods and moves her bag, and he sits down next to her, careful to keep a polite distance.

She’s supposed to meet Jasper at the park, and they’re going to a movie.

She’s surprised to find him playing basketball with Emmett, but waves and takes a seat

Jasper is laughing as he peels off his shirt and she’s glad she’s got her sunglasses on because she’s turning red.

He’s gained muscle since she last saw him shirtless, and it’s a very good look for him.

So are the tattoos that wrap around his torso and down one arm. He’d always talked about getting one, before, but then he’d joined the corporate world and dismissed the idea. She wishes she’d bullied him into it now, because it suits him way too much, and her mind is wandering back to before the divorce, before her heart trouble, before when they were happy, and mentally envisaging him with tattoos, and ugh, she’s in so much trouble now.

(Shit. What a time for her sex drive to return. It hadn’t been an option or an interest for so long, and now she’s here, picturing her ex husband hovering over her with that grin that always meant she was going to have a really good time, her fingers tracing the lines of ink on his torso as he gives her his very best and shit, shit, shit. They’ve had this talk. She’s doesn’t want to go back to that place. She can’t. The only thing that she’s ready and willing to give is her friendship. And no matter how good he looks, and how good she knows he is, it won’t change her mind.

Except…)

#twilight renaissance #twilight fic #alice cullen #jasper hale #jalice #my fic: divorced jalice #AH AU #romance #drama #angst #they have a long road ahead of them #healing takes time #and trust has to be rebuilt

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years ago

Text

Mess We Made - second (m)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: arranged marriage au (not bbh), doctor AU, university AU (this chapter only), fluff, ANGST

Words: 12K

WARNINGS: language, unprotected sex, terrible family relations, stalking

Quick A/N: Goodness. This is long. I need to sleep! ENJOY! And thank you for patiently waiting ❤

tags: @byunfirstlady @blackon @puppyeoliepop @in3vitably3v3 @mangobaek @bobohumyonlyboo @wooya1224 @exortedgoods @gureuma ( if you want to be tagged/untagged please reply to this post)

>> A very special shoutout to @byunfirstlady because she rocks and deserves all the best! ><

parts: first -- second -- third -- fourth (last)

Mess We Made, part 2

Gentle puffs of hot air were hitting the shell of your ear as he was whispering something to you. The tip of his nose was poking you in the side of your cheek and you giggled, squirming away from him but his hand under your shirt and on your hip were preventing you from doing so.

“Where are you off to,” he whispered teasingly again, smiling widely as he bit your earlobe gently while his arm tightened around you. He wasn’t letting you squirm away that easily. “It’s too early.”

“You literally didn’t let us sleep the whole night,” you whispered back, still shimmying under his wandering hand. “It’s basically time to get up and my eyes are stinging from having no rest,” you pouted, blinking them a few times to prove a point. You were lying on your back while Baekhyun was propped on one elbow, hovering over you. Baekhyun’s shirt was the only piece of clothing on you. While he was completely naked, it seemed to be his second nature by now. After so much time together, his personality and preferences were more than familiar to you.

“Because I want to enjoy you as much as I can. And because I don’t want you to go,” he whined quietly and you giggled again, turning on your side to face him, hiding in his chest. “I really don’t want you to go, love. What do I do?”

You kissed his chest and looked up at him with a small smile. “I won’t go then.”

Baekhyun returned the smile but there was something in his eyes- that something giving you slight uneasiness. He was hesitating. Usually, he would immediately agree and it wasn’t like he had to beg you to stay; if anything, you had to beg him to kick you out because there was no way you would willingly leave his place and his warmth by your own choice.

“But I will have to go,” you added, verbalizing the sentence he secretly wished to hear but wouldn’t voice it. “Since my parents are waiting for me.” You didn’t give two damns about your parents. You really, really didn’t. But Baekhyun did. So you should, too.

Baekhyun caressed your hip bone, his hand sliding over your tummy where he tickled you, causing you to squirm once again under his touch. “I will meet you later, if you want,” he said, smiling when he saw your lips widely stretched in a silent laugh. “We can go to the coffee shop and be a little productive.”

You groaned, hiding your face in his chest again. Baekhyun let his hand slide over your back, enjoying the warmth your skin was emitting. “I don’t want to study. I want to cuddle you and kiss you and just feel you.”

Baekhyun’s chuckle was quiet but so handsome. He kissed your neck lovingly, puckering his lips three, four times. His lips were so smooth and soft; you wished you could stop the time now and live in the moment forever. “You felt me the whole night, didn’t you?” he rasped.

“Besides,” you added and leaned back a bit to look at his affectionate gaze. “We have some free time now before university starts.” His messy hair was falling over his eyes and you hummed, sliding your fingers through the strands, brushing them back and revealing his forehead. “Let’s make the most out of that. Just you and me.”

The air in the room felt warm. Whether it was from the activities you did the whole night or because you simply couldn’t not blush under his hooded eyes, you wouldn’t know. But when he leaned in to kiss you, unable to hold back any longer, you knew it was simply Baekhyun’s presence that was keeping you hot inside. With his hand on your naked skin, with his tongue teasing your lips or just a simple smile was what kept you burning hot, passion swallowing you and blinding you at the same time. If you were to keep walking, it was because of him. Thanks to him.

There were no cars parked in front of your house as you typed in the code for the tall wooden gate. Usually, there was some guest present but it was unusually peaceful. It almost made you excited because you naively believed your parents wouldn’t be home. Them not being home equaled time to yourself and more time to think through how you would approach the upcoming (dreader) discussion.

Stupid marriage, you thought unhappily as you entered the house. Making a beeline towards the kitchen, you were surprised yet again to find it empty. Wasn't it almost lunch time? Where were the maids? And the cooks?

It was all too strange which made you walk around, what was an obviously empty, house in order to find someone. Sure, your house was huge, and getting easily lost in it was a common issue for guests who were not hosted well, but this was beyond everything you expected.

Making the final decision to check your father’s office, you stopped in front of the sturdy wooden door. No sounds were coming from there, but the wood was too thick anyways. Clearing your throat gently, you opened the door and walked in the spacious room. It was also vacant, his chair turned to the side as if someone stood up from it in a hasty manner. Some documents were scattered around his otherwise well-organized table, so there wasn't anything out of ordinary until you felt a presence behind you, and you turned. You let out a shocked gasp when you saw your mother’s strict, emotionless face while standing straight with her arms crossed on her chest. She was, as per usual, well-dressed, her make-up one shade too light for her darker skin making her seem almost lifeless. You shuddered, but before you could react, she snapped.

“Do you like what you see? Empty house, no maids to run around you nor your family to welcome you?”

This time, you were really startled by her words. “What?”

“This is what will happen if you continue disobeying us, dear daughter. There won't be anyone to tend to your needs, no one to cook for you, to clean for you, not even me and your father will be there if you continue meeting that boy.”

You snorted, disbelief written all of your face as you sent daggers with your eyes. She dared to attack and mention Baekhyun again? “What is wrong with you-”

“Where were you last night until now?”

Scrambling to compose your still shocked state, you muttered: “You know where I was.”

She let out a humorless laugh and you noticed her jaw clenching. “What do you think you are doing? What were you even doing?” She reached out to the collar of your dress and yanked it sideways, revealing your collarbones along with your shoulder. Even though you didn't see exactly what she was looking at, you knew very well what she found there. You felt your heart jump in fear.

“Fooling around with him in bed?” she grumbled and snapped her cold eyes at you. “Letting him mark you? You little bitch.” The back of her hand landed with your cheek, the sting bringing tears to your eyes as your head snapped to the side, your hair covering half of your face from the strong blow. “How stupid must you be to be this irresponsible?!”

You held the abused cheek, biting your lip hard to prevent you from letting out a sob. You turned at her. “How dare you! I told you I will not comply and let that other man touch me-”

Her hand landed again on your cheek; the other one. “Wrong answer.”

You stepped away from her before she could hit you again, now letting the tears fall from your eyes. “You're crazy, mother,” you whispered, “you and father are both crazy.”

“That other man is your future husband,” she seethed, making a menacing step closer to you which prompted you to step back. “And he won't accept you cheating behind his back with some kid-”

“Stop talking about him like he is a no one!” you screeched loudly, losing your calm, surprising your mother and yourself in the process. Seeing your mother was finally silenced, you added: “He is the one I love, mum! I already said I will marry the guy, but you cannot take Baekhyun away from me! He is the only good thing I have in my life,” you cried. Your tears were scorching hot on your already reddened cheeks, just like Baekhyun's warmth that you were supposed to leave behind.

“The only good thing?” she repeated, disgusted. “After everything we have provided for you - you always had food and luxury! The least you can do to repay us is to do as we say!” she shouted, swishing her hands in the air. “I didn't even tell you off when you kept bringing bad grades home. I didn't bother. After all, you went to a useless, regular high school with no reputation. But right now, when I am telling you to do as I say, you decide to go against me?! I won't tolerate it! You will break up with him, and you will marry Mr Kwon. I made arrangements already, and he won’t impregnate you until you are done with university.”

Your gasp was loud, overwhelming the both of you, but your mother was faster to brush it off and continue with her nonsense. Her words were like a cut of a dagger; precise, because she knew your weak points, and very painful, because her goal was to wound you and eventually destroy you, leaving you in pain that would make you surrender to her orders.

“Impregnate?” you finally let out, voice trembling. “What the actual hell! I TOLD YOU. I am not letting him touch me.”

“Well,” she pressed an ugly, wrinkly smile, “you will have to. We need an heir. A boy.”

Sick. You were sick to your stomach at the idea of Mr Kwon smiling at you, let alone touch you at your most private parts and let him take you. The idea was maddening, and you desperately wanted to pull at your hair, hoping it would be a good enough sign for your mother to understand you didn't want to be part of an arranged marriage.

“Mum,” you whimpered finally, letting more tears fall as you connected your hands in front of your chest, pleading. “Mum, please. Don't do this. I will… I will do anything else you want me to, but please… You can't simply let him sleep with me.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You're acting as if you haven't been bedded already,” she said through gritted teeth. She was so disgusted by you, you couldn't help but take the hurt. Family was supposed to support you, be warm and kind and helpful, but her and your father were anything but. However, it never ceased to hurt you; the way she looked impersonal towards you, and right now, disgusted. As if you were some trash; someone unworthy of love and understanding.

“Please,” you whispered, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Wash up,” she grumbled resolutely before her eyes fell on the still exposed shoulder, “and hide that stupid mark with some make-up. Mr Kwon will be over for dinner-”

“NO!” you screeched, stomping your foot. “I WILL NOT MEET HIM!”

“Unless you want me to beat you up until your pretty-for-nothing face is marked just like he marked your neck, then I advise you to go. Wash. Up.” She turned around and walked away with resolute steps.

There was a crack within you; it literally felt like a knife slashing through your weak organ that was your heart.

“You’re cruel, mother!” you shouted after her, despite her not paying you any more attention, and you ran out of the office and up the wide staircase that would lead you to the only place you could hide in. Your room.

Shaky hands grabbed at the hair tie, yanking it out of your hair and throwing it across the spacious room. It was followed by your dress, also thrown to the other side while you stomped to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you. Its surface was cold on the skin of your naked back as you slid down, sobbing.

How many times have you been in this position already? How many times have you cried like this, despair pooling in the pit of your stomach, hoping, praying that things would somehow magically turn over and you’d feel some sort of relief? That relief never came and your misery would only worsen. Maybe it was exactly because of your high hopes, you thought as your sobbing slowly ceased, leaving you with only quiet whimpers and a throbbing headache. Maybe it was because, at the end of the day, you’d have Baekhyun who would bring out all the best and kindest and the most positive parts out of your suffering soul.

The thought of him made you only weep again, but you became determined as well. For him, you’d do anything. Anything.

He said to obey.

And you would.

Just before the main guest would arrive, your mother pushed a familiar pink gift bag into your hand. “You didn’t even open this ever since you decided to grace us with your presence,” she pressed through her gritted teeth, holding back from raising her voice. As much as she wished to smack you, she also didn’t want to cause a ruckus just before Mr Kwon would arrive. She needed you to look your best, which you did. “Open it and make sure to mention the gift,” she ordered and took a sharp look-over at your dressed up figure.

As promised, you hid all the hickeys Baekhyun left on you blinded by his passion and desire last night. The polite black dress was hugging your curves just in the gentlest ways, not too much but still leaving a good image of what you were hiding underneath. The colour of your stockings was of your skin, but with a glistening touch, making your legs look more desirable. Hair politely combed, wavy at the ends and tucked behind your ears. Perfect.

“Finally you know how to dress up properly to your age,” mumbled your mother. When you didn’t respond and averted your gaze to the ground, she hesitated before heaving out a sigh. “He’ll be here soon,” she turned around to leave your room. “Prepare.”

You were surprised when your mother shut the door quietly behind herself, giving you the necessary time to actually get ready and collect your thoughts.

The bag, just as yesterday, felt heavy in your fingers and you decided to finally take out the small, cream-coloured box, most probably promising a pricey gift. Sitting down at the edge of your bed, you quickly opened it to find a pretty set of earrings and a necklace. Earrings consisted of two pearls while the necklace was a simple silver necklace with a single pearl in the middle.

Noticing their unusual shape, you could tell right away that they were real pearls. Each piece of irregular shape made the actual stone throw all kinds of colors of the rainbow. It was beautiful, it really was, but not something you’d expect from someone you had never met. It strengthened the idea that what was about to go down in the future was, in fact, real. He was pursuing you.

Sighing tiredly, you felt your eyes burning up once again but was abruptly stopped when your phone vibrated on the vanity where you left it. Quickly moving to take it, you instantly smiled when you saw Baekhyun’s picture and his caller ID on display.

“Baby,” you sighed breathily, eager to hear his voice.

First you heard his handsome chuckle before he spoke: “My princess. Just wanted to check on you. I told you to text me once you’re home,” he scolded gently.

You bit your lip before quickly releasing it, remembering you had lipstick on. “Sorry I got… busy,” you murmured eventually. Not sure whether to tell him about the dinner, you decided to keep quiet. If he heard your uncertainty, he’d know something was up right away.

He hummed. “There was no trouble, right?” His voice was careful, hesitant. He always trusted you but he also knew you would lie if he asked.

You lied anyway. “Of course. You know I’m not that easily breakable, right? There is no need to worry, Baekhyun.”

He sighed. “I always worry about you.” And about your family hurting you. He kept that to himself though. “But as long as I hear your voice and know your fine, it’s more than enough.”

You closed your eyes, desperately wishing you could be with him, in his bed, while he studied and you’d observe him. Anything would be better than the situation you were in now. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” he was fast to reply. “Always. I missed you even before you left this morning.”

You giggled, covering your mouth even though no one saw you. “I’ll gladly sneak out tonight.”

“No. Stay home. Don’t want you getting into trouble-“

“You know I’d do it even with you disapproving.”

“Oh, I know you would, sweetheart. I know.”

“I’d do anything for you, Baekhyun,” you whispered, “in a heartbeat.”

He was silent for a moment. You weren’t sure why he wasn’t replying, but then again, your words bore quite a powerful meaning. “And I’d do anything to protect you and keep you happy.”

Burning tears came to life when you heard his low voice, sending shocks down your body. “Then never leave me.”

Silence again.

“Baekhyun,” you muttered, “promise me you won’t leave me.”

Why wasn’t he replying as fast as he did just a few moments ago? Were you asking for too much? Were you crossing boundaries? That made you scoff. You and him had such a strong and intimate relationship, there was no space for any boundaries. Your relationship seemed to be limitless.

“I won’t leave you, love,” was his answer finally. “I love you too fucking much for me to leave you.”

“Then that’s enough,” you sighed shakily, knowing it was time for you to hang up and face the dreaded. “As long as I know you love me and won’t leave me, all will be well.”

The silence in the dining room was one of the worst things your life had put you through. The chewing sounds, clinking of the cutlery along with slurping were the only noises that you heard physically, while your mind was about to explode with your thoughts.

Mr Kwon was sitting directly opposite you, to your misfortune, while your parents were seated in their usual spots, your father being at the head of the table. It was almost the absolute end of you when the servers put octopuses on the table as the main dish. Shooting them a horrified glare, they could only widen their eyes at you, silently asking for your forgiveness when they knew octopuses made you puke your guts out. Just the sight triggered your gag reflex and you ended up swallowing the rice through the wrong pipe, causing you to start a spree of aggressive coughing. Definitely not lady-like.

“Oh my, look at you,” chided your mother who was next to you, tapping your back with good enough power. “You eat too fast, darling,” she said knowingly and when you turned to glare at her, she only chuckled, taking in your red face.

“Maybe have octopuses,” suggested Mr Kwon with a chuckle as he reached for one right away. “They certainly won't make you suffocate.”

Your presence alone is suffocating enough, you thought bitterly but made sure to break a smile to show respect even though it was killing you. Quickly reaching for a jar with water, you wanted to pour yourself some very much needed liquid when you saw the man's hand in your line of vision, and he poured you water.

“Eat carefully, miss,” he murmured, giving you the slightest of honest smiles.

You bowed your head in gratitude before gulping down. It gave you the relief you desperately seeked, but the sight of the octopuses was creating an uncomfortable bulge in your stomach.

“So, now that we enjoyed the main dishes, we shall talk about some business, what do you say, Mr Kwon?” suggested your father in a friendly manner, connecting his fingers as he rested his elbows on the table.

Mr Kwon nodded. “Oh, yes, we shall do that. The meal was terrific, by the way.”

“Thank you, I will make sure to tell the kitchen staff,” smiled brightly your mother, hiding her grin behind her hand. You tried not to shudder at the tense, over-polite atmosphere, but on the other hand you were dying to find out more about your fate. With Baekhyun on your mind, you braced yourself, ready to fight for whatever was to come.

Your father gave you a brief glance before facing the expectant Mr Kwon. “Well, I suppose we should set a wedding date. Given we discussed most of the business part, we should now focus on you and our daughter.”

“Yes, yes. I would like to suggest marriage once she enters university,” proposed Mr Kwon importantly and you felt blood leaving your face immediately. “As you know, I would also like to get to know her better and I believe that if we will start our marriage early on, we both can earn ourselves some valuable time before starting a family. I also do not want her to steer away from me too much.”

No. No, no, no. “Actually, may I say-”

“No, you may not,” muttered your mother, squeezing your thigh under the table. She quickly looked at Mr Kwon who had a questioning look. “Would you like the ceremony when her first semester starts? You see, she is a good student, so I'd like her not to steer away from her studies too much.”

Surprised, you stole a glance at your mother, but she was facing your future husband. Your heartbeat was frantic in your chest and you swore you would pass out at the idea of your mother trying to protect you in some twisted manner, despite her fighting you like a wild bull.

“What do you suggest, then?” asked Mr Kwon, his attention fully on your mother.

She took a deep breath and her hand left your thigh, leaving behind a warm, but uncomfortable feeling on your skin. “Marriage after graduation.”

The man in question raised his eyebrows slowly, thinking over the suggested idea. Meticulously, he scrutinized your mother before his eyes fell on your wavering gaze. It was almost scorching, and you couldn't help but look down at your lap where your hands were politely connected. Noticing the sickeningly white skin of your knuckles, you didn't realize you were squeezing them together in order to fight the nerves.

“Alright,” he rasped eventually, causing you to raise your head in hope. “Under some conditions, though.”

Your heart died a little bit at that, but it didn't matter. You had four years ahead. Four years of freedom. With Baekhyun. “I am to do what my initial plan was,” he started, “and that is to get to know my future wife well. I do respect her needs, however I would like to visit her on various occasions and take her out, too. She shouldn't be a newbie to the house where I live in, so I demand to have at least one night with her-”

“Oh, Mr Kwon,” chimed in your mother nonchalantly, while your father shot her a warning look, “let me remind you that we would like our daughter to finish her bachelor degree on time. Which means we wouldn't want unwelcome pregnancies or such.”

Your throat went dry and you almost whimpered at the horrific idea.

“Are you suggesting no physical contact until after marriage?”

“Excuse me,” you said in a tiny tone, withering under the adults' strict gazes, “but this is my life and my body we talk about here.” You bravely looked at Mr Kwon's face. “As much as I understand and respect your request, I do not wish to do anything more until we know each other well enough,” you hesitated, before adding, “until I feel ready. You know yourself that I am still young and have a desire to live a little bit before I will settle down with you.”

“By living a little bit I hope you do not mean finding other boyfriends,” he cut in, the slightest of scoffs tinting his voice. “From this moment on, you are to tend to me only.”

“Actually-”

“Actually,” this time your mother cut in, her hand back on your thigh, wordlessly silencing you, “we understand your request.” She paused and you held your breath. “We agree, of course. She shouldn't be seeing anyone else besides you.”

“And has she been seeing anyone else before?” quipped Mr Kwon, leaning back in his chair, his stance somehow lazy. “Does she have experience? Has she been bedded before?”

You winced and your head snapped to your father, your eyes pleading with him to do something.

“I'd rather not…” your father trailed off, obvious discomfort on his face, “talk about this. We promised you our daughter and we are willing to make the wedding ceremony once she graduates in four years. Until then, you are to pursue her,” he decided, authority now dripping from his voice. “Feel free to contact her, but our conditions are as I stated just now. Marriage after graduation. Otherwise, we comply with your requests to be with her. She won't be seeing anyone else. Do not worry, Mr Kwon.”

Mr Kwon was watching you and that scared you. Was the fact that you were in a relationship written all over your face? You hoped not, even though you desperately wanted to tell him that yes, indeed, you had a boyfriend. You already had someone who occupied every possible space in your heart and in your mind.

“Alright,” said the guest, “may I suggest a little talk face to face here with our young miss?”

“But of course!” agreed your mother without hesitation and in no time, her and your father were gone, both of them shooting you warning glares. If only they could support you for once. Was that too much to ask for? Though you had to be honest. You were satisfied that you still had something you could hold for yourself.

“Miss,” Mr Kwon snapped you out of your thoughts. He stood up and walked over to you, motioning for you to stand up as well. You hastily did, quickly adjusting your skirt, which didn't go unnoticed by his sharp eyes. Feeling your cheeks reddening, you didn't look up.

He was quiet for a little while longer before softly muttering: “My gift looks very pretty on you. I have to say, I feel baffled that you decided to wear the pearls for me.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, but you still refused to look up at him. It was anything but for him.

“I assume you must be startled by the events, but I assure you I won't harm you. In the adult world, it is only normal to follow natural instincts though,” he murmured again as he made a step closer. “And you are definitely a breath-takingly beautiful young woman.” Suppressing the shivers, you nodded to show you were listening. He chuckled lowly. “No need to be shy around me. I prefer my women brave and confident. Like they know what they want.”

You raised your head now, reciprocating the eye contact. “In that case - I am still eighteen, Mr Kwon. I would appreciate it if you respect that.”

“I didn't even do anything,” he laughed again, shaking his head, taking your words as a joke. “But I like it. Okay. You got me. I will ask your parents for your telephone number and from now on,” he paused and leaned in a little closer, his strong cologne hitting your nose, “we shall deal with everything privately. Just the two of us.” He leaned back, checking your face for some reaction. You were shaken. “Alright?”

You nodded, wanting it to be quickly over. “Alright.”

“I'll make sure no one else will roam around you, miss. From today on, you are mine.”

It was yet another of the many times that you cried in your bed. Guilty feelings eating you away, the creeping sense of disgust at everything that you had to listen to and become part of sooner than later.

You were trying to think your situation over - how you could trick Mr Kwon to make him believe you weren't seeing anyone. In a way, you were thankful your mother and father never mentioned you already having a boyfriend as much as you wanted to shout it to the whole world. It was better to keep Baekhyun a secret which was basically one step to being in a relationship you didn't want to be. Baekhyun already became a forbidden fruit and you wondered what would happen if Mr Kwon found out.

You never told Baekhyun what was the deal between your parents and Mr Kwon. As much as he knew you were secretive and he tried to be the same Baekhyun as before, you couldn’t help the lurking feeling of your relationship's dynamics suddenly changing.

It shifted.

Unfortunately, in the wrong direction.

It’s been almost four years now that you’ve been attending university, meaning the sacred time to part was coming up, and you saw your boyfriend less and less. Even if the weather was nice and all you’ve asked was five minutes of his precious time, Baekhyun slowly but surely refused to give it to you. He would make sure to make it up later but the slightest hint of distance was palpable in his eyes and his touches.

In the beginning, you still enjoyed each other as much as you used to. He would bring you along to parties and show everyone you were together. You would bring him along to your get-togethers and make sure all the ladies knew he was yours. You slept at his place whenever you could and you were still just as crazy about each other as you used to be.

It was only once Mr Kwon started to take you out, asking for dinner dates and sometimes even making unannounced visits, was when your relationship started to break. You hated that word dearly; to break. You hated to use that word in the same sentence with Baekhyun's name. But you got the hunch that Baekhyun was suspicious. He knew something was up, he was not dumb. Suddenly, it was you rejecting his advances, it was you busy and with little time to spare. So you made sure he wouldn't get the hint and masked everything. Mr Kwon was not allowed to give you unannounced visits and you had to meet him somewhere far away from campus (it was convenient since he always treated you to expensive, tasteless food in Gangnam).

Over those few years, you and Baekhyun developed a routine; at the beginning of each semester, both of you exchanged your timetables. But in your final year, despite you knowing about Baekhyun's whereabouts, he would either stay later in school or hang out with his classmates. Thankfully, he took you many times with him - to lunches and dinners and get-togethers. Many of his friends there had girlfriends and you were never surprised that Baekhyun managed to win over almost everyone in his year. Because even if you were there as his girlfriend, his hand on your thigh to prove it, there were still so many girls, younger and older, swallowing him up with dark, hungry eyes.

Just where did the good old days go? In the good old days, you would be inseparable. There was no one who could stay between you two, even if it was your evil parents. He would kiss you, you would hug him, he would caress you and you would lay your head on his shoulder. You’d sneak out to see him, and he would create a new, safe home for you even if it meant just for a night. You risked so much to be with him; even now when you were under a scrutinizing watch of Mr Kwon, you’d always go and try to see Baekhyun.

So why was Baekhyun acting like this? With every passing day, he would drift away from you and you felt like you were trying to grasp onto him desperately, preventing him from leaving your side. Baekhyun was always by your side. He belonged there.

You were in your final year now, the beginning of a brand new, and last, semester when you decided to sign up for a fashion design class. You weren’t sure why you did it; the constant doodling as a way to get rid of your negative emotions, you grew to love grabbing a pencil and just let the sharp tip of it slide on the crisp surface of the paper. Fashion was something you always had to excel at given your reputation so when you found yourself sketching some pretty lingerie, you decided it wouldn’t be a bad move to attend a class that you actually liked, unlike the rest.

“But why does it have to be in the evening?” whined Baekhyun who was walking you to the seminar room. His hair was messy and it wasn’t because of your fingers. Apparently he had been in the library since 6am.

You sighed, and hugged your books closer to your chest, the chilly autumn evening catching you unprepared. You loved the deep red dress you wore today, but not only you were cold, but the heels were killing your feet too. “You’re always busy, Baekhyun. Why is it suddenly so difficult for you to accept that I will be busy one evening out of seven?”

He went silent and you knew you hit a sensitive spot. “You’re right.”

That made you feel… disappointed. He wouldn’t even try to fight anymore.

“Let’s talk after your class,” he suggested when you stopped in front of the classroom. There was some movement inside, most probably the professor preparing the materials for the seminar.

Baekhyun’s words left you feeling uneasy. “About what?”

He looked at you but his gaze was unreadable. He didn’t smile but didn’t frown either, until you saw the slightest clench of his jaw before he relaxed it. “About us.”

You instantly had tears in your eyes but you pressed your lips together, praying you wouldn’t start wailing now. Despite that, you shivered. “Maybe another time,” you tried.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I really need to talk to you.”

“So when you want to talk to me I need to have time but when I was chasing you the past years, you couldn’t even give me five goddamn minutes of your precious time!”

He was taken aback at the raise of your voice but didn’t comment on it, nor did he act upon it. “I think you know that we have too many unresolved issues.”

“I don’t want to solve them,” you replied stubbornly.

He frowned. “What? What’s the matter with you?” he asked, exasperated. “You’ve been acting so strange,” he added, saying your name with so much seriousness it made you shiver again. “All I want is to talk.”

“But you will break up with me,” you said, voice low now and your chin trembling. “I know it. And I don’t want to.”

“No,” he was fast to whisper, shaking his head as he stepped closer to you, “I don’t want to break up with you, angel,” he whispered into your ear now, his hands gently cradling your head as he hugged you to him.

You whimpered, dropping your books so you could squeeze his slim waist and hide your face in his chest. His sweater had a pleasant scent of his detergent and it made you feel instantly at home. “Then what is it,” you gritted your teeth to prevent yourself from sobbing.

He sighed, knowing how he must have shattered you over the time. He grew distant, he was aware of that. But Baekhyun was also a perfectionist. He had to excel in classes, he had to make sure he knew what he was doing in order to become a qualified doctor as he always dreamed about. However, him being meticulous with his studies made him lose someone who was very special to him - you. “I miss you,” he whispered. “I just want to make sure we are in the clear. I want to spend more time with you. But I want to talk.”

“I’ve been missing you for so long,” you mumbled, ignoring the few students who were passing by and entering your classroom. He had a sad look on his face and you weren’t sure you wanted to know why. “I’ll come to your place. Will the other guys be out?”

He grasped your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I don’t know. I don’t care. Just head straight to my place, alright?” he said, attempting to smile.

Baekhyun was sharing an apartment with his friends just across the campus so it was convenient for him and for you. Even though they could be annoying sometimes, they knew not to play around you too much, given how ignorant you were towards anyone that wasn’t a Byun Baekhyun.

You nodded and Baekhyun hummed in acknowledgment, leaning in to kiss your forehead. You sighed, satisfied.

“Enjoy your class,” he murmured, his lips still brushing your skin. “I'll be waiting for you.”

Before he could let go of your hand and walk away, you pulled him towards you, ignoring his questioning gaze and stood on your tiptoes, pressing your lips together. You felt him heave out a soft breath before he cradled your face and angled you up to have better access as he teased you with his tongue.

Someone cleared their throat out of nowhere and you gasped, disattaching from Baekhyun's lips a smooch that made you blush. He let go of you when he zoomed in on someone and you turned to find a young professor standing in the doorway to the seminar room. “Are you joining my class?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Quickly bowing to him, you nodded, apologizing as you made your way to the classroom. Before the doors could completely close, you looked at Baekhyun who gave you a supportive smile.

You could smell cigarettes in the corridor as you stood in front of Baekhyun's apartment door. It wasn't the nicest building; some weird people lurking here and there, but you knew he worked hard to earn the place so you never told him how you actually felt about the place.

You typed in the code, letting yourself enter and quickly took off your heels, chasing the very much needed relief in your aching feet.

“You came.” Baekhyun appeared from his room, a big grey hoodie and black pants looking extra comfortable and cuddly on him.

He walked over to you and this time he initiated the small kiss. “How was class?” he asked, taking your bag from your hand as he moved to the kitchen. He was about to lift it up when your sketchbook fell out, the pages messily opening and splattering on the floor.

“It went very well,” you answered, watching him slowly pick up the sketch book, his eyes drinking in what he was seemingly missing out on the past year. Your sketches.

“Did you…” he trailed off, swallowing before looking up at you, “did you draw this? Did you come up with this?”

“Well, I had to present something to the teacher so that I wouldn't look too lost in his fashion class,” you smiled cheekily, sensing the unease Baekhyun was suddenly full of. He let his eyes follow you as you stepped towards him, taking the sketchbook from his frozen hand. “This is my personal favourite,” you said in a low voice, turning the pages until there were no more left. The last page was the only sketch you didn't show to your professor. Baekhyun was silent, but his eyes were sharp. They flickered from your face to the lingerie sketches that you were showing him.

Slowly, he took a deep breath, eyes scanning the figure that was resembling yours unlike the regular ones that you sketched before, for anyone's eyes. This one was meant for Baekhyun's eyes only and he was assured of it when he saw the small “unlock, bbh” under the sketch.

You knew Baekhyun loved wearing black colours despite his favourite one being red. So you decided to combine the dark with a deep, sultry red that oozed sexiness and confidence. Lace was so thinly sketched, it almost seemed like your skin was tattered with it. You never liked wearing thongs, so you made sure the underwear would be comfortable for you, instead filling the space with lace and silk.

It was a luxurious piece that you were confident you could actually wear one day if you would be determined enough to bring it to life.

“You see,” you started when silence was too much to bear, the growing tension made you feel all sorts of strong emotions, “I made it like a game for you, Baekhyun.” You took his index finger and pointed it at the paper where your left shoulder bra strap was drawn. “You won't unlock me until you find out one crucial point of this set. If you do, you'll unlock the entire outfit,” you told him, your voice low. “And what do I mean by unlock?” you asked, letting go of his finger and he looked at you from his side. “You'll get to see me in my whole glory. Just a simple click can give you access to everything that I am.”

Baekhyun was thinking about your words even though it had been a while since he spoke. Eventually, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control something you weren't aware of. “Is this what you did in your class?”

You snorted a laugh. “No, Baekhyun. This is just for you. My present to you,” you smiled at the idea. “One day.”

“How can you be so fucking sexy inside and out?” he grumbled and with one arm swiftly brought you to his chest, his hand tightly gripping your waist. His eyes flickered all over your features, taking in the make-up and the red lipstick that you knew he adored so much. How could he let himself ignore you when you were a full meal, a huge prey for any man with bad and good intentions? How could he not appreciate you every single day and tell you that he loved you and wanted to make love to you every single time he saw you?

You smiled up at him and he lost it. Despite the trouble and negative tension he created, you still dared to smile at him?

He claimed your lips, catching you by surprise but you moaned instantly when you felt his hands drag downwards over your hips and bum until reaching the backside of your thighs. Both of you were so familiar with each other's actions, that Baekhyun didn't have to tell you to jump anymore. You did so without his order and when he had you in his arms, you felt him right at your center instantly. You gasped, reacting to his body as you tried to shimmy your middle over him and he grunted into the kiss.

“Jesus, what are you doing to me, woman,” he breathed, his lips glistening with your mixed saliva before cradling your cheek with one hand, bringing you in for another dirty kiss.

You whined, growing wet right away. Squeezing his waist with your legs, he clumsily put you on the counter, accidentally knocking over some cups, but neither of you cared. Baekhyun was kissing your jaw, slowly making his way to your ear into which he whispered: “I need to fuck you right now.” He bit your earlobe and you moaned, wanting to close your legs but his hands were already pushing them apart. Your dress hiked up to your hips, revealing your underwear and you fumbled with his pants, your hands already inside to bring him out. Upon touching him, you gasped, looking at your boyfriend. He was hard.

“It's what you do to me all the damn time,” he whispered, panting when he felt your light touch. “I told you years ago, didn't I?” he smirked and pushed your hand away, instead his hands grabbing you under your knees and yanking you to the edge so he could have better access. You whimpered, clenching around nothing when he pushed the crotch of your panties aside and felt his middle finger teasing you by letting it dip but not quite enter. “So wet,” he breathed, looking at your blushed face. “Let’s dive, shall we?” he murmured, grabbing himself. You circled your arms around his neck, face buried in his neck as you felt him poke you. Lubricating himself he made sure to spread your arousal all over your womanhood. You whimpered and he finally pushed in. Both of you moaned in unison, the stretch so pleasurable it made you almost see stars.

“Mmhhmm, you feel so good,” you moaned, closing your eyes and biting his earlobe. He was quick to reply when he set up a fast pace, chasing his release.

Both of you were panting, neither of you speaking as you were indulged in each other. Feeling the sweat prickling around your hairline, you kissed Baekhyun, who grunted, pushing extra deep and hitting your g-spot. You let go of the kiss with a smooch, moaning loudly into his mouth which he swallowed, his forehead pressed to yours. “Is it good? Am I making you feel good?” he breathed, puffs of air hitting your lips.

“Yes, yes, you do,” you exhaled harshly as he slowed down, circling his hips to make sure he was touching every corner of you. You arched your back, your head hitting the cupboards you forgot were behind you. Just like that, both of you were laughing like crazy, Baekhyun smiling widely as he kissed your exposed neck while still deep inside you.

You cursed, still giggling. Bringing your face back, you took his face into your hands and kissed him as he took himself out of you completely and then slammed back in right away.

“I’m so fucking close,” he whispered between messy kisses. “I swear I'm gonna cum right now, princess.”

You wanted to tell him to wait for you, but instead you lead him on. “Then cum.”

“Should I pull out?” The urgency of his voice as he kept thrusting into you made you momentarily dizzy. He felt so good. “No, don’t pull out,” you breathed and he groaned loudly, hiding his face in your chest as was his habit when he was releasing. Exactly then, you felt hot spurts pumping into you. You felt so full but the satisfaction was anywhere near. You chose not to act up on your frustration, instead deciding to enjoy seeing Baekhyun in a bliss.

“I don't remember when was the last time I came this hard,” he told you, stilling completely, his breath fanning your lips as he was slowly coming down from his high. After a few moments, he kissed you sweetly. “Sorry, baby. Let me-”

“No, don’t,” you said, the wetness leaking out of you and on the counter. His hand hovered above your bundle of nerves just above where he disappeared inside you. “It's fine.”

“But you didn’t cum,” he muttered, embarrassed. “Sorry… this is so ridiculous.”

“Don't be silly,” you said with a gentle tone and brushed his hair out of his sweaty forehead and leaned in to kiss it. “You're so gorgeous, Baekyhun,” you told him when he finally focused his shy gaze on you. In response, he squeezed your thighs he was holding onto the whole time. The iron grip eased up into a gentle hold. You were sure you would bruise but damn, you didn't care.

He smiled and that was your biggest present. His smile that was meant for you. “The one who is gorgeous is you. You made me cum so fast with just the idea of you wearing that lingerie… I'll make it up to you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing you again as he pulled out of you, once again causing you to moan at the friction.

Baekhyun cleaned up the mess quickly and sent you to wash up but before you could saunter off, he held your hand. “Stay over tonight,” he requested softly.

Feeling yourself smile even wider, you gratefully accepted.

After eating dinner, it was already too late, so both of you moved to Baekhyun's room, deciding to talk like you wanted to.

He lent you his clothes and you relished in the feeling of getting lost in his hoodie. When he lied down, he opened his arms for you to find comfort in and you were fast to jump at him, causing him to grunt at the impact which made you giggle.

“Are you trying to say I’m heavy!” you shrieked in mock anger, hitting his chest gently, and Baekhyun laughed.

“No, never,” he hummed when you settled in, resting your head on his chest. His heartbeat sounded a little irregular.

Your mood instantly deflated. “So,” you started, drawing circles on his pectoral with your finger. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

He sighed gently and you felt his breath on your forehead. “I don’t know how to begin.”

“From the start.”

Baekhyun clicked his tongue at your reply and you smiled though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You’re a teasing little thing, aren’t you, my love.”

My love.

If he called you his love it meant he wouldn’t break up with you, right?

“I just feel like …” he trailed off, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “You’re in your final year.”

That sentence spoke volumes to you. The meaning behind it meant only one thing and it was that only thing you’d been trying to fight against and refuse to accept. Your time with Baekhyun was almost up.

“Won’t you say something?” he asked softly when there was no answer from you.

This time you were the one who sighed and gently pushed yourself out of his grasp, to sit up facing him.

He mirrored you and sat opposite you. “Baby, what is going to happen?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured, lowering your head. “I mean-“ you looked up. “I won’t leave you, that’s all I know for sure.”

Baekhyun wasn’t satisfied with your answer. After all, you had the same answer years ago. He called your name. “We cannot do this forever, you know? Both of us deserve to know where we stand. It’s weird that you’ve been promised to that man but there is no news about when you are supposed to get married?” he rumbled though his voice wasn’t accusative.

Biting your lip, you avoided his eyes again by looking down.

“You know stuff, don’t you.”

You grit your teeth.

“What aren’t you telling me, hm?” He waited for a moment and when you still refused to talk, he took a deep breath. “I can’t believe you’ve known stuff and not tell me!”

This time, he sounded angry. “No, Baek, it’s not like that! I- yes, I’m supposed to be marrying him after I graduate but-“

“There is no but. There is only a period. You are marrying him after you graduate. Period.”

Your heart broke into two. Baekhyun was frowning, hurt flashing in his eyes as his jaw pulsed with how hard he was clenching it. His lips, those lips, were set into a hard line and there was no way to make him look happy like he once used to when he was with you.

“Baekhyun,” you tried, voice thin, “I already told you I’m not letting you go.”

“You seriously think about yourself only, don’t you,” he responded coldly, disbelief painting his voice. “You really don’t care what it means for me to sneak behind some rich dude who can give you anything you point at! I have my own pride. I can’t bear to share you with someone-“

“Baekhyun, I won’t let him touch me! I won’t let him do anything! You won’t be sharing me with anyone! My heart belongs to you and you know it,” you said, tears burning up in your eyes. “I love you so much,” you whispered before your voice could break.

Baekhyun was holding back, you could tell. His lips quivered but he didn’t make any effort to reach out for you. His eyes glistened. “Don’t marry him.”

You groaned inwardly. “You know I can’t do that.”

“So you’ve been going behind your parents the entire time, seeing me despite their protests and when I ask you not to marry him, you suddenly want to comply?”

“It’s for business,” you reminded him, “I didn’t choose this myself if that’s what you’ve been thinking.”

“I don’t care! I’ll give you everything. I’ll give you more than he can ever give you,” he said hurriedly and you let out a small gasp because Baekhyun was usually anything but desperate. He was the collected one, but now he was anything but.

“I’ll never leave you,” you promised shuffling to him, taking his face in your cold hands. “Please know that, Baekhyun. I won’t let him do anything. It’s just a status. That's all.”

His eyes were frantically flickering between yours, as if searching for something more than there was. “How can you just marry him when you barely ever saw him?”

And now was the time where you could start feeling guilty. It was on you. This was your fault and given how well Baekhyun knew you, he would read right into it. It got confirmed when he pulled away from you, your hands dropping.

“What else aren't you telling me?” he said in a low voice now completely withdrawing away from you and pushing himself up against the headboard.

“Baekhyun-”

“Just tell me already!”

You winced, quickly shutting your mouth. “We sometimes meet because he… eh, he just wants to get to know me better. That's it, he just asks me questions an-and I answer,” you replied shakily, brushing your hair behind your ear. “There is nothing, I swear. I deserve to know what kind of man I am marrying, too,” you added, looking up at your boyfriend whose gaze was set somewhere behind you.

“Has this been happening the entire time?” he asked quietly.

“Since the start of the uni.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fucking awesome. Congratulations.”

“Baekhyun,” you said, this time strictly. “What the hell is wrong with you? I've been begging to meet you the whole past year and you always found some bullshit excuse for studying and actually you know what? Who knows what you'd been doing during those times!” you exclaimed, the idea of him being with someone else sending you into a rage.

“The fuck? As if I would cheat on you!” he shouted back, sending daggers your way. “I've been in a relationship with someone who was never supposed to be mine! Tell me, sweetcheeks, how does that sound to you? I'm saving myself for you while I know the entire time that I'll be on the loose end. I'm the pathetic one. I am the one who will lose. Not you,” he said in a menacing tone. “So before you start to throw shit at me, I would look in the mirror if I were you.”

“Byun Baekhyun!” you shouted.

He raised an eyebrow. “What. You don't like to hear the truth? Well, this is it. And I have lost my mind, finally. I've been too goddamn blinded by your hope when I knew the whole time it would be fruitless. I cannot do this anymore!”

By then you were sobbing. The last sentence sent you into fits of cries that you couldn't suppress no matter how hard you tried, and it hurt. Byun Baekhyun's words hurt like hell. Hiding your face in your hands, you felt the wetness of your tears pooling in your palms, hoping he would stop being angry with you and just take you in his arms and take his words back.

It didn't happen.

Slowly, you moved your hands away to see him stare at you, hard gaze, lips sealed tightly. “Baby,” you tried, reaching for him. More tears fell from your eyes but you didn't care anymore. He had seen you cry so many times and he was always there to comfort you. This time you were crying because of him and he wouldn't even move a finger for you. “Baby, please.”

“You said you deserve to know him better, too,” he said. “So it is that important to you - that you need to know him.”

“Of course,” you replied with a nasal voice, “what if he is a psychopath.”

He laughed bitterly. “Right. What if he is. How the fuck would you know - you are marrying him anyway! So why is it so important to you to let him get to know you? And you him?”

“It's just the way the deal went, okay?”

“No, it's not okay,” he spat. “You're going against your own word. “You told me there would be nothing happening until you graduate and you were with him behind my back.”

It was your turn to scoff now, though your face was splotchy. “Because you were waiting for me so much!”

“Don't you dare turn this against me,” he muttered in a low tone which left you shocked. This was the first time Baekhyun used that kind of tone with you. In fact, this was your first time fighting this ugly. “This is about you. About your fucking family. About them wanting to destroy us!”

“And it's obviously working!” You threw your hands up. “Just look at you now! You're doing exactly what they want you to be doing! They so desperately wish for you to hurt me so I could dump you,” you shouted, more tears rolling down your hot cheeks. “I guess they were right after all.”

“Right in what,” he snapped again, glaring at you.

You stood up, unable to keep fighting with him. He watched you wordlessly as you picked up your bag where you had your school books. “You're just using me. I guess I was just money to you as well!” You were seething as you yanked his door open and rushed straight for the door.

Sensing someone in the kitchen, you stopped abruptly for a moment, seeing Park Chanyeol staring at you in shock while he took in your state.

You shook your head, not bothering to say hi to him as you went to grab your shoes just to realize you came in heels. “Fuck,” you muttered. Well, Baekhyun's vans would have to do. Grabbing them, you tied both shoes tightly so you wouldn't fall as you rushed to grab the door when you felt a hand grab your wrist instead.

You looked back, making out Baekhyun's features through tears. “Let go,” you snapped, trying to shake him off.

“Where are you going this late?!”

“Anywhere is better than here with you! I cannot stay with you, Baekhyun!” you shouted, finally yanking him off harshly enough so his hand slipped.

You slammed the door shut and Baekyhun was met with silence. Throwing a single, helpless gaze at his friend was enough for Chanyeol to nod and move. “I'll go after her,” he reassured Baekhyun who seemed to be on the verge of mental breakdown.

Baekhyun just nodded, watching Chanyeol leave and hoping you wouldn't actually break up with him.

You were marching down the dark street, ignoring the anxiety creeping in from the silent, empty streets. They were eerie and scary and you hated walking down them at such a late hour but there was no way you could stay at Baekhyun's.

Fast steps brought you back to the present and your heart almost jumped out of your rib cage when you felt someone taking your wrist again. Hope spiked up, expecting to see Baekhyun but it was Park Chanyeol.

He turned you to him gently, little out of breath from trying to catch up with you. “You sure walk fast,” he commented.

He let go of your wrist and you sighed, looking at him with expectation. “What do you want, Park?”

“I just wanted to make sure you're fine,” he said rather shyly.

“I'm just fine,” you insisted, “I will go home now. Go back, it's late.”

“I'll take you home,” he said and to prove a point he clinked with his car keys. “Though it's not the best car out there, it will do the job.”

You rolled your eyes. “I always knew all of you were judging me for my status. And don't bother. I know you're only doing this because of Baekhyun. Well, you don't need to do this.”

“He would skin me alive,” he whispered, horrified. “And he is now too good with the scalpel. I wouldn’t dare.”

“I don't want your help unless it's something you actually want to do, Park Chanyeol,” you muttered through gritted teeth, feeling another wave of tears threatening to spill. “You just made it worse. Leave.”

“It’s late.”

“I don't care. I need to be alone right now.”

“For your information, we all know how much he cherishes you,” he started. “Whenever he would reject you, he would study but not really focus. He keeps talking only about you. We don’t judge you for money but for how much you occupy our space even if you aren't there. That dude is just bewitched by you and I don't know how you managed to do it, to be honest. He is the coldest guy to any other opposite sex beside you.”

“What are you trying to say, Park Chanyeol?”

He sighed and gave you a pointed look. “Baekhyun sacrificed a lot for you. He is so loyal to you despite all the matters you guys have. He never told us but we have a hunch. Just… don’t go breaking his heart.”

“I am not breaking his heart!” you said loudly, tears rolling down your cheeks. “He doubts my feelings.”

“He doesn't. He is insecure.”

“How can he be insecure? All I ever wanted was to be with him.”

Chanyeol stepped closer to you, causing you to tilt your head back further. “Then go back and amend the mess you made.”

“It's not just my mess. It's ours. We made it. He should know what he told me was wrong.”

“All he ever did was listen to you! What makes you think that guy has unlimited patience? He doesn't! So go back, and make it right again!”

You let out a loud groan, turning away from him. You tapped your foot on the concrete, thinking hard though you were close to exasperation. Turning back to Baekhyun's friend, you muttered: “Since you brought those keys, take me on a drive. I’ll sponsor the gas.”

It was already late when you returned back but at least you managed to clear up your mind. Quietly slipping back inside his dark room, you saw him lying in bed, his back turned to you. Putting your bag quietly down on the floor, you slipped under the comforter, your arms and legs hugging him like a koala bear.

You thought he was asleep or worse, that he’d ignore you, but he moved almost as soon as you hugged him, turning in your embrace, pushing his leg between yours and his hand circling your waist, his hand on the skin of your lower back. It was pitch black in the room, but once you felt his hot breath on your mouth and then the moisture of his lips on yours, you didn't need to see. You just felt. He kissed you and poured all of his apologies, regrets and forgiveness in the kiss. You returned the kiss just as fervently, feeling his warm hand on your cheek, his fingers in your hair while his thumb smoothed the skin under your eye. He shuffled himself closer and hummed when you darted out your tongue. He sucked on your lip a little longer before opening his mouth to let you in, and you took your time in exploring him, twirling and sucking on his tongue while you felt his arm tightening around you, his hand under your hoodie as he caressed you under your breast. In the quietness of his room there were just the slick sounds of your making out.

When you couldn't keep going anymore, you separated, your mouth fully wet from your mixed saliva as you panted loudly. You felt him pressing his forehead to yours and you sighed in relief.

“I'm so sorry, princess,” he whispered, nuzzling your nose gently, dragging his leg up so he could rest it on your thigh. “I was a fool.”

“No,” you whispered back, wishing you could see him better. “You merely stated the facts. It's all on me.”

“We both screwed up,” he added, “but fuck.” He gave your cheek a small, open-mouthed kiss, sending shivers down your spine, “I can't imagine you leaving me and being with him. I can't.”

You wanted to reply to him and to ease his mind that you wouldn't, but you would lie. The more you would keep to yourself, the more you would end up hurting the most precious person in your life.

“I'm so sorry. None of what I said is true,” you managed to blurt, unable to come up with anything more. “I keep breaking you. I'm so sorry.”

“Shh, baby,” he whispered urgently, his hand that was resting on your cheek slipping to the back of your head to bring you closer. You hid your face in his chest while he hid his in your neck. “You're not breaking me. You're breaking me if I'm not with you.”

You snuggled closer to him and he sighed, hugging you tighter. “My precious gem, I love you,” he whispered into your ear. To make your body contact more intimate, you also hid your hands under his hoodie, feeling his muscles contracting at your delicate touch. “You're mine.”

Few days later you received a message. It was from Mr Kwon and you groaned, stopping on your way to another class.

I request a lunch with you today

My driver will pick you up at 12

I know you're not supposed to be having classes

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you pushed your phone back into your bag and headed inside the classroom. Even if you would reject him, he wouldn't accept it, so you might as well not bother with replying.

However, you were shocked when the driver came all the way to your classroom as all the students were pouring out and heading for lunch. You knew Mr Kwon's driver and even though he was polite, you didn't like the looks he was giving you whenever he saw you wearing skirts, like for instance, now.

He escorted you to the expensive restaurant where they were already waiting for you. Upon spotting you, the staff rushed towards you and led you to Mr Kwon who was already seated, his hands clasped together as his elbows rested on the table. He stood up, giving you a polite bow as he helped you sit down.

When he was opposite you, he said: “Pleasure to see you. How have you been the past few days we didn't see each other?”

You suppress a tired sigh. “I've been fine, thank you.”

“Oh, have you, now?” he questioned, his eyebrow lifting. His eyes were telling you something he wasn't verbalizing and it put you into unease right away.

Smiling, you muttered: “Yes, but thank you for your concern.”

“No issues with your friends?”

His stupid inquisition was starting to annoy you. “Excuse me? Could you please speak more explicitly?”

“I thought you'd never ask,” he smirked and took out an envelope from the inside of his cardigan and handed it to you over the table.

With uncertainty, you accepted it and opened it, not wasting time in trying to understand his mysterious words. There were photos. Frowning, you inspected them better and you were shocked when you saw it was you with a tall male. Park Chanyeol. It must have been that night when you fought with Baekhyun. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized this man had you followed by someone.

You opened your mouth to talk but he cut through like a knife. “I was wondering where did you receive such a - how shall I put it - passionate bruise on your neck the last time I saw you. Turns out you're sleeping around with someone.”

It felt like he just threw a bucket of icy cold water on you. The idea of him having you followed, of him not trusting you and rudely breaking into your privacy as if you were some object he could manipulate and decide whom to meet and whom to not meet was driving you up the wall.

“You don't have anything to defend yourself?” he asked sharply. “How long have you been seeing that man?”

You swallowed on a dry throat. Mr Kwon thought your boyfriend was Park Chanyeol? That was good. As long as he had no knowledge about Baekhyun, you didn't care. “I… it's been…”

“Jesus Christ, I really didn't think you would be a whore,” he snickered, eyeing you up and his eyes eventually resting on your cleavage. “You were acting all innocent and brave just a few years ago and attending university changed you so much. I wanted to be the only one who would bed you,” he sneered and you felt a bile rising in your stomach.

“What- Excuse me?! Who do you think you are?!” you exclaimed, horrified. “Don't you dare think of me that way.” You stood up and wanted to scream when you saw his eyes drinking up your thighs that got revealed as your skirt hiked up. “A deal is a deal. You don't have any rights to treat me like this. And you can bet you aren't going to boss me around once we are married. I'll easily reject the marriage, too.”

Mr Kwon was fast up on his feet to walk over to you. “Well, if you do, your parents are as good as dead. Their business is in shackles, young lady. So unless you want them to be able to afford some food and have a roof over their heads, I advise you to respect me,” he was talking so fast you could barely register his touch on your hip and on your backside. Gasping, you slapped his hand away and dared to push him from you. He snickered.

“Watch your hands, Mr Kwon,” you spat. “This is a private property.”

He laughed and leaned in. “Oh, are you like this with him too? Then I can't wait to have the full rights. The only one with rights. Soon, little tiger.” You moved to push him away when he added: “You better end this little thingy you have with the boy. Because if I find out who he is, I will destroy him and any perspectives he could have for the future.”

Even though he didn't know about Byun Baekhyun, you could not risk it.

You had to break up with him.

// // // // //

Drop me a message! ^^ CuriousCat

#exowritersnet #baekhyun fanfiction #exo fanfiction #superm fanfiction #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fic #MWM #mywritings

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fathermarty · 4 years ago

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hi can u write a remus lupin x reader where the reader has to look after their mother because she’s really ill and she can’t stop worrying about her and she’s not sleeping, barely eating and not able to do anything other than look after her mum and Remus finds out somehow and forces her to look after herself and tries his hardest to help, thank u so much this is kinda my situation at the moment except rlly rlly unfortunately there is no remus to make me look after myself

The Caretakers Lifeline || r.l.

Summary: Request above; Reader takes care of ill mom but forgets to take care of herself but good ‘ole Remus to the rescue.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Warning/s: talks about illness and possible loss of family member; fluffy fluff

Word Count: 1017

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Your mom has been sick for a long time, but it seems like in the last three weeks her health has drastically declined and her being your only family member alive makes her illness hit harder. You keep telling yourself that she is strong and will make it through, but the realist side of you is trying to prepare for the worse.

Currently, you are on winter break, so you have a few weeks to try and get your mother's health back up. You asked Madam Pomfrey lots of questions before you left Hogwarts, your mom is a muggle and does not have the money she needs to get the appropriate healthcare. You are currently in your room of the small flat that you and your mom call home trying to brew some type of medicine you read about.

You have been writing back and forth with your best friend/crush Remus Lupin, until recently where you just didn’t have the motivation to write back. He is very observant and he knows that something is going on in your life but he hasn’t directly asked. The way your smile doesn’t reach your eyes when you laugh at one of his jokes, or the way the bags under your eyes are more present because you spend your free time peering over medicine books, or perhaps the fact you owl your mom every waking moment, or maybe when even your favorite food is served for supper you only play with your food not taking more than a few bites of food, it is probably the fact you use to write him back instantly and now he gets no owls from you. You would like to think you were hard to read but Remus is a bit of a book connoisseur so he knows exactly what is going on.

Dear y/n/n

How are you? I haven’t heard from you in a few days, do you need anything? I am really missing you and the boys. Are you okay? Have you been eating? I know you were kind of picking at school. I just want you to know that I am here for you and I will always do all I can to help you. Please talk to me y/n, I am starting to really worry.

Sincerely yours, Remus

You felt bad for not replying to Remus, but when it came to doing anything that wasn’t for your mom, you avoided it. You cannot remember the last night you slept more than three hours, you were always scared to fall asleep and wake up to your mom no longer alive. You spent every waking moment with your mom, doing all you can to help her.

One day your mother is doing slightly better, she has been able to sit up and feed herself. You feel the world slowly get lifted off your shoulders, not completely gone but enough to where you can actually feel how drained and tired you are. Just as you take a seat beside your mom to enjoy this moment of peace there is a knock at your door.

“Are you expecting anyone?” You ask your mom, she shakes her head no but the childish glint in her eyes tells you that she was.

When you answer the door there stood the one person who you knew could bring you back to reality. Remus Lupin. He stood there with sad eyes wearing a small smile as he observed your disheveled appearance.

“Remus?” You ask as you stare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Well, y/n/n an owl came and told me you weren’t doing very well.”

You squint at Remus as you see him looking behind you, and when you turn your mom smiles and waves Remus in.

“Well y/n, I will let you kids hang out in here. Do you mind helping me to my room to give you guys some time?” You stare at your mom, wondering how in the world she has gotten so much better in such a small amount of time.

“Actually Mrs. y/l/n I will help you,” Remus says before taking your mom's fragile hands and help her to her room. You hear the two of them talking but you can’t quite make out what they are saying.

When Remus comes back to the main room he pulls you to his chest and runs his hands through your hair. “Y/n you look terrible.”

You laugh as you feel yourself relax into Remus’ embrace. He smells like a new book and the cologne you love. He rubs your back as you sigh once more.

“I had told my mom about your mom being sick and she got an antibiotic that I sent yesterday. I think it is helping your mom.” You look up into Remus’ eyes where you can swear you see the universe shining through. You have never been more grateful for a single person in your life. You wrap your arms around Remus’ neck and give him a kiss on the cheek.

When you pull back you see him staring at your lips before flicking up to your eyes. In a swift movement, his left-hand moves from your hip to the back of your neck to pull you into his lips. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, this was a moment you have been waiting for since you met Remus.

He pulls away and holds your head in between his hands, “Y/n you have to take care of yourself now. I cannot live without you.” Tears are threatening to spill from his eyes.

That night Remus convinced you to take a well-needed shower, and when you got out and were dressed in new clothes, you saw him and your mom both sitting at the table waiting for you. Remus had made your favorite meal (with the help Momma y/l/n) and had the table set for the three of you. You cannot remember the last time that the smile on your face reached your eyes and your heart.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

To the person who requested this: please stay strong. I am so fucking proud of you for taking care of your mother. I would really appreciate it though if you took an hour to help yourself too. You cannot help your mom if you are not taking care of yourself. Your health is so important and I want nothing more than for you to be healthy. So please please please take care of yourself, sweetie. I am here if you need anything. Please message me or send in something so I know you are okay. I hope this motivates you to take care of yourself because there are people who love you, I love you, honey, stay strong.

#mauraders #mauraders era #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x reader #wolfstar #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew

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chaseatinydream · 4 years ago

Text

sly san who sacrifices (i) || c.s (atz)

➳ pairing: reader x choi san (ateez)

➳ word count: 2396

➳ genre: badboy au; fluff; angst

➳ synopsis: to the school, he may be a bad boy, the worst of the worst, but to you, he’s choi san, father of three cats, your best friend and ultimately, the boy you love.

>>>

San has often been called ‘catlike’.

It’s no surprise, given his near obsession with picking up strays from roadsides and giving them a home in his family’s third mansion, where he lives, and his behaviour does remind you of a cat’s. There’s something distinctively feline about him, from those uncannily sharp eyes to his whimsical, distinctly teasing personality. Some find it off putting, citing him as arrogant and aloof, but you know him better than that.

He’s your best friend, after all.

Honestly, you’re not very sure how the two of you became friends. It’d started this way on the first day of term with him seated at your side. Within the first three minutes you had known each other, he’d ripped off his tie, called it ugly and flung it across the room, all while ranting to you that the colour scheme was an abomination and how the school should have at least hired a competent designer to do their uniform.

You had merely stared at him in wide eyed shock and nodded along with everything he’d said.

And that… was how it’d just happened.

You like to think that you understand him, but it seems a humanly impossible task. Choi San toes the line between sweet as cotton candy and cold as ice like a professional tightrope walker, a double faced enigma that you can never predict. One second, he’s cradling a baby bird in his hands, cooing about how cute it is to you, and the next moment, he’s in a fist fight with another student, your hands pulling on his sleeve as you desperately beg him to stop with tears in your eyes.

Sometimes, you don’t know why San is your friend. All the rest of his gang – ATEEZ, as they call themselves – are what one would label as bad boys, terrible influences, a stain on your school’s otherwise pristine reputation. The two of you are polar opposites, you’re everything he’s not and he’s everything you would have steered clear of.

But here you are, in this strange, peculiar situation, with Choi San still seated at your side two years after your first meeting, his head resting against your shoulder as he dozes off in class.

You jab his side with a pen.

“Psst, San.”

Your best friend cracks open one eye lazily, feet propped up on the table. He’s wearing slippers today, you groan mentally, together with school issue pants and one of his self-designed shirts. Not the typical bad boy image he usually goes for, but then again you know that San had been out clubbing in town till the wee hours of morning, so it explains his state of casual dress. Still, if he was just going to sleep the whole lesson away, he should have just stayed at home!

“Wassgoinon?” San mumbles sleepily into your shoulder and you puff out your cheeks in exasperation, ready to lecture him on how he should be paying attention to the teacher instead of sleeping his life away like an actual cat.

But then one look at how peaceful and serene he looks with his eyes closed has something melting inside and you momentarily falter, chewing on your bottom lip as you struggle to chide him.

Stupid pretty face. Stupid jawline. Stupid dimples.

“If you were just going to sleep you should have just stayed home, you know?” You mutter, running your fingers through the red streaks in his hair that he just refuses to get rid of. He mumbles absentmindedly under his breath, curling into your side like a large cat and your breath hitches in your throat.

You turn to study him a little more intently. He looks tired, with purplish-black bags under his eyes that remind you of bruises, his flawless skin a little more sallow than usual. Frowning, you press a hand to his forehead… and yelp when you realise how feverish he is.

“San, you’re sick!” You whisper worriedly to him as you sit up a little straighter, hand touching his neck, where his leather choker lies. Yup, he’s burning up, alright. Concern shoots through you and you immediately speak your mind. “You should go home.”

But he merely bats your hand away, grumbling incoherently under his breath as he shifts into a more comfortable position against you. “But I wanna stay in school…”

Your eyes widen in horror at the words that have just left his mouth. The fever must have fried his brain, turned it into a smoking pile of mush, because San never wants to stay in school. Truly on the verge of panicking now, you turn towards the teacher at the front of the classroom and raise a hand desperately, trying to grab her attention.

When she does turn to look at you, you gesture at the pouting boy next to you.

“Professor, can San go home first? He’s sick.”

Your best friend doesn’t have the best reputation with the professors, in fact, most of them are scared stiff by him. San is a wild card, you’re never sure what hand he might play when dealing with him, so you can’t really blame the teachers for being terrified of him, but you can’t leave him be like this in class.

The class abruptly falls silent, tension settling over the room like a thick, unbearable smog.

The teacher glances over at the pair of you, looking nervous when her eyes flit over San. “Well, of course Mr Choi can leave-”

“I don’t want to go.” San growls from next to you, starting to rise from his seat with darkening eyes. The teacher actually shrinks back in fear, colour draining from her face at the potential ticking time bomb on her hands. Instead, you smack your best friend over the head, the charms on your bracelet jingling as you scold him for his bratty behavior.

“San, you’re sick! You need to go home and rest!” You chide, but San merely gives you the best puppy dog eyes he can, a complete opposite of the terrifying glare he’d been projecting earlier.

“I’ll go home if you come with me.” He whines like a petulant puppy, tugging at your sleeve and you groan in exasperation, jerking your head in the teacher’s direction.

“San-ah, lessons are still ongoing! You know I can’t just leave class like that-”

“You can leave too! Please!” The teacher near begs and you scowl at San, who quickly paints the gaze of an innocent angel over the smug, victorious grin on his face. Scowling, you shove your books into your bag before you reach over and grab him hard by the ear, yanking him out of the classroom as he yelps in pain behind you.

“Ow… ow ow ow!” San squawks as you haul him out of the building to the main gate, whipping out your phone with your other hand and speed dialing San’s chauffeur. Honestly, you love San, but sometimes he’s just... ugh.

Ring, ring, ring.

“Good morning, Young Miss. What has Master San done this time?” The dry, monotonous voice of San’s chauffeur and personal assistant comes over the phone and you snort at his opening gambit, both of you all too used to San’s shenanigans.

San flails and struggles against your vice grip on his ear and for a moment you’re afraid that you might actually tear the piercing out of his flesh, so you let him go and he stumbles to the ground dramatically, groaning as he cradles the abused appendage with both hands.

“Surprisingly, nothing. He’s just sick today.” You tell Claude honestly and you can practically hear the stoic man’s eyebrows rise from over the phone.

“He has not? Please, wait for a moment while I check Young Master’s room for him. The one at your side now cannot be the real Master San-”

“You know I can hear the two of you, right?” The topic of your conversation slings an arm over your shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against the juncture of your shoulder and raise a hand to smack him in the face, but he dodges to the side with ease. “And Claude! I’m supposed to be your master, you know? Could you stop talking about me like a mutt that keeps pissing on the carpet?”

The man draws in a deep breath to counter. “Well, Young Master, perhaps I would have reason to if you behaved more like a young master instead of a dog-”

You shove San away from you and press the phone to your ear once more. “Anyway, Claude, could you please pick up San from school? He’s at the main gate now.”

There’s the purr of the engine over the call, sleek and velvety as you hear the car pull out of the driveway. “Anything for you, young miss. Please keep Master San under containment until I reach the venue.”

San grabs the phone from you in fury and shrieks into the receiver, voice reminiscent of a dying cat. “Stop talking about me like that! And I’m your master, not her, you know-”

The call hangs up abruptly.

You dissolve into fits of laughter at the look of stunned shock on San’s face and pluck the phone from his hands, while he merely continues staring blankly into the space where the mobile device once was. Bopping him once on the nose to snap him out of his daze, you grin smugly at him and wave the phone in your palm. “I told you that Claude likes me more than he likes you. Honestly, sometimes we have tea chats over the nonsense you get up to.”

Your best friend sputters incoherently.

“Preposterous! Unbelievable! Unacceptable!” San’s face is red with disbelief, almost the same hue of crimson as the coat he wears. Giggles nearly spill forth from you at the comical look on his features as you fight to keep your laughter in your chest, admiring the way his flush makes his cheeks like blossoming roses. “I’m going to fire that traitorous little bastar-”

He breaks off into a coughing fit.

“San!” You yelp in horror, dropping all pretense and rushing to his side to support him. Your arms wind around his shoulders and pull him close to you as he bends over still coughing, waving you off with a raspy ‘I’m fine, I’m fine– ’.

“You shouldn’t lie, Young Master.”

Whirling around in surprise, you see Claude standing there, sleek black limousine behind him, posture perfect like a statue, not a thread on his impeccable suit out of place. San had designed it for him with his very own hands, from the sketching of the outfit to the selection of the material, explaining to you every bit about how all these would come together eventually to form a suit perfect for Claude’s thirty seventh birthday gift.

You had strongly vetoed San’s idea of making the suit canary yellow, but that had been one of the experiences that had really bonded the two of you together. You remember staying over at his house till the wee hours of the morning, curled up in his bed with Darong as you watched him work the sewing machine through sleepy, half lidded eyes. When you did fall asleep, you would often wake up a few moments later to see San on the floor of his room, head tilted against the bed in a manner that must surely not have been comfortable, his long fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist and Puchi in his lap as he snoozed away before you.

Innocent and vulnerable.

Your heart softens at the memory.

“What? How did you get here so fast? I swear you’re like… Usain Bolt in disguise or something.” San grumbles as he tosses his backpack with the force he can muster at the chauffeur, the older man catching it easily with the same, unruffled, serene smile on his face.

“Usain Bolt is a respectable Olympic Sprinter, I merely have a very expensive car provided to me by your father. Also, I did tell you this morning that you were sick and needed to stay at home today, but you refused to listen to me and walked all the way here on your own.” Claude answers as he holds open the door to the backseat. San’s face turns even redder at being exposed and your eyes widen in shock.

“San, you walked all the way here this morning? It was pouring buckets!” You exclaim angrily, now thoroughly furious and also confused by why San was so determined to come to school today. There was nothing especially exciting or interesting going on in school, so San’s behavior was completely counter intuitive. “You’re sick and you don’t carry an umbrella! So that’s why you were so wet this morning! Stay at home next time, you dummy!”

Instead of defending himself, something in San’s eyes soften at your little outburst, the dimples in his cheeks appearing as he gazes at you. “Cute.” He hums under his breath and you recoil a little in confusion, a frown pulling at your lips. San has been doing strange stuff like this recently, dancing hot and cold around you, saying strange things. You chalk this one up to his fever – it must have really fried his brain – and turn your head away to hide your flush.

“I’m just worried, okay?” You mumble, a little embarrassed by his words but you push them out of your mind, forcibly shoving San into the backseat of his car. He nearly trips, stumbles a little, and falls into the leather seat with a yelp. “There! Now, I’m heading back to class–”

His fingers close around your wrist and tug you in after him.

“Choi San!” You shriek in indignation but San merely chuckles tiredly, sagging against your side with his head resting on your shoulder, eyes already sliding shut. You’re about to push him off, but you falter when he sighs gently, his warm breath fanning over your collarbone.

You nearly shiver at the feeling, but keep a hold of yourself.

As Claude closes the door after you and slides into driver’s seat to begin the drive back home, he glances at the interior driver’s mirror to see the peaceful expression on his young master’s face.

He smiles knowingly to himself.

#ateez #ateez san #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #san #choi san #san fanfic #w; san #w; fanfiction

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obeymeluv · 5 years ago

Text

Um...Good Morning? [7 Bros Reaction]

I have so many ideas for this blog~ I didn’t expect to be found so soon but I’m grateful for the support! This reaction is NSFW (because the boys love you).

P.S: I don’t know if there’s any sun in the Devildom (I don’t think so?) but we’ll say there’s not.

Super long because there’s headcannons for all 7 brothers.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────» «────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Aww, the little human slept in! Time to wake them up! Never mind, now we’re ALL late to school!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────» «────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Lucifer

He fully expected you to sleep through your alarm and be late sometime during your first month in the Devildom. Humans are interesting little creatures that depend on routines and you’ve lost the sun.

Lucifer, trying to uphold Diavolo’s wish for humans, devils, and angels to build a bridge of understanding amongst themselves, gives you the benefit of the doubt and waits about ten minutes before deciding to wake you up

He’s very Type A. Probably didn’t even wait the ten minutes. Wants you to succeed and he’s responsible for you so you WILL get up.

When talking to you and light knocking (for him) don’t work, that door’s coming open!

And there you lay, perfectly asleep. Hugging your pillow with your tiny (to them) human body tangled in the sheets. Hair a mess and a...bottom scantily clad and just...in view

Lucifer doesn’t handle nudity well and you just make it all worse. His face heats up and he doesn’t know what face to make or where to put his hands

Forgets to shut the door, doesn’t say anything else. Turns away while trying to process what he just saw. Or...or not process (because that’s not right).

He absolutely CANNOT leave in this state so does he just stay home sick or...?

It’s not until Satan and Mammon come slinking up to poke at him and see what’s taking so long that he realizes they’re going to see you.

Lucifer hisses at them, little black diamond pulsing in his forehead as his horns threaten to spiral up into view.

Accidentally shuts the door on his hand because he tried to close it so quick

You get woken up by the small spat between Mammon and Lucifer--”Her FIRST MAN needs to see what’s up!”, “You won’t BE a man if you don’t SHUT UP and GO TO SCHOOL this INSTANT!”--and poke your sleepy head out the door to see Beel with Asmo and Mammon in a bear hug, lumbering towards the door.

Lucifer looks absolutely exhausted. “Please get dressed. It’s time for school.”

Mammon

He may give Lucifer a hard time but Mammon secretly enjoys waking you up

You know, FIRST MAN privileges and all!

Also, if he has to go, you’re going.

Has VERY little patience and doesn’t like to be ignored after putting all of that effort into his entrance/witty announcements.

“Yo, get--” Mammon threw the door open after running out of clever stuff to say and is totally awestruck by the sight of your ass just out there to see

He’s not up on human terms but he knows that’s a money-maker!

Seriously, that ass could make some cash! (he’d go into debt for that ass)

His ears, cheeks, and throat get super hot. Like, somewhere in the back of his mind Mammon knows his face is hurting

“Get up already!” he can’t even yell right now. His voice cracked. He’s dying inside. He jangles the door handle obnoxiously and hits his head on it really hard because this is a weird way to start the morning and he needs to think of ANYTHING ELSE.

Asmo’s skipping towards him none too innocently, practically glowing at the chance to see some drama

You open your eyes just in time to see Asmo get fucking clotheslined and dragged away from your door, the two brothers rolling away together in a ball of flailing, squealing, and biting.

“What’s going on?”

“NOTHING! STAY IN YOUR ROOM! SHUT UP AND GET READY FOR SCHOOL! THE GREAT MAMMON HAS WAITED LONG ENOUGH!”

He never tells you what he saw, and he’s weirdly protective of you the rest of the day

Leviathan

Wouldn’t normally dream of waking you up. Touching a normie? Eww! He doesn’t even like going to school, himself, but somehow the duty’s fallen to him, so he must.

Should he say something funny? Something sweet? How would Henry do it?

OTOMES DID NOT PREPARE HIM FOR THIS!! (side note: buy more ‘slice of life otomes. They will surely have ‘wake up’ scenes).

Gets very shy, doesn’t knock loud enough, and grumbles out things you never hear (”Good morning! Time to get up! HEL-LOO!”)

Finally opens the door because if he doesn’t, you’ll never come out

Boy’s heart skipped a beat and probably stopped a minute. He makes The Noise™ (”WooOOOooW!”)

You’ll never be Ruri-chan but HOT DAMN!

That’s basically a free X-rated scene without all the dialogue and gifts!

Achievement unlocked? No, no. This doesn’t feel right! It’s not right!

Levi feels faint from excitement (is that a thing)?

He’s red in the face and right is left, he closed his eyes, and almost took himself out on your doorway trying to run away

Mammon’s coming to investigate and Levi’s demon form gets triggered because the thought of Mammon seeing you like this might make you guys closer, then you’ll get together, you won’t have time to be his friend (you dumb normie!), and just NO because Mammon took his figurine and his money!

Accidentally gets his tail stuck under the door

You guys are legitimately late and Levi may sound like he’s complaining but he doesn’t really mean any of it. Intimacy + 5, right?

Satan

He’s not as hardcore of a Type A as Lucifer, but he’s very orderly and wants to be on time. Life is easier when you put in effort.

Because he doesn’t want to hear Lucifer ramble on about how you need to get up and eat and generally detests the idea of him stealing anymore of his air, Satan goes to wake you up

It’s a moment of brief peace that he really values

Gives short, strong knocks and brief calls (mostly, ‘hey’)

Starts to get a little angry that you’re not up. Some questions and curiosities come into play, taking the edge off, but really, how long is this going to take?

Opens your door to give a tiny lecture (read: complain) and that ass throws him into stunned silence

Satan’s the one to get a nosebleed.

Forgets he’s supporting himself on the door, loses his grip, and almost gives himself a black eye

Beet red and trying not to get blood everywhere, Satan’s telling you to get up or you’ll be late

Coming from Lucifer has its perks, as he can do The Look ™ and chase his siblings off

When you show signs of getting up and moving for the day, he goes off to tend to his nosebleed

You’re awake and ready to go--backpack and all--when you realize he has blood on his bow tie.

Satan won’t admit he likes to keep up his appearance like Lucifer, but he insists on changing it out to save himself the annoyance of answering questions all day

You help, and it takes all his willpower not to get another nosebleed as you fix his bow tie

You’re both late and he doesn’t care. You talk about books on the way.

Asmodeus

Asmo’s an early bird because his routine is extensive and the world needs his perfection.

Wants to wake you up earlier--way earlier--and everyone craps on that idea instantly.

He wanted to bond, get you all dressed up! Maybe find a way for you guys to match or just do you hair. He has lots of ideas and he’d love to play with it!

But he waits to the point of it being painful, to where it feels like a century (read: until Lucifer tells him you need to get up).

Asmodeus bounds down the hall like a giddy puppy, throwing your door open like he’s the sun itself come to wake you up.

His eyes land on you and this boy basically explodes. YOU’RE SO CUTE OH MY GOD! It’s like an arrow to the heart, honestly

That bed head? Your little feet? And that ass, oh my!

As much as he wants to, he doesn’t take any pictures with his D.D.D because 1) you’re not dating and 2) he doesn’t have your consent.

The type to tease you and (accidentally, maybe) make you so mad you get up by yourself because he does not shut up!

When your feet hit the floor he’s trying to be in three different places at once. He wants to brush your hair and help you into your uniform and ALL THE THINGS!

You may break his heart by locking him out long enough to get dressed, but he pulls the charm and puppy eyes to convince you to let him do your hair. Or your makeup. Or your nails (maybe all three).

You’re late (not because you didn’t try to leave on time) but Asmo gets the punishment tossed because “perfection cannot be punished, and we are flawless.”

Beelzebub

Despite his many midnight snacks, this boy gets up early because he wants to be the first at breakfast

Eats his food, packs a few snacks for school, and tries to sneak your portion for himself. Doesn’t mean to, but the siren call is too strong!

Besides, you’re sleeping. You can’t eat if you’re sleeping. He doesn’t want it to go to waste!

When the family clears the table, it’s time to wake you up.

This boy hopes you get up because if you get up early enough, you can stop by a restaurant and get something to eat! Or you can get a good spot at the cafeteria!

Very kind and patient with waking you up, but his stomach wins out with a loud grumble.

When the grumble doesn’t wake you up, he pokes his head in to check on you.

He has PLENTY of experience with this because of Belphie and--Beel realizes you’re partially naked and his face catches on fire.

For a minute, he’s not hungry. Just looks, then doesn’t realize he’s looking and gets more embarrassed.

This boy’s probably eaten ass at least once in his long life and he’d DEFINITELY eat yours. Or eat something off of yours. Cake would be good. Is that cake still in the fridge? Mmmm...cake...

Beel may have tried to take a bite out of you when you first arrived (because you smelled so good and humans are basically a delicacy among delicacies) but he would never without your consent, so he settles for one of his freshly-packed snacks

Wakes you up with eating/package sounds. Tries to feed you.

Is pretty content to wait for you to get ready, seeing as how he has food

You guys end up being late because he stopped to get you a coffee and that turned into coffee and lots of sweets

Belphegor

He doesn’t like being woken up so why the hell would he want to wake you up?!

It’s just wrong, him stealing another person’s sleep!

Wants to do it even less because Lucifer asked him to (the asshole)

Can’t even justify it by ‘suffering together’

Belphegor knocks on your door a few times and resists the urge to lean his head against it. This boy can sleep standing up!

He finally opens it because if he keeps closing his eyes, they’re going to stay closed

It takes him a few minutes to realize you have a nice ass because he’s hating on how asleep you are.

Like, that’s a nappin’ ass. He bets it’s comfortable and soft. Would probably make a good pillow...

Belphie likes to nap, so he knows how to gently wake a sleeping person

You don’t even open your eyes as you talk to him, your voice deep and slurred with sleep. It’s so damn cute it’s almost disgusting and Belphegor’s happy you’re not looking at his face.

Makes the dangerous mistake of sitting on your bed to annoy you (shake your shoulders, etc.) and starts to get sucked into the idea of another nap

The two of you make a compromise--he’ll say he thinks you’re sick/just needed rest, and YOU let him sleep in your room. Belphie doesn’t outright say he misses sleeping with people, and probably won’t sleep with you in the bed. It’s just the idea of having another person around.

The plan works, and Lucifer and the others think he left your room to give you privacy.

Belphie makes sure everyone’s gone as he grabs a pillow and blanket. This boy’s changed out of his uniform and into pajamas in 0.03 seconds.

Falls asleep on your floor

Lucifer comes home to yell at you guys later in the day but you’ve just catnapped in different spots of the House of Lamentation and the others shush him. Apparently he’s not allowed to wake up the human (you do look kind of cute though)

Belphie is taken off of wake-up duty.

It was long but I hope you liked it!

#Obey Me! x Reader #Obey Me x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Satan x Reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Beelzebub x Reader #Belphegor x Reader #Leviathan x Reader

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alienheartattack · 4 years ago

Text

To All Of Us, From 2000 Years Ago

I got so mad about 139 and the leaks that I banged out my own 3000+ word ending to the manga today. Please keep in mind that this is a non-shipping story. Although I’ve exclusively written Rivamika before, this is not a Rivamika story, and although there’s an Eren/Mikasa scene at the beginning. there is no relationship between them, only the implication of feelings that are not quite reciprocated. I also threw some Levi fan service in there because why the hell not?

CW: There are references to and non-detailed descriptions of rape in this story.

You can also read this on AO3!

"You know what you have to do," Eren says. Mikasa pretends not to hear him over the rush of the little creek they're sitting by so he says it again, louder.

"I know," she sighs. "Even now, knowing that you've done something so unforgivable, a part of me doesn't want to."

"You're a good person, Mikasa. You'll be even better without me."

She snorts a laugh. "I've killed people, too. Just not as many as you did."

"You always had the weirdest sense of humor." Eren puts an arm around her, presses a kiss to her cheek. "I'm going to miss it." That's what finally brings him to tears, the thought of not seeing Mikasa again. Or Armin. Or Connie, or Jean, or Captain Levi, even the rest of them. He's had plenty of time to accept that he'd die at nineteen, was always going to die at nineteen, but now that the moment has arrived he wants to hold on just a bit longer.

Mikasa doesn't cry, at least not the way he expects her to. Tears stream down her face but she doesn't sniffle, doesn't sob, doesn't rage or scream the way she’s done in the past. He sees them both, Mikasa the girl and Mikasa the soldier, perfectly coexisting in the inky blackness of her eyes. She has made her decision. She made it before she even stepped into the mouth of the Titan.

"Kiss me one last time," Eren weeps. "Please."

"Okay," she nods, cupping his face with one hand and leaning in close. "See you later, Eren."

When Mikasa pulls away from his lips, the deed is already done. His severed head feels sickeningly heavy in her blood-stained hands. His eyes gaze beyond her, beyond the veil of this world, clouded with the knowledge of the void. The Titan around her begins to disintegrate in plumes of white steam. Mikasa swears she can smell wildflowers.

"Mikasa Ackerman," a girl's voice echoes. Mikasa whips her head around, looking for the source of the sound. Someone seems to materialize from the steam, swirling eddies of smoke coalescing in the form of a small girl, scraggly blond hair falling into her eyes, barefoot in a dirty white dress. Her face is blank, her eyes downcast.

"Ymir," Mikasa says, the name forming in her mouth before she can think of it.

Ymir nods, then points to Eren's head. "You loved him. Why did you kill him?"

"I had to."

"Why?"

"Because some things are more important than my love." Ymir stares blankly, seemingly confused. "The millions of people who died are more important. The world is more important. Besides, what kind of person would I be to stand beside someone who could slaughter so many people so senselessly?"

"You… don't love him?" The little girl blinks quickly, white lids snapping over black eyes. Something about it seems inhuman, wrong somehow. Mikasa cannot help but think of insects.

A tear falls from her face and lands on Eren’s, snaking a trail down his cheek as though he'd shed it himself. "I can never forget what he did and I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive him for it, but I'll always love Eren."

"You wouldn't die for him?"

Mikasa answers without hesitation. "Never."

Ymir's gaze snaps up to Mikasa's, and she feels sick from what she sees in the girl's odd, dark eyes: a hunger, almost starvation, for the scraps of affection Karl Fritz would throw at her; a longing to be treated well, to be fussed over and doted on and adored. Ymir would close her eyes and dream of a shining, beautiful man when the king held her down and fucked her, made her recoil, made her bleed, beat her when she cried out or complained of the pain. She carved out a space in her mind for him where she sculpted him into her ideal. Sometime between that first bloody night and the day the assassin's spear pierced her chest she invented a Karl Fritz out of whole cloth, a man whose cold entreaties and brutal assaults were proof of his undying love.

Mikasa sees these things from Ymir’s eyes, feels the bruises forming on her back, the tearing and bleeding between her legs, the rotted wine breath of Karl Fritz in her mouth.

"I would never have jumped in front of that spear," she says, more confident than she’s ever felt. "I wouldn't even have considered it." Ymir frowns, cocks her head like she's trying to understand. "You thought you were doing the right thing, but you protected a man who never loved you. You laid down your life for a man who forced your daughters to consume your body. He didn't even mourn you."

A flash of anger contorts Ymir's face. Her eyes dart around wildly, turning Mikasa's words over in her mind. "But he loved me," she insists.

"Did he ever tell you he loved you? Or did he treat you like a slave?" Mikasa's voice wavers at the word slave, at the memory of Eren screaming at her across that restaurant table; the moment her wall of denial came crumbling down. No matter what his plan was, it became clear that day that he would step on any of them to achieve it. She had no idea how true that assessment would become, millions of bodies crushed into the contaminated earth beneath the feet of Eren’s Titans.

She wonders if things would have happened differently if he'd just admitted once that he loved her.

"You are free," she tells Ymir. "You choose your own destiny. I am free, and I chose mine."

Ymir says nothing, her eyes luminous with tears, and then dissipates into the smoke. Mikasa is vaguely aware of the wavering steam around her, of Levi flying on Falco's back and pulling her out of the Titan's mouth before everything turns hazy and white.

She can see the scene from two thousand years earlier as clear as though she were there, floating above it all: the crowd come to see King Fritz's speech, the hooded assassin's arm pulling back, the tip of the spear glinting in the daylight. The assassin lets the spear fly, its arc perfectly aimed at the heart of the tyrant. His wife Ymir, older and slimmer than the girl Mikasa met but still with those same sad, black insect eyes, watches in horror as the tip of the spear flies closer and closer; but she does not move, not even when it impales her husband through the chest and the light in his eyes is snuffed out.

In time-lapse, Mikasa sees it all: the accession of Queen Ymir, wise and fair, and the moderate reigns of her three daughters, and their daughters after them. The power of the Titans remains within the royal family, passed down from mother to daughter, a shameful, secret birthright. They create diplomatic ties with other countries, offering succor and counsel, avoiding the path of war so as not to reveal their ultimate power. There is no Great Titan War, no walls, no telepathic manipulation. The world moves forward in fits and starts as it always has, small skirmishes and occasional wars, but the Eldians remain steadfast and committed to peace. Satisfied with Ymir's choice, Mikasa finds herself closing her eyes, opening them for the first time again in the year 835, in her parents' house just outside Shiganshina, as a new doctor pulls her into the world. He is not Grisha Yeager, she notes, and then she forgets who Grisha Yeager is entirely.

In the year 845, there is no Wall Maria for the Colossal Titan to breach, and no Colossal Titan to breach it.

Inside one of the cities in what was once Wall Rose, a history teacher writes notes on a chalkboard before his first class arrives for the day. He draws a crown in the middle of the board and writes the subject of the day's class inside of it: QUEEN YMIR THE WISE. The teacher is startled by a noise behind him; he turns to find one of his students, a shy girl called Sarah, taking a seat at her desk.

"School hasn't started yet," he says. "You're supposed to be outside."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith," Sarah replies. "I was looking at a really interesting bug and the other girls started making fun of me."

The teacher nods. "All right, just this once. If you’d like, sometime I could teach you how to stand up to those girls."

Hundreds of miles away, the forests of Dauper ring with the whoops of an exuberant girl, triumphing at having killed her first deer with a bow and arrow she carved herself. She doesn't care that she's scaring the other game away with her commotion, or that she has no idea how she'll lug a hundred-pound carcass all the way back home.

In Trost, a young boy lingers over his breakfast; not because he wants to miss school, but because his mother's omelet is the most delicious thing he's ever eaten and probably ever will eat. His mother ruffles his hair and pinches his round cheek, then gently chides him to eat faster or he’ll be late.

A little boy in Ragako District, a few inches shorter than his friends, demands another explanation of the multiplication tables. He doesn't quite understand the concept, goes blank when his friends try to explain arrays of rows and columns, but he believes that he can pass today's test if he tries hard enough.

Across the sea in Marley, the prosperous Eldian District is strewn with streamers, celebrating the 2000th anniversary of the assassination of the cruel King Fritz. The children have the day off from school and are gathering in the streets, purchasing candy and ice cream from vendor stalls and exchanging them as gifts to celebrate the sweetness of life. A little blond girl receives an extra coin from her father, who tells her to get something special for herself.

A few blocks away, a doctor fills his medical bag and sets off to see his first patient of the day. As he walks through the crowd of happy children, many of whom he’s delivered himself, he hopes that his only son will change his mind and join the family business.

In Mitras, a shopkeeper opens his door for the first time, pausing for a moment in the early morning sunshine to admire the wooden shingle hanging by his doorway, gently swinging in the breeze. It depicts a hand wrapped around a mug of tea, wisps of steam rising into the air above it.

The door opens while he's adjusting the canisters on the shelf behind the counter, making sure their labels face perfectly forward. His heart leaps at the tinkle of the doorbell. He picked the most musical one, the one that made him happiest when he heard it, and he feels very good about his decision.

"Hello, welcome to Ackerman Tea— Mom!" His voice takes on an adolescent whine when he addresses his mother, which makes him feel like a child and impossibly old at the same time, despite his twenty-six years.

"Did you really think I wouldn't be your first customer?" she asks, beaming. "Of course I'm going to come support my sweet boy." Her gaze sweeps over the shop, its walls painted a deep forest green, the mahogany counter polished to a mirror shine. "I'm so proud of you, Levi. You've worked so hard and it shows." Her voice quavers, her eyes filling with tears.

"Moooom," he trills, softer this time, quietly moved. Her presence feels like an auspicious omen, a reminder from the universe that someone will catch him should he fall. "Is there a tea you’re interested in, or would you like me to help you choose? We have more than thirty varieties."

"You've been practicing," his mother notes with a nod.

Levi shrugs off her comment, feeling a bit bashful that she’s noticed his hard work. "I've never been great with people, and this job is nothing but people. At least until I can hire someone to cover the counter while I blend tea in the back."

"You'll get there soon," she says, pulling a few coins from her purse. "Get me something you'd think I'd like."

He thinks for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration, before his face lights up and he grabs a step-stool to reach a canister of black tea flavored with strawberry and rose. "This one is sweet and floral, but it becomes so much more when you add a bit of milk. You don't even need any sugar."

"Perfect. You even thought about how I take my tea." She places a few coins on the counter, watching her son approvingly as he scoops the tea into a bag, folds it closed with surgical precision, and ties a blue ribbon around it. "You're going to be a success, my love. I know it."

"That makes one of us," he smirks, then scoops the coins into his palm and puts them in the cash register, enjoying the feel of the heavy keys under his fingers, the spring-loaded pressure of the drawer. He hopes he gets to use it many more times today.

"Will you be home for dinner?"

"I should be. I can't imagine people will want to buy tea at night."

"Good," his mother says. "Because now that you're in business, we should talk about finding you a wife."

"MOM!" he exclaims, a furious blush coloring his face.

Further south in Shiganshina, Mikasa sulks as her mother walks her into town, not wanting to leave the safety of her parents' cabin to learn and play with the other children. She is perfectly happy to do chores on the farm, to learn the simultaneously mundane and arcane secrets of coaxing a plant from seed, to throw feed to the chickens and pull weeds in the garden.

"Mikasa, you're ten years old. Your father and I can't teach you everything," her mother says.

"I can learn from books. I don't need to go to school."

"The fact that you're saying that means you need to go. There's more to the world than just our farm, my sweet. You might want to see the world someday."

The little girl huffs. "I doubt it." Her mother simply shakes her head and smiles, ruminating on her daughter’s impending teenage years, a possible hint of rebellion, but finds that hard to imagine. Mikasa is usually a calm, easygoing child, though perhaps a bit too inquisitive and stubborn for her own good.

Mikasa hugs her mother fiercely at the school gate, watching as she turns and walks back up the road that leads to their farm. She’s excited to make new friends and learn new things, but she misses her home more than she ever thought possible. She lets out a soft sigh, then turns to face the crowd of running, yelling children; her new classmates.

She trudges around the grassy schoolyard, dodging groups of kids chasing each other or playing impromptu games. Everyone seems to know each other already; even if she did feel comfortable enough to go up to someone and introduce herself, she has no idea who to approach first.

"Hey! Give that back!" someone screams behind her. Mikasa turns around to see a small blond boy jumping up and down, reaching for a book that a larger boy dangles just above his grasp. The larger boy just laughs at him, taunting him with the book, threatening to tear it from its spine.

Mikasa frowns, balling her fists at her sides, then approaches the boys. "He said to give his book back," she says to the bully. "Give it back."

The bully laughs. "You think you can tell me what to do?"

"I think you should give the book back if you know what's good for you," she snarls, putting her hands on her hips. The bully laughs again and shoves Mikasa out of the way with one hand, making her stumble backwards, tripping over her own feet until she lands on her behind in the dirt. She gets up, dusts herself off, and runs up to the bully, punching him square in the nose. He falls to the ground, dropping the book. Mikasa tosses it to the blond boy. The bully grabs his nose, tears welling in his eyes, and lets out a wail when he sees his hand smeared with blood.

"You leave him alone!" Mikasa threatens, looming over the bully, her dark eyes shining. He scrabbles to his feet and runs away and she lets out a relieved breath, her heart hammering in her chest.

"That was amazing!" the little boy says. When he approaches her, she finds that he's not actually that small, only a few inches shorter than her. "I've never seen you before. Are you new?"

"It's my first day," she replies. "I've lived here all my life but I haven't been to school yet."

"I'm Armin," the boy says. "What's your name?"

"Mikasa."

"That’s an interesting name. Are you from Hizuru?" Armin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity. He holds up his book, a thick, leather-bound tome, A Brief History of Hizuru and the Minor East Sea Islands written in gilt lettering. "My parents told me that the whole country is built around a volcano. A big mountain filled with liquid fire! Well, technically it’s molten rock."

"My mom's family is from Hizuru, but I’ve never been there and I don't know anything about any liquid fire mountains," she says tentatively.

"It's real!" he gushes. "I'm reading about it now. I could tell you about it more at recess if you want. I like to sit under that tree over there." He points off in the distance, at a huge pine tree that shades a corner of the yard. "They're going to ring the bell soon, otherwise I'd tell you now. Volcanoes are so cool. Sometimes they explode and shoot the liquid fire into the sky like a firework."

"Wow!" Mikasa marvels with a smile. "I can’t wait to hear about them."

#snk 139 #snk spoilers #snk leaks #snk fanfiction #alienheartattack writes

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voidcat · 4 years ago

Text

– a case of bad luck

2. a deal (with the devil)

m.list ; prev ; next ; wc: 2.1k

a/n: society if i could w r i t e,,, anwyays i feel im making mafia dazai ooc? i hope not, ive just began the light novels dsfdg uh yea i'll probs update once a week (depends on how often i can write)

Insisting he leaves you off at the station, you let out a breath of relief for the first time in hours. Unsure he may still be following, you change directions few times, walk fast and use shortcuts only locals of the neighbourhoods know to get him off your track. Just in case.

The next day he doesn’t show up, neither does he the day after. Not knowing how to feel or what to think about this, because there is no way he will let you slide off this easily, you do your best to resist the relief.

And soon later, it blurs back in your head, like smoke dissolving, like a bad dream.

But the unease never leaves. Neither does the feeling of being watched.

Then one lunch break, your eyes get fixed on a spot by the sidewalk and you can swear it’s the same clothes, the bandages, the posture and the look and everything crashes down back on you again. You do your best to linger and change directions as many times as you can on the way home that evening. Nothing goes wrong that night, or the day after or the day after that. If the false of sense peace were to go for few more days, you think you’ll forget all that happened again, too focused on school or whatever your friends recently bringing up.

A bell to mark the school hours ending, walking outside, caught up in whatever you’re discussing and he just stands there, like it’s nothing, like he belongs to his peer group, missing some of the bandages you saw on his face before, clothes not sticking out like you thought they would.

He stands there and smiles your way.

You think, you’ve never wanted to punch someone in your life as you do in this very moment. Just to erase that smile off his face.

In your view, he only gets bigger with each step, the flock of students you’re stuck in only walking towards where he waits and you look around for a way to sneak out but nada! Nothing! And your friends have grown suspiciously quieter than the usual. Stealing glances from one another and from you, the snicker like they’re sharing this little surprise for you.

Shorter than calculated, you find yourself standing right in front of him.

No words on his end and the expecting looks on you make the air tense.

“Hi… Dazai!” You say at one point, fake enthusiasm clear, not that they seem to mind nor realize. “What brings you here?”

“I was just in the city as you see. And decided, what better time to surprise an old friend than now?” The smile vanishes for a moment, the forced school play act making you want to roll your eyes but he puts a hand on your shoulder suddenly, you wince and shake his hand off, and he continues. “So, have you got the time to show me around and catch up?”

“Do I have a choice?” Followed by a dry laugh, you look back to your friends who only seem satisfied, makes you wonder what kind of lie he sold before he got here. His smile grows wider in reply.

You sigh and start to walk by his side, taking a step a second later than him to keep a distance and to see where you’re headed.

“What did you tell them exactly?” your curiosity takes the best of you as you reach a traffic light.

A little ‘huh?’ coming from him, he turns back to glance at you, the sun behind his head makes his height apparent. The short lived look of asking he gives you dies as he tilts his head “I only told them a cliché story, assumed they’d fall for cheesy scenarios such as that.”

Red turns green.

You take a step by his side, no more following behind. “Which is?..”

“That we were old friends with a shared history of potential intimacy and I wanted to take you out now that we are back together again!” He says it like it’s so usual.

The two of you reach the pavement and continue to walk, never faltering.

Letting your eyes linger on him for a while, you turn your gaze back on the streets as the sense of familiarity begins to vanish. “I didn’t take you for the romcom type.” You say at last as you stop.

“I’m not.” He doesn’t spare a glance this time. “I just know someone who likes them.”

The number of people around decrease with each step, the air gets colder –maybe it’s your nerves. The light starts to fade and not a word has been spoken for quite some time. Not that either of you were dying for some get-to-one-another.

When he speaks again, you don’t hear it at first. “Your ability-”

You halt with a stomp of your foot. “I don’t have one.”

He narrows his eyes in annoyance, “Your ability must be based on some form of speech, as Akutagawa served a good example that night.”

The name barely rings a bell in your memory.

“Question is, what kind of speech it requires? Does it rhyme, should commands work, shall it be sang, like a siren?”

“These are all excellent questions, except for one big missing piece…” you answer. The mention of something missing seems to get his attention. “…That I do not have an ability.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he huffs, the ever growing annoyance levels can tell alone you’re pushing the little bit of luck you have.

“Then how did Akutagawa pass out exactly?” hands back under his coat.

“There was blood on him? Maybe he’s sick? He definitely looked the part.” You say as more of a suggestion than an answer.

“The men inside the building. The one with his internal organs out.” Words get colder with each breathe.

Yours fade as his grow colder, “Maybe the other captured guy did it?”

“You don’t sound sure, weren’t you right next to him?” suspicion of a knowing parent hinted in his voice almost, he already must’ve figured it all out that night.

“I…” the pavement looks gray, stones crooked, countless fights must’ve gone through here before.

“I don’t know.” From the edge that connects the floor to the walls, you try inspecting each dull color behind the lifeless filter, not acknowledging him standing there doesn’t feel any safer but it’s preferable to those eyes.

His lips don’t move but the ‘You don’t know?’ is heavy in the air.

“I don’t know! I don’t remember!” someone’s yelling reaches your ears. “I just!-“

The yelling was yours, your arms fall back, go back up and you hold yourself, “I was… singing? To calm down… And the rest is just a blur.”

When you look up, he looks as disinterested. You consider yelling, asking for an explanation, what he’s thinking; it’s not that hard to piece it all, you think, but this demeanor rubs you the wrong way. The longer the silence goes, the eerier it becomes, the emptiness of the alley you’re standing in stands out. The lack of people, noise, light, it’d almost crash down on you if it wasn’t soin the open ever since he showed up.

“The words you spoke to Akutagawa. Are they from a song?”

“The ‘go to sleep’ you mean?” you finger quote the lyric, “it’s from Beach Life In-“ you stop with a shake of your head, “it’s from a song, yes.”

When you look again, it feels like an adult waiting for a child to connect the dots in front of them, like you’re the only one in the world who hasn’t figured it out already.

“But it makes no sense.” Hands on hips, eyes focused on a pebble near your foot, “I mean- it’s not like I haven’t sung before?” You turn then, start to pace, a hand on your forehead to push back the few strands brushing against your forehead.

It starts to warm up, or feels like it, each strand of hair just there, existing, leaving its weight on you, tickling, annoying, bothering; suffocating-

He cannot be right, can he?

Sure, self-awareness can change for each person but something so important as an ability shouldn’t be missed that easily… being a stranger to yourself when a stranger figured it out in mere seconds- it’s ridiculous, it simply doesn’t make sense, he must be wrong or confuse you with someone else, how can it be that bad, how can my perception be that bad, what else did I miss if all this is true and happening-

“Despite how the Port Mafia appears,” his voice pulls you out of your head, “ability users is not such a common occurrence. And surely the ability to affect your surroundings, or make people act certain ways is one we cannot let go of.”

I should drink some water, a part of you says when you gulp at his implications, ‘we cannot let go’ just gets out of his mouth and stays right in front of you, in bold jet black letters.

“What you should ask yourself is if you felt anything during all these times of singing…” silence feels enough of an answer, hyped up or not there isn’t much to feel, much to wish for. “Or if the words you snag back then were for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” “What did you feel that night?”

“Typical fight or flight response? Adrenaline, instinct to survive?”

“Stop assuming and start being more confident.” (like that night) a part of you yells, in his voice, though his is devoid of any emotion. You don’t want to learn how he sounds when he yells.

“I wanted to get out.” You try again. “Not to survive but to avoid death or whatever was awaiting me until that.” Sounds more like you, you straighten your back. “I didn’t want to stay any longer to see what they’d do to me so I found a way out.” He almost seems pleasant to hear the change in you, maybe it’s time to surprise him a little more.

“So let’s say,” you start pacing again, less like rambling and more like an animal circling, not a prey but a threat, because that’s what he is, what he has been and will be, “that I have an ability that I can use only when my emotional capacity is at a certain level… why would a mafia executive want me to have a better understanding of it?”

The radius decreasing with each step, you end your steps right in front of his face “what makes you think I won’t use it, right now, on you?” each pause between the words to make it clear this is a threat, no more of the power balance he held over you for too long. Your back to the beginning of the alley, you’re ready, in case he is one of them –if not, he might still have a gun.

He doesn’t falter, not a hair on him moves. Until he chuckles, at you and your words.

The vibration in his voice, nor the laughter reach his eyes.

“There are quite a few reasons why this won’t do, like how you cannot use it.”

The confidence in his voice makes the truth more unbearable.

“And besides, even if you managed to use it, it wouldn’t take me long to stop you.”

“Are you that fast?”

“Are you?”

This marks the end of it, as much as it pains to admit he is right, a part of you doesn’t want it, doesn’t feel the same sense of danger and survival to run away.

And regardless of all the threat he possesses, he doesn’t seem all too willing to get rid of you.

Rolling your eyes, you turn and walk away to the blinking store lights from the street. A second set of footsteps catch up to you in few long strides.

“So what is this then? You’re going to help me use my ability and leave me in debt?” reaching the traffic lights, you step onto the road without batting an eye.

“Why would I agree to something like that?” the car drives by, almost brushing your back. The sun has begun to set already, the colors mixing together.

The wind carries away his words but you catch them just in time: “You have a family and a cat, don’t you?”

You stop and look up. “Not a cloud in sight. Was it a sign of a rainy day to follow?” ignore the implications, don’t think about the faces. “A cloudy day perhaps, I always mix up the tells of the sky.”

“I’ll be around.” And he leaves with that.

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itsonlystrange · 4 years ago

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It’s late and I feel like talking about ST characters trauma

I feel like most people only focus on Will’s or El’s (which both are very valid ! ) but I think we both need to remember that:

1: characters exist outside of their trauma. If you believe that all a single character is is their trauma, and that they deserve no further character depth, you’re psycho

And 2: all characters in this fking show are traumatized. All. Of. Them. At this rate, I think Lucas is the most unscathed mentally, yet he ALSO has so much trauma! Which nobody ever talks about!

I love Will and El, however I feel like other characters (especially the females) deserve more expansion on the sh!t they’ve been through.

I WANT TO ALSO SAY:

This isn’t me narrowing down characters with the “most trauma” as I simply cannot put every character in this post and go on a full analysis rn as its 4:00 am. And also, trauma isn’t a competition. I am sick of people saying “so and so is more traumatized than so and so.” Or “so and so is the most/less traumatized.”

All trauma is valid.

People will trauma of any kind know that it doesn’t matter if someone lost 2 legs and half their brain, but you only broke your foot. That’s still gonna be painful! Mentally and physically! It isn’t a race. I don’t want to see ANY of that anymore. It’s disgusting and undermining other characters traumas to benefit others. All characters trauma is V A L I D. It all is! There is no “well so and so is the most traumatized so the others don’t get to complain.” NO! NO NO NO! That’s not how it works! This isn’t a game!! And don’t ever feel bad about not having gone through as much as your friend, your trauma is yours and all experiences are valid.

ALSO REMINDER: characters exist outside of their trauma and ab*se and I know that! This isn’t me belittling or shrinking down people to only a component to their trauma. It’s me pointing out their trauma rather than having their trauma he their whole character. I just think we need more people to talk about other ST characters, especially right now.

Now, without further a do:

MAX:

Max’s dad left fairly early on from what we’ve seen, however she still had some contact with him for at least a few more years as she seems to remember him and miss him quite a lot. We don’t know much about Mr. Mayfield, but we do know Max mises him a great deal. We also know that she has most likely witnessed a lot of physical and verbal ab*se from her stepfather. It’s never stated if Max is a handle to this ab*se either, but she’s definitely witnessed it. Which is why I believe she pushes people away, she’s afraid to get latched on. Because If she does she’ll start to care, and then they’ll just leave like almost everyone else, like her old friends and her father. She puts up walls and feign strength and a somewhat high ego to keep up the hallucination that she doesn’t care about what others think, when she really does. Not to mention she literally witnessed Billy die right before her eyes. Do you know how traumatizing that is? She’s also seen multiple others die aswell, making it worse. Now with Billy gone, Max will most likely be the center of Neil’s ab*se, and Will distance herself from everyone, and will probably spiral into a severe depression. She acts all tough on the outside when in reality she just wants to be loved and accepted, by her friends and family. She gets critiqued quite a lot, especially for being a girl, and you can tell she definitely has gotten the short end of the stick most her life.

KALI:

Do I even need to explain this one? She was literally ABDUCTED AS A CHILD, then adopted, then her adoptive family DITCHED HER, she was forced to see others get hurt or to hurt others for experiments, she’s seen multiple people d!e, and she feels like the only way for life to get better is by k!lling people. Although she’ll never show it, she feels so alone in the world. With no real family, and only her friends, she has nobody to turn to. Kali was so hated upon, which in a way, I understand. I don’t entirely agree with her morally but I do see where her intentions lay and I don’t think she’s as bad as a person as everyone says she is. She’s just a broken girl that deserves to be loved. And she’s so distant from love because she’s afraid of getting hurt. But she deserves happiness, and I wish the Duffers would allow her that happiness, too.

JOYCE:

Nobody EVER talks about Joyce’s trauma as much as they talk about Will’s or El’s (which I’m not invalidating either of theirs I’m just pointing out Joyce’s)

Joyce is said to deal with frequent panic attacks and anxiety. She was verbally and probably physically ab*see by her husband leaving her with severe trust issues. For awhile the whole town thought she was crazy, and we’ve seen her be treated like an outcast. She doesn’t fit in. Back in the 80’s, single moms were looke down upon. Will is constantly referred to as “Lonnie’s Boy”, because that’s what people see him as, even when Lonnie ditched Will and hurt him more than Joyce ever could. Joyce works/worked multiple jobs, and had to keep up her family of two boys. It got so bad even Jonathan had to get one or two jobs just to keep a roof over their heads.

Joyce really deserves happiness. She’s always alert now and her anxiety has only gotten worse. She’s constantly looking for things that aren’t there and although she may have been right about the magnets, it’s worrying that she saw a pattern there, anyways. Her life has given her the short end of the stick multiple times. She’s seen multiple people d!e, her son get possessed, her son get exorcised and be in so much pain, the love of her life (Bob) die right in front of her, the other love of her life (Hopper) die right infront of her, she’s been losing herself since season one, and knowing it’ll only get worse in season 4 scares me so much. She deserves to settle down and find a happy family. She deserves love and support and therapy. And she deserves support system that will listen to her and be there for her. Joyce is so strong in so many ways, she has always percerviered through the thick and thin, and life has ever gone in her direction yet she stays there, for her boys, and doesn’t give up. She is so kind and loyal, she took El under her wing, she was there countless nights when Lonnie was screaming, protecting Will. She was there, staying up all night to make sure Will went to bed safely. She worked two jobs and has tried to get enough money for Jonathan to go to college, and yet life has never given her anything back. This woman has been through hell, she deserves to be loved with no consequences. She deserves to be happy without it backfiring. Joyce is such a dimensional character. She’s had her ups and downs, and she’s somehow always found ways to keep on pushing forward past where most people would break. THATS Queen shit

NANCY:

Now, it looks like Nancy had a fairly peaceful upbringing. While I don’t think she has as much trauma as Mike, I feel like a lot of people over look her and her existence and immediately write her off as “selfish” or a “brat”. And while I do agree that she does have some selfish or self centered moments, she’s always grown from those. Character development, people!

Nancy, the oldest of 3, definitely got the most love from her mother. I don’t think her home life has ever been bad. Although Karen and Ted aren’t the perfect happy couple, they don’t seem to fight much, and they seem pretty peaceful. So I don’t think Nancy’s home life is bad necessarily, and from the outside it could almost be described as “perfect”.

However, there is so much beneath that.

Nancy was stuck in a loveless relationship for about a year. She did the best she could at school to fit in or “be popular”. She wanted to stay with Steve because that seemed like the most logical option. He was popular, rich, he’d be the perfect guy to settle down with. But her heart was telling her to go else where. Jonathan was poor, unpopular, and isn’t necessarily the perfect guy to settle down with financially. Her parents put pressure on her to be the perfect housewife (more so her dad, I don’t think karen did as much.) so when Nancy falls for someone the exact opposite of what she should be going for, she’s in denial. She’s torn between the two. She had a perfect life ahead of her. Great friends, popularity, a loving boyfriend, but she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to settle down and living a boring life just like her parents.

Besides all that, she’s been pulled into an alternate dimension, she’s seen multiple people d!e, she’s nearly been k!led MULTIPLE times. She’s had to k!ll people for her own safety. She’s had to watch her boyfriends brother get excorcised, and also stab her boyfriends brother with a flaming hot rod. She’s had to live with the guilt of Barbara, her best friend, dying while she was sleeping with Steve. She feels so much guilt, survivors guilt, for not doing anything that night. She’s had to live with the fact that her bestfriend since she was little passed on right outside where Nancy was, and Nancy could’ve done something about it, which is the worse part. She’s been harassed by misogynistic coworkers for the fact that she’s a female, lowering her self esteem. And it seems that whenever she does something good in the world it always backfires. She feels like an outcast even though she has so many “friends”, or so it seems. She has the perfect house at the end of a culdesac. What can she possibly be sad over? Her life seems seamless. Yet there is a lot buried under there. She seems like she’s in denial over a lot of things, and constantly in a stage of grief. Nancy deserves to not feel ridiculed. She deserves to be a winner, and to prove those misogynistic @ssholes wrong. She shouldn’t have to fit this cookie cutter ideal. She’s a badass. She’s experienced way more than I feel like most people realize, and has been put in the center of absolute insanity yet still was able to come out of it intact. She deserves to live the life she wants to live, without Survivors Guilt, without the feeling of being an outcast, without low self esteem. Nancy is such a strong young woman in more ways than one, and I feel like so many people hate on her solely because she isn’t doing what most of these girl next door characters usually do. She subverted her own trope. And most people are angry that she isn’t this cookie cutter girl the way she’s “supposed to be”. She gets overlooked, and most people prefer the men of the cast, over her. And yes, everyone is entitled to their opinion, however I’ve seen people hate on Nancy for stupid misogynistic things, which isn’t a valid reason to dislike a character. And most people assume she’s just a spoiled, self obsorbed, ditzie girl, but she really is just someone trapped inside a box trying to get out. Nancy is a baddie. She’s always defended her friends. She’s always defended her brother, and has fought interdimensonal demons before. SHE IS SUCH A BADASS! She learned how to use a gun at the age of 16, despite most woman in the 80’s not even slowing themselves to touch a gun. She grew independent and learned to work for herself and not for others. She cracked a major story at the Hawkins Post, and even when people didn’t believe her, she still pursued it, and was right! She doesn’t give up, and people should be looking up to her and aspiring to be her. She literally beat up someone with a fire hydrant while playing a game of Marco Polo. Why does nobody talk about that! She will kick your ass into the next dimension. THATS Queen shit.

That’s all for now. I will touch back up on this later with some more characters traumas (probably Mike’s, Dustin’s, Lucas’s, and more.) but this is it for now. I really think we should pay more attention to the woman in the ST cast and their characters. A lot of focus is usually on the boys, which is understandable, but I wanted to point out how strong all these girls are and how much I admire them. I love Will and el as well, but I’ve already made several posts talking about them and how badass they are, lol. I wanted to shine light on more people that usually don’t take the spotlight very often. I’ll be back with more, later! As I said above, I’ll totally touch on some more people’s trauma as well, as there’s a lot beneath the surface I feel like most people don’t pay attention to.

SORRY FOR SUPER LONG POST

PS: I began writing that at 4:44am, then fell asleep. It’s 11:45 am now.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #nancy wheeler #joyce byers #kali prasad #max mayfield

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pinkhairedlily · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sasuke’s first year was rather uneventful. He wasn’t in the same class as Naruto and Sakura, and thank God he wasn’t because from what he heard in the hallway and in the classroom during breaks, they were described as having uncontrollable bursts of energy. The other likable, the other a menace to mankind. He kept to himself most of the time, never went to class late, recited perfectly, ranked first on all tests. When there were group works, he would submit a finished output before they could even hold a meeting. He didn’t bother with his classmates’ workarounds – hanging out in cafes just to discuss menial matters or having sleepovers as an excuse to make a move. He didn’t have the energy to bother. And so from orphan genius, he became the stuck-up genius. That was okay with him. He had been called worse names before.

He didn’t know when it exactly started, but the yard behind the library had turned into his refuge. No one really visited it because of the tall piles of recycled materials, but there was a small clearing hidden by thick vines and untended trees. There, Sasuke found small minutes of peace.

Past the shrubbery and the foliage and the fence, one can see the lake behind the school. It was deep and wide enough that dragonboat teams would practice in it during summer. Couples would frequent it after school hours and think no one can see the kisses, the hand-holding, the hugs. Beyond the lake was a museum he frequented when he was a child, and then the city center wherein all roads connected to the train station. One can get on it, travel for three stations, and disembark on the fourth. It usually took thirty minutes if one strictly walked on the streets, but Sasuke would cut across the mini-bamboo forest in that area, emerge behind the bakery, still have the time to buy his favorite cream puffs, walk past two houses, and arrive at their family house. It was closed since then, the sales proceedings wrapping up after months. It would take another three years for the trust fund to be entirely turned over to him. By that time, he would be safely out of the clutches of his memories.

His exclusive space and time for musings was suddenly cut off in the middle of the school year when Naruto accidentally stumbled upon him eating an egg sandwich for lunch. Sasuke heard distant screams from the usual troublemakers and saw the silent plea on Naruto’s face. It wasn’t hard to know who they were looking for. He angled his head towards the blonde who was sweaty, had cuts on his arms, and twigs on his hair. Naruto flashed him an apologetic grin and crawled to his side.

“They said my laughter was annoying.” Naruto fixed his almost tattered clothes and laid on the grass. “Quite an oasis you have here.”

Sasuke sighed, too defeated right now to muster a retort. He fished another sandwich from his pocket and gave it to Naruto. “Eat.”

“Grumpy! You are a lifesaver!” He grinned sheepishly and ravaged the food in big bites.

“Keep your voice down, will you?” Sasuke snapped. “By the loudness of it, one won’t need a tracker to find you.” He opened his water bottle for a drink but that too was stolen by a choking Naruto.

“Sorry about that. I’ll pay you when my stipend arrives.”

“Never mind that.”

Finally full, Naruto went back to lying on the grass and closed his eyes for a quick nap. Sasuke saw the bruises on his knuckles and smirked. This kid can fight.

So he is on scholarship too.

“Uchiha Sasuke. That’s your name, right?” Naruto still had his eyes closed, enjoying the light breeze, and the silence that ensued when the troublemakers left the area.

“What about it?” He was waiting for the patronizing statements or the pity looks.

“We’re the same,” Naruto muttered, kind of like a matter-of-fact. “You just had the better side of the coin. Wished I had the board scholarship, but I’m bad at studying.”

The board scholarship was inevitable. Albeit being public in a sense, it was awarded to him as some sort of posthumous act because his father was a member. It was an open secret among the school officials, but he wasn’t sure if the students caught up on it yet. He wondered what common denominator tied him to Naruto. “So what do you have then?”

Naruto opened one eye and smirk. “Are you interested in knowing me?”

The school bells rang. Time’s up for lunch break and Sasuke’s impulsive interrogation. Looking back, he felt some kind of humiliation because he was explicitly giving interest in someone else’s life, however minute it was.

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His peaceful abode didn’t revert back to the way it was. Naruto had invaded it as his hiding place from the bullies. He would come sometimes with an onigiri or a sandwich but most of the time, empty-handed. Before Sasuke could pick up on their previous conversation, the blonde would fall asleep, or at least pretend to. Absent parents then, he thought, noting the absence of prepared lunch and frequent convenience store purchases. Like him. He confirmed this the following day when he heard the bullies attacking him on the hallway.

“You should die, orphan kid. No one would miss you anyway.” A bald student aimed to kick him on the stomach, but Naruto blocked this with his arms. There was a reserved glare in his eyes, but before he could return the attack, two other kids forced his arms to open and give access to the target point. Sasuke found his feet walking briskly towards the scene, his hands ready to grab Naruto’s collar to safety.

“Sakura!” Students yelled out in confusion. A pink flash in his periphery.

She kicked the attacking student on the back with such force that reeled him forward to the ground, definitely knocking a tooth out and him unconscious. She planted both of her feet on his prone body and glared at his backup. “Bullying has no space in this school. Let go of him or I’ll tell the faculty to raise your disciplinary actions to suspension.” She was assertive, her every step unwavering in front of crisis.

Sasuke briefly wondered if she wouldn’t get disciplinary action as well for kicking a student. Well, she could frame it as self-defense. As if on cue with his thoughts, several teachers came to the scene and took the bullies to the faculty room, including Sakura.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Naruto yelled. He was supported with muffled agreements from other witnesses.

“Don’t worry about me. What’s important is you’re safe,” she flashed him a wink and waved goodbye. Sasuke can only see Naruto’s back, but he guessed the blonde dude was smiling from ear to ear and probably blushing. He also saw that she limped. Quite devious of her to distract everyone with that smile and that cherry pink hair in a ponytail.

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Naruto was whistling when he joined Sasuke behind the library the next day. He didn’t have a sandwich or onigiri with him, but he had a bento lunch box. He must have seen Sasuke’s slight quick eyebrow raise because he immediately boasted about it.

“Sakura gave this to me!” Naruto showed it around like it was a product advertisement. “She said she made it herself! I feel loved.” He then hugged it like a child would a prized teddy bear.

“Wow, that escalated quickly.” Sasuke was feeling snarky. He continued munching on his sandwich. For today, it was tuna and cheese flavor.

“I might have a crush on her! The way she kicked that bully to the ground was such a sight to see. I think all of us in our class already admire her.” Sasuke didn’t reply. She was the hot topic in his classroom, along the halls, and at the school gates. Everyone was gushing about her bravery and her contrasting personality from her feminine looks, as if strength and beauty was so sparingly exclusive.

“Maybe she felt sorry for you.”

“Would take her kind of pity any other day.” Naruto opened the bento lunch box, the aroma arresting the two boys’ senses. Rice seasoned with shiso, karaage chicken, a small piece of salmon, lettuce wrap, tamagoyaki, and potato salad. How she fit them all inside a small container was a mystery, but it was an amazing food presentation that even Sasuke’s mouth instinctively watered at the sight.

“She wasn’t overbearing at all. She just greeted me this morning while introducing herself, handed me a bento box and left in time for the school bell. As if I didn’t know her already.” Naruto brought the bento box closer to his nose and made a loud sniffing noise. “Maybe she likes me?”

Sasuke grimaced outwardly. “Get lost. She likes everyone.”

Naruto laughed. “That’s true. That’s true. She’s the kind of person that everyone wants and wants everyone. Since you’re letting me share your hideout, want to share this box?”

Sasuke fished out some tamagoyaki slices and karaage and directly placed them in his mouth. He stared at Naruto, expecting him to get angry but the blonde was happily devouring the dishes as well. They both nodded in approval of the taste. For a moment, they tasted again the joy of homemade cooking. Two orphans in a secluded area, hiding from the realities of the world, comforted by the works from the distant hands of a stranger.

That afternoon, Sasuke went back to that hideout, not wanting to go home with his classmate. His attention perked up when he heard some heavy footfalls near the area.

“Kakashi-sensei?” The voice was familiar. He heard it several times already, but he can’t connect a face. “You don’t have to do this really. It’s quite embarrassing.”

“Well, who was stupid enough to physically fight bullies in school and in plain sight? Look at your leg. You cannot even walk.”

It was her and Hatake Kakashi, the handsome Math teacher who loved reading on his free time, the teacher with sleek silver hair, the teacher all female students liked. Of course.

“It’s amazing how you noticed it, Sensei.”

“I’m your homeroom teacher, Sakura. Of course, I’ll notice the welfare of my students. You should have called in sick. Now, will you let me bring you to the school clinic?”

“Sorry about that, Kakashi-sensei.”

It wasn’t the voice of an inconvenienced student. It was the giddy voice of a girl with a budding crush. Their comfort stranger being comforted by another stranger.

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The bullies went back to school after a month of suspension, just in time for the final exams before the winter vacation. Sasuke noticed that the bullies didn’t touch him even though he was an orphan himself. Acting with this knowledge, he started not to mind the greetings of Naruto whenever he would pass by his classroom. He would even sometimes walk with him in the hallways, earning weird looks from his schoolmates, because why would the stuck-up genius hang out with bully-magnet Naruto?

One caught on their weird connection. The two of them were walking towards the cafeteria when they passed by Sakura. Sasuke noticed she was no longer limping. She spent the whole month with a bandage around her ankle, and students would gush in concern over her. He found it comedic that they only showed this empathy when the bandage was visible and not immediately after that encounter when she was obviously in pain. It was brief but their gazes locked with each other, and she flashed him a smile. Naruto was too busy ranting on making up for extra classes so he didn’t notice her. Was the smile intended for him? Sasuke quickly shrugged this off, remembering Naruto’s comment about her being wanted by everyone, and also his incidental eavesdropping on her and Kakashi.

The annual cultural festival soon came around. This was one activity he was actually waiting for – he would skip and spend the whole week holed up in his apartment, but fate apparently wanted a different scenario. Naruto was their year’s head errand boy. Under him were other errand volunteers. When Sasuke saw the head coordinator for their batch, he understood the reason why. Haruno Sakura tied a red ribbon around her forehead and directed instructions to everyone.

He was too late when he realized this. “Uchiha Sasuke!” She knew his name, dammit.

She was dressed down to a white shirt two sizes too big for her with sleeves rolled up and jogging pants under her skirt. She handed him a hammer and pointed to the structure they were building. “Uchiha Sasuke, that’s your name, right? I’m pretty sure you heard me loud and clear.”

He grunted to himself and took the hammer from her hand. “I’m not deaf.”

“You just need to secure those two wood pillars on this scaffolding. More hands, the better, the faster.” He didn’t know if she was talking to him or to her companions. It didn’t actually bother her if there wasn’t any response. She continued pounding on the nail, pausing for a few seconds and looked at him. “You know how to use the hammer, right?”

You’re amazingly burdensome, Sasuke thought. He sighed, dejected at this sudden turn of events, and hammered his frustrations away. They continued to work in silence, well at least he was quiet. Every now and then, she would give instructions from her position, keeping everyone in check and in track of the year’s progress. It was in the middle of this particular moment that she missed and hammered her own finger. Sasuke waited for her to yell in pain, wince, or withdraw her hand from the task, but she continued as if nothing happened.

Sasuke pounded the last nail in its place, finishing his part before anyone else. He turned to Sakura’s side and saw that she was still working, rather slowly, and she was hiding the finger she hit. He pushed her away the second she paused for a break and ignored the hushed protests.

“That’s my part, Sasuke. Why are you working on it?”

He quickly finished attaching the remaining wood pillars, took both of their hammers, and returned them to the toolbox. He was eager to be rid of this task, but there was something tricky he needed to do.

“I guess I should thank you,” Sakura said, shyness somehow showing through her usual energetic demeanor.

He grabbed her hand and placed a few band-aids on her palm. Before she could say anything and demand more work from him, he quickly walked away.

“I’ll beat you in the exam ranking though!” She shouted after Sasuke, a statement which made him smile.

That was how he would describe his first year of high school and the start of his unintended relationships.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 2

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #narusaku #kakasaku #haruno sakura #uchiha sasuke #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #fleshing out friendship plots!#i love introspective sasuke #ball of sunshine naruto #competitive sakura #sakura #sasuke #naruto #kakashi

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