#the adrenaline and excitement over finally being able to wake up from this bad nightmare charging them forward

[doortotomorrow]

LEON + ASHLEY - Island escape

[bvidzsoo]

Late night Drifts

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warning: physical abuse (nothing descriptive); swearing

 Pairing: Hansol Vernon Chwe x female reader

 Word count: 18, 157

 Summary:  Being top of your class was everything your parents have ever wanted. You were the perfect daughter, however, it was only them who were happy. Your life was stressful and filled with sleepless nights studying, just to please your parents. Until one day you discovered racing, and realized, it was the only way you could unwind all the accumulated stress. And it just so happened that one day you overheard your classmate, Vernon, talking about an illegal race taking place that night. You knew it was your cue, so with rolled up cash left on his desk, you made it clear you were challenging him. He wins = he gets a date / You win = he teaches you how to drift.

 A/N: Hello, hello lovelies! And off we go with the first part of this series! I tried out something different this time, I hope it’s not weird and it’s still good, I’m a little nervous about it tbh. All the sentences in italic are the reader’s direct thoughts! I’ve never written in second person before so uhm...I hope it’s still fine. I hope you’ll like it and please let me know your thoughts. If there are people interested, I could even start a Taglist, I guess! Enjoy now!

Series M.List ~ Next Part

           When younger, you’d quietly complain to yourself about having to wake up early in the morning, around 6 am, just to have breakfast with your parents; but as the years passed it just became a routine. You weren’t bothered by it anymore, sometimes, you’d even wake up earlier than you were supposed to. Like today, at 5:30 am, your eyes were wide open as you stared up at the platinum white ceiling of your huge bedroom. You knew it was the anxiety making you feel like this, the fear of having to face your father and mother today seemed to be more intense than usually, after all, you were getting your grading sheet at school. You hated days like today, you hated getting your grades. It was horror to sit through school, anxious, only to return home to get yelled at by your father, because once again, you failed to score higher at English than Vernon. Vernon Hansol Chwe. He was your nightmare at school. It wasn’t what he did directly to you, because there were almost little to no incidents, it’s what he indirectly made you go through. You hated him, but didn’t at the same time. It wasn’t his fault, and you were aware of that, but you couldn’t help the glare or sudden anger that engulfed you whenever you looked at him. If he only wasn’t as good at English as he was, all the torment from your parents would’ve been non-existent.

You were the perfect daughter, the one every parent wished to have and every parent praised whenever they met up with your parents and you. You were perfect, in their eyes, yes. You always listened to what your parents said, you didn’t talk back or disobeyed them, and most importantly, you always pleased them and got high grades. It would’ve been a shame if you didn’t, your father was a scientist and your mother a doctor. They wanted you to become either this or that, but you, you didn’t know. You had no idea what you actually liked doing, you never really had hobbies or free time to try out different things like any other normal kid did while growing up. That is, until, you stumbled upon some abandoned race tracks and saw a woman in her car going at a high speed, drifting around the curbs, and sporting the happiest and most careless expression you’ve ever seen on someone’s face. It struck you, you never felt like that before. You wanted to feel like that so badly. You just ran away from home, with the excuse that you joined a new study group to help you out with Chemistry, but the truth was that you just needed air and time away from your overwhelming parents. You weren’t even supposed to be in this part of the city, people could smell from miles away that you were rich and just by stealing your purse, they’d make millions. But you didn’t care, because in this part of the city, it seemed like people only stared at your for what you looked like, without too judgmental looks on their faces. It was weird, but refreshing. After the woman stopped, got out of the car and ruffled her long hair, you gathered all your courage and walked up to her, and asked her to take you on a round with herself. She was reluctant, but once she saw the desperate look in your eyes, she obliged and you were inside her car, screaming your lungs out at all the sharp and harsh turns she took. It was scary, but freaking awesome. You felt high on adrenaline and when she stopped the car, her name being Lexa, you begged her to teach to drive like that. Your driving instructor never taught you about speed, but this woman seemed to know it all. Lexa was reluctant, but she complied once again, when she saw the desperate look in your eyes. And that is how you became obsessed with racing, cars, and chasing that adrenaline that made you feel free and careless. It was the only hobby you had, the only thing your parents couldn’t control in your life, simply, because they didn’t know about it. And you preferred to keep it that way, knowing well the repercussions if they ever found out. But for you to be able to attend the events and races, you needed a good car. So, when you finished last year as first in your whole high school, your father granted your wish and bought you a Vaydor G37. The car was expensive, but freaking awesome. You knew you’d be better than half of the amateur racers, even though, you were one too. But for now, that didn’t matter, as you played with your fingers in your lap, waiting for the maid to place your breakfast in front of you. You could feel your father’s sharp gaze on you, but you ignored it as you glared at the table. Your mother hadn’t joined the table yet, that’s why you weren’t eating yet.

“John told me he had to change the tires to the Vaydor,” You looked up to meet your father’s gaze, knowing he hated it when you didn’t, “It’s the third time this month. Explain.”

You gulped, but kept your expression neutral, he can’t find out, “I didn’t pay attention when I got them changed and instead of the summer tires, they put on the winter ones. That was the first time. Second time, I got a puncture while I rode back home from school, a screw was left on the road from the new construction site and I didn’t know. And uhm…I’m not sure what was wrong the third time, but the vibrations coming from the tires felt wrong, I thought…it would be best to get them changed.” But the truth was that you raced too hard and burned out your tires, all adherence gone, which made it impossible for you to ride around the streets with them.

Your father didn’t say anything as he looked at you with a hard expression, tying to decipher if you were lying or saying the truth, “Safety comes first, Y/N, don’t forget that.”

“Yes, father.” You muttered and looked up at your mother as she walked in with a wide smile. Your father looked at her and his eyes instantly turned soft and he waited until she sat next to him, to press a kiss to her cheek. He was only ever like that to her, kind and lovely, never to you. You honestly thought your father hated you because you weren’t born to be a boy, like he so desperately wanted. Yet, he never tried to have another child with your mother, you figured he had enough of you and just didn’t want to bother with raising another kid. Your mother looked at you just as the maids finally walked in with your breakfast, placing the plates in front of you. Your stomach rumbled quietly and it made your mom chuckle as your father took the first bite, and then you both followed suit. It was the same old breakfast: toast with boiled eggs, a few slices of tomato and butter. Sometimes you’d get hot cocoa, if your father was in a good mood, but most of the time you were served with orange or apple juice. Today, water with lemon was served and as much as you were craving the taste of oranges, a little switch from your usually boring routine was nice, even if so small and almost insignificant.

“When will you know your grades?” Your father asked again, voice hard and you bit your lower lip as you lowered your knife and fork.

“Today, actually.” You answered, trying to hide the tremor in your voice, but it was pretty obvious.

“Great, I will make sure to come home early then.” He said and the grip on your knife tightened as you tried to hide the anger and fear mixing together in your stomach, hating the words your father said. But it made your mother squeal as she smiled at him brightly.

“That’s amazing news, honey! Let’s go have dinner, shall we?” She was the only excited one, your father actually started glaring at you, and you realized it was because you were glaring at him. Sometimes, your control over your body slipped and you did things subconsciously.

“Yes,” Your father spoke, turning his head away from you to look at his wife, “Let’s go have dinner, Y/N should—”

“I have a study group at 18:00 today, I won’t be able to join you, I’m sorry.” You interrupted your father, not caring right now that he hated being interrupted by you, as you let your parents know in a hurry that you weren’t available today. And actually, you weren’t even lying. You really did have to study for English, you hated to say it, but you were feeling uneasy after your last exam and thought you could work on it. A new guy from America showed up two weeks ago, DK, and when you heard he offered to help out those in need, you knew you needed to sign up. Vernon was from America too, that’s why you never could beat him, he was better as he was fluent. Your mother was American too, but she never bothered to teach you much English, either too busy with work or with your father. She wasn’t a bad mom, just neglectful sometimes.

“You study so hard, my dear.” Your mother’s arm extended over the mahogany table and you extended your own arm, letting her grip it, “How about this…if you get a good grade for your English exam, we go on a small vacation this weekend?”

That actually sounded wonderful, you couldn’t help but smile, warmness filling your insides. You missed spending time with your mom, but of course, your father had to ruin it all.

“We shouldn’t…I can’t this weekend.” Of course, he couldn’t. The only important things for him were work, antagonizing you, and taking your mother on expensive dates.

“Honey,” Your mother let go of your arm to cup her husband’s cheek, “It’s not a crime if the two of us spend a little time together, it’s been long since we had a mother-daughter get-away, right, Y/N?”

You quietly nodded your head, hopeful that your father would let it slide this time, but of course, he wouldn’t, “If Y/N scores a 10/10, you can go.”

You gulped, hating how trusting your mother’s gaze was, how happy she looked, “Of course, honey, she’ll definitely get the highest score. She’s our daughter after all…”

Yes, unfortunately, I’m your daughter.

           After breakfast you quickly got dressed for school, your uniform still warm from getting ironed a few minutes before you had to put it on. You hated wearing skirts to school, but you had no other choice as it was in the dress code. You fixed your hair and painted your lips a soft pink, smiling to yourself in the mirror. Not because you were happy, but because you didn’t want everyone to see how miserable you were. You didn’t have any friends; besides Yoona, you didn’t want any more rumors than the ones already circulating around you. They said all kinds of things about you, but neither was true. They weren’t necessarily bad, besides the one calling you a freak and saying you broke someone’s hand in your freshman year; you didn’t. But people weren’t very fond of you nonetheless and you didn’t want to add onto the list of why you should be more disliked than you already were. You knew the smile looked far from genuine, but it was better than nothing, it lessened the harsh expression of your face. It probably got like that due to your father’s constant pressure hanging over your shoulders.

The car ride was silent, John stirring up casual conversation with your father from time to time, as he drove you to school before driving your father to work. Your car was still in the car-service, actually, Jihoon got a new engine that you were more than happy to test out for him. He was the one who approached you, surprisingly, after your first won race. He said he liked your car and could smell the money from miles away; he offered to help out with your car if you raced on his behalf from time to time. You seriously didn’t need the money, but it sounded like fun and it was weird how impressed everyone was by Jihoon talking to you, so you accepted out of curiosity. It took you a month to realize he was part of the Lee family, being the eldest son actually, and that they owned the streets at night when racing. He truly was the best, both at racing and fixing cars. Sometimes you’d even drop off cash anonymously at his house, when you wouldn’t need it anymore, and you had a feeling he knew but stayed silent about it. Both of you knew that he needed the extra cash from time to time.

Your attention was brought to John when he stopped the car, unlocking the doors. You were parked at the front gates of your high school, you sighed as you grabbed the doorhandle of the car. Partially you were happy to be here just because you would be away from your father and mother.

“Y/N,” Your heart jumped to your stomach when your father called out your name, deep voice booming in the car, “If you don’t score 10/10, I will have to believe you are incompetent and unable to perform well in a private high school. If you don’t raise your score by the end of the semester, your name will be cut from the family tree and I will throw you out without a second thought.”

A cynical smirk appeared on your lips as you opened the door and turned to look at your father, “You can’t throw out a minor, father, unless you want me to go to the police and press magazines. I’m sure they are buzzing to know more about the mysteriously wealthy and handsome Mr. Seo, don’t you think?”

His jaw clenched and John gulped loudly, shaking his head as subtly as he could at you, as you hurriedly got out of the car. You never talked back to your father, you had no idea what came over you, but you felt so fed up with his threats. If only he knew cutting ties with him sounded like heaven to you. You didn’t care if you ended up on the streets as long as it was away from him, you were never hungry for money or greedy for it. You didn’t care about it, you just wanted love from the two figures who were supposed to raise you. Instead, one hated you and the other one was barely ever home.

“Have a good day at work, both of you.” You bowed deeply before closing the door of the vehicle, staring at the tinted window of the backseat. You waited until John drove away and you couldn’t see the car anymore. A strong gush of cold wind suddenly blew through the area and it made you realize that you were glaring at nothing, once again. You hated how little consideration he took of your feelings and how little he made you feel. Your father truly was the devil.

            Yoona’s schedule was rather packed on Monday’s and Wednesday’s, so you couldn’t meet up with her during classes. Which maybe was a good idea, poor girl, you hoped she didn’t think you only used her to have someone to complain to, but you seriously had no one else to talk to. You loved Yoona and how open she was and ignorant to the rumors about you, she was always quick to shut others up. She was only a year older, yet she felt like a mother to you sometimes.

The day passed by incredulously fast and you made sure to take notes in each class, until it was homeroom class time. Your legs were bouncing up and down nervously and loudly as you tried not to bite your nails, a bad habit you were trying to get rid of. Usually, you weren’t this nervous, but your father reminding you of his threat this morning and your reckless answer made you realize if you indeed didn’t score 10/10 at English, you were truly fucked, and you hated the sudden ache of your stomach. It seemed like you were the only one so stressed out as your classmates kept shouting around you, joking and chatting, making your ears ring. All you could do was stare at the door anxiously, waiting for your homeroom teacher to enter this damned classroom already. But the bell didn’t even ring yet, it’s still break time, you sighed and bit your lower lip, trying to calm your nerves. You didn’t mean to, but your eyes fell on a boy and your eyebrows instantly furrowed. His right arm was resting on his desk, his right cheek on it as he slept. He looked so peaceful and carefree that it angered you more. How could he just sit there, sleep there, when you were about to get your grades? You knew he didn’t give a shit about his grades, yet he was always top of your class, breathing down your neck all the time. When you started high school, you never thought you’d meet someone almost as smart as you, and that you’ll be challenged. But Vernon…he just wrecked your life and made it a bigger hell than it already was, and tears almost came to your eyes as you couldn’t look away from his peaceful form. You were jealous and angry, wishing that could be you right now. As your eyes lingered on him, you realized, his cheekbones were high and sharp, almost hollow looking like. You hardly ever paid attention to guys, you didn’t have the time nor energy to put into them, but sometimes you caught yourself dozing off and staring at the back of Vernon’s head. He wasn’t special, far from it, he looked quite normal yet his beauty felt a little foreign, compelling. That was another reason to hate him for, and you never thought more of it, content with the current thoughts of him. You didn’t like him, but you didn’t deny that he was somewhat attractive either. Yet, your heart still started thumping quickly when Vernon’s eyes opened abruptly and made eye contact with you almost instantly, as if he knew you were staring. You averted your eyes and straightened your stance, refusing to look back at the boy, even if he continued staring at you. You never really spoke to him, you didn’t have a reason to, only greeted him in the mornings if you arrived after him…but you did greet everyone, after all. Your legs started bouncing again as Vernon wouldn’t look away and it made the hairs on your arms raise, your anxiety doubling. Why is he staring now? Does he think I like him or something? Maybe he knows I don’t like him? But your attention was brought back to the door as it opened just as the bell rang, and your homeroom teacher in walked. The voices in the classroom started dying down and even Vernon looked away from you, siting up straight in his chair. You were glad, you didn’t think you’d be able to ignore him for longer if your teacher wouldn’t have walked in. You donned out every voice that was still speaking, you even ignored your teacher’s usual speech about how grades weren’t important and that they didn’t actually reflect your knowledge about life…if only he knew what he was speaking. So, you just sat there silently, anxiously waiting for your sheet.

Which turned out to be more and more difficult as you were amongst one of the last ones, for once, making you hate the fact that your family name was ‘Seo’. You have successfully eaten three nails by the time your teacher called out your name and you raised from your chair, legs feeling a bit like jelly, as you rigidly walked up to his desk to take the sheet from him. Your hands shook and you hoped no one noticed, but when you turned to walk back to your seat, you were surprised to see Vernon squinting his eyes at you as he was watching you, once again. Did I draw too much attention onto myself by looking at him? This wasn’t the first time though, why is he suddenly so attentive of me? You ignored his burning gaze as you finally started walking back to your seat, gripping the sheet tightly in your hands. You were curios but also afraid to look. Vernon got his sheet a while ago and you tried to read his expression, but he only shrugged and placed the sheet between his notebooks, seemingly unimpressed. You were hopeful it was because he scored lower this time, but you couldn’t be very sure, he reacted the same way each time.

Finally sitting in your own chair, you took in a deep breath and opened the sheet, staring at the names of the subjects and then the grade next to it.

“Don’t forget kids, I tell you this each time, but I feel like saying this again. Grades don’t define us and you can be whoever you want to be in life, or do whatever you want to do, despite the grades on that paper—”

Your whole body ran cold as your hands started shaking hard, chest constricting as if your lungs stopped getting enough air to be able to function. Your eyes ran over and over again the same row, your brain refusing to acknowledge the information. English: 9,55. You hated what you were seeing, you hated what your teacher was saying, you hated how carefree and light everyone around you seemed to be, you hated Vernon’s gaze burning into the side of your head. You suddenly couldn’t bear sitting in that classroom anymore, it seemed rowdy and hot, your head started pounding painfully as you jumped up from your chair, knocking two notebooks and your sheet off the table. All the eyes on you made your chest tighten further and your eyes snapped towards your teacher when you heard him calling out to you.

“Miss Seo, is everything alright?” You really wanted to answer him, but when you opened your mouth to say something, nothing came out. Embarrassed and unable to take the looks you were getting by your classmates, Vernon’s confused gaze, you stepped around your chair and took off, uncaring of the repercussions. Your teacher called out your name once again, sounding more worried this time, and you glared at Vernon when he still didn’t look away, knocking onto his table on purpose, which made his pencil case and notebook fall to the floor. And with that, you were out of the classroom and running towards the girls restroom, hearing footsteps following you hurriedly. You knew your teacher sent someone after you to make sure that you wouldn’t do anything reckless, and it made you want to cry that your own teacher was more worried about your wellbeing than your own parents. You hoped the person realized you ran out because you wanted to be alone, and that they wouldn’t follow you inside the restroom, and when they actually didn’t, you broke down crying in front of the mirror, turning on the faucet to silence your sobs a little bit. I don’t want to go home.

           You hated the looks your classmates were giving you after your breakdown, but some were nice enough to check up on you. You didn’t like the attention and the fact that you had to lie to them, but it warmed your heart a bit that not everyone was heartless and mean to you. You were surprised to see your things neatly placed in your bag after you returned from the restroom with a girl, Hanna, who your homeroom teacher sent after you to keep you company until you felt better. You wanted to ask who did that, because you wanted to thank them, but decided to stay quiet and just lay low for the rest of the day as rumors of you already spread through school like wildfire. You hated it, but you tried to ignore them…and Vernon too. He shot you a questioning gaze after you got back to class, but you acted like he wasn’t even there. Your gut was telling you that it was him who gathered your stuff from the floor and placed it back into your bag, but why would he do that? You were never very nice to him, and you even knocked his stuff off on purpose when you ran out. Fed up with your constant thoughts of Vernon and what others would say now about you, you blocked everything out and hurriedly gathered your things once the final bell rang, signaling that school was over for the day. You were glad that you could finally leave this place, but your stomach ached when you remembered you had to return home, to meet your father. Running away right now sounded like the smartest thing to do, but once you left your high school, you stopped and looked up towards the sky. The sun was high up and shinning down, creating a warm atmosphere and you looked around to observe that everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Kids were laughing and hanging onto their friends as they groaned about how hard school could get, others kids were excitedly talking about what homecooked meal their mothers made, and some were just hurriedly leaving through the gates. You smiled, but it was a sad smile, because you never experienced any of those feelings. You wished your mother would be at home, waiting for you with a homecooked meal, and that your father would arrive earlier from work and praise you for your grades, deciding to take the three of you out to the arcades. But those were dreams you’d never experience, and rather than continuing to hurt yourself with such fantasies, you took off with a sigh. You followed the path that lead to the iron gates of the high school and bowed your head a little to greet the gatekeeper, who was happy to see you. Not many kids were respectful toward the old man, but you didn’t think lower of him just because of his job, sometimes you’d sneak cookies from home and share them with him. As the weather was a lot warmer than in the morning, you took your scarf off and gasped when something hit your shoulder. You were expecting someone to be picking on you, but when you turned your head and looked at the girl leaning against the stone wall, you let a chuckle fall from your lips.

“I told you to throw your garbage in the trash cans, Yoona.” You scolded the older girl, picking up her cigarette butt to throw it into the nearest trash can later.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoona rolled her eyes, lighting another cigarette, “What the hell happened today? Your crazy classmates wouldn’t stop talking about how you stormed out after you got your grades.”

You grimaced as you leaned against the stone wall next to your friend, “I didn’t get a 10/10.”

Your answer was direct and Yoona sighed, glancing at you as she puffed out the smoke of her cigar. She knew about your parents, but not the whole truth. She only knew about them being obsessed with your grades and that they were very controlling and harsh to you. You didn’t dare tell her the other things, afraid she’d do something about it, getting you in more trouble.

“Oh, Y/N…” Yoona’s expression was sad and you melted into her hug as she put her arms around you, on the verge of crying, “If it feels too much later on, call me…or come to the races with me, you don’t have to compete or anything. Just be there.”

You hummed and circled your arms around your friend, feeling a bit better as Yoona’s familiar perfume entered your nostrils, “It’s a Wednesday, you know I can’t go out…and I have an English tutor now, we are meeting later for our first session.”

“Oh, really?” Yoona’s interest peaked as she finally pulled herself away from you, patting your cheek, “Do I know him?”

“Maybe, it’s this new guy from America…calls himself DK.” You muttered, puckering your lips at the hilarious name he went by. Yoona’s expression hardened and she scoffed as she finished her cigar, not looking very pleased.

“You know him?” You asked curiously, Yoona not being one to dislike someone.

“Of course,” She rolled her eyes and pushed off the stone wall, dragging her leather jacket tightly around her body, “He’s in my class. He’s very annoying, tries hard to befriend everyone and won’t shut up. He’s not even smart, most of the time only says stupid things—”

“Okay,” You raised up one hand to stop Yoona from rambling, throwing her an amused smile, “What did he do to you that you don’t like him?”

Yoona just rolled her eyes, displeased by how much you knew her already, “He’s all up in my business, won’t leave me alone after he heard me talking to my friend from the U.S. Fucking idiot…”

You started giggling loudly, making Yoona glare at you, but your laughter was contagious and she ended up giggling too, “You’ll figure it out, Yoona.”

“Yeah…hopefully before Johnny decides to smash in his nose.” Her tone turned sour and you gave her a pitiful look, knowing her relationship with Johnny hadn’t been the best lately. Yoona just sighed and you patted her side, reassuring her that you were there for her if she needed someone to complain to. The sudden sound of engine roaring caught your attentions and Yoona turned stiff, looking to the road, where a black car pulled up. The window rolled down and Johnny’s face came in view.

“Speaking of the devil…” You muttered quietly, making Yoona smirk at you.

“Hello, ladies.” Johnny greeted the two of you with a charming smile and Yoona looked at him before back at you.

“Want us to give you a ride home?” You appreciated her offer, but you didn’t know if your dad was already at home. He didn’t mind Yoona very much, he knew her parents, but he hated Johnny and actually forbid you from meeting up with him or with them when they were together. You didn’t want to test the waters furthermore today; you had already done enough in the morning and now with your grade too.

“No, no,” You shook your head quickly, declining her offer nicely, “You can go. I have to pick up some books either way, you don’t have to bother with me…”

Yoona nodded and took off towards her boyfriend’s car, but when she opened the door, she turned back to look at you and mouthed, “Liar.”

You chuckled and waved at them as Johnny gave you a nod before pressing a strong kiss against your best friend’s lips, leaving her with a sour expression as he rolled the window up and took off, the engine of the car creating disturbance to the pedestrians. You looked down at the other cigarette butt Yoona dropped and picked it up with a sigh, dropping it into your pocket, where the other one was. She never listened to you when you told her to throw them away into a trash can, so it became by now a routine to pick them up and throw them away yourself. You took off once again, headed home for real this time, your stomach churned nervously as you played with the cigarette butts in your pocket. Your parents knew you didn’t smoke, they stopped checking up on that since you turned sixteen, so you weren’t afraid of smelling like it. Besides, they knew most kids your age smoked and that it could just easily get into your clothes and hair when you walked by. You sighed at the thought of your parents and tried to enjoy the sun on your skin, welcomed after the cold winter you had. It was hard to walk home, because you were anxious, but the pleasant weather made you slow your usual long strides as you passed the corner of the high school and turned onto the next street. You took the two cigarette butts between your fingers and threw them into the trash can on the side walk as you walked by it, your scalp feeling itchy. Sometimes you made your ponytail too tight and it left your scalp sore, so you quickly undid the tight hold, releasing your long black hair. You thought of cutting it, it was slowly nearing the middle of your back, but your mother said a feminine woman needs her long hair, that it’s precious, and you should never wear it too short. That’s why your hair always reached your scapulas or even longer. I always wondered how I’d look with short hair…it can’t be that bad, right? Your thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly became aware that someone was walking right next to you. You became stiff and ready to speed up, uncomfortable, but when you stole a glance at the person walking next to you, your feet came to an abrupt stop. So did the person, who was scratching his nape awkwardly, looking at your guiltily.

“Uh, sorry.” Vernon’s voice was loud here, the cars and people walking by you were being loud, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me.” You answered him too quickly, body stiff as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, still…” He cleared his throat and you became curious, he never really spoke to you directly, unless you were paired up for a group project during class, “I just wanted to ask you…”

You raised your eyebrows, curiously looking at Vernon, a little annoyed that he was stalling, “What?”

“Are you alright?” Your eyebrows furrowed at his question and you glanced around, feeling uneasy. Why is he suddenly so curious about how I feel? It’s really not his business.

“I’m fine, why?” You snapped, crossing your arms in front of your chest in a way to show him you weren’t too fond of this conversation.

“Just wanted to check up on you.” Vernon muttered as he kept looking at you, the sunlight lighting his features. His skin had a warm glow and he was squinting as he was standing facing the sun, his brown eyes were lighter than you had anticipated them to be.

“Well…” You cleared you throat, feeling a bit flustered, “You didn’t have to.”

Vernon hummed and nodded his head a little, biting his lower lip, an action which caught your attention, “I know…you ran out of class and you didn’t look too good. Just wanted to make sure you’re better now—”

Your inhale was sharp and it alerted Vernon as your eyes snapped back up to look him in the eyes. Your heart was beating like crazy and you knew your face turned hard as Vernon gulped; you took a step to lessen the distance between the two of you, “Stay out of my business, Vernon, you already make my days a nightmare as they are.”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, clearly taken aback by your threatening tone and sentence, not having expected such hostility coming from you. After all, he never did anything wrong to you…directly. He looked lost for a second, you felt bad for being so mean to him, but before he could form a sentence, you turned and rushed away, willing yourself to catch the green cross light, which would turn red by the time Vernon realized you were running away and would stop him from following you. Your heart was beating fast as you turned to look back, to see him standing at the cross dumbfounded, his eyebrows furrowed as he raised one hand as if to ask you to wait for him. You were pretty good at reading people; you had anticipated his moves. You shook your head at him and took off, Vernon losing sight of you in the mass of people walking on the sidewalk.

           You were studying in your room when you heard the front door open and slam closed. Your hands suddenly started shaking as your mother’s laughter carried through the big apartment you lived in, your father’s voice next as he answered her question. You dreaded this moment, you knew it was coming, but you were hoping it would come later. You knew your father was expecting you in his study, so, you rose from your desk and pulled your hair in a low ponytail. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hated your expression; anyone would be able to see how scared you looked. You started glaring at yourself, trying to stop this horrible feeling brewing inside you, as you pointed a finger at yourself in the mirror.

“Stop it!” You snapped at yourself quietly, “Whatever happens, happens. Walk out there with your head up and don’t say anything unnecessary!”

When you heard your mother’s heels clicking getting closer and closer, you quickly grabbed the sheet and hurried to your door, opening it just as your mother raised her knuckle to knock.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed with a wide smile and placed her palm on your cheek, “Looking pretty today, how do you feel?”

You remained expressionless as you looked at your mother, jealous of her good mood, “Fine, I’ll go see father now.”

“Oh, right!” She exclaimed again and stepped out of your way, shooing you away, “We are supposed to leave in thirteen minutes for our date, don’t keep him up! Also, we should look for some vacation cabins in the mountains for our get-away—”

“We are not going anywhere!” You snapped and turned your head to look at your mother, jaw clenched. How could she not pick up on my mental state? How could she not read my expression when I’ve been hers for seventeen years? When she was my mother?

“Oh…” She cleared her throat, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Why…”

“I didn’t get the grade.” You muttered and sighed, taking off towards your father’s office. It was on the other end of the apartment and you had time to even out your expression and calm your erratic heartbeat for at least a while. When you stopped in front of the big, black, door you took a deep breath and ignored your mother, who was headed to their shared bedroom, and knocked on your father’s office door. There was a grunt coming from inside and you knew it was your cue to walk in, so, you opened the door with more force than needed and walked in, leaving the door open. He hated it, but you felt like you’d need to escape tonight, it made you feel safer. Your father glanced at his door and then at you before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. You didn’t sit as you came to a stop in front of his desk, just reached your hand out for him to take the sheet. He nodded once and took it, eyes running over the paper. Your heart started beating quickly once again and you clasped your hands behind your back to stop yourself from biting your other nails you didn’t get to in school. Involuntarily, your left foot started tapping against the floorboards of the office and you gulped as you looked straight ahead when your father’s eyes fell on you.

“What did I say?” His voice was hard, sheet crumbled up in his hands. Don’t answer him, let him scream at you, “I thought I was clear.”

When he fell silent you didn’t know what to do or say, so you just let your head hang low, avoiding eye contact with your father, “You are telling me that you’re unable to get a 10/10 at English? When your mother is American?! Is your brain perhaps too little for you to comprehend what you have to learn?! Are you dumb, Y/N?!”

That felt like the last straw. I’m not dumb, I’m more competent than you once were! Your eyes snapped up to meet your father’s, your glare melting into his, “How am I dumb? I got a 9,55, father! And I got a 10/10 at everything else! I’m top of my class and high school! What more do you want?!”

Your voice broke at the end of the sentence, and your body shook, you have never raised your voice at your father. He looked shocked for a second, but in a second also, he was up and storming around his desk to reach you.

“You ungrateful scum!” He shouted loudly, his deep voice made you jump, “I feed you! I give you money! I buy you clothes! I put a roof over your head! And this is how you pay me back? By talking back and thinking you are better than me?!”

“When did I ever say that—” The words died in your throat as the back of your father’s palm slammed into your cheek harshly. Your eyes widened as your head snapped to the other side, tears instantly sprung to your eyes. You remained like that, unmoving and quiet, fighting with your tears. I’d rather die than cry right now. Your father scoffed and you felt the sheet hit your head as he threw that at you as well, as he turned away from you.

“You have three months to fix your mistakes, Y/N. After that, I will not see you anymore in this house.” You gulped at his words, straightening once he walked away and you knew he wouldn’t hit you again. You remained in front of his desk as he walked towards his door, about to get changed for his date with your mother. A broken chuckle left your lips as you looked up at the ceiling, one single tear rolling down your cheek. Better make his life hell in those three months!

“I can’t wait to leave this fucking hell!” You hissed, unaware that your father didn’t leave the room yet. He hesitated taking his next step as he looked back at you with furrowed eyebrows, taken aback by your words.

“I wish I was never born into this fucking family.” At this point, you didn’t even care if he was still standing in the doorway or not, it just felt good to speak your mind aloud. You wanted to shout at the top of your lungs for your parents to hear what you had to say. You wanted everyone to know. I hate them. Your father gulped as he took one final look at you, his jaw clenched, before he shook his head and walked away with a scoff. All he could think of was that you were a spoiled, ungrateful brat. Meanwhile, all you could think of was the day you’d finally be able to run away. In three months, you’d turn eighteen, school would finally end, and you’d leave this shithole you hated with your whole heart. Screw them both, who gives a fuck about them anyways?

           That night you went to bed crying, which resulted in having a puffy face once you woke up. Your study session with DK wasn’t very successful and once he realized you just weren’t in the right state of mind to study, he dismissed you and set another appointment for next week, saying your English was almost better than his and that you didn’t even need tutoring. You knew that, but you were hopeful that if DK helps you out, on your next exam you’ll get a 10/10 just to spite your father before you move out. While crying, you have decided, that no matter what, in three months you were out of that place. You didn’t want to stay there anymore, you’d rent out a small apartment downtown, find a job and finish your last year of high school. You knew your mother would secretly support you and give you enough money to survive for months, but you didn’t want anything that was theirs anymore…especially their money. When you looked in the mirror to get ready for a new day, all you could do was sigh. Your eyes were big and red and you knew you’d have to spend half an hour just pouring cold water on them to make the swell go away. But when you pulled your hair in a bun, you knew the greenish-bluish bruise on your right cheekbone wouldn’t go away with cold water, you had to put on makeup. This is why you didn’t tell Yoona exactly everything about your family, especially your father, she would’ve reported it without a second thought. You disliked your parents, yes, but they were still your parents. Right now, they were everything you’ve got and you could make them suffer in different, much more effective ways. You decided to let your hair rest freely today, knowing it would offer more cover for your cheek, even if the expensive foundation and color corrector did their jobs fairly well. At breakfast you didn’t speak at all to your parents and you refused to ride with John and your father to school, taking the bus instead as you were running late a bit to be walking. You were in a bad mood all day and everyone could see it, even Yoona, who was a lot more cheerful than yesterday. She promised to hang out with you at lunch break and you were thankful, you felt like you needed to be in her presence today. Vernon was becoming plain annoying with his constant staring and his attempt to talk to you in one of the short breaks you had between classes, which alerted everyone from your class. You threw him a harsh glare and he understood that you wanted nothing to do with him, so he went back to his desk and left you alone for the rest of the day.

You were fixing your makeup before the lunch break arrived, your geography teacher let you off early today, as you stared into your small pocket mirror. You pulled your hair behind your ear as you took out the little cushion and started tapping it lightly against your cheekbone, not much of the foundation had come off, but you wanted to be sure. Especially since you were having lunch with Yoona. As you stared at yourself, your eyes looking lifeless, your ears picked up a loud voice greeting someone from your classroom. You looked up, curious, and your eyes fell on Vernon’s table. A darker blonde-haired boy, quite scrawny looking with dirty clothes, was leaning against Vernon’s desk. He looked younger than the two of you, maybe he was your age, but his complex gave him a boyish look. Vernon looked panicked as he stared at the boy, pinching his ear and making the boy cry out. A few of your classmates glanced at them, but no one seemed as invested and curious as you were. Vernon looked like he got caught doing something illegal, it definitely picked your interest. In your mind, Vernon was this perfect boy, perfect student, whom never did anything bad. Seeing that look on his face, you placed your mirror down on your desk and sneakily continued to watch them.

“Hyung, I’m just here to tell you something important!” The young boy exclaimed annoyed, earning a few more confused looks as he wasn’t wearing your high school’s uniform…or any for that matter. Is he not in school? He seems very young however…maybe he just skipped classes today? Vernon’s eyes widened and accidentally connected with yours and you quickly looked down, absentmindedly flipping through your long-forgotten fashion magazine. You felt his gaze remain on you for a few more seconds before it was gone; you peaked up at them to see the younger boy hunched over Vernon’s desk as he was articulately whispering something. Now, that made you even more curious about what they were speaking, and you looked back down at your magazine. A model you didn’t like had their picture on the page, so, you gripped it and tore the page out, crumbling the paper up. There, this should do for a good excuse to pass by them. You cleared your throat, feeling like you were about to commit a felony, and checked if anyone was watching you, but no one was. You hummed to yourself and looked around, trying to look innocent as you started slowly walking towards Vernon’s desk. Your heart started beating faster as your grip tightened on the paper and you slowed down even more once you could hear the boy’s high-pitched voice.

“Hyung, I’m not kidding! They said they’ll pay really well!” Pay well for what? Your eyebrows furrowed as you became intrigued, eager to find out more.

“I’m not racing against Jun anymore, why can’t you understand that?!” Vernon snapped quietly; his eyebrows were furrowed as he was glaring at his desk. The young boy sighed loudly and you actually stopped walking, standing just two feet away from them. Jun? Vernon is racing? Is this what I think it is?

“Come on, hyung!” The young boy whined and you jumped when something crashed in the back, the paper falling from your grip, “It’s tomorrow night, on a Friday, your mom won’t be pissed if we go racing—”

“Shut up!” Vernon’s voice was hard as you made eye contact. Your face must have said it all because Vernon didn’t look pleased, you heard something you weren’t supposed to. You cleared your throat and walked to the trash bin, feeling the little smirk creep onto your lips. Vernon races? How come I’ve never seen him before? Your thoughts became a whirlwind as you turned to walk back to your desk, eyes falling onto Vernon. He was glaring at you and suddenly you felt powerful, like you were in control of this situation. Vernon was racing Jun? Last month I beat Jun…that means…I can finally beat Vernon at something. You were suddenly pleased and even your mood got better, something you weren’t expecting to happen anytime soon. You didn’t have to think twice as the bell rang signaling it was time for lunch break. The young boy hadn’t left yet and it looked like Vernon was scolding him as you reached inside your backpack and felt around it. You gripped your sandwich first and then the cold rolled up material. You took both items out and your lips widened into a big smirk as your eyes fell on Vernon, who was busy talking to the boy. This is it. I can finally show him he isn’t better at everything. He’s not rich, I have a Veyron, it doesn’t matter what car he has, I will beat him without a doubt. You took off, gripping your things tightly as you were headed straight towards Vernon’s table. Him and the boy stopped whispering when they felt your presence behind them and they turned both to look at you. You slammed the big roll of cash on Vernon’s table, making their jaws drop as the young boy looked back at you as if you grew two heads out. You felt powerful and proud, so, with a wink directed at the young boy you brushed past him to find Yoona and enjoy your lunch with her. You knew Vernon understood your message.

           Classes passed by quickly and you were buzzing to get out of school, for once not even having thought of your parents since the incident with Vernon. You wanted to talk to him, but not at school, you didn’t want your classmates to start more unwanted rumors about you or Vernon. You might dislike him, but you didn’t want to drag him into unnecessary drama. So, you told Yoona that tomorrow you were going to the races and she was excited, telling you she’d be there too with Johnny and his crew, and that she’d cheer for you. She was proud of you and amused at the same time, she knew you disliked Vernon, so she understood how much this meant to you. It was childish, but Yoona didn’t judge you for it, even cheered you on, she could see something was wrong today. So, when you left the school gates, you walked down the street after you promised Yoona that she could drive you home tomorrow, and you turned the corner. You knew Vernon walked this way to get home, so you leaned against the stone wall of the school fence and took a deep breath in, suddenly confused why your heart was beating so fast. Am I nervous because I’m about to see Vernon? No, that’s stupid, I don’t have a reason to feel this way around him. You stood up straight when Vernon rounded the corner and his eyes fell on you, narrowing dangerously as he approached you. When he stopped in front of you, he remained silent and you rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to speak.

“I’m sure you know what I meant by that…” You trailed off and Vernon nodded wordlessly, “I’m challenging you to race.”

“I know.” Vernon nodded again, his voice seemed to be a lot deeper right now, and you didn’t even realize it when you blushed.

“I heard some rumors…” You started, trying to remain confident under his sudden intimidating gaze, “About a guy called Vernon who drifts better than Lee Seungkwan, is that you?”

A smirk appeared on Vernon’s lips and your eyebrows furrowed when your heartbeat picked up again, suddenly you felt hot standing under the sun, “It is me.”

You didn’t like the look on Vernon’s face, you felt like he knew he was making you flustered, so you took a step to be closer, “Well then, here’s my proposal…I win, you teach me how to drift. You win, I’ll go on a date with you.”

I can’t believe this is the proposal I’m making, I sound stupid. How do I know he wants to go on a date with me? Now I’m just blindly assuming and insinuating that he might like me, oh no…Your cheeks warmed up again and you hated the way Vernon started laughing, his mouth opening and showing his teeth.

“How do you know if I want to go on a date with you?” Vernon raised one eyebrow and you rolled your eyes, trying to mask your initial panic.

“Call it a hunch,” You answered back with a smirk, trying to fake your confidence that suddenly decided to disappear, “are you in or not?”

Vernon remained silent for a few seconds as his eyes ran over your face, his features softening. You bit your lower lip, feeling nervous all of a sudden as no boy looked at you like that before.

“I’m in.” He extended his hand for you to shake and you looked down at it, hesitantly shaking his hand. His grip was strong and warm, his palm surprisingly soft as it caressed yours, it was so much bigger. Your cheeks burned again and your eyebrows furrowed as you became angry at yourself and pulled your hand away, throwing Vernon a small glare. He seemed amused as you turned and stormed off, completely missing the smitten look Vernon was giving you.

           You woke up feeling excited, which was a foreign feeling, as you usually dreaded having breakfast with your parents. Last night you tried to nurse the bruise on your cheek with ice and ointment, but the colors were still there and you had to cover it with foundation once again. You let your hair hang freely once again and once you were dressed; you went out to have breakfast. Your parents weren’t in the dining room, so you headed to the kitchen, surprising the maids, and asked them to let you have breakfast there. They were hesitant but didn’t try to argue with you when they saw the genuine smile on your face; they could see how your mood was strangely good today and decided not to ruin it. After that, you skillfully creeped around the apartment, making sure to avoid your parents as you headed for school, your long strides taking you to school quickly. Yoona and you got there at the same time so you asked her to take you to Jihoon’s car-service after school, she said she’d drive you home today after all, as your Veyron was ready to be picked up for tonight’s race. Vernon seemed to be smug as he offered you a few smirks here and there throughout the day, and when you returned from the restroom, you found a protein bar on your desk. Confused, you looked around and watched your classmates, who weren’t paying much attention to you. Vernon wasn’t in the classroom and you sighed, about to sit, when Hanna waved her hand at you. You raised your eyebrows at her in question and she just pointed at Vernon’s table before at the protein bar. You understood what she tried saying and with red cheeks you slumped into your chair, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Your gaze fell on the protein bar and just as you poked it annoyed, Vernon walked in with two of his friends and his eyes fell on you. You threw him a glare and hid behind your long hair, refusing to let him see the blush on your cheeks, I blushed enough yesterday. His ego didn’t need to be further fed. You found it amusing how sure he looked of himself, you knew he was convinced that he’d win tonight, but you also knew he’d be a sore loser. You haven’t seen many people with expensive cars at the races, even if the engine is the one that counts, your Veyron just naturally was faster and better than most cars they owned. It was why you were able to win so many races until now and why Jihoon approached you in the first place. He was excited to see the new engine he installed in action tonight, he would sell it for big money if you win.

           Your parents were still out on their date when you left the apartment, you didn’t have to worry about them seeing you dressed ‘like a hooker’, as they called this style. It wasn’t even anything bad, just leather pants and a strapless crop top and your leather jacket. You wore your thick, plain, platformed boots so that you’ll seem taller but be able to drive at the same time. Once you got to the garage you smiled pridefully at your car as you unlocked it. You really loved the car; it was your most prized possession as it brought you many victories so far. Once you turned the car on, goosebumps appeared on your arms at the roar of the engine. It was humming loudly and it shook your car in the best way possible as you carefully drove out of the garage. You turned on the radio and chuckled when Yoona’s favorite song came on, rolling down the windows to let the chilly air of the night fill your car. You pulled your hair in a low ponytail so that it wouldn’t accidentally get in your face and disturb you, you were aware of what you did was dangerous. You were careful as you drove down the illuminated streets of Seoul, making sure you wouldn’t exceed the speed limit. Wouldn’t want to make your father hate you more and take your car away. You’d get there at least fifteen minutes earlier, and you’d lie if you said your stomach wasn’t whirling around due to nervousness. You gripped the wheel tightly as you shook your head, passing by a green light, trying to clear your mind. This really isn’t the time to be nervous about something that I will most definitely win. The engine change wasn’t very obvious, your car was actually a bit slower, but it still flew down the streets if you pressed the gas pedal. Jihoon assured you you’d definitely win, even with the slight change, and you promised to give half of the profit to him. Tonight, he was making good money, people would flock to him to buy this new engine which to them seemed like it was as fast as an original Veyron engine, people were easy to fool. You drove through downtown and past some warehouses, music getting carried to where you were currently, even though the meeting point was one block away. You slowed as you turned the next corner and shut the lights of the car off as the street was illuminated well enough by the lampposts but the reflectors brought by the people here too. The street you were on was a very long streets, on both sides were abandoned buildings, and cars were parked close to those building to leave space for the circulating cars, and people, to pass by. You honked softly and the mass of people in front of you started fleeing out of your way, creating a straight path for you to the start line. You slowly rolled by them, the loud music coming from different car speakers could be felt even in your car, you picked up on the slight vibrations. People who knew you greeted you with grins and tapped your turquoise car, becoming excited when they saw you weren’t about to park anywhere. They knew you were racing tonight and as you arrived to the start line, people started cheering your name. You started laughing as you turned the engine off and got out of your car, grinning at the people surrounding you.

“There you are!” Yoona exclaimed as she leaned against the front of your car, arms crossed in front of her. You chuckled and approached her, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Did you think I’d miss tonight?”

“Nothing’s ever sure with you…” She was right and you rolled your eyes, having missed races not once because of your parents being home. They didn’t know what you did in your free time, but sometimes they’d forbid you from spending your Fridays out, even though you always said you were sleeping over at Yoona’s.

“Did you see Vernon?” You asked as you looked around, unable to see anyone familiar in the huge crowd around you. Butterflies in your stomach made you rub your tummy as you pouted and Yoona started laughing loudly.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous?” Her eyebrows raised and you decided not to look at her, “And no, I don’t even know if he’s here. Maybe he chickened out—”

A loud roar of an engine made Yoona’s words unable to be heard and you whipped your head around, eyes falling on a red Honda Civic Type R. The windows were tinted and you couldn’t see inside, but you knew it was Vernon, no one else was racing beside the two of you for the next twenty minutes. Yoona’s eyes widened just a bit as you both watched Vernon get out of the car and you were confused when two blondes ran up to him squealing.

“Oppa!” They chorused and your face distorted into disgust as Yoona burst out laughing, leaning back as her head was thrown back. You looked at her, expression still the same, and it made her laugh louder and harder. Your eyes fell on Johnny, who was smirking, as he started approaching you, his eyes falling on Vernon.

“Brought along your Barbie dolls, eh?” He tapped Yoona’s thigh as he walked past, headed for Vernon. The two blondes clung onto Vernon’s arms and you finally looked at him, taking in his attire. He wore ripped jeans and a form fitting navy green blouse, a leather jacket keeping him warm from the chilly air. A few chains hung around his neck and his dark hair was pushed back. You were surprised to see Vernon dressed like this; you didn’t think his style would be like that. You’ve only ever seen him in his uniform and some loose gym clothes. You gulped and Yoona nudged you, eyes squinted.

“Stop staring at him, you’re making it very obvious.” She muttered as she leaned down as if she was about to whisper something to you.

“What?” You asked confused as you turned your head, Vernon just shook hands with Johnny, and you then looked back at Yoona.

“That you like him.” Yoona’s words hit you like a truck and you couldn’t help the very loud scoff that left your lips. Is she crazy? I like Vernon? Where did she get that from?!

“Did you take something before you—”

Yoona threw you a warning glare and you didn’t finish your sentence as you knew better, but your attention was back on Johnny and Vernon, it looked like they’ve known each other for quite a while as they talked casually.

“Taking her out for a tour?” Johnny asked with a grin as he placed his hand on Vernon’s Honda. Vernon nodded and untangled himself from the two blondes, a smirk appearing on his lips. Your stomach did a somersault and you gasped quietly, confused as to what that feeling meant and why you only ever felt so flustered around Vernon. Yoona can’t be right…

“Nah, I’m here to claim my prize.” Vernon’s eyes fell on you and your back straightened as you quickly smoothed your expression into a neutral one. You knew your cheeks were still burning, but it was so chilly outside, one could blame it on that. You chuckled as Johnny looked at you too, seemingly having realized Vernon was racing you tonight.

“I don’t know man,” He said with an amused smirk, patting Vernon’s back forcefully, “I’ve never seen Y/N lose before in that car.”

You couldn’t help but notice the slight envy that slipped into Johnny’s tone and it made you smirk; you always knew he wanted your car. He was pretty pissed when you refused to let him drive it, you weren’t about to let a lunatic wreck your precious car. If something happened to it and you’d had to tell your parents it was Johnny’s fault, you were sure you’d never get to see the daylight ever again.

“You’re still in, right, Chwe?” You raised your eyebrows mockingly and Vernon scoffed, opening his door.

“Why don’t you sit inside your car so that we get over with this?” You chuckled and pushed off your car, Yoona following suit as Johnny walked up to the two of you, grabbing Yoona’s nape. You watched as he stared her in the eyes, eyes narrowing the slightest at her, and Yoona’s jaw clenched as she waited patiently for Johnny to stop. You hated when he did that, tried dominating Yoona or got possessive to the point of hurting her, so you ripped your car door open and pressed down on the honk harshly. Both of them jumped and Johnny looked at you with a glare.

“Move along, dickhead, I haven’t got all night.” You snapped at him and he chuckled, releasing Yoona, who looked thankful as she pushed Johnny slightly back and walked away while shooting you a finger heart.

“Don’t crash.” You rolled your eyes at Johnny’s words and got in as he walked to the side where Yoona stood, circling his arms around your best friend’s waist. Out of nowhere, Jun showed up, holding a checkered flag. You closed your door shut and put on your seatbelt, melting into your seat. Vernon’s engine roared to life and you were quick to do the same, Jun having come to a stop between the two cars.

“You know the drill,” Jun shouted over everyone’s voice, “You’ve got 400 meters, whichever finishes first wins and gets the money.”

Vernon reeled his engine and you just smirked; eyes fixed on the checkered flag as Jun raised it. You always concentrated, how you start, is the most important thing. You can’t lose seconds and you have to be faster than the other one, it gives you already a very small but significant advantage. You gripped the gearstick and the wheel with your other hand, ready to shift it into drive. You hated how your eyes had to take a glance at Vernon and it annoyed you even more when you realized his eyes were on you. What if Yoona is right and I do like him? I do feel flustered around him. Isn’t it just because he makes me angry? A few days ago, I was convinced I hated him with all my heart. What is it that I truly feel for him then? Jun’s hand with the flag dropped and you shifted the gearstick just in a second, your foot pressing down the gas pedal. You didn’t look anywhere else as your car came to an abrupt start, the safety belt cutting into the exposed skin of your collarbones and your eyebrows furrowed as your car picked up speed in just seconds. Everything became a blur around you, all you saw was the finish line that was still far away, but you were getting closer and closer. You didn’t know where Vernon was, but having not seen him pass you, you believed he was still behind somewhere. Your stiff body almost felt relaxed, despite the contraction of your muscles to keep the car going in a straight line at such high speed, and your mind was silent. You didn’t hear anything, the radio was always off when you raced because you wanted to hear the engine, and your labored breathing felt almost relaxing. You felt in control and free, a small smile slipped onto your lips when you noticed Seungkwan standing on the side with a big checkered flag, flapping it around above him. You were close, just a few more meters. Your engine cried loudly as you pushed the gas pedal for another boost of energy, your car crossing the finish line before Vernon’s could. You let go of the gas pedal and hit the brakes, your car coming to a stop slowly but surely. People flooded around your car and your head rested on the head rest as you closed your eyes, surprised by how fast your heart was beating. Adrenaline always flooded your veins, but never this much. You opened one eye and glanced to your left, but Vernon’s car was nowhere. It confused you as you turned the engine off, undoing your seatbelt. People were cheering for you, your name leaving their lips as they tapped your car in congratulations, and you gripped the door handle to open it. Just as you pushed it open, it was pushed back closed and your eyebrows furrowed, until Vernon’s face popped up. He motioned with his finger to roll down your window and you did, still looking at him confused.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice loud, as Vernon threw the cash back at you, making it land in your lap.

“I lost,” His tone was hard and he looked displeased, “but you knew I would, so take your money back.”

You rolled your eyes and gripped the cash, raising it up between your faces, “I gave it to you regardless of the outcome, our deal was about something else—”

“I’m not your charity case!” Vernon’s voice turned harsh and you raised your eyebrows at him, finding it weird how pissed he suddenly was, “I’ll meet you tomorrow at noon at the abandoned sandy tracks half an hour from here. Don’t come with the Veyron, it’s not a car for beginners.”

You opened your mouth to snap at him that you weren’t a beginner, but Vernon turned around and stormed away, pushing people out of his way. You turned your head to see where he was headed, and you found his car just a few meters away from the finish line, 100 meter between yours and his car. What a dick.

           The revving of the engine was a sign that you were doing something wrong and out of anger, you hit the brakes harshly, sending yourself and the person sitting in the passenger seat forward. Your heart was beating fast as you gripped the steering wheel with both hands, your skin melting into the material of the wheel. The seatbelt was cutting into your skin too and your jaw clenched when a chuckle came from your right. You knew Vernon was smirking in amusement, very pleased to see you fail once again. You thought you’d learn how to drift quickly and easily, but here you were, almost two hours later, barely being able to make one right turn. You didn’t know what it was that made it so hard, it couldn’t have been Vernon’s Honda, you’ve driven cars like his before thanks to Jihoon; you really didn’t understand what was the matter. I can’t believe I’ve been embarrassing myself for the past two hours. A sigh left your mouth and you glanced at Vernon, who’s right arm was perched on the windowsill and he had his smirk still on.

“You suck at teaching,” You had to say something to save yourself from further embarrassment, “That’s why I still can’t do it.”

It was so amusing to Vernon that he started laughing, his mouth widening and his teeth showed. Your heart only seemed to pick up its rhythm and your eyebrows furrowed as you harshly shifted the gear to start doing another round.

“Hey, hey—” Vernon was quick to notice your change of demeanor and your fingers tightened around the shift stick when he gripped your hand, “I think we had enough for today, Y/N…especially my car. I can’t have you burning down my brakes, sorry.”

“If you’d let me come with my Veyron you wouldn’t be here complaining—”

“And risk wrecking that car?” Vernon’s eyebrows shoot up and you looked at him, his hand was still on top of yours as if he forgot it there, “Hell, I bet your parents don’t even know you race…I for sure would bite my kid’s head off if I found out they raced with a car like yours—”

“Yeah,” You snapped, eyes blazing as you glared at Vernon, what does he know about me, “That’s why they don’t know. Let go of my hand now and tell me where to drive.”

Vernon gulped and if you weren’t so angry, you probably would have blushed at his reaction. He looked down at your hands as if he realized due to your words it was still on top of yours and he quickly placed it in his lap, clearing his throat as you looked away, “I’m quite hungry, let’s have lunch.”

“Just tell me where you live and I’ll call John to pick me up—”

“No!” Vernon’s voice rose a bit and you looked at him surprised as you were driving away from the abandoned race tracks, “I mean…come have lunch with us. My mom knows where we are and she’d be really pissed if I didn’t invite you for lunch…”

Your heart started beating fast again and you bit your lower lip, trying to ignore his words and the temptation to say yes, “I can’t stay.”

“Please—”

“No.” Vernon knew it was final and that he couldn’t try convincing you anymore, but he really wanted you to stay. He was amazed by you, truth be told. He didn’t know what was so attractive about you, because you might have been beautiful, but he never really cared much about looks. Something about the way you would always look at him, he felt some hidden feelings that you desperately tried to hide from him and yourself as well. He knew you had something with him personally, he didn’t understand why, but he hoped one day you’d have enough courage to tell him. It was the only reason why he never tried getting close to you, he was afraid honestly, that you’d reject him in a very unpleasant way and he wanted to save himself from the heartbreak. He didn’t even know you raced, he never heard of your name being gossiped at the races, however, he did hear something from Chan, who worked for Lee Jihoon. But you weren’t the only girl who’s name was Y/N, he couldn’t just assume so boldly. As you focused on the road, on driving back towards the main roads, you failed to notice Vernon’s intense gaze analyzing your every movement, expression. Your bruise had faded nicely, after icing it non-stop when you were home, but you could still faintly see it. So faintly, that one would have to be really close next to you to see it, or so you thought. Vernon clearly saw it and just as he opened his mouth to question what it was, you sighed.

“Yesterday…” You started quietly, your muscles having eased now that you were just driving around casually and Vernon wasn’t touching you, “I feel like I insulted you…”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched you, pointing towards a street, to which you turned, “Insulted me?”

“With the money…I didn’t want to make it seem like I was—”

But Vernon didn’t want to hear it, because quite frankly, he wasn’t insulted at all last night. He was pissed, because you won. And that was only because he really wanted to go on that date with you. However, now that you’ve been alone in his car for almost two hours, he didn’t seem to mind it that much, “I wasn’t insulted, Y/N. I know you are rich and that I have less than you, but it didn’t mean anything to me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and once again followed Vernon’s instructions, which lead to a quiet side of the city, “Why were you so angry then?”

“I was frustrated, not necessarily angry.” Your lips pulled up into a smile and you glanced at Vernon.

“I probably should have warned you I drive a Veyron—”

“I heard Jihoon sold your engine.”

“It wasn’t mine. He bought it and wanted me to show it off so that he could sell it for more.”

“Smart.”

“I know.” You found yourself glancing at Vernon with a smile, which he returned, as he pointed towards a house at the end of the street. It was a dead end, and theirs was the last house. It looked normal size, white, and had a nice front lawn. You didn’t think Vernon was poor, but the quality of the house surprised you. It had a refreshing look and definitely looked cozy just from the outside. You parked the car in the driveway, like Vernon instructed, and turned the engine off. You both undid your seatbelts and got out of the car; your eyes glanced towards the house. The window on the second floor was opened and loud music was blasting through it. A smile had pulled onto your lips without realizing and Vernon cleared his throat to get your attention.

“That’s my sister…she’s a bit loud sometimes.” You nodded as your eyes fell on Vernon, who’s hands were in the pockets of his baggy jeans, it weirdly looked good on him. Vernon’s style surprised you. It looked really cool and was actually very fitting for him, now you realized. It would be weird seeing him now in his uniform, knowing his preference in clothes.

“I’ll call John—" But just as you grabbed your phone from your jacket, the front door opened and a middle-aged lady walked out, hands on her waist.

“Look at you two!” She exclaimed in English and your lips instantly pulled into a smile, her accent sounding an awful lot like Vernon’s, “I thought you’d never come home. Come on!”

Vernon grinned at his mother and took off, but you remained put, “Uh, ma’am I’ll be calling my father’s driver to pick me up.”

“Non-sense!” Vernon’s mother’s eyebrows furrowed as she stepped down a few steps, “Hurry up inside, I just finished the soup.”

“Ma’am, I really can’t stay for lunch—”

“Vernon, go get her!” And before you could disagree more, his mother walked inside, leaving the door open for you. Your eyes fell on Vernon and you shook your head, about to dial John’s number. I really don’t want to be here right now. My father is already pissed enough at me, I shouldn’t miss lunch today…especially since we are meeting with his business partners.

“If you don’t have lunch with us, mom won’t let me help you tomorrow or next week.” Your eyebrows furrowed at Vernon’s words and you looked down at your cellphone, hesitant to put it away. Would it really be so bad if I stayed? It’s just one lunch. Besides, I most definitely don’t want to meet Mr. Kim’s son, he’s too rude for my liking. You rolled your eyes and put your phone on ‘do not disturb’, putting it back inside your jacket’s pocket as you followed Vernon inside the house.

The house on the inside was exactly how you imagined it to be. Walls white with big windows to let the natural light inside and everywhere you looked, you saw family pictures. It seemed like Vernon’s mother really liked flowers too as you could find them in every corner of the house. There was a scent of homecooked meal and it smelled so much better than the one coming from your maids at home. It was a lot warmer inside than outside, so you decided to get rid of your jacket too after you left your shoes in the doorway. You’d usually wear flip flops at home, but when Vernon gave you none and instructed to just go straight ahead while he went upstairs, you didn’t say anything about it. You watched Vernon hurry up the stairs as you walked down the hallway, humming coming from where Vernon instructed you to head towards.

“Oh, good!” It was his mom, once you stepped inside the kitchen, the scent of homecooked food was stronger. The kitchen wasn’t very big, just enough for a few people to be inside, but when you looked to your left you noticed there was a dining room, the young boy from school was there actually. He was sitting on a chair, one foot up on the chair next to him as he watched something on his phone, picking his nose in the process. It was a sight you weren’t expecting, such a normal sight you never got to see at home, that it made you laugh. You actually started laughing so hard it alerted the young boy, who’s cheeks became pink and he shoot you a glare.

“Chan,” Vernon’s mom sighed as she glanced back to see what was so funny, “He was picking his nose again, wasn’t he?”

You only nodded as you tried to stop laughing, the boy actually got up and walked towards you with a small glare. You weren’t aware that Vernon had a brother, besides, this Chan boy looked nothing like Vernon or his mother.

“I’m Y/L/N Y/N by the way,” You spoke up as Chan stopped beside you, squaring you up with his eyes, as you watched Vernon’s mother.

“Yes, Vernon told me who he was going with. Wasn’t expecting a girl to want to learn how to drift.” Chan scoffed next to you as he offered you his hand once he was done taking your form in.

“Lee Chan.” You shook his hand and narrowed your eyes at him, “And Mrs. Chwe, I told you women like to race. Sometimes there’s more of them at the race tracks than men.”

“He’s not wrong.” You approved of his words, looking back at him, “You’re not related to the Lee family, right?”

“Do I look like I am?” Chan had a sharp tongue and you scoffed, watching him brush past you, “Let me put the plates, Mrs. Chwe.”

“You should be studying, Chan, dear.” Chan just rolled his eyes as he opened a drawer and pointed at the cutlery and motioned for you to take them. You grimaced at him but proceeded to help him out, it was better than standing awkwardly in the kitchen and doing nothing.

“Studying is a luxury that I can’t benefit of.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you walked alongside Chan to the dining room, setting the plates and cutlery on the long table.

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, noticing one plate missing.

“I don’t have enough money to go to school, Y/N.” Chan answered with an impassive voice, but you couldn’t help and notice the yearning behind his words.

“How old are you?” You found yourself asking again, something tugging at your heartstrings. Am I feeling bad for him? He deserves to have part of education like everyone else. He seems like a quick-witted boy.

“Sixteen.” Chan muttered and brushed past you as he headed for the door of the kitchen. You looked at Mrs. Chwe as she brought the pot of soup to the table, still steaming as it had been recently finished. She had a sad expression as she heard your little exchange with Chan and it suddenly all made sense. He’s here because they are taking care of him. I don’t know his home situation, but if Mrs. Chwe took him in, it must mean that he wasn’t living well before at all.

“Vernon! Sofia!” You jumped at Chan’s shrill voice and Mrs. Chwe chuckled, taking a seat at the head of the table.

“Sit wherever you want,” She offered you a smile and you chose to sit on her left, the cushion was soft underneath your bum, “Can’t believe my son just left you to yourself, where are his manners.”

“It’s alright, Mrs. Chwe.” You reassured her, sitting patiently as Chan chose to sit across from you. You internally cursed and hoped that Sofia would take the seat next to you, but you didn’t have that much luck. As the girl came into view, she raced Vernon and jumped into the seat next to Chan, leaving Vernon with a glare directed at her. You looked at Vernon and tried to keep a neutral expression, knowing all eyes were basically on the two of you. His black hair was dripping still and he had changed from the clothes he was wearing earlier today. He wore black sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt, which made your heart beat faster. You never noticed that Vernon had muscles before and you were praying to all Gods that you wouldn’t blush upon seeing the way his t-shirt sat tightly against his chest.

“Finally,” His mother said with a sour expression and Vernon chuckled awkwardly, taking his seat next to you. You tensed up when Vernon’s knee knocked into yours underneath the table and Chan just randomly chuckled, making everyone look at him.

“Nothing, sorry!” He quickly dismissed it and greedily grabbed for the ladle to pour soup into his bowl. Vernon kept his eyes on Chan and the younger boy tried to mask his chuckle with a scoff. It was weird but you said nothing as this seemed to be normal for the other people sitting at the table.

“I’m Sofia!” Your eyes fell on the girl sitting next to Chan and you offered her a genuine smile.

“I’m Y/N.” She grinned back at you and stole the ladle from Chan, elbowing him when he filled his bowl to the brim.

“I love this soup, stop it!” He exclaimed loudly and scooted his chair away from the girl, throwing daggers at her.

“You won’t leave anything for us!” Sofia fired back and you sat quietly, your body once again relaxed. Vernon’s hands on the table kept clenching and unclenching and you stole a glance at him, he was watching his sister and friend’s banter with a glare.

“Stop it, kids,” Mrs. Chwe intervened and took the ladle from Sofia once she was done, “You always serve the guest first.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry!” You quickly dismissed her words, offering her your bowl when she raised her hand, “You don’t have to change your habits just because I’m here.”

Vernon’s mother smiled as she handed you back the bowl, “You seem to be the most well behaved here, my dear.”

Your cheeks became hot and before you could dismiss her words, Chan erupted into giggles, “Of course, Mrs. Chwe! Can’t you smell the richness? I could, even from miles away—” Before Chan could finish his sentence, he cried out and jumped a bit, glaring at Vernon, who was glaring at him back. You looked at Vernon and saw how his jaw was clenched and his mother sighed, taking her son’s bowl to pour some soup for him too.

“Rich or poor, Chan, in this house it doesn’t matter, yes?” Her voice was scolding and Chan grew smaller in his seat, as if he realized he wasn’t at his real home here and apologized quietly. Once you started eating your soup, you remained quiet and listened to the casual conversations from around. It wasn’t because you had nothing to say, it’s just that habits are hard to change, and at your house no one spoke while you ate…well, sometimes your mother would, until your father would reprimand her for it. You smiled softly when Sofia talked about her recent trip with her friends to a resort not far from the city and felt a bit bad when Chan confessed that he wouldn’t be going home this month either. You didn’t know his story, but it was obvious how much it bothered him that he couldn’t be there. Vernon answered his mom when he was asked something, but otherwise remained silent like you, stealing glances that you obviously noticed but ignored in order to stop yourself from blushing.

“Did Vernon manage to teach you something today, Y/N?” Mrs. Chwe asked you just as you finished eating and your eyebrows furrowed.

“He tried to…” You muttered and subconsciously threw a glare at Vernon, “But I didn’t do much.”

“You aren’t bad though.” You scoffed and whipped your head towards Vernon, for a second forgetting that it wasn’t just the two of you there.

“Saying that now to seem nice, huh? Who are you trying to impress?” Everyone remained silent at your snappy tone and you grew embarrassed, realizing you were acting out again. It was just getting to you. The atmosphere at the table, how nice everyone was to everyone, how Mrs. Chwe seemed to know her kids and didn’t even have to ask them because she already knew what bothered them. Even Chan was treated well and Mrs. Chwe was babying him, offering him more soup once he was done even though he probably couldn’t eat more. It was obvious that everyone was cared of and loved. Hearing Mrs. Chwe calling you ‘my dear’ wasn’t helping with the void you felt in your chest. It was making your stomach ache when you thought of going home after this, after the picture of a loving family was now forever imprinted into your mind. How were you not supposed to hate Vernon now? He isn’t just perfect at school; his whole life seems to be perfect. Everyone loves him and Chan even looks up at him, Sofia seems to love to tease him and no one seems to be always pressuring him. How am I supposed to look at him without envy?

“I’m sorry, that was rude.” You apologized quickly, realizing you’ve stayed quiet for too long.

“Don’t worry, my son isn’t perfect.” Mrs. Chwe’s words were so contradicting towards your thoughts about him, “Whatever misunderstanding you have going on, I understand. Just solve it quickly so that you don’t stay with a grudge.”

“A misunderstanding even I don’t understand.” Vernon mumbled underneath his breath and you looked at him, eyes widening just a little bit. Now you felt worse and you sighed, pushing your hair behind your back.

“Oh, dear!” Everyone looked at Mrs. Chwe surprised, she was looking at you with her eyebrows furrowed, “What happened to your face?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you touched your face with both hands, looking at Vernon out of reflex since you knew him best from the table, to see if he could see something wrong. His eyes looked into yours for a second before they fell on your cheek. Your heart seemed to come to a stop before it sped up dangerously and you just cleared your throat.

“I’m clumsy sometimes,” It was a script you memorized a long time ago, “I have a cabinet in my bathroom that’s around my height and sometimes when I wake up, I’m dizzy and happen to run into it. That’s what happened.”

Everyone but Vernon seemed to buy it, Sofia even laughed, “You should be more carefully, why did you even put the cabinet there?”

“I wasn’t the designer of the apartment.” You joked with her, throwing Vernon a confused glance as his right leg was moving up and down fast, like when you were anxious. Chan and Sofia giggled as Mrs. Chwe stood to gather the bowls.

“Put some ice on it, it’ll go away.” Her voice was soothing and you felt like her, too, knew your story was a lie; but you decided to ignore it and thank her for lunch once again.

“When is Mr. Chwe coming home?” Chan asked as he stood to help Mrs. Chwe take the bowls to the sink. He saved your curiosity and you were happy that he asked before you could.

“I don’t know,” Vernon answered with a shrug, leaning back in his chair, “He took some extra shifts.”

“Yes, because you just had to buy that expensive car to race with.” Mrs. Chwe snapped from the kitchen and you looked at Vernon.

“I’ve been earning more money ever since, mom. You can’t say I’m not trying to help you.” Vernon got defensive, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Your eyes fell on the contracting muscles and you gulped, reaching for your glass to drink some water. Sofia smirked but looked at her phone when she saw you throwing her a questioning glance.

“As if we weren’t in debt before.” The woman sighed to herself, but everyone heard it, and the cash that Vernon threw back at you yesterday felt heavy in your back-pocket. He wasn’t a charity case, he said it himself, but why not give it to him when you seriously didn’t need it? You looked at Vernon and his eyebrows were furrowed as he sighed quietly.

“Thank you for having me for lunch, but I really have to go home now.” You spoke up and stood up, Vernon following your actions. Sofia shot you a pout but she waved as you walked to the kitchen, Vernon behind you.

“You should come more often.” Mrs. Chwe gave you a pat on the head and you bowed your head, waving at Chan, but as you went to step outside of the kitchen, you stopped. Vernon walked into you and your skin tingled as he grabbed onto your arms, steadying himself. You wanted to curse but focused on what you were about to say as you glanced back, having to look over Vernon’s shoulder. He was taller than you.

“Chan, ask Vernon to give you my phone number and whenever you have free time, call me if you feel like studying a little.” Chan’s mouth fell open and you winked at him, taking off again.

“For free?” Chan shouted after you and you chuckled, weirdly not bothered that Vernon was still holding onto you.

“For free!” You called back and Chan started loudly cheering, making Vernon sigh, “You should do the same, Vernon, the poor kid makes it obvious that he’d like to study.”

“You think I didn’t try doing that?” Vernon scoffed and finally released you as you went to pull on your shoes, “He’s stubborn and refuses to listen to me.”

“I guess my beauty is enough to give him motivation then.” You said cutely and Vernon could have sworn his heart stopped beating. You didn’t notice his sudden freeze up as you grabbed your jacket and phone from your pocket.

“Your beauty…” He muttered to himself as you sent a message to John to pick you up, his answer was immediate.

“So…” You looked back at Vernon, sneakily taking the roll of cash from your back-pocket, “We are meeting tomorrow too?”

“That’s the plan, right?” He asked, his voice sounding a bit chocked up and you ignored it as you nodded. Your eyes fell on the table behind him and your heart picked up when you realized what you’d have to do. You wouldn’t have done it, not in a million years, if it wasn’t your only chance to leave the money at him. Your heart started beating fast and Vernon frowned when he saw you closing the gap between you two. You grimaced to yourself as you let your left arm circle his torso, hugging him briefly. Your right arm extended and just as you managed to drop the cash onto the table, Vernon pulled you into himself. You gasped quietly and noticed how refreshing his scent was and the back of his t-shirt was still wet from his dripping hair that seemed only damp now. The hug didn’t last for long but when you pulled back, both of your cheeks were warm and you couldn’t look at Vernon.

“Uhm, see you tomorrow!” Not wanting to hear his voice and feel more flustered, you quickly opened the door and ran down his driveway, refusing to turn back around to watch him close the door. You could still feel his arms around you and how soft his clothes were despite his body being so firm. I think Yoona is right, I might like Vernon.

           You couldn’t help the satisfied cry that left your lips as you took your forth successful turn, drifting just like Vernon taught you. You still couldn’t do it each time you tried, but this was the best you’ve done since you’ve been here so far. Vernon was proud as he gripped onto the board of the car, lips in a wide grin. He wasn’t bothered by how sharp your turns were, throwing him around in his seat even though he was buckled up, he was happy that you were happy. He’s never seen you with such wide smile before, and he was mesmerized. He never thought you could become more beautiful than you already were. Your heart was beating fast again as you decided this was satisfying enough to take a break, Vernon’s been complaining for half an hour now. You slowed the car down and stopped the engine when it finally came to a stop. You let out a breath and relaxed in the driver’s seat, feeling accomplished. You could finally do it; you were sure you needed more practice but you actually did it this time.

“That was pretty cool, Y/N.” You forgot you were with Vernon in the car and you became embarrassed as you looked at him, “Am I still a bad teacher?”

“It took me five hours in total to catch the hang of it, I wouldn’t tell anyone you’re very bright at teaching.” It made Vernon chuckle and you realized what he acted like in school was his real personality, he wasn’t faking anything like some people were. It felt nice to be around someone authentic and you found yourself staring at him. His black hair seemed to have wax on as it was twirled in locks and paired with the red sunglasses he wore it made him look very attractive. He had on some black ripped jeans and underneath his neon green oversized jumper he wore a white t-shirt, you could see the collar of it. When Vernon locked eyes with you, you quickly looked away and picked at the ends of your turtleneck; your knee-length skirt had ridden up a bit and was around your thighs, you’d have to pull it lower soon.

“I gave Chan your phone number,” You looked back at Vernon surprised, you didn’t expect Chan to actually accept your offer, “He said he’ll give you a call next week.”

“That’s fine,” You hummed and brushed your long hair behind your back, “The less time I spend at home, the better.”

You wished you didn’t say that, because it seemed like Vernon just remembered something and his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes searched your face. You did not forget to put on foundation today, so he couldn’t see anything wrong with your skin, but suddenly the area felt on fire. You hoped Vernon wouldn’t bring it up now that he couldn’t see it, but you were wrong.

“Why hide the bruise if I have already seen it?”

“I thought it wasn’t visible anymore, good you told me.”

“Wouldn’t want more people getting suspicious?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Vernon rolled his eyes, looking a little irritated.

“What happened?” You shrugged and sighed, trying to remain neutral.

“I told you yesterday, Vernon—”

“But it’s not the truth.” You rolled your eyes but Vernon’s burning gaze made you want to tell him everything. You didn’t know anymore which feeling was stronger: hatred or liking. But you wanted to tell someone and Vernon was willing to listen, maybe you felt like this because you knew Vernon wouldn’t directly go to the police like Yoona would.

“Everyone at school is jealous of me for being rich, for having everything I want and need. But I don’t have everything, Vernon. My parents don’t love, at least my father doesn’t, my mother barely spends time with me nowadays and the bruise—" You hated thinking of how you got certain bruises, your chest ached. You blocked the memories away and you didn’t think it would be this hard to say it. You were scared of how Vernon would react and what he’d think, would he see you differently? Vernon grabbed your hand and you became stiff, wanting to pull your hand away but keep it there at the same time. It was oddly offering you comfort.

“The truth is that—my father—he—hits me.” You muttered quietly and looked down at your hands, unable to look at Vernon. You didn’t want him to see the tears in your eyes, you hated being vulnerable in front of others. And now you were confused about what you actually felt for Vernon, it wasn’t helping. Vernon’s silence was making you uncomfortable and you glanced up at him, his jaw was clenched. He seemed fine, but his jaw gave him away. You knew he was angry and you sighed, pulling your hand away from his.

“Go to the police, tell on him.”

“No, I can’t do that. He’s still my father.”

“Do you even hear yourself?!” Vernon’s sudden raise of voice made you jump as you looked back at him surprised, “This isn’t a little disciplinary spank a parent does from time to time, Y/N. He’s abusing you!”

You didn’t need someone to tell you, you were well aware of that. You threw Vernon a glare and crossed your arms in front of your chest, “Thanks for stating the obvious—”

“No, don’t do that!” He snapped, undoing his seatbelt in his anger, to be able to turn towards you better, “This isn’t something that can be treated lightly, Y/N! You need to tell someone; he has to stop. He has no rights laying his hands on you, do you understand me?”

“Do you understand that I know but I won’t do anything?” You raised your voice as well, your glare becoming harsh, “If I want my life to be ruined forever, sure, I’ll go tell the authorities.”

“He can’t ruin your life for something he did knowingly that it’s wrong—” His words became white noise as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself. Vernon was the last person you needed lecturing from, especially since you were getting this treatment because he was better than you at one fucking subject. Your anger went through the roof and you snaped, unable to take his words.

“Shut up, it’s all because of you!” Vernon’s eyes went wide and he looked so confused, you felt bad for telling him that, “You’re better at English than I am, my father can’t stand that. I have to be best at everything. It’s why I could never stand you, unknowingly you made me hurt. And it’s a shit reason, I know, but it’s true…”

Vernon looked speechless until he started looking regretful and he grabbed your hand again, despite your glare, “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” You scoffed, throwing him a look, “It’s not your fault. Don’t worry, I only have to put up with his shit for three more months. I’ll be moving out.”

“Does he know?” Vernon’s eyebrows rose and you scoffed again.

“Of course not. Why would I tell him? He keeps threatening me so I don’t see why I shouldn’t make his threats reality before he gets to proceed with them.” Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Come move in with us.” You weren’t expecting that at all and your eyes grew wide as you stared at Vernon. Move in with him and his family? That sounded weird, you could manage on your own too. It wasn’t that hard, right?

“I can’t, that house is already packed with you four and Chan spending his time there too.”

“Sofia would love to have another girl around the house, please?”

“Vernon, this isn’t something you get to decide. That house is your parents’ and I can’t show up unannounced, okay?” Your eyebrows rose at him and he sighed, knowing what you were saying was right.

“Fine, but think about it…” You nodded once and he took his hand off from yours, you uncrossed your arms, “Do you really hate me?”

You thought for a second as you watched him, not knowing how to answer him, because you didn’t know how you felt for him. You didn’t actually hate him, but you did envy him.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you…” You muttered and Vernon sighed, leaning back in the seat, “But I don’t think I hate you. I thought you sucked, but maybe you aren’t that bad.”

It made Vernon chuckle and when he looked over at you, your heart started beating quickly again and you blushed. If you constantly kept reacting like that it meant that you actually felt something more for him, right? Yoona must have been right, she never joked around with things like this one, and you bit your lower lip as the two of you watched each other quietly. You were always bold with others and merciless, not really caring if they got hurt by your words or not. You felt like you gave Vernon the wrong idea and now he might have been convinced that you hated him, which wasn’t true at all. You thought maybe you should be bold for once with your actions too and you cleared your throat, which made Vernon glance at you. He wasn’t making it easier but maybe if he saw you leaning in, he wouldn’t pull away in surprise. So, you leaned over the middle console and with your eyes on his lips, you tried closing the gap but Vernon was too far away. It would have been embarrassing if Vernon had not leaned in as well, pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t as bad as you thought your first kiss would be, his lips were soft and you found that cute. It didn’t last for long either because Vernon seemed to be flustered as he stiffly pulled his head back, looking into your eyes.

“You might not be my favorite person in the world, but I think I like you.” You found yourself saying and Vernon chuckled, scratching the back of his nape as his ears and neck were red.

“Go on a date with me? Even if I lost the bet….” Vernon asked with a cheeky grin, looking just as flustered as moments ago and it made you chuckle.

“I made that bet because I knew you would lose, but sure.” It was time things took a better turn in your life and maybe Vernon was the starting point.

[deardragonbook]

Those really weird dream sequences and when are they good?

I used to think that almost all dream sequences in books were bad. I don’t recall what books I was reading at the time but I specifically recall them being just a bunch of nonsense. 

Until one day, I read one that didn’t only entice me, but I read it three times in a row. Why the desperation? Because it was telling me something. Although what it was telling me wasn’t essential, just foreshadowing and food for theories, I just wanted to know. No. I needed to know. 

So, bad dream sequences are the ones that don’t serve a purpose. It’s just a bunch of shocking imagery for the sake of it, because you need some excitement but the next action scene is too far away. 

Or because you have a cool image in your head and you think despite it’s lack of relation to the story it will entice your reader regardless. Perhaps you like other people’s dream sequences and don’t know what you like about them. 

For me, a good dream sequence tells you something, perhaps gives you some important details about a characters past, perhaps some insight on their emotional state, it tells us about what they’re worried about, it’s tell us what they’re scared of. 

I think the most important thing is to know what you’re trying to express before writing the sequence. Choose the essential details and then mix in some less-esential but in no way irrelevant ones. 

Let’s use an example from my writing, spoilers ahead for Act 1 of Oppida Institute for Reformation (obviously, slight spoilers, it’s available for free in the link at the bottom of the post if you’d like to read it and then come back!): 

Slumber came fast, but it was not pleasant. She found herself in the Institute, her arm was hurting, why was her arm hurting? She looked down at it to see it was bleeding. Why was it bleeding? She turned her arm over, but couldn't find where the blood came from. She hummed and began to walk towards the exit.

She knew this building. She hated it. But she knew it. She reached the familiar door, pushed. Nothing, it wouldn't budge. She hummed again and wondered off to find a window. But there were none.

She was tired. So she headed upstairs, towards her room, she needed somewhere to sleep. The building had been empty up until now, but when she entered the hallway with the rooms it was full. There was a child at every door.

They were younger than Elizabeth. She didn't know who any of them were, they didn't have names, but she somehow knew they were from the Institute.

They looked at her. Or past her? No. Definitely at her.

"Hello?" she couldn't hear her own voice, but they reacted to it by tilting their heads.

She didn't know who they were, until it dawned on her, they were the children who she hadn't got to in time. She looked at them closer. They all had cuffs on their wrists. The cuffs she'd worn when thrown into the carriage.

She looked down at the ground, it wasn't stone anymore but wood. She looked back up, the walls were wood, the doors to the rooms were now all like the exit to the carriage. The ground began to move and she lost her balance falling to the ground.

She heard banging, it was the sound of her banging on the exit of the carriage.

She gasped for breath. Before waking up in a cold sweat in her bed at the orphanage. She was crying. She was crying loudly.

Thankfully her room mate was missing, nobody noticed.

Okay, so what was the goal with this scene? Context for those who haven’t read the story: Act 1 consists of Elizabeth infiltrating what is believed to be an abusive institution to find evidence. She finds this evidence but is promptly found out and nearly “shipped off” in a wooden carriage fighting for survival. 

She is rescued before anything truly bad can happen to her. However, she’s shown to be quite stressed and her attitude towards the adults in charge further hint that the events are having a larger impact than she wants them to know about. However, this is the moment where all readers should realize how deep the trauma runs. 

Prior to writing the sequence, I knew I needed to show the Institute, the carriage and the children. The Institute being the origin of the trauma, the carriage being the overflow and the children being her largest regret. The children who came before her, who she didn’t arrive in time to save. 

Okay, so three things to work with. What about the other details? Where do they come from? Let’s take a look by listing them: 

-Pain/bleeding in her arm: this a quick early hint at what’s to come for those who read the chapters in order. In the carriage she banged her shoulder and in extension her arm against the wooden door. Although not stated because of the adrenaline and the lack of relative importance, this is something painful and damaging. This is also foreshadowing to the next chapter where she is taken down with an odd amount of ease, partly due to exhaustion from this nightmare, but also partly due to invisible injuries needing recovery. 

-Locked door and no windows: obviously representing the feeling of being trapped that she had while living there. 

-Being tired and heading to her old room: it shows how despite being back home, she still holds that instinct from the time she was there. 

-The building being empty except for children: after she found evidence obviously the building was emptied, employees were arrested, children returned to safe homes. But in Elizabeth’s mind, it’ll never be fully empty, for it still holds those children who weren’t allowed to ever go home. 

-The children standing at the doors: this is a throwback to this exact thing happening at the Institute. 

-The children being younger than Elizabeth: This one is interesting because in the actual story, it’s mentioned that Elizabeth’s the same age as most of the attendants. Why make them younger here? Because Elizabeth perceives them as such. She’s an apprentice, a guard to be, responsible, mature. They’re children that need protecting. It’s her job to protect them. Just like an older kid to a younger child. 

(Plus children are always spookier). 

-Not being sure about where they are looking: Who’s to blame for them not making it? They look past her, at the real culprits, but ultimately Elizabeth still blames herself so they’re eyes return to her. 

-Not being able to hear her own voice: This is just something that happens (to me) often in dreams. And that’s another thing you can incorporate into dream sequences, actual realistic things from dreams, it can help sell and seal the scene. It also adds to the spooky factor and makes the wooden noise coming up later stronger and more impactful. 

-The sudden recognition: Another thing stolen from my actual dreams. I often am confused as to who people are until my brain fills me in on the story it’s trying to tell. 

Obviously I don’t expect anybody to pick up on all of these details, especially not to this extent. I expect some are obvious, while some are near impossible. I expect there are details I did not add on purpose but people will over read, or read differently. But the point is, there are details, there are layers. There’s nothing wrong with readers giving stuff their own twist!

Plus, nothing is added in just for the visual affects or to sound spooky. There is thought behind these random details. 

Another thing to note about this scene is the point of view and the pacing. Usually I’m a lot more to the point with my writing, asking questions and giving a lot of opinion create a slower pace I’m not always a fan off. But this is a different plane, mixing up the pacing and showing a lot more of Elizabeth’s feelings helps separate it from the real world. 

It helps set the tone and more importantly, it allows for more impact in the final scene. 

The final scene, the climax of the dream sequence, the whole place turning to wood, the noise and the feeling of the ground moving. It’s an example of a scene that uses the senses, only missing smell here. But we don’t usually experience things so vividly in dreams, right? Well, that’s why she wakes up. That’s why it’s the climax. 

I think it also helps to think of every dream sequence as it’s own little story, with it’s introduction, midpoint and climax. You can also consider them as little chapters if you’re going to have several, but be careful with overusing dream sequences! Especially if you do like I do and mix up the pace, if a reader enjoys your writing style, having that style change often may be frustrating. 

Anyways, I hope this made sense. I don’t know if using an example from a story few of you will have read is a good idea because a lot of the details won’t make sense on their own, but it’s something I had easy access to and actually knew everything about. 

Did it work for you? Would you rather I try to make something up next time? Feel free to tell me, I aim to imrpove, as we all do. 

As usual,  check out my socials and book here. Also, my Wattpad is in there, so if you enjoyed this small extract from Opida’s Institute for Reformation, you can read twenty three chapters of it for free! Plus a new chapter every Tuesday. 

What’s your favorite dream sequence from a book you’ve read? 

[iboughtaplant]

I tried to write angst! Here is a short Geraskier fic I wrote based on the Regina Spektor song Samson. 

A Pair of Dull Scissors in the Yellow Light 

Rating: T

Warnings: no archive warnings 

Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier 

Tags: Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Blood, Head Injury, Haircuts, Sort Of, Songfic, Song: Samson (Regina Spektor), a lot about Geralt's hair, I love Geralt's long hair so idk why I wrote a fic about his hair being chopped off

Read it on AO3

Geralt’s hair had always been long the whole time Jaskier knew him. Granted, Jaskier hadn’t known Geralt for very long compared to how old the witcher was.

When he first saw him, Jaskier was drawn to the quiet witcher seated in the corner. His long silver-white hair framing his handsome face. He was then of course drawn to the medallion and swords that marked him as a witcher. Not just excited to talk to a pretty face, but to hear the stories he could tell.

They might not have got off to the best start, but Jaskier...he loved Geralt. It might have been a bit of hero worship at first, this brave, strong witcher with a heart of gold. Branded as a mutant, a butcher, the stuff of nightmares in stories told to small children. But Jaskier loved him first. He loved Geralt above all else. His lute might be a close second, but that didn’t detract from the fact that he loved Geralt first.

It also meant he was already head over heels in love with Geralt when Geralt finally confessed that the love was mutual a few years into their friendship.

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

Soon after Geralt confessed his feelings, Jaskier also learned about how Geralt’s long hair was linked to his witcher abilities. He already knew that its silver-white color was due to Geralt’s mutagens, but he hadn’t known there was more to it.

They were in Oxenfurt and Jaskier’s hair was getting too long for his liking, so it was the perfect excuse to spend some of the coin he earned playing in a tavern the night before on a proper haircut from a barber.

“Geralt, you should come with me. I am sure I have enough coin to pay for you to get your hair trimmed.”

“It’s fine, Jaskier. It doesn’t need to be cut.”

“Well maybe it doesn’t need it, but a haircut can be nice and relaxing. I know you love when I wash your hair for you, and they will do that at the barber’s as well.”

“No, Jaskier, it doesn’t need to be cut because it is always the same length.”

“But doesn’t your hair grow? Is it magic that keeps it from growing out of control?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt answered with a “hmm.” He took a long pause before saying more. “It must be tied to the spells the mages used, however they might have changed the mutagens. I don’t know. I don’t cut my hair. And it doesn’t grow past a certain length.”

Geralt then told Jaskier that due to some odd reaction between his body, the extra mutagens, and the magic of the mages his hair was cursed to be tied to the abilities and heightened senses the mutagens afforded him.

Jaskier had thought that Geralt’s long hair had been his one vanity. But of course it was yet another thing out of his control. But it made him curious if Geralt was the only witcher whose hair was tied to his powers.

“I’ve never heard of another witcher with white hair like yours,” Jaskier said. He didn’t want to ask a more pointed question.

“Because I’m the only,” Geralt said, voice thick with emotion. “The only one to receive a second dose of mutagens. Well the only one to survive it at least. The mages experimented on others before me, but I was the only one to survive the ordeal.”

“That’s awful, my love. I’m sorry you had to endure that.” He paused. “And I know it won’t make you feel better about it, but it is quite dashing, if I do say so.” Jaskier said, edging closer to Geralt and running his nimble fingers through the soft strands.

“How about I forgo the haircut and we can spend our coin on that nice soap you pretend you don’t like. I’ll wash your hair for you. And then we can braid it. A bit of a change even if you can’t cut it.”

“I’d like that,” Geralt said in a soft voice.

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

The yellow-orange light of the campfire made everything glow. The atmosphere felt far more comfortable than the current situation. But Jaskier was thankful for the light it granted. Jaskier scrambled to dig his scissors out of his pack and make his way back to Geralt, unconscious on the ground, only his thin bedroll under him.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Jaskier whispered through his tears to Geralt’s unconscious form as he took the scissors—considerably duller than he would have liked, he had forgotten to ask Geralt to sharpen them for him recently—and began to cut away Geralt’s silver locks that were stained red by blood and gore matted in them.

Unfortunately, most, if not all, of the blood belonged to Geralt, the gore belonging to the beast he killed, but not before it almost killed him.

Jaskier’s hands were shaking, he had to grip the scissors with both hands, one hand supporting the other. He had to cut Geralt’s hair. He had to. They were in the middle of a forest, in the middle of nowhere. No towns were close enough to travel to with an injured witcher. Not to mention the fact that Geralt had already been running low on potions. They were going to restock on potion ingredients in the next town they visited. But again said town was too far to travel when Geralt was severely injured and Jaskier was only human, and would not make it there and back with help in time.

The gash on the back of his skull was nasty. Jaskier knew that head wounds bled profusely regardless of their severity, but this one was quite bad and even a witcher could die from bleeding out.

He kept whispering apologies to an unconscious Geralt as he cut away, piece by piece, the tangled, matted hair and clumps of monster gore to better see the wound. The bleeding had hardly slowed, and Geralt had also lost blood from a thin slice down his side. At least the bleeding of that wound had slowed and Jaskier had been able to crumple up one of their shirts to put pressure on it and wrap a bandage around it.

The head wound was much more worrying. Once Geralt’s hair was mostly cut away, Jaskier was able to clean the wound with the water from his water skin, some alcohol from a flask as an antiseptic.

It was a rough job, but at least the wound was cleaned and the bleeding finally slowed. From his kneeling position, Jaskier finally sank down onto his heels. He could feel the sticky tear tracks down his cheeks. He ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He felt the tackiness of the blood still on his hands.

Geralt’s hair had been covered in blood, only fitting that his was now. Geralt’s blood. It was Geralt’s blood on his hands and he hated it.

Once the adrenaline started to wear off, Jaskier realized his hands were shaking again. Or maybe they had been shaking the whole time. It was still an odd sensation as his hands were always steady. Geralt pointed it out many a time when he had to guide Jaskier through stitching him up over the years.

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

Once Jaskier was done stitching and bandaging, all he could do was wait. Sit and wait for Geralt to wake up. He felt anxious and tired at the same time. Excess energy thrummed through him while his limbs felt heavy like lead.

He looked at his lute, but felt no compulsion to play it. He should probably eat, but any food would probably taste like ash in his mouth.

He laid back on his bedroll and tried to relax. He would be no use to Geralt when he woke up, if he was keyed up and anxious. He sighed and stretched out, his arms pillowed beneath his head as he stared up at the sky.

The stars were bright, twinkling spots of light speckling the inky sky. It made the world feel big, and made him feel small. He was but a small speck in the grand scheme of things. He glanced over at Geralt and felt a smile cross his face. Geralt was more beautiful than all the stars in the sky and twice as bright. The stars were just old light.

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

Jaskier was woken up by Geralt sitting down on the edge of his bedroll. He didn't even remember falling asleep. Geralt was slow to sit down as he leaned against Jaskier’s legs, his injuries taking a toll. Jaskier wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if it was more than usual. Was Geralt human now? Did his witcher healing at least do its part before Jaskier cut his hair?

He was pulled out of his spiral when Geralt spoke. “Your hair’s red.” Geralt said in a slur.

“What?” Jaskier asked, scandalized and afraid. Of course of all things Geralt was focusing on his hair, oh the irony. Jaskier also had the thought that somehow Geralt was seeing the blood in his hair from when he ran his hands through it earlier.

“In the light, looks red,” Geralt mumbled. “You’re beautiful.”

“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier sobbed. In the light of the fire—that he somehow managed to keep burning—his hair looked red. He buried his head in his hands, still curled up on his bedroll. He felt his tears plastering his hands to his face. He couldn’t look at Geralt. He couldn’t face his honey-golden eyes, full of softness that betrayed his hard edges.

He essentially killed the man he loved. Maybe that was a bit dramatic. But Geralt is, well was a witcher. Jaskier just took that away from him when he chopped all of his hair off. His beautiful silver hair. Jaskier knew that Geralt was more than his hair, he almost cried when Geralt admitted that he loved when Jaskier told him all the things he loved about him and his hair wasn’t near the top of the list.

Geralt leaned more heavily into Jaskier and sighed. Jaskier removed his hands from his face and looked up at the love of his life, his greatest downfall. He stifled another sob that threatened to come out and looked at Geralt.

“My head hurts.” Geralt said in a small voice that was out of character for him. He sounded so vulnerable.

“You had, well have, a head wound. It was bad. Oh Geralt it was so bad. There was so much blood. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You saved me.”

“But at what cost, my love?”

Geralt didn’t answer his question. He just said, “My hair’s gone isn’t it.”

Jaskier sat up and wrapped his arms around Geralt, situating himself behind him so Geralt was in the vee of his legs, still on Jaskier’s bedroll, Geralt’s abandoned a few feet away.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered wetly into Geralt’s shoulder, lightly trailing his fingers down Geralt’s arm.

“You did good, Jask.”

“Don’t tell me that. How can you say that? I took it. I took your strength. I took it all. I-I, I hurt you.”

“No, the monster hurt me, you saved me.”

“Are you even a witcher anymore? Can you tell? If I took that away from you, I-”

“I never wanted to be a witcher, Jask,” Geralt said as he leaned his head back against Jaskier. He let out a slight hiss of pain and Jaskier felt a hand was squeezing his heart at the sound.

“I’m sorry. I am. But I had to save you. I couldn’t watch you bleed out. It was the only way.”

“You did alright, Jaskier.” He paused. “Wanna see you, help me turn around.”

Jaskier sucked in a breath. He knew he would have to meet Geralt’s eyes eventually. He helped Geralt turn around in his arms and supported most of his weight as he leaned into Jaskier. He looked into Jaskier’s eyes and Jaskier looked back. He looked into those honey-gold eyes and he felt settled. Geralt wasn’t mad. Jaskier took in Geralt’s face. It was clean, Jaskier had made sure of that. And his hair, of course, was short. Silver strands cropped close to his scalp, uneven in a few—well many—places. The bandages wrapped around the crown of his head. He was beautiful.

Geralt kissed Jaskier then. And Jaskier kissed back. Geralt kept kissing him. Soft, gentle kisses. Comforting kisses. They laid down on Jaskier’s bedroll, Jaskier pulling Geralt’s body on top of his own so he could support him, so his head wouldn’t touch the ground. Geralt insisted on kissing him more. He kissed him until the morning light broke through the trees of the forest surrounding them in golden light.

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 9: Intruloceit (Pt 1)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 9: When you write something on your own skin, it appears on your soulmate’s skin as well.

Content warnings: implied abuse (nothing graphic), self deprecation, some internalized homophobia concerning polyamory, angst. 

(Happy ending in next part)

Word count: 1.7k

Janus didn’t sleep the night before his eighteenth birthday. Instead, he sat curled up on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, watching the minutes pass in the dim light of his alarm clock. His heart pounded as it drew closer to midnight, feeling like the numbers on the display were a countdown to his death.

He didn’t have friends, and that wasn’t a topic he would ever admit to being sensitive about. Most people would spend the eve of their eighteenth birthday surrounded by their loved ones, count down the seconds until they reached the strike of midnight, and then huddle around the birthday person as they wrote a message to their soulmate for the first time. A little greeting, an introduction, something to begin the process of meeting the love of their life. In a decent amount of cases, probably half, Janus would speculate, they wouldn’t get a response until their soulmate also turned eighteen, but the first note was still a special moment; something to celebrate. He’d never been a popular person though, by any standards.  Even back in elementary school, his general dark demeanor and habitual lying kept people away from him. Sure, it would be more fun to play at recess with the other kids instead of laying in the sun and watching the clouds float by, but his defense mechanisms were not something he was going to let go of any time soon.

When his bedside display finally read 12:00, he expected to feel something. A shiver up his spine, a tingling under his skin, anything. But nothing happened, and he couldn’t tell if he was more grateful or upset. He stared down at his skin, pen held in his shaking hands, debating if he should do it. The minutes ticked by, suddenly a lot slower than when he’d been fighting for breath in anticipation and fear, and the pen continued to shake.

Downstairs, the front door slammed shut, causing Janus to flinch so hard the pen clattered to the floor. His dad wasn’t supposed to be home for a couple more days, and he could hear his mom voicing similar confusion as she made her way downstairs to greet him.

“Darrel? Did the trip end early?” He could hear the hesitation and uncertainty in her voice even from behind his closed door. His father had left with the excuse of a work trip. They both knew that wasn’t true, and both had an unspoken agreement to not say a word about it.

“What are you doing awake?” The man’s voice was gruff, sleep starved, annoyed. He clearly hadn’t intended to run into his wife, the soulmate he had stopped loving years ago.

“The headlights shone through the window, they woke me up.”

“Well, go back to bed. I don’t want to be grilled by you right now.”

“Do you want some dinner? I think there’s some leftovers in the fridge-”

“I said, go back to bed!”

“Darrel, please! You’re going to wake Janus!”

Janus shut his eyes and ears as the yelling started, abandoning the pen and what little excitement he’d had previously. Like every night, his sleep was as restless and chaotic as the day time, haunted with flashbacks and nightmares that he had no way to escape. Words hit with as much impact as fists, reminding him of how he was meant to be alone. A soulmate could never love a royal fuck up like him. His dad’s words echoed and distorted as the blows landed, shouts of unlovable and worthless setting in his mind as tombstones. Images of his parent’s failed bond rifled through his mind’s eye at record pace. Whether they were a one in a million flaw or just a cruel reminder that soulmates are never as perfect as displayed, he’d never know. All he knew is that he’d rather be alone for the rest of his life than be submitted to the fate that had befallen them, abuse and hatred but unable to leave, not with the expectations and stereotypes they lived under. ‘Soulmates were perfect, never failing, an unshatterable bond.’ Bullshit. He knew he was also subjecting his soulmate to a life alone, but his fear easily outweighed his desire to be loved, or his sense of compassion. 

He woke up the next morning with a new heaviness in his heart, glancing at the time habitually. It was ten minutes before his alarm, but the thought of going back to sleep was too daunting a quest, so he rolled off his bed and padded to the bathroom to get ready for school. It was his senior year, and no matter how much he would rather stay at home and mope in his room, zoning out as he tended to do, he needed his grades to stay decent. It was the only way he was getting out of here. Half asleep, he threw on his yellow comfort hoodie, a stark contrast to his mood. It had been a present from his mom a few years ago, given with the uncomfortable smile between two people who lived together but rarely spoke. 

He clambered down the stairs two at a time, freezing on the last step as his eye locked on the person in the kitchen. His mom sat at the table, nursing a cup of coffee silently, barely acknowledging he had entered the room. Without so much as a word, he scooted by her, eyeing the bruise forming on her left cheek and slunk out the door. They didn’t talk much anymore, why would today being his birthday change that?

The day was nothing out of the ordinary, and Janus didn’t know why that made a certain hole open up in his chest. Boring classes followed by lonely breaks, a quiet lunch hour in an abandoned classroom and an uneventful walk to the park after school. He preferred doing his homework anywhere that wasn’t home, especially now that his dad was back in town. He needed to get these done, and who knew what would pull him away from his work there. Besides, the grass was soft and the sun wasn’t too overbearingly hot, and he desperately needed a tan. The darker his skin, the more unnoticeable was the huge birthmark that covered the left side of his face, a little something that just made him that much more avoided by his peers.

His pen had barely scratched the paper when a tickle over his right arm made him gasp, like a feather ghosting over the skin. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was, and after a moment of adrenaline and panic, it occurred to him that no amount of putting it off would prevent the inevitable. He’d have to acknowledge his soulmate’s existence eventually. With a deep breath, he tugged the sleeve of his hoodie up, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

From wrist to elbow on his forearm, a deep blue ink had scribbled down bullet points that he must have not noticed throughout the entire day, since there were too many for them to have happened in the last few minutes. He started at the top, eyes drifting hungrily over the writing until he reached the last note, still being finished.

Chemistry test next Friday, study cephalopods

English paper on William Shakespeare, ask Roman for advice

Talk to Patton about moving movie night to next weekend

What far away is Andromeda from earth?

Fix V’s pin 

Yell at V to stop breaking their pins

Get dad to sign detention slip

Extra credit for calculus due tomorrow

Do you want to get coffee?

Janus froze. That last one… what the hell? Sure, his brain was decently sleep deprived, but he was almost certain he hadn’t written to his soulmate last night. Except, damn, that question certainly didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of his notes; it seemed aimed at someone. Nevermind how they knew he was there, knew he had turned eighteen, they were trying to contact him, and that was more important. He picked up his discarded pen off the grass, twirling it in his fingers. What should he say? Should he even say anything? His original plan to ignore his soulmate was suddenly significantly more difficult, now that they were making the first move. They were a real person, not just a stranger, no longer a figment of his imagination twisted into something evil. 

But before he could touch the tip to his arm to respond, to maybe introduce himself or ask where they were in the world (why were they offering coffee if they’d never even established where they lived, he wondered distantly), a barrage of green script exploded under his poised pen.

YES PLEASE! I was awake all night. I just saw your notes, you want help with the cephalopods? I can quiz you, I know everything about them. And I guarantee I know just as much about ya boi Billy Shakes as Roman, and I know the FUN stuff too! Not the prissy romancey stuff. Did V tell you their pin broke because they tried to stab me with it and hit my pocket knife? Because they did. What did you get detention for this time?

Even with the small writing, Janus had to rotate his arm to follow the messy scratching as the… new person continued to rant about their day. He sat in shock, not able to process what was happening. This had to be a mistake, right? It was astronomically rare to have more than one soulmate, and there was no way he was one of those people. He had never been special before in his life, in either a good way or a bad, so he in no way was deserving of… this. Maybe this was a mistake after all, just like his parents. Another cosmic fuck up, where he’d have to live out the rest of his life, watching the two people fall more and more in love while he looked on like a creep. Isn’t that what he deserved, though? The two other people obviously knew each other; two soulmates who must have turned eighteen before him and met a while ago, if their casual interaction was anything to go by. And… he couldn’t intrude on that. Even if he did, if he popped up out of nowhere like a bad cold, they wouldn’t want him to join their pre-established relationship already. They probably weren’t even polyamorous, and the whole idea would just make them uncomfortable. 

His mind was too far gone for homework. So with a lump in his throat the size of a meteor and tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he capped the pen, rolled down his sleeve resolutely, and packed up his supplies. Anything his dad would do to him would surely hurt less than this. 

[yourillusoryenvy]

Just a dream

This is my first time writing a one-shot and sharing it with people. I’m really excited but also super nervous! I am open to feedback, questions, ideas, anything. Just let me know your thoughts!

Word Count: 1,032 

Note: (f/n) means “friend’s name”, I had no idea how to abbreviate so I just shortened it to (f/n). So in the couple instance you run into the abbreviation here just plug in one of your closest friend’s name.

*3:34AM, (y/n)’s bedroom*

Your eyes jerked opened. You could feel it.. It was here.

It had been weeks since you first started feeling this uneasiness. No matter where you were and what you did, you could not shake off this feeling of being watched. Could it be that you were being followed? But by who? And why? For revenge? Money?

You were an average person. A good student, with a few friends and a somewhat normal family — at least from an outside perspective — , normal hobbies, no crazy exes, no enemies per se, and no known stalker..  On top of that your family wasn’t rich and, for now, you were drowning in student debt. Your part-time job as a cashier only allowing you enough money to pay your bills. So money couldn’t be the reason. And neither you nor your family ever wronged anyone to warrant stalking so… Why would someone follow you? 

This is exactly what your friends had asked as they laughed off your concerns. They were right. You were being silly, maybe even completely paranoid. 

For weeks you had attempted to shrug off the feeling, repeating yourself it was all in your head, until a few days ago. You had started loosing sleep over it. Your own room did not feel safe anymore. It felt like someone was here, with you, in your room. Unable to ease your worries, you had started pulling all-nighters. After four days without sleeping, surviving on various caffeinated drinks, you were barely a shell of yourself. This morning, after seeing your exhausted face and your difficulty focusing in class, your friend, (f/n), had offered to stay at your place for a few nights so you could get some rest. 

And here you were. Laying in bed next to her. You could hear her calm, steady breathing. She was sleeping, unbothered by the presence in the room. You could almost touch her, so close yet so far... You were paralyzed, frozen by fear, your body refusing every one of your desperate plea to move.

As your eyes started adapting to the darkness, you were able to faintly discern a tall humanoid shadow in the far right corner of your room… On second look, there was no mistake: it was a human, a man to be exact. His face was lightly dimmed by the device he was holding in his hand. Your first guess would have been a phone but the shadow of the device showed weird angles that you couldn’t make sense of..

You wanted to scream, to run, to turn on the light, to wake up your friend, to do something… Anything. But you couldn’t. Your body refusing to cooperate, leaving you as a mere spectator of this terrifying scene. 

Your eyes were glued on the figure, as you were trying hard to pick up on any characteristic that would help you identify the man. Unfortunately, all you could make out was that he was relatively tall and lean; maybe even muscular considering the shadow of his arms. His hair must been short to mid-length per the few strands falling on his forehead. His face appeared to have soft features, and he was… smiling? No visible scar, no tattoo, no strong recognizable features. You couldn’t even see his hair or eyes color. 

“Just turn on the light… Just. Turn. On. The. Light”, you repeated mentally as if it would change something. Instead, all you could do was carefully watch for any movement. But the shadow stood perfectly still.. Did he know you were awake? 

When your internal pleas did not help, you slowly started focusing your attention on your right hand. “Just move one finger. He won’t see it”, you bargained internally. After a few agonizing minutes that felt like hours, you were finally able to move your pinky. The ability to control your body slowly spreading in your other fingers, your hand and arm. “Just turn on the light”, you implored yourself one more time.

You took a quiet but deep breath before lunging on the light switch that was on your left. The warm white light immediately filled your room. As you turned your head to get a look at the the far right corner, to see who was here, you saw… 

Nothing.

“(y/n)?” (f/n) grumbled, “What’s going on?…. Turn off the light and go back to sleep!”

“N-n-nothing… I-I’m.. Sure.. I-I’ll leave it o-on for now” you apologized, still trying to process what had just happened. (f/n) sighted and turned around before hiding her head under the blanket, as she fell back asleep.

You heart was racing from the adrenaline pumping in your veins.. You had experienced sleep paralysis before, but this time it felt different. It felt real, even now that you were undoubtedly wide awake. But no human being could have left the room in such a short amount of time. You must have only taken your eyes off of the shadow for a second, two maximum. No-one could have made a run for it, completely quietly, in that time frame. Was it just a very bad nightmare? Maybe it felt so real because you were so sleep-deprived? Or maybe were you making it up? Had you gone crazy? 

You slowly laid back down still questioning your sanity. While you did not want to let your guard down anymore, the comforting light, the presence of your friend next to you, and the lack of rest in the past 4 days, were enough to convince you to attempt to fall back in a much-needed sleep.  After all, it wasn’t real, it was just a bad dream… 

…Or was it?

.

.

.

.

*3:47AM, a few streets from your appartement*

“That was close call” Feitan noted while walking, hands in his pocket, next to his fellow troupe member. Shalnark only answered with a laugh, his attention focus on typing something on his bat-shaped phone. The young blonde had clearly enjoyed the thrill of almost getting caught.

“Why wait? Why not take her now? We thieves, we take what we want, when we want” Feitan continued.

Still smiling, Shalnark looked up from his phone, a smile plastered on his face. “Toys are meant to be played with”.

[marciaownsmylife]

purly hc - “what could go wrong”

curly sneaks ponyboy out to a concert that he is not supposed to be at

•ponyboy is stupid in love exhibit A

•the entire town was buzzing for spring break because there was a rock concert being held at the drive-in

•concerts didn’t happen often in tulsa and when they did they were usually some boring old people music the parents went to

•so just about every teen in tulsa had a ticket or knew someone or was gonna sneak in

•except ya boi ponyboy

•darry said no, and ponyboy begged for weeks and weeks but darry was not budging in the slightest

•soda was going tho, but he didn’t have school and he could pay for his own ticket

•practically everyone in the gang was going, except for darry and ponyboy

•pony was so upset over this, he had been sulking anytime anyone mentioned it, and it’s all everyone talked about, so that was a lot

•even dallas has gotten johnny a ticket, darry wasn’t too keen on that but it wasn’t his place to judge

•curly however was not only certain that he was going, this bitch had a whole ass plan to get on the stage

•and pony was apart of this plan

•so it came quite a shock to him when he tried to explain what pony had to do, that ponyboy told him he wasn’t going

•”what tf do u mean you’re not going?! how am i supposed to become tulsa’s next rockstar if ur not there????”

•pony was already in a bad mood because of the concert being mentioned so he wasn’t humouring curlys jokes (curly was dead serious tho, we been knew)

•but curly always got his way so he decided that he would just have to do a little more thinking than he was used to

•which was any sort of thinking in the first place

•curly suggested to pony that he’d just sneak out

•pony pointed out that he still didn’t have a ticket

•”leave that part to me, baby curtis, all you gotta do is be at your window”

•and so it was settled ponyboy was going

•but he made curly promise not to get on stage because if ponyboy was going he had to be careful not to run into any of the gang,

•darry had personally told them that there would be a cash reward for anyone who snitched on ponyboy, and this wasn’t just for the concert this was in general

•most of the gang didn’t really snitch that often but they all knew that the cash would be high if pony was caught at the concert

•curly was fine with it, as long as he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, whether that be sneaking pony out or getting up on stage, he was cool

•the night of the concert came and pony had gotten dressed with his pyjamas over his clothes and gotten into bed, he’d also made sure to be extra pissy that day so everyone knew he was pissed off because he ‘wasn’t going’

•which was pretty easy because being a brat was like his specialty with him being the youngest child and everything

•soda and steve has already left, so all pony had to do was wait until darry went to bed

•darry was a heavy sleeper, once he was down he wasn’t getting up until tomorrow

•but of course, he went to bed late tonight to make sure pony was asleep before him, or so he thought

•tap tap tap

•right on cue, that would be curly

•pony stripped off his pyjama layer until he was in his normal clothes and tugged on his shoes

•he opened his window, with as little squeaking as possible, to see curly with his signature grin

•”why ponybabes you look stunning,”

•”it’s the same thing i wore to school today,”

•”did i stutter,”

•they hurry to the drive-in because darry had made them late by going to bed later

•by the time they get there they missed the first song but it didn’t matter to them much, now at least all the flashing lights were already going and it would be harder for people to recognize them (more so ponyboy)

•pony had obviously forgotten his jacket because it’s what he does, so he grabs curlys because it’s fucking freezing

•after they had shown their tickets to the guy at the door, he had put X’s on their hands to show they were under 21 and shouldn’t be served at the bar

•curly wasn’t happy about this, he tried to convince the guy that he was 22, it didn’t work for a second

•they get in and decide to stay around the edges of the crowd to avoid people they knew

•pony was having the time of his life, the adrenaline of sneaking out and the excitement of being able the feel the guitar solo shake the ground was the best thing he had ever felt (bc he’s a virgin lol)

•curly was happy because pony was happy, he even managed to convince him to dance

•as the night went on the boys hadn’t seen anyone they knew, and they had even been to the bar to get water (to curlys disappointment), so they started getting closer to the middle

•curly really wanted to show ponyboy the pit before the show ended so they made their way there for the last couple songs

•this is where it gets tricky

•as another song started the singer instructed for people to get on eachothers shoulders

•curly thought this was a great idea

•and they had managed to sneak a beer each from the bar in the end so ponyboy wasn’t really at his best thinking capacity

•so pony got on curlys shoulders and it was all going fine until he looked to his right and saw johnny about three feet away from him on dally’s shoulders

•johnny didn’t see him yet so pony still had a chance, tugged on curlys hair to get his attention and motioned for him to let him down

•curly did so straight away because he thought pony was about to fall, when pony was down he pointed out johnny and dallas to curly, they were still pretty close to them

•they pushed through the crowd and we able to get away

•until pony bashed straight into his brother soda

•pony thought they were done for, his whole life was gonna be spent locked up in his room because darry was never gonna let him out again

•but he didn’t have long to contemplate his doom, before soda hurled on the ground next to him, and pony quickly put together that sodapop was absolutely shitfaced drunk, he probably didn’t even recognize ponyboy

•pony wanted to help him, but he knew if soda was here steve wasn’t far behind and he didn’t want to push his luck so he left his poor brother heaving up his dinner on the ground

•he raced after curly to catch up with him

•once they had evaded the gang they made a stop a the port-i-loos and decided they would leave now before the last song so ponyboy would be home in bed before soda stumbled in, ponyboy wasnt so sure that soda was even coming home that night but they had to be sure they weren’t caught

•two-bit finally made his appearance when they were on their way out, he was also on his way out but it wasn’t his decision

•he was getting dragged out by security for being too drunk. two had a surprisingly good memory so if he saw them he would remember it, no matter how drunk he was

•curly had spotted him just before two-bit looked their way, he was going to see them either way, so the only chance they had was to make sure he wouldn’t recognize them

•so curly did what any rational tipsy teenager would do, he shoved ponyboy up against a wall and started making out with him, covering ponyboy from view in the process

•it took ponyboy by almost complete surprise, almost because curly was a sucker for spontaneous kisses, pony just wasn’t expecting him to be so rough but then again curly had to make it look like it was some random broad he was with

•it worked, but pony and curly had forgotten all about two-bit by the time they were done, and two-bit was long gone by then

•they got back to pony’s house and snuck him through the window without waking darry and they kissed goodbye and that was that

•it like 5am when they got back and pony had to get up for school 2 hours later and he was not feeling it fam, let me tell you, this boy had never felt to tired in his 14 years of life

•darry was suspicious but pony had the perfect excuse that he didn’t sleep well because soda wasn’t there and he got a nightmare so he was covered on that front

•school however he had no choice but to go or darry would have known, it wasn’t too bad since most of the school were either taking the day off or in the same boat as him since they were all at the concert too

•the teachers knew what was up too so they didn’t really bother much that day

•he was walking home with johnny, he was honestly surprised johnny went to school today until johnny told him that he wasn’t actually at school

•he just showed up to talk to ponyboy after

•now ponyboy was like (nervous laugh) hehehehe whaaaattt ???

•johnny doesn’t fuck around, he gets to the point

•”so like are you and curly a thing??”

•ponyboy is just kinda like ‘deny until you die’

•”what? no, i don’t even know him, like, curly who???”

•spoiler it doesn’t work

•turns out johnny and dallas had seen them in the pit, they were gonna say hi after the song but curly and pony had sketched before then

•pony was like “shit when are you gonna cash in to darry and snitch on me then,”

•he had accepted his fate

•”nah man i’m not gonna do that, and it took me all morning to convince dal not to either,”

•pony’s like tf?? why not?? because if he’s being honest if he were johnny he’d be cashing in as soon as he could

•but what ponyboy didn’t know was that before he saw johnny and dallas, curly had.

•but not in the pit, behind the bar

•they had been making out

•so curly had this information that johnny had assumed he told pony about but clearly he hadn’t

•by now pony caught on to the fact that johnny thought he knew something so he played along

•they switched the subject after that, but johnny hadn’t forgotten that pony still hadn’t answered his previous question about him and curly, he decided to leave it for now

•soda had stayed at steve’s the night before and when ponyboy got home, darry was too busy lecturing soda on his drinking that night to even notice ponyboy practically passing out as soon as he got in the door

•but in the end, curly and pony counted this as a win

anotherrr purly hc because i love these boysss, my online school started back from easter break today so there might not be any more hc too soon :(((

but i have 2 more ideas lined up, one for jally and one for johnnyboy

i also kinda want to do a point of view from jally of this night at the concert idk we’ll see

[omg-imagine]

⊱ Forget Me Not (1/15) ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Mention of car accident, injuries

A/N: This is my first attempt in doing a series and I’m super excited/nervous. Everything’s mostly outlined already and I’m hoping to post a new chapter every Sunday.  If you’d like to be tagged in this, let me know! 

As always, I hope you enjoy!

The heavy rain poured down from the dark skies, battering against the roof of Keanu’s Porsche like a hail of bullets. Loud roars of thunder filled the gaps of silence every few minutes, followed by bright flashes of lightning that illuminated the world outside. The wipers moved impressively fast as they tried to sweep the droplets of water away from the windshield. Still, they could barely keep up with the torrent of rain hammering the city of Los Angeles.

Turning down a corner, Keanu cursed under his breath when he realized that the road was flooded. He quickly made a U-Turn back onto the main street, his tires skidding across the wet pavement. He searched for an alternative way that he could take, but the chaotic storm only made it more difficult for him to do so. He could hardly see what was ahead of him, and he was beginning to lose his patience.

Fortunately, Keanu was able to find an access road leading to the freeway. He knew it wasn’t safe going twenty miles above the posted speed limit, but he had already lost too much time trying to navigate through the storm. All he cared about at that moment was that the faster he drove, the quicker he got to you.

He could still remember every word of that phone call from nearly an hour ago. It was from an unknown number, and initially, he didn’t want to answer it just in case you decided to call him back. But something in his gut told Keanu to answer, and he did. It had been a nurse on the other line saying that you were in an accident, and you were rushed to the emergency room in critical condition. As soon as he heard that you were hurt, he was already running out of the door.

His eyes glistened as he thought back to the moment before you had left your shared home in such a haste. Keanu blamed himself for giving you a reason to leave the house while a storm raged outside. He should have held back his tongue, took your car keys, and convinced you harder enough to stay. If only he had done just that, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

The rest of the drive to the hospital was a blur. After driving for fifteen minutes when it should have taken Keanu at least thirty, he finally arrived in front of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. He parked his vehicle in a nearby lot before rushing towards the entrance, the pitiless rain soaking his hair and clothes in an instant. Reaching the glass doors, they parted for Keanu to step inside, and he immediately headed to the main desk ahead.

“Hi, I-I’m here for my partner, Y/N Y/LN,” he managed to say as he caught his breath.

The nurse nodded, checking her system for your information. “Yes, I was the one who called. Your name was listed as Y/N’s emergency contact. According to the last update on here, it says that she was wheeled into surgery about thirty minutes ago, Mr. Reeves.”

“Is she going to be alright?” Keanu asked wearily, hoping that her answer was what he wanted to hear.

It wasn’t.

“We don’t know yet, sir,” she replied sadly before placing a clipboard on top of the counter. “You can sit in the waiting room until the procedure is over. In the meantime, we need you to fill out these papers on her behalf.”

With a nod of his head, Keanu walked down the hall with the paperwork and a pen in hand. The waiting area was stark and quiet. The television mounted on the wall was playing a movie, not that there was anyone paying attention to it. There were a couple of other people scattered in the room, though most were asleep due to the late hour of the night.

Keanu took a lone seat in one corner of the room, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of his drenched clothing sticking to his skin. He then pushed his long hair back, letting out a deep sigh. The adrenaline had finally subsided, and he had the opportunity to just breathe. He already knew that this was going to be a long wait, and he didn’t want to spend the whole time mulling about the things that he could have done to prevent this. As a start, he decided to concentrate on filling up the paper with your information first.

Most of the questions it asked were basic, nothing that Keanu couldn’t answer. After being together for nearly five years, he knew everything there was to know about you. He knew all of your favorite songs, the foods you liked and disliked, the names of your closest friends, and more.

You had been nothing but kind and understanding to Keanu from the moment you two met. It wasn’t an easy life living under the public eye because of his job as an actor, but you’ve always handled it so well. No other person he has ever dated had made him feel so happy and complete. To him, you were the most precious thing in the entire world, and he has never loved someone so deeply until you came along.

God, why did he have to screw up so badly?

Keanu set aside the clipboard and buried his face in his hands. He needed to call your parents and tell them what had happened. With a sharp exhale, he fished out his phone from his pocket and called your father. As the phone rang in his ear, he planned inside his head how he was going to break the news.

“Hi, Keanu,” your father greeted. He sounded as if he had just woken up, which he probably did. It was only five in the morning where they lived on the east coast. “Is everything okay, son?”

Son. Keanu was very close to your parents since the day you introduced him to them. They had quickly taken a liking on him, seeing that he was the first man you’ve dated that treated you right. Your parents loved Keanu as if he were one of their own, and it broke his heart knowing that this was all his fault.

“I’m sorry for waking you up, but...” Keanu began, his voice starting to break as he tried to find the right words. “It’s Y/N.”

“What? What happened?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Keanu told your father about your current condition. As expected, your parents would be taking the first flight out of New York to be with you. After an exchange of reassuring words, the call ended, and Keanu couldn’t hold back any longer, letting his tears finally fall.

An hour went by, then another and another. The clock on display made time felt as though it was moving much slower, making the wait much more unbearable. Keanu would glance up, and in every instance, he swore that the second hand would linger an extra minute at every passing second.

The padded chairs didn’t bring much comfort throughout the night. Every so often, he would walk around the room, stretching his legs for a bit before returning to his seat. Despite exhaustion threatening to take over, Keanu pushed it aside for as long as he could. He was afraid that if he dared to shut his eyes, he would see the nightmare that was already haunting him even while awake.

Keanu did whatever he could to pass the time. He texted his mother and sisters about where you were, not expecting an answer right away because he was sure they were still asleep. He then attempted to read some of the outdated magazines available and watched whatever was on the television. He even resorted to simply staring at the window and watching the rain as it pelted against the glass.

But none of them were enough to distract Keanu. All he could think about was your well-being, and how you didn’t deserve to go through this. He didn’t want to lose you, and the mere thought of it was scaring him. You had so much life left to live, and it wouldn’t be fair for the universe to suddenly take it away.

Eventually, the storm relented, and the skies that were black shifted to blue, signaling a new day of life. The sun rose slowly yet surely, its natural light bringing a sense of calm to Keanu. For a brief moment, he basked in the peacefulness, only wishing that you were there with him to enjoy it.

“Mr. Reeves?”

Keanu turned around, his eyes catching sight of a doctor standing before him. He instantly pushed himself up from his seat, extending his hand for a shake.

“Keanu, and you must be Y/N’s doctor.”

“Yes, my name is Dr. Henderson,” the older gentleman introduced. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright, I guess,” he replied with a slight shrug. “How’s Y/N?”

“Well, when Y/N first arrived, she was in bad shape, but we managed to stabilize her. The car accident caused a lot of internal bleeding that we were able to stop during the surgery,” Henderson explained as Keanu took in every word that was said. “Unfortunately, she’s not out of the woods yet. She did sustain severe head trauma, and as a result, she’s currently in a coma. We won’t know the extent of her injuries until after she wakes up.”

Keanu lowered his head, releasing the breath he was holding. “And when will she wake up?”

The doctor sighed, and that’s when Keanu looked up, seeing the uncertainty painted on the other man’s face. “I’m sorry, Mr. Reeves. We don’t know how long it’ll take. It could be days, weeks, maybe even months.”

“Okay,” was all that Keanu could say after a while. “Can I see her?”

Dr. Henderson gave him a sympathetic smile and a nod. “Of course.”

Henderson led the way as Keanu trailed closely behind. The walk to your room seemed endless. Every hallway they turned down to looked the same as the last. The blank white walls of the hospital felt cold, constricting and unwelcoming, it was becoming a place where a person like you shouldn’t belong.

Soon, they reached the foot of your door, your last name printed on a placard just below the room number. All Keanu had to do now was push down on the handle and open the door. His mind prepared him for what he was about to see. But as soon as he entered inside, it was worse than what he could imagine.

He crossed the room with cautious steps, afraid that if he were loud enough, it might disturb you. Your body was hooked on many machines, none of which he could possibly know what for other than they helped keep you alive. Once he reached your bedside, Keanu saw your delicate skin littered with the reds of your scratches and the blues of your bruises. Seeing you this way made his chest tightened, and if he could, he would trade places with you so that you no longer had to suffer.

Your body laid very still, and it was unnerving for Keanu to witness. Bringing a chair closer, he then sat down beside your bed, reaching out to hold your uninjured hand. He asked himself how you could look so peaceful after experiencing so much pain. If you had been awake, you would have surely given him a smart answer, and the two of you would then laugh about it.

Keanu felt the tears pricking his eyes as he continued to grasp your hand in his. He would do anything in the world just to hear the sweet sound of your laughter again. Though he was unsure of what tomorrow and the following days would bring, he knew that he would be right there by your side, waiting for you to wake up from your deep sleep.

Because despite everything that has happened, Keanu loved you, and he made a vow that he would never give up on you no matter what.

Part 2

Tagged: @penwieldingdreamer​

[kth1]

Dream [KTH]

Dream [Taehyung x Reader] ⟶ Credits: @kimtaehyunq​ ⟶ Genre: Soft Smut | 21+ | Boyfriend AU | First-person Oneshot ⟶ Warnings: use of vulgar language, adult content, foreplay, creampie, fingering, soft, strong/mature theme, unprotected sex, bed sex, etc ⟶ WC: 3.3k+ ⟶ Summary: Your subconscious was messing with you a little too much, leaving you restless, nervous, and weary. Taehyung is here to reassure you though. ⟶ Teaser: My mouth parted once he put strong pressure against my spot, holding it there while intensely focusing on rolling my bud around his fingers. My toes curled up the same time my back arched, gasping “D-Don’t stop!” ⟶ Author’s note: One morning I woke up really early and got pretty upset by a dream of mine, causing me to not be able to fall back asleep. Since I couldn’t sleep, I decided that in the hours of the wee morning; I jotted down some drabbles/wips and somehow… I made a really soft oneshot. Ta-da! These stories are just pure imagination, nothing to do with actual life of whom it may concern. Hope you like it! 😊

I was tossing and turning in bed all night, not being able to comfortably fall asleep. My boyfriend, Taehyung, knocked out relatively fast after watching a movie with me. I just couldn’t get tired, I was restless. I was going back and forth with shutting my eyes closed for what seemed to be hours, only to find out it’s been a few minutes. Checking my phone out of boredom multiple times and placing it back on the bedside table.

It had to of been after 3 AM when I finally had some shut eye. But it didn’t last long.

I woke up overheated, panicked. My dream woke me up and gave my body full adrenaline, heart racing and everything. A dream that upset me and I was glad I woke up before I encountered anymore saddening thoughts.

Lazily, I threw some of the covers off my legs to expose my skin to the cool air outside of the comforter. Sweat accumulated behind my neck causing my hair to damp up and making me toss to the side with a huff. What was causing my sleeplessness? I checked my phone once more and noticed the time, 5:30 AM on the dot.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Why?” I said in a low whisper.

It was mid-November and it was way too early for a sunrise at this hour. I stared blankly at the curtains hanging in front of the window, trying to peer through the sheer fabric of it and watch the tree’s leaves move with the wind. I can hear the light drizzling of rain hitting the clear glass.

A weight shifted on the bed, indicating that Taehyung was moving around in his sleep. I turned my head to face my handsome boyfriend who was clutching to a pillow and laying on his stomach, face turned towards me with his lips parted. His eyes closed shut; I listened to his light breathing.

He looked so peaceful and calm. His facial features were relaxed and looked soft to the touch. I smiled to myself, thinking that I was so lucky to have someone like him in my life. So happy I can see him in this state.

My hand slowly made its way to gently cup his cheek. Taking my thumb and caressing his soft tanned skin as I continued to gaze at his features. My touch caused him to grumble in his sleep, wincing a little bit and moving his mouth around to re-comfort himself. My lips curved into a smirk, because he looked so cute. So soft.

It was when I pulled my hand away from his face where I unexpectedly heard, “Why’d you stop?” In a deep raspy tone.

Eyebrows raised in surprise and feeling a little guilty, “I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said.

His eyes remained closed as he communicated back to me. Exhaling deeply as he was slowly waking up out of his sleep. “You ok?” He reached out slothful-like to find my arm and rub up it in a comforting way.

I hummed, assuring him I was content. “I just couldn’t really sleep,” I mumbled.

Heavy-eyed Tae swiftly move the pillow that was under him away and latched onto me, moving my body facing away and spooning me from the back. He dug his face into the back of my head and softly placed a few sluggish kisses.

Tae’s body radiated with heat, causing me to shift the covers down a bit more. He smelt so nice though. His groggy behavior was super adorable, and he was definitely making me feel more at ease with his arms around me.

“Did you have a bad dream, Jagi?”

How did he know? I closed my eyes after nodding my head yes, trying to stop any type of tears from forming. I didn’t particularly want to talk about my dream at this very moment because it still seemed so fresh. I sighed heavily and pulled Tae’s hand up to my face to give a peck to the back of his mitt.

“Tell me about it.” His breath hit the back of my neck as his chest vibrated along with his baritone voice. He nuzzled his nose into my shoulder, I could feel the air exit his nostrils on my skin.

I felt my body get heavy all of a sudden, a weight I wasn’t aware of but now it made its visit and I had to deal with it before I bottle it up. “I-I lost you,” I hesitantly spoke, nearly choking back on my tongue as the words left my mouth.

A few moments of silence enveloped the room, allowing the trickling of the raindrops against that damn window becoming boomingly loud. I could feel my own heartbeat quicken at the anticipation and stillness.

“What do you mean?”

“You left me.” My stomach churned as a reviled the plot of my nightmare. My grip tightened around Tae’s palm, not wanting to let him go.

Peppered kisses contacted my shoulder briskly as Tae let out a displeased grunt. “No. No.” He spoke in between. “Don’t dream about things like that. I’m here, I don’t want to leave.”

That’s what got me. That last sentence got me to break. My emotions got the best of me and trails of tears escaped my ducts and flowed down my face. It would have been fine because I had my back towards Tae and he couldn’t see my face, but it’s my sniffling that blew my cover.

I knew Tae was on full alert now, probably with eyes wide open and trying to calm down his sobbing girlfriend. I just buried my face into the pillow and reassured him I was ok, before he could even ask again.

“I’m sorry. I swear I’m okay, Tae.”

“Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re allowed to feel the way you’re feeling.” His soothing voice caused my heart to ache even more. This man was so kind, so nurturing, empathetic and it made me vulnerable against him. He knew exactly how to handle me, how to make me feel good about myself. I really couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

“I just really, really, really love you, Tae.”

“I love you too, Jagi. You make me so happy; you have no idea.”

Taehyung squeezed me against his chest, smushing us together in the act of being cute and trying to lighten up the mood. I heard of soft chuckle behind my back, causing me to smile at him.

“Let me show you how much I love you.” He whispered into my ear.

“Tae—”

His actions interrupted my sentence when he leaned up and kissed in the crook of my neck. His contact was abrupt but soft. Scattering his lips along the column of my neck. His hand that I had clutched released from my grasp and made its way down my side and onto my hip, stroking the area slowly.

I inhaled sharply when Tae found my sweet spot under my ear. He began sucking on the skin and grazing his teeth, making me heat up more under his touches.

My hand instinctively made its way in his hair as I lightly pet him, slightly tugging at some strands that got intertwined between my fingers. He was making me feel in bliss. My negative mind was being transported over the moon with his arousing behavior.

The hand that laid on my hip slowly dipped into the elastic of my shorts, slithering through my undies and making contact with my folds. I could feel my face blush the second he started humming into my ear and nipping at my lobe.

My slickness was present, there was no denying that. I felt completely comfortable with Tae, I was willing to be as defenseless as possible with the man I fell in love with. His finger pushed into my slit, collecting my self-lubricated sap and slipping his finger up and down my wetness.

I jutted my butt back into him out of pure reaction due to the flick over my sensitive bud he did with the pad of his finger. My breathing hitched, while Tae’s was still steady and in control. When my ass pushed back into his hips, I could feel the slight erection he had going on under his briefs. He used his positioning to his advantage and put pressure back against me, while he toyed around with my clit.

Tae’s fingers expertly fiddled around my core, making my eyes flutter shut and my head rest back against him as he inserted a digit into my center. My teeth took in my bottom lip. Slowly fingering up into me, he added another finger. My hand reached down to his wrist and gripped onto it, not trying to stop the sensual pleasure, but to help guide him in the way I wanted to feel it. “Tae—” I breathlessly spoke out to him.

In a low husky voice Tae responds to me, “Yes, Jagi? Do you like this?”

My face flushed quickly, making me feel embarrassed that I was so engulfed by this sensation. But I didn’t feel shy at letting him know, “Yes.”

He removed his fingers from me, allowing me to take a breath that I didn’t realize I needed. Tae’s hands made their way to the band of my shorts and started tugging them down pass my knees along with my panties. He slightly pushed my lower back, giving me the hint to arch my tailbone towards him. He shuffled around, lowering his briefs to set free his member.

His dick made contact between my thighs, making me grin with excitement. He teasingly trailed his hard-on up and down my legs, tapping at my folds and then removing it just to repeat the process. Eagerly I tried pushing myself back onto him when he contacted me at my core again, causing the head dip in my slit and instantly getting polished with my juices.

Tae smirked as he leaned back to my neck with his dick positioned at my entrance. With his hand he drew circles with his stick, guiding it up, down, and all around.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.” He slowly entered me from behind.

Inch by inch Tae took his time easing into my walls. Allowing me to feel everything and adjust to him at a comfortable pace. Pulling back just to shove a bit more forward, until he finally sank his girthy dick all the way inside me. His lips made contact with my neck once again as I let out small moans.

Like music to his ears, my moans encouraged Tae to continue his work. He pumped into me at a slow pace, filling me up and pulling away. Making my body ache for him just to fill me up again. Small grunts escaped his throat, notifying me that this also feels good for him.

His fingers found my exposed bud again, this time without fabric constricting him. The double sensation shot a surge of pleasure up my body and my face glowed red. He was taking his time, loving me slowly and fully, showing me what it feels like to be together.

The tip of his member constantly skimmed against my g-shot, my pressure point. Not only his fingers were flicking around my swollen bean, but his dick was squishing up into my wall causing me to feel a strong coil build up deep within me.

My mouth parted once he put strong pressure against my spot, holding it there while intensely focusing on rolling my bud around his fingers. My toes curled up the same time my back arched, gasping “D-Don’t stop!”

The power was so much that a wave of electrifying sensations rippled through my lower abdomen and my body started twitching around Tae’s sunken cock. He kept a firm hold on me, making sure my hips didn’t pull away from him as I rode my orgasm.

Tae continued sliding his dick deep inside of me, pushing as deep as possible and holding me there. “I love you,” he repeated.

Coming down from my quick high, I tried twisting my body to meet his face. Locking our lips together straight away. “I want to look at you,” I stated sheepishly.

I felt his gaze on me, an endearing look. I looked back into his dark eyes that had a tint of seriousness to them, “You can always look at me,” he said smiling. I was completely captivated by him.

Tae pulled out without hurry, pulling my body to lay on my back and pushed my legs aside so he can fit back in place. Now I was able to see my boyfriend, watch him just like how I was when he was asleep. This time I get to see his features, his mannerisms, everything. Tae reached at the hem of my shirt and gently pulled it up and over my head, uncovering my bare torso to him. He leaned down to meet my face with a smile, giving me a warm kiss.

Both of my hands had made it into his hair, keeping him there to deepen the kiss. I moved my legs alongside his body, giving him friction against our skins. When we disconnected, we both stared back into another’s eyes, getting lost into our own world. We were both sleepy, tired, but still very much in love.

“God, I love you so much.” I blurted out.

He chuckled lightly, biting on his bottom lip. Placing one more peck on my mouth, and proceeded to my cheek, my jawline, down my neck, to my clavicles. His hands massaged at my breasts when his lips continued making light purple marks across my surface.

When he finally reached down to my boobs, his mouth hovered my right puffy nipple. Poking it with his wet tongue, forcing the area to harden. My hands ran up and down his arms, tracing his biceps and deltoids as I hummed in response.

I lifted my legs up and over his waist, wanting him closer to me. Leaning back down, he slid his dick back in, with my wetness giving him an easier time to enter. My hands gripped his arms for more support, while he thrusted deep into my cunt. Using his lower back, he bucked his hips up into me, forcing me back into another haze of what felt like heaven. He didn’t go slow this time, but he also wasn’t going fast. It was an immersed speed that made the both of us satisfied, enough to show how much he cares to make love to me.

Our moans together were a symphony. Trying to make this session last as long as possible, but also trying to make another feel as pleased as possible. We were determined for both.

“Ah Jagi, I’m close!” Tae panted. I can see a bead of sweat drip down the side of his forehead. I was in shock with how well he was holding himself back. How calm he was. But his orgasm was creeping up on him, and it looked like he really wanted to show me everything he’s got.

“Babe,” I whispered. I pulled him close by the back of his neck, linking my arms behind him and secured our lips together in a very passionate, sloppy kiss. I tightened my legs around him, limiting his space from pulling out all the way.

I believe Tae realized what I was doing, he caught on pretty quick to most things anyways. He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, trying to last as long as possible. But I knew he was caving in to the feeling of his dick being hugged by my warm, damp walls.

“Show me how much.” I whispered into his ear, letting out a whimper once he fastened his pace into quick sporadic strokes. Forcing himself deep inside me before releasing his warm load, letting out an exhausting throat grunt. Holding me close to him.

We both were panting, catching air as quick as it left our bodies. Tae laid on top of me, dick still submerged into my cunt. I could feel his member twitching ever so slightly, probably rocking down from his climax.

We held another during this time, until Tae was ready to roll off. He leaned up with a grin and glossy eyes. About to detach from me, I quickly gripped onto him and rolled the both of us over, so I was straddling his crotch as his member was practically glued in me.

“Y/n…” his croaky voice sent a heart welching feeling to me.

I kissed at the tears that broke free from the brims of his eyes. Wiping them clean from his now rosy cheeks. “Please don’t cry!” I said worriedly. Making him lightly laugh.

“It’s ok, Y/n.” He smiled with his eyes as his teeth beamed at me. “They’re happy tears.”

Even though these were tears of joy, it still hurt my heart. Not in a negative way, in a warming sensitive way. It ached; my heart was swelling up for Taehyung. And I would not have it any other way.

All my passion amped up in the spur of the moment and I leaned down kissing all over Tae’s face, leaving no section un-kissed. His hands made their way to my waist with his thumbs rubbing circles into my skin. He made an attempt to lift me up off of his sensitive member, but I refused. Instead I forced myself locked down on him, rolling my hips in circles. Using his shaft for my personal pleasure and his pelvis as an optimal place to stimulate my clit.

Tae’s head cocked to the side as his face skewed with hypersensitivity running through his strong figure, parting his lips and knitting his brows together. Both of our breathes picked up fast, our chests heaving as I helped get us to our next high, together.

We were more vocal now as we chased our climaxes, “Ah-ah Jagi! Fuc-,“ Tae moaned out loud. He groaned out in awe, watching me rocking around on top of him, riding him. The puddle of mixed liquids pooled between us, seaming through the connection we had and drenching everything in its path.  

I rapidly grabbed Tae’s hands in mine, lacing our fingers together as my body got shot with a rapture of pleasure, tightening my walls around Tae’s swollen dick. He choked back on his moan; the feeling so intense to him causing an orgasm to pop up out of nowhere. We both let out a high-pitched moan as we hit our peaks; him shooting more seeds up into me as I leaked all over his thighs.

This orgasm felt like I was swept from my feet, goosebumps all over my body, my body on an all-time high and trembling on him. Causing me to lose balance on top of Tae. He was quick to catch hold on me and lay me on my side by him.

We laid there, in our mess. A messy pile full of love. We embraced another, caressing whatever body part that was available to us.

“I hope you don’t have any more dreams or worries about losing me,” he placed a sweet and tender kiss to my forehead. “I love you too much to leave.”

I wrapped my arms tighter around Tae’s torso, cuddling up close into his chest. Shaking my head, “I won’t. I want to stay like this.”

“We need to clean ourselves and the bed up though.” Tae admitted, giggling.

“Another 5 minutes then?”

He smirked, reaching over to my phone on the bedside table and checking the time. “Ah, it’s 6:13 AM.”

I looked up at him, feeling a bit guilty on how early it was. Knowing we will probably have a very lazy day ahead of us. But I smiled when he spoke up.

“I’ll set a timer. 5 minutes. Then we’ll shower, grab some food and hot cocoa, throw these sheets in the washer, and watch the sun rise through this rainy weather. Deal?”

“Deal.”

© All rights reserved under @kimtaehyunq​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr is the ONLY place my fics are posted.

[timexistsnow]

my baby (oh my pup)

Chapter 4: talk (it out)

Techno and Tasha start to make a dent in the list of Tasha's Needs.

When the sun breached the window by Tasha’s sleeping form, Techno bundled up his notebook and screwed the cap back onto his ink. He’d need to kill some more squids soon. Stepping around the creaks in the floorboards, Techno climbed in over Tasha and slipped under the covers.

His sleep was much easier, getting the words in his head onto paper had soothed his mind and the voices. His dreams were silent for once, his sleep not plagued by nightmares of his own doing. Instead, he drifted, the sounds of Tasha’s oink-snores a lullaby.

“Techno. Up. Time.” Tasha grumbled. With a bleary blink, he sighed, getting a nose full of piglin fluff. He held in a sneeze, not wanting to have to bathe Tasha so soon again. No one deserved to get sneezed on. “Free. Me.”

His arm was poked at and Tasha clacked her teeth together, she was going to bite him again. Bite the arm that was wrapped around Tasha like a vice, securing her to his front. Ah. He scooched back and released her so she could trot over to the chest of clothes. The dandelion was still resting on it, but Tasha cupped it with two hands and set it into Techno’s lap.

“Oh, I’ll have to water this soon, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to kill your flower.” Techno shrank down, the poor flower was wilting to the point of turning a pastel yellow. At least it wasn’t full of seeds so he didn’t need to worry too badly about it falling apart, but the sorry sight of it made Techno blush.

In the middle of pulling on a pair of villager pants, she shook her head, her ears slapping into her face, “Yours! Do. What. Want.”

He shrugged, got out of bed, and let the flower rest on his chair next to his notebook. Tasha’s oinked at the sight of the ink and quill, she knew what was up, “Not yet, okay? We’ve got a full day ahead of us and we don’t want to waste time.”

She glared up at him but turned around to get her coat. She would need a sweater, Techno thought. Red, maybe, or blue. He had a habit of decorating the house with blue accents. Hmmm, a possibility.

They set up for breakfast, Tasha in her Pig Throne and Techno pulling out the food. Just as he had predicted, they were running out of potatoes. With his list out on the table, Techno could see the scrawl of Tasha’s Needs. The first task on the list was to make a farm. Time to be the Potato King. Did that make Tasha the Potato Princes? Techno snickered and explained to Tasha through bites of carrot, “We’ll do the farm, you should be able to help some. I’m a kind of legend when it comes to potatoes, so try to keep up.” When Tasha shrugged, “I can see you mocking me.” Another shrug. Nerd.

After Techno had eaten his food and offered a carrot to Tasha, he sighed to himself at the mere hope that she wouldn't wrench it out of his hand. Giving her a look of disdain, they got up and outside.

Tasha was adamant at being put down, wiggling in Techno’s grip. He obliged, and she started to waddle her way through the snow, exposing a path of frozen grass in her wake. “You. Help?”

“Make a snowman? No, we’ve gotta make a farm, Tasha.”

“What. Me. Said.” She grumbled the piglin word. Nope.

“Hey, that’s bad language,” great, he was turning into BadBoyHalo. She repeated the word, her excavation paused. “That’s the one!” His face shuttered, “Don’t say it again.”

Tasha opened her mouth but at Techno’s expectant look, she closed it. And opened it again, “Mean. To. More. Than. Me?”

“Yeah, kiddo,”

“Oh. Thought. Was. Supposed. To. Say.” She twisted her fingers around themselves and pulled at her ears similar to how Techno would when he was nervous. “Do. Not. Like… Word.”

“Then don’t say it.”

Tasha looked flabbergasted at that like it was the first time she wasn’t forced to call herself… ah. The piglins weren’t nice to her. She oinked and went back to moving the snow.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Me. Told.” She squealed, “Farm,” like it was obvious. Hmm, the area wasn’t ideal, being right next to the cabin. If someone saw the farm then it might ruin his image. But…

“Oh, thanks. I can put down some torches to make it faster. Unless you’re having fun?” Tasha nodded at fun, well, he should stop standing awkwardly. He pulled on his gloves- special make to fit his pig hands. Tasha was working bare-handed, but he didn’t have another pair, only the one mitten. She’d have to go inside to the warmth soon. Or, he could just place torches, but working alongside her was… nice.

Techno opted for making a snowball and rolling it along the grass, picking up snow as it went. Speaking of snowmen, “I’m gonna to show you a cool thing, okay?” Tasha peaked around her shoulder at him, tilting her head at Techno’s growing snowball. Waving her over, he instructed her on how to roll it. By then, it was too big for Tasha alone so Techno helped above her.

“The thing has two of these, so we don’t need to put too much effort into this one. I can tell it’s getting a bit much now.” Tasha was how he could tell, Techno having to put most of the muscle into it even as she pushed with all her might. It was nice to do something together, so Techno wanted her to be able to contribute.

The first done and the second on its way over to the first, the snowballs were about one block tall each: perfect. Techo told Tasha to back up and hefted the snow block onto the first one. It was more effort than he would like to believe. It was not because he was short. Everyone else on the server was far too tall. Plus, he’s a pig, so calling him short would be racist. The snow was just… heavy.

“Just. Tall. Snow?”

Techno snapped out his thoughts, the voices quieting their insults at Tasha’s question. “I’ll get a pumpkin, then you’ll see.” He jogged to the storage room and dug through a couple of chests. When he turned around, carved pumpkin in hand, he almost stepped on Tasha. She was shivering. “You should stay inside. Watch from the window, maybe.” The fire by Edward would warm her up.

She shook her head, ears whipping around. Okay, “I’ll- I’ll bring the fire outside?” Edward must have heard him, vwooping loudly, “Or, I’ll make a new one and put it by the farm.” He would just have to keep the snowman away from it.

Back to the chests, he went, rooting around for some coal, wood, and sticks. Finding them, Techno crafted a campfire. His flint and steel was already in his inventory, picked up back when he first planned to get wither skeleton skulls. That was only a few days ago, huh.

The fire was placed down first, lit so Tasha could get immediate relief from the bitter cold snow. She scuttled around it so she was on the opposite side to Techno and the half-built snowman.

Techno readied the pumpkin, “Prepare to be amazed.” In the blink of an eye, the snowman was alive. Tasha oinked, little hoofs stomping in a happy dance. The snowman glided towards her, snow dusting back to the ground. Techno figured that Tasha’s face was worth the extra work.

And then it wasn’t: Tasha stumbled to the ground as the snowman pelted her with snowballs. No: ice balls. Techno yelled out in terror. One last ice ball was volleyed, missing completely when Techno body slammed the snowman into the fire. He scrambled out of the melting slush, snowman already dead. Good.

Techno crawled to Tasha, still curled up. She shook when he pulled her into his lap, so he put his front to the fire. “Tash, I promise that I had no idea that would happen.”

She buried her face into his chest, but Techno saw the bruise forming over her left eye. He should have known. Instead of sitting there uselessly, he carried her inside and gave her a health potion. She looked hesitant, but Techno poured some into her hand anyway. With a gag, she licked it off. Pour, lick, pour, lick. They continued in silence, the voices growing louder. How could he have been so stupid?

How could he make this right?

He pulled out his notebook, flipping to the correct page. “The piglet stumbled through the forest, hoofs catching on roots. She couldn’t stop now, not when she was so close. Her breaths burned in her throat, puffing out into clouds.”

Tasha gasped and raised up her hand. When Techno attempted a smile, she patted his face. A real smile replaced the old.

“Finally, the forest started to thin, pine trees becoming prickle bushes. Up ahead a stream surged, not quite frozen over yet. There were stones, each close enough for her to just about be able to hop over.

“She skidded to a halt at the bank, water lapping at her hoofs. If she fell in she would surely freeze. There was only one shot at this.

“The first stone proved to be the easiest, only a block or two from the bank. The others, those would prove to be a struggle.

“Water splashed up at the piglet’s pant legs, soaking them. The frigid wetness startled her, making her stumble on the way over to the second stone.

“Oh, no!” Techno’s voice came to life. His monotone was gone, replaced by a storyteller's excitement and rapture, pouring his soul into the story. “She was tipping over! She refused to be killed by a stream and flapped her arms out like a chicken, regaining her balance. The piglet stuck her tongue out in concentration, water wouldn’t be the end of her.

“She had far more pressing matters, the stream needed to be crossed- now!

“A beast stumbled out of the brush, locking his gaze onto her, bellowing out!” Techno let out his war cry, Tasha oinking with pure joy. She patted his face and Techno continued.

“She froze, petrified. But, she had no time to be scared, she had to go.

“Fear made her quick, adrenaline made her nimble. The last couple of stones were hopped across and she went back to stumbling through the clearing on the other side.

“Her hand reached down to snag a dandelion in her hurry wanting a souvenir for her bravery,” Tasha paused in her patting and covered up the writing with her palm.

“Not. Soo- Souveen- That,” she bunched up her snout in frustration, “Gift!”

“... oh,” Techno… liked gifts. He hadn't gotten one in a while, the last one being a gag gift from Tommy and the one before that being a sword. This was nice. Tasha poked him and uncovered the book, rescuing him from his crisis.

He found his place, “Only a true hero would fight the beast as valiantly as she had.

“And what a fight it was! Cannonballs of snow and ice launched at deadly speeds. After taking one to the snout," Tasha grumbled at that, "she realized that the fight was not in her favor. That wouldn’t mean that she would lose, however.

“So run she did, far away from the battle, the beast gaining on her.

“Yes! Her flight would not be in vain: her castle was in sight. The front step in reach-

“No! The beast lunged, grabbing her into its maw.” Out of the story, Techno snuggled Tasha even closer than before, making Tasha giggle and snort.

“She would surely perish now. Embracing defeat like a true hero, she let out a sorrowful plead to her ancestors, begging for a swift death.” Tasha startled him by squealing out. Had he hurt her? She ended the squeal with another giggle, she was playing along.

“The beast was not merciful, digging its claws into her sides, making the piglet squeal out.” Techno dug his fingers into Tasha’s stomach, tickling her. Please don’t freak out, he begged, his plans almost always went right, but this was new. And just like that, Tasha was snorting and oinking, squirming in Techno’s lap. He chuckled, this time Tasha only grew louder, her piggy feet kicking around.

After a few more tickles, Techno stopped and Tasha panted, collapsing into his arms.

“Relentless it was, only vanquishing its attack when her energy was spent. She had no hope of escaping now.

“It bundled her up, immobilizing her. The beast would take no chances.

“To her cell, they went, surrounded by the beast’s bounties: texts of old, ones that she could not begin to understand.

“When she was deposited to her cot, for a moment she had hope for freedom, attempting to wiggle out of her bonds.

“The beast was no fool, seeing her attempts easily with its all-seeing eyes. Knowing that it would be foolish to leave her to her own devices- she would figure out escape soon enough- it wrapped itself around the piglet like a dragon to their egg. Its red wings lied on top of her, entrapping her further." His cloak came to encircle Tasha.

“How pitiful it was, to be at such a loss. There was no hope today. She was trapped.

“Tonight, she would bide her time. It was impossible for the beast to remain vigilant all hours of the night. Eventually, it would slumber.

“Then, she would strike.”

Techno closed his book, the pup heavy, or as heavy as her tiny body could be, and falling asleep. Techno smiled, cuddling her close as he carried her up the ladder to bed. It was nap time for her.

Tasha blinked up at him when she felt the soft wool tucked around her. Her voice remained just as soft as her yawn, “More. Please.”

Techno cooed, “That’s all I’ve got- right now. I’ll write some more just for you, pup.” She closed her eyes, accepting his answer. Soon, soft oink-snores were leaving her lips and Techno sat crisscrossed on the floor at the bed.

There were things to do, the list- even the farm- was nowhere near completed, but he… didn’t want to leave the sanctuary Tasha had created with her quiet sleep noises.

So Techno stayed by her side, studying his, or rather Tasha’s, cloak. The stitches were simple, he could probably recreate them. Out came the scissors and thread and Techno hacked through the cloak, cutting it a third of its old size. He ripped the fluff lining the edges off of the discarded fabric and sewed it back to the newly hemmed edge. It wasn’t great but it would definitely be more serviceable than the old cloak. Safer, too.

It had nearly been midday when Tasha’s nap started and was now hours later, Tasha beginning to stir. Techno reached for her hoofed hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. Small.

Tasha pulled his hand into her mouth- and the moment was ruined. Kind of.

She scrubbed her eyes with her other hand and stopped chewing on his fingers to let out a squealing yawn.

“Come on, we’ve got some more work to do,” he said gently.

Instead of hopping off the bed, she rolled off and into Techno’s lap, right onto the new cloak. Techno tugged at it, signaling for her to move. Once stood, he kneeled down and fastened it around her shoulders. It fit really well, a nice surprise.

“Thank. Techno!” she spun in a circle, her cloak billowing out around her, not dragging like it used to.

“We match now,” Techno smiled, “When I fix up your clothes it’ll be perfect.”

Tasha giggled and jumped into his arms, wrapping herself around him. He took his bundle of piglin down and outside. No more games. No more snowmen.

Relighting the fire, Techno pulled out his shovel and got to work. Tasha stayed curled up by the fire, “What. We. Farm?”

“Potatoes, remember?”

Tasha hummed, “Better. Than. Hoglin.” Pardon? Techno blanched. No, she wouldn’t have… but what else would piglins eat? It made sense but was no less horrific.

“What should we feed it?” one of the villagers asked. Someone behind Techno’s pen replied, “Pigs’ll eat anything, right?” They both snickered and chanted: “For science!”

“You’ll never eat pork again.”

“I. Like. Potatoes.”

“Even without the gold?” he welcomed the subject change, however incidental it was.

“Yes,” she said, “Why. You. Like?”

Techno thought about it for a moment. If anything, he should hate potatoes. With the months he spent farming them endlessly- no he knew why, “When I was farming them in a competition, the Potato War,” Tasha nodded, following along, “I was doing it out of mindless competitive nature. Back in Pogtopia- that’s where I used to… work before I came here- I was doing it out of duty. Now, with this farm… I guess I’m finally doing it because I want to.”

“Tasha. Want. Too,” she got it.

They continued in companionable silence, just the moving of snow and Tasha’s snorting breaths to accompany him.

In the middle of the circular clearing, Techno dug a hole. When it froze almost immediately, he went inside (Tasha tagging along) to get a fence and lantern. Studying his ender chest, Techno shrugged, he might as well go all out.

Two diamonds, two sticks and Techno had a hoe. He needed to be even more extra, if just for the voices' cheers and enjoyment. A netherite ingot and a Fortune III book, the achievement popping up in chat.

No one responded. It would be fine. L’Manburg would just think he was fully embracing his retirement, not being a threat. He sighed, his image might be ruined but Tasha would have food. There was a clear winner.

Tasha could help with this part, once the water was saved. Techno started hoeing the ground, getting in the groove. Between breaths, Techno told Tasha, “Grab some potatoes from the pile, you can plant where I’ve hoed.”

She scrambled over to the potato pile he had made for her and grabbed some spuds. Her tiny hands could only hold a few, so it would be slow and tedious progress, but Tasha didn’t seem too bothered.

Techno was finished first, not to his surprise. He walked along Tasha’s potatoes, studying them. A few he adjusted but most were deemed adequate. They weren’t up to the Potato War’s standards, but this wasn’t a war, this was life. Life with Tasha.

Walking over to the potato pile, almost two-thirds finished, he scooped up as many as he could carry and joined Tasha in planting, Techno starting at the other end of the farm.

After another thirty minutes, they met in the middle, Tasha jumping into his arms. He held her up above the farm so they could both view their handiwork. “I’d say that we did a pretty good job,” Tasha patted his face and he patted hers back.

They had some more hours left, Techno reasoned. His carrots were growing scarce, of course, he could always trade for more, but this was… fun.

Techno picked back up his shovel; Tasha sat by the fire to rest for a moment. The hours ticked on by. Blisters formed on his hands. Techno didn’t mind. Not one bit.

[animeniacss]

6 Years - Hoseok x Reader - Chapter 2 - A Home-Cooked Meal

Synopsis: 6 years. That’s all it can take to take another look at someone and see that they have completely changed. You were once an eager 20-year-old, with your dreams all in view, and Jung Hoseok at your side to view them with you. However, after a break up the end of your junior year of college, everything seemed different. Now, you’re a recently divorced single mother of two, and your life is nowhere near what you thought it would be. However, after reuniting with Jung Hoseok, you may just be able to capture a little bit of that exciting youth you once knew so long ago.

Feat. BTS Members, Nayeon (TWICE), and Yuna (itzy)

Genre: Romance, SingleMother!AU, Past Relationship, Drama, Some Depictions of Violence/Domestic Abuse

Length: approx. 5.3k words

Chapter 2 - A Home-Cooked Meal 

“So you didn’t end up kissing him?” Nayeon asked as she sipped her water. Nayeon had come over Saturday afternoon to get the details about everything that happened with Hoseok. The girls were napping, leaving the two of you without distraction.

           “No, we didn’t kiss.” You said softly. “I really don’t know why I said that it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

           “No,” Nayeon said. “The stupidest thing you ever did was marry Mr. Wonderful, Weong-Bin.” You both laughed at her joke. “No, but seriously, I don’t think he’s thinking about it as much as you are. Just drop it. There’s always next time.”

           “Oh my God, stop.” You sighed, setting your drinking down. “Hoseok and I aren’t dating anymore, what we had is over now. I shouldn’t have said that, and he probably thought it was really weird.” You chuckled to yourself. “I wasn’t the most fun date, either. All I did was bitch and moan about my life and my divorce, while he tried to keep things upbeat with jokes and all the fun things that he did after he transferred. God, it was so awkward.” Nayeon couldn’t help but smile at you. “Not to mention, even if we wanted to….kiss, Min Ja had a nightmare and I had to cut it short anyway to calm her down.” You continued to ramble on after taking a deep breath.  “There’s no way Hoseok wants to be involved with someone with two kids. He has too much going on, and he’s young and-“

           “Okay, stop,” Nayeon said, giving you a serious look. “Don’t say that until you hear it from Hoseok himself.” You sighed, looking down at your drink as you traced the rim with your thumb. “I’m not saying you’re definitely wrong, because you’re not. He’s young and single, but so are you! You’re still only 26 years old! Don’t automatically give up without at least going out with him a few more times.” Hearing her talk made you smile a bit, and you took another sip of your drink. “I’ll even babysit if you need me too.” Nayeon offered. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short. You deserve to be happy just like anyone else in the world.”

           “Thanks, Nayeon…” you said, the both of you reaching out and gripping each other’s hands.  “The girls are with their dad Wednesday nights into Thursday, maybe I’ll look into that.”

           “There you go!” Nayeon beamed. “Perfect! You have to keep me updated.” With a nod, you got up to discard of the now empty cup, taking Nayeon’s as well.

           “I don’t have much else to wear, though. There’s only so many times I can generate nostalgia with that romper.” Nayeon’s eyes sparkled.

           “How about when the girls wake up, we go out and shop?” you offered. “There’s a new little store that opened in the strip mall with really cute clothes, I went there with some work friends when it opened up.” Thinking about it for a moment, you nodded, smiling happily.

           “That sounds so fun. It’s a beautiful day to take a walk.” Nayeon and you smiled, excited to get some shopping time in with the girls, something that you haven’t done in a while.

           When the girls woke up, it took some time to calm them down from being a bit fussy, but once Nayeon mentioned a day trip to the mall, Min Ja jumped out of her bed and raced to her closet.

           “Mommy, I want to wear my new pink tutu!” She begged, jumping up and down. You scooped Hyo Bin up in your arms, soothing her as she was still waking up.

           “Okay, but you need some tights too.” You said, reaching up into the closet and pulling out a pair of black tights with pink polka dots. Min Ja held them tightly as she searched her dresser for a shirt, pulling out a bright yellow shirt with her favorite character, Pororo, right on the front. She beamed as she held it up for you to see. “You always wear that.”

           “But it’s my favorite, Mommy.” Min Ja said.

           “I can’t argue with that.” You said, and Min Ja cheered in delight as you gathered an outfit for Hyo Bin.

           It was a struggle getting the girls ready, just like always. Normally, if Min Ja wasn’t sobbing about what she wanted to wear, Hyo Bin was just a hassle to dress in general, throwing a fit in the way only toddlers can do. Luckily for you, Min Ja was satisfied pretty quickly, so Nayeon helped her fix her tights and the two went into the living room to wait while you had a mini wrestling match with Hyo Bin. She, no matter what, wanted to be like her big sister, and that included in terms of dress. However, she didn’t have anything resembling the outfit Min Ja wore, so she was put in a red tee-shirt and black leggings. She was kicking as you tried to put on her leggings.

           “Mama, tutu! No, Mama, tutu!” She begged, sobbing as you pulled up her leggings.

“We don’t have your tutu anymore, remember, you got it dirty?” you said calmly, holding her leg down to pull up the leggings.

“Tutu, tutu, tutu!” She continued to wail behind her hysteric toddler cried. You groaned as you finally managed to get her outfit completely on. When she realized she was stuck in her new outfit, her wails kept getting louder and louder. She kept trying to kick at your feet, collapsing onto the floor when you stood her upright as she turned her tiny feet towards her next victim: the dresser. Any attempt to talk to her fell on deaf ears, and she continued to scream and cry. You were trying to be calm and reasonable, you were trying so hard. But all you wanted was for her to stop, she did this all the time….You just-

“Cho Hyo Bin, do you want to stay home!?” You shouted. Hyo Bin only cried louder, and you picked her up, standing her upright and staring at her directly, a frown on your face. “Enough, that’s enough! No more crying or you stay home! Auntie Nayeon and Min Ja can go out together and you can sit in your room all day! Do you want that?”

“Noooo, Mamaaaaaaa.” Hyo Bin cried, sniffling. You took a shaky breath as Hyo Bin’s sobs began to stop. She hiccupped a few times, but she rubbed her eyes, which were red and puffy. With your adrenaline calming down as well, you felt a wave of guilt wash over you. God damn it…You knew it was her age that made her act like this, Min Ja was the same way, and you told yourself you wouldn’t allow the tantrums to get to you the second time around. You knew the line between firm and angry, and you feel as if you had just crossed the line for the worst. You pulled Hyo Bin into a hug, kissing her hair as you swallowed a lump in your throat.    

“Hyo, Bin, honey…” You said gently. “I’m sorry.” You rubbed her back as her tiny arms wrapped around your neck. “We’ll buy you a pretty new tutu, okay? I promise.” Hyo Bin didn’t respond, she just hugged you tighter as you stood up, keeping her in your arms as you headed out to the living room.  

“Was Hyo Bin being bad, Mommy?” Min Ja asked curiously as she stood up off the couch as you watched you emerge from the hallway.

“Hyo Bin was just crying. But she’s okay now…Shall we go then?”

The group of you walked down the streets of Seoul towards the popular strip mall nearby. It was always crowded, either with anxious adults running errands, bored teenagers looking for something to do, or bored adults sitting in the food court for three hours with no food to eat. The mall wasn’t all that big, but it was full of the newest shops and foods and had a little play area for young kids to sit in and play. Of course, that grabbed the girl's attention when you passed by it, and you assured them they could play in it once the shopping was all finished.

The the first store you went into was that new boutique Nayeon was telling you about. It was filled from wall to wall, ceiling to floor, with new clothes. Blouses hung on racks, pants were styled on mannequins, and cheap, yet cute jewelry sat right by the counters, sparkling in hopes it would lure people in enough to purchase it. You glanced around, seeing if there was anything that caught your eye right away, but you didn’t have much luck.

“Okay, Min Ja.” Nayeon said, taking the little girl's hand. “We need to find something that’ll make Mommy look super pretty. Can you do that?” Min Ja’s eyes sparkled, and she nodded in determination.

“Yeah!” You watched girls head off towards one of the racks, leaving you still holding Hyo Bin in your arms. You had no idea where to start, it had been a few months since you went out shopping for yourself. She reached out her tiny hand and pointed towards the rack of springtime dresses.

“Mama, look.” She said. You glanced in her direction.

“Want to look there?” She nodded eagerly. With that decided, you walked over there.

For what felt like hours, you scoured racks to see if anything fit your personal style. There were a few options that you pulled out, and that Min Ja had found. However, when you tried them on, you felt less than beautiful in them. Each outfit was either too tight, too revealing, or just not your style. And that was fair, after all, this was a boutique for young, single women, most of whom were probably childless. This wasn’t meant for a doctor’s office secretary with two young girls, and that’s why nothing looked right on you. You must have tried on about 15 different articles of clothing, each met with a disappointing sigh from you, or an awkward tug of the material before quickly tugging your way out of it. With an hour passing by, you stepped out of the dressing room for the final time, setting the next batch of clothes on a rack.

“Nothing looked right on me.” You said.

“What do you mean? That red shirt with the white stripes and those tight jeans made your figure look great! I still don’t understand why you don’t want it.” Your hand lifted up to rub your arm as you tried to think of an answer.

“My the figure has been reduced to pregnancy fat and stretch marks, Nayeon.” You explained simply. Nayeon sighed.

“Well then we must be looking in different mirrors. Min Ja,” she glanced at your daughter, who sat with her sister waiting patiently. “Didn’t Mommy look pretty in that red shirt?”

“Yeah!” She beamed. “Super pretty, like a princess!”

“See?” Nayeon asked. “Like a princess.” You smiled a bit. “I think you should get it.” Nayeon stood up, walking towards one of the racks and pulled out that outfit again. “Before it’s too late and someone else scoops it up from under you.”

“You think so?” You asked, eyeing the outfit again. “It is really nice, yeah…and it’s not too flashy.” Nayeon smiled as you took the outfit into your hands. It took a moment of self-convincing, and you tried to imagine yourself in the outfit once again. With a nod of determination, you looked at your friend and daughters. “Okay, then I’ll get it.”

Nayeon cheered, clapping her hands in glee as you took the girls with you to pay for the outfit. It was a bit more money then you thought it would be, but since it was the only thing you were planning on buying for yourself, you tried to justify the action as you handed the cashier the necessary amount, and walked out of the store, a cute little pink bag in your clutches. “Okay, Min Ja, Hyo Bin, want to go shopping?” The girls cheered in excitement as you led them to the children’s store that you bought all of their clothes in. The girls entered, and you watched Min Ja hold Hyo Bin’s hand.

“Hold my hand the whole time, Hyo Bin.” She said sternly. “Or else someone bad can take you.” When she saw Hyo Bin’s face drop in confusion, Min Ja grinned confidently. “But they won’t because you’re holding my hand.” Hyo Bin face lit up as she held her sister's hand, and you smiled as you heard Min Ja say those words you have been drilling in her head since she could walk on her own.

“Kay!” She said as they walked together towards a rack of clothes. You and Nayeon followed behind, searching around for different things. There were some cute options, like nice dresses for the springtime, shirts with funny writing and pictures on them, and leggings. The girls loved leggings, so that was basically where most of your money went. You had enough money to get some new clothes for them since you recently had donated a bunch of older or unworn clothes and they had been wearing the same few outfits. So, you went a bit overboard, but what mother doesn’t?

With the girl's different clothes squared away, there was only one thing on the to-do list before it was time to part ways with Nayeon and take the girls home: the play area. Finally able to rest your legs, you collapsed onto a bench inside the little pond-shaped barricade filled with slides and climbing equipment, and set your bags at your feet as you watched the girls run straight towards the plastic, hollowed-out log. Hyo Bin crawled inside, while Min Ja waited for her on the other end, squatting down and encouraging her out of the hole, the duo giggling. Nayeon took a seat beside you and smiled.

“You got a whole new outfit, good job.” She beamed. “Soon, we’ll have your closet filled with the cutest outfits out there, so you look your best on every date.” You chuckled a bit, glancing down at the pink bag nestled between the massive white ones that held the girl's new clothes. A little bit of the red shirt was poking out from the bag for you to see.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Your eyes were glued to the girl's every movement as you spoke, and you saw them run over to the little slides designed to resemble a tree. Hyo Bin went up first, Min Ja trying to help her from behind as a few other kids gathered in a line to wait their turn. “I just hope Hoseok wants to see me again. Even though I was kind of depressing, I had a good time.”

“I’m sure he will.” Nayeon said. “At the very least, he’s too good of a person to just ghost you out of nowhere. You should text him now about Wednesday, see if he is free.” You glanced over at your friend, who moved her eyes towards the girls as they went down the slide, before racing to the back of the line to go again. “I got this.” Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you scanned the contacts for Hoseok’s phone number, pulling up a new message.

“How do I even start it?” You asked. Nayeon gave a playful groan at your current behavior, and it made you frown. “What?”  

“Oh my God, it’s like you’re asking him out all over again!” She teased. “Am I in a time loop?”

“Well, I don’t want to seem pushy, we literally just had dinner last night!” You said, pouting.

“….Just say hey.” Nayeon said simply. You nodded, turning back to your phone and doing just that.

Hey~! (Sent 2:30 p.m.)

You didn’t have to wait long, because right as you set your phone on your lap, you hear d it vibrates, and you scooped it up, seeing Hoseok’s name light upon the screen.

Hello again! :D (Sent 2:31 p.m.)

What can I do you for???? :o (Sent 2:31 p.m.)

Well… you paused, pursing your lips as you tried to think of something to say. Then, you continued to type. I was just letting you know that the girls are with their father Wednesday night into Thursday. So if you’re free, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe get together again. (Sent 2:34 p.m.)

There was no immediate reply this time, Hoseok was probably thinking about his schedule. So, you set your phone down and returned your full attention to the girls. Min Ja had found some friends her age to play with, while Hyo Bin was sitting by the hollowed-out log, looking inside of it curiously, as if she had no idea she could see through the other side. You quickly called out to Min Ja that she had about ten minutes left before they had to head home, and Min Ja nodded.

Six of those minutes passed before you got a reply from Hoseok, and you pulled your phone out quicker than you probably should have.

I can totally do that! Yippee~! ^.^ Anything special you want to do? (Sent 2:40 p.m.)

Hmm, that was a good question. Dinner was already done, what else was there to do? A movie? No, too childish. A walk in a park? To plain. Dinner and a movie? No…

“What should we do together?” you asked Nayeon curiously. Nayeon pressed her finger to her chin in intense thought before she gave you an answer.

“Why don’t you cook him something?” she asked.

“Cook him something?”

“Yeah. You used to cook for him in our dorm all the time, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah…” You said. “Do you think he’ll want to come over?”

“The two of you alone with some wine and food? Absolutely.” She smiled a bit. “Besides, you spent all your date money today.” She motioned to the bags by your legs. After a moment thinking it over, you nodded and opened the messages again.

I know we just ate dinner but I don’t have much to go anywhere right now. If you want, I can always cook at home for you. (Sent 2:43 P.m.)

No reply just yet. Setting your phone in your pocket, you stood up and called the girls over. Min Ja was reluctant at first, but she said goodbye to her temporary best friends and hurried to you. Nayeon scooped Hyo Bin up in her arms, and with everyone accounted for, you all headed home.

Hoseok texted you back right as you guys returned home. Nayeon had said goodbye at the mall, wishing you luck with date planning before making her way to the train station, while you led your girls home. You got the notification as you opened the door to the apartment, allowing your daughters to hurry inside and make their way to their room to play. When you opened the message, you smiled.

COOKING?! Aaaaaa, it’s been so long since I’ve had your cooking! *(^o^)* I would love that! I’ll bring dessert! (Sent 3:15 p.m.)

You smiled happily as you sent him a quick confirmation text, and set your phone in your pocket as you headed into the girl's room. Watching them play, you took this chance to go through all of their stuff and put their new clothes in the dresser and closet. Wednesday nights and every other weekend were times that you dreaded. They were the times your girls weren’t home, and you always got lonely. But knowing that this date with Hoseok was coming up, it made the day feel less like a tug at the heartstrings.

All you needed to do now, was thinking of what you were going to cook.

-------

“Okay, girls,” You hummed, diverting your attention between both of them as the three of you sat in the bedroom. You were helping the girls fix up their outfits and pack their overnight bags. It was already 6, and you had only been with the girls today for about an hour, rushing to get bags packed and tummies semi-full. “Daddy will be here in thirty minutes, so let’s get everything packed.”

“Mommy, can I bring Bora?” She asked, holding her elephant tightly in her hands.

“Yes honey.” You were stuffing Hyo Bin’s favorite bedtime book in her bag, along with her doll, and an extra change of clothes for her. “Put her in your bag, and don’t forget to pick a book for Daddy to read to you tonight.” Min Ja hurried to the tiny bookshelf, pulling one out and returning to her bag, stuffing it in as best as she could. When you saw that she wasn’t fitting it in well, you offered a hand, and carefully put the book away. “Okay, it looks like everything is done.”

“Hungry.” Hyo Bin said, her stomach making gentle grumbles. “I hungry.”

“I know, honey. You’ll get dinner with Daddy. Let’s go have a snack.” You grabbed the girl’s bags, tossing them onto the couch as you led the girls into the living room. With them sitting and watching TV, you put some dry cereal in little bowls and passed them to him. Checking the clock, you saw that Weong-Bin would be there soon, at 6:30. Then, Hoseok would be there at 7. With little time in between, you were already preparing the necessary ingredients for your dinner tonight, the smell making your stomach growl as you thought about it. You had bought a bottle of wine, the bottle resting on the counter out of reach of the girls. As you were focused on your preparation, you heard a knock at the door.

“DADDY!” You heard Min Ja cry out. You turned to see her get up and rush to the door, her hands going up to reach the knob. You walked to Hyo Bin, who lifted her hands up to you as she begged to be lifted, and you did so before following Min Ja to the door. Opening the door, you took a deep breath and saw Weong-Bin standing in front of you. Still, in his button-up shirt and slacks, he stood with a hand in his pocket and his briefcase at his side. Weong-Bin worked as a successful electronics company as an intern right after you both got married, and he’s been rising through the ranks ever since. His sociable and convincing personality, not to mention his good-looks, consisting of short black hair, piercing brown eyes, and his tall, well-built stature, made him very popular with the people he came across. That personality was what made you fell for him in the first place, but it was also the reason you were desperate to leave him a year and a half ago.

You watched as Weong-Bin knelt down to take his oldest daughter into his arms, peppering her cheeks with playful kisses as she squealed in delight.  

“Hey, baby girl. Ready for tonight?”

“Yeah!” She said happily. Weong-Bin set her down, instructing her to get the bags, and she was eager to please, fleeing into the living room. Weong-Bin leaned in to give Hyo Bin a kiss, she giddily reaching out as he took her from you. You tucked hair behind your ear as he leaned in and gave him a simple greeting, the both of you sharing a brief and strictly platonic kiss on the cheek.

“I didn’t have time to make them anything.” You said as he stepped into the apartment and slid off his shoes.

“That’s fine. Sooyeon and I are going to take them to dinner anyway.” He glanced into the living room as he saw Min Ja making sure she had all her stuff in her bag. As his eyes raised into the living room, he saw the spread of prepared vegetables and the bottle of wine poking into view just barely. “You having company tonight?” he asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Since when did you have friends?”

“I have plenty of friends.” You crossed your arms simply. Weong-Bin stared at you for a moment as Hyo Bin reached for Min Ja to give her bag to her from up in his arms. You checked the time. It was 6:45, and Hoseok was probably on his way over. You fixed your jeans as you shifted awkwardly in your place.

“That why you’re dressed like this?” he frowned, motioning to the curve exposing jeans you had on, and the simple, yet elegant, way you curled your hair and tugged some of it up into a ponytail.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you asked. “They’re jeans.”

“Yeah, tight low-rise jeans. Normally you never wear jeans that show you off…like that.” He motions to you. “They show off the love handles.” You quickly used your hands to cover your hips as Weong-Bin laughed. “I’m kidding….obviously. You look good.” He hummed.

“Just remember to take them to daycare tomorrow morning.” You said simply, opening the door. You lowered yourself to your daughter’s level and kissed Min Ja goodbye. “Be good for Daddy, okay? I’ll call you before bedtime.”

“Okay.” She said happily, her hands wrapping around you as you gave her a tight hug. You stood up, kissing Hyo Bin as well, before looking at Weong-Bin one last time. He flashed a slight smile, before taking Min Ja’s hand and leading her out of the apartment. “Bye, Mommy!” Min Ja called.

“Bye, Mama!” Hyo Bin shouted as well, her tiny plump hand flapping vigorously as she looked at you. You rested against the door frame as you waved them off.

“Bye, girls. I love you~.” You cooed. You watched Weong-Bin ask Min Ja about dance all the way into the elevator, distant chatter of her upcoming dance recital set making her eyes sparkle as she told him all the details. When the elevator doors closed behind them, you took a deep breath and closed the door behind you, locking it. Stepping back into the apartment, you walked past the mirror and stopped to look at yourself. Your hands lifted up to your shirt, lifting it from being tucked inside your jeans and exposing your belly. One hand reached down and gripped your sides just slightly, seeing some extra skin mush between your fingers. “…Do I really have love handles?” you mumbled softly to yourself. After staring at yourself for just a moment longer, you realized the answer was probably one you didn’t want to hear. So, tucking your shirt back into your jeans, you made your way into the kitchen to finish preparing for Hoseok’s arrival.

When 7 hit, you waited anxiously for Hoseok to arrive. Dinner was prepared, set on the table and covered to keep the heat from getting out. The wine, along with two wine glasses was set on the table, and you walked past it, moving the bottle over just a little bit to make sure it was placed just right and able to be seen. As you fixed the table, a loud knock was heard at your door. Gulping, you stood up, walking towards the door as you fixed your shirt in the mirror.

“Coming!” You called, stopping to take one last glance in the mirror. It took a moment, but you ran a hand through your hair. This was the best you were going to get, so it would have to do. As you walked to the door, you unlocked and opened it to reveal Hoseok. He was dressed casually as well, with a black shirt and a beige jacket with jeans and a hat. It seemed he was clutching a plastic bag, most likely the dessert he offered to buy. He smiled as he lifted a hand from his pocket as you both quickly embraced in a hug.

“Hey.” He said happily. “Hope I’m not early.”

“Early? No, you’re right on time. I just finished cooking. Come on in.” Hoseok smiled as you motioned him inside, closing the door behind you. “I hope you’re hungry. I made some kimchi chicken and bacon fried rice.” You motioned to the spread of food on the table.

“Ooooo~!” Hoseok’s eyes lit up, clasping his hands together in glee. “Awesome!” He hummed as the two of you walked to the table. He smiled, pulling the chair out and motioning to you. “Ladies first~.” He cooed.

“As gentlemanly as ever, I see.” You chuckled, sitting in the seat as he pushed you in, a playful smile decorating his face. He took the seat across from you and clasped his hands together. You got up to remove the covers from the food, exposing the rice, vegetables, and the kimchi chicken and bacon. “I really hope you like it.” You said happily, a smile forming on your lips as you saw Hoseok’s eyes sparkle once again.

“Woooah! This looks incredible!” He beamed, grabbing his chopsticks. He gave a quick thanks, looking eager to jump in. Just as he was about to, he glanced at you. “We’re good to eat, right?” You laughed a bit, nodding as you watched him grin. He let out a little squeal of delight as he took some onto his plate, and you reached in with your chopsticks to do the same. As Hoseok put a bite in his mouth, and he looked at you. “You’re still such a good cook!” He said in awe after swallowing his bite. “Just as delicious as ever!”

“Oh stop.” You mumbled, your face turning red as you put another bite in your mouth.

“I’m serious!” He assured. “I always thought you made the best kimchi around! Do you know how many times I was tempted to track you down just to ask you to make me some?”

“How many times?” you smiled.

“A lot!” You laughed, lifting your hand to cover your mouth to cover it and muffle the laughter. “Hm? Why are you laughing? It’s true!” He pouted a bit.

-----

           “Min Ja do you know any of Mommy’s friends?” Weong-Bin asked curiously. He was laying in Min Ja’s bed with her, holding her favorite book in his hands. They had just finished reading a story to Hyo Bin and setting her down to bed, and now it was Min Ja’s turn. Min Ja glanced up at her father curiously.

           “There’s Auntie Nayeon…and Uncle Tae…and uhm….Mr. Hobi and Mr. Jimin.”

           “Your ballet teacher?” Min Ja nodded. “And who is this Mr. Hobi?”

           “He teaches dance too. But not me. He’s funny to dance with.” She giggled. “Yuna babysat us so they could go out. But…” her lips formed a tight pout as she looked up at her dad. “Can I tell you something super secret?”

           “Of course, honey.” Weong-Bin raised his eyebrow. Min Ja scooted herself up a bit so that she was by his ear. Leaning in close, she cupped her hand over his ear and her mouth.

           “Yuna said Mommy went on a date with Mr. Hobi.” Weong-Bin looked at Min Ja as she snuggled herself back into place. “But she said to keep it a secret because it would make Mommy shy…” she giggled. Weong-Bin pursed his lips together in a tight frown. “Mommy looked so pretty, too.”

           “I’m sure she did, honey.” He said softly, glancing down at her.

           “Can we keep reading the story now?” She asked. He glanced down at her, seeing her hold the story tightly in her hands. He nodded, smiling as he planted a kiss in her hair.

           “Of course.” Min Ja nuzzled close to him as he looked back down and continued reading the bedtime story, before watching her fall asleep and tucking her into bed. As he watched his daughters sleep peacefully, he closed the door behind him and headed to his shared bedroom. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

           “A date, huh?”

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[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Jerry Renault

(Not my gif)(Requested by several anonymous asks)

- Following the idea that Trinity isn’t an all boys school: you meet Jerry in school or rather your way home from school.

- He was in a few of your classes but you hadn’t really spoken to him as he seemed far more concerned with his own thoughts then anything or anyone else. But as you took you seat you couldn’t help but notice how charming he had looked in his own shy boyish way.

- From the minute you saw him you thought he was cute. Because of this you spent most of the classes you had with him taking glances at his distracted face and trying your best to pay attention to your teachers.

- At the end of class you had passed him while walking through the door to leave. That’s when he finally noticed you and his breath was taken away. He just stared after you wide eyed and flushed feeling like time had just stopped.

- He asked around the school for your name (Which basically consisted of a few guys he was friendly with) but had no luck in finding out anything about his new mystery dream girl. He was a bit frustrated; he had started his quest after first period and had now gone the whole day with no answer. And on top of that he would have to wait until he saw you again in class the next day. 

- He was leaning against his locker when you passed him on your way out the school’s entrance. He watched in awe as you walked past feeling absolutely blessed that you two happened to cross paths again before he would have to wait a day to see you.

- You had just sat down on the bus stop bench and were rummaging through your bag when you noticed someone standing on the either side of the bench. You sneaked a glance at them only to find that it was Jerry and that his eyes were trained on you.

- He would glance away like he was trying to think of something and would then turn back to you, part his lips like he was about to speak before ultimately closing his mouth and repeating this cycle. You kind of found it cute.

“Uh hi... Jerry, right?” You decided to put him out of his misery. “Aren’t you in my first period class?”

“Oh...uh yeah, yeah I am.”

“Catching the bus too?” He nods. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

- You talked to him for a while as you waited for your bus and when it arrived the two of you sat next to each other. When you had to get off for your stop the both of you couldn’t help but be disappointed but once you were gone Jerry couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face because the two of you had actually talked.

- This would go on for a few weeks before the two of you would have your first kiss. You had been sitting on the bus stop bench with him like always when you brought up the chocolate sale or more so his refusal to participate. You told him how you were worried about him taking this too far and getting too mixed up in the vigils as well as him potentially getting in trouble with the school.

- While you were talking he sort of stared at you, his lips quirking into a small soft smile before he had leaned in and kissed you effectively stopping your speech. When he pulled away he connected your foreheads and told you not to worry. You let out a breathy chuckle before you pulled his face to yours and kissed him again.

- Even though the two of you had just kissed; twice, he was still nervous and awkward when asking you to be his girlfriend. But of course you agreed and the two of you walked around town stepping into various shops instead of getting on your bus. The two of you would consider this stroll through the town your “first date”.

- Jerry is slightly tough starved so any affection you give him makes his day.

- He loves when you play with or fix his hair. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch whenever you do.

- His hugs are always tight like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on or like you’re the only thing that’s keeping him grounded.

- He actually really likes when you kiss his neck and likes to do the same to you. He loves hearing your breath hitch when he moves from your lips to your sweetspot.

- Definitely no hickeys. He doesn’t like how they look on you and he definitely doesn’t want anyone in his catholic school seeing any on either of you especially the teachers.

- Going to his football games and cheering him on. He loves seeing you in the crowds and can’t help but smile when he hears your voice whenever he makes a pass or a score.

- He sometimes gets you to play it with him; usually just throwing the ball to each other. He lets you wear his jersey whenever you agree to play.

- He loves watching you; doesn’t matter what you’re doing as long as he gets to see your beautiful face.

- He’ll usually smile and compliment you whenever you catch him watching.

“God you’re beautiful.”

- Sweet slow kisses that make your heart flutter.

- He always walks you home and sits next to you on the bus. He doesn’t like the thought of you walking or sitting alone even though you’ve been doing it practically your whole life.

- He likes to hold hands whenever he’s walking you home.

- Most of your “dates” are at his house usually sitting together on his bed and talking or sitting on the couch and watching television.

- He actually loves trying new things and going on adventures with you even though it rarely happens since your town isn’t the most exciting. He’s always itching to do something adrenaline inducing.

- It’s so refreshing to him to be able to talk to you. He doesn’t have many friends that he talks to and his dad hardly has anything to say so when he can actually have a full on conversation with someone (especially someone who he loves) it feels like he’s been energized.

- Gossip with him; tell him the good, the bad, the ugly; he wants to know and he’s listening to every word you say.

- You always try to comfort him when he needs it. Whether it be because of school or family issues; you just want to let him know you’re there for him.

- He’s sort of scared to fall asleep next to you because he doesn’t want to wake up from a nightmare about his mother or something like it and have to explain himself.

- Once he opens up to you about all that’s happened he has no problem having you sleep over, taking naps or cuddling together.

- Speaking of cuddling; he is definitely the little spoon but more often then not he’s laying his head on your chest with your arms wrapped around him.

- You always steal his sweaters when you go over to his place. School uniforms are uncomfortable as hell and you definitely don’t want to wear them when you’re cuddling.

- You almost feel proud when he makes an innuendo or dirty joke about you and your uniform (more specifically the mandatory skirt).

- Wandering around town together to try and get away from everything.

- Late night phone calls to each other.

- Pecks on the cheek and forehead.

- Doing your homework together while listening to the radio; sometimes the both of you will quietly sing along.

- He likes putting his hand in your back pockets or front pockets when he’s behind you. He’ll lean his head on your shoulder and slide his hand in your front pockets pulling you back into his chest.

- He loves seeing you try new things with your hair, makeup, or clothes. He thinks it’s really cool to see you change different aspects of your appearance and diverge from the ordinary.

- He prefers innocent pda; he’d much rather keep what you do together private so the most you’ll get is a peck on the lips and his arms wrapped around you.

- If you’re slightly hidden or in an area that isn’t crowded he wouldn’t mind giving you an actual kiss. He actually likes the idea of kissing you in public but most of the time he imagines it more then he actually goes through with it.

- Teasing each other. He always gets this cute little smirk on his face when the both of you do.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah really.”

- He’s really soft with you; he’s had his moment of being rough and tough and he can officially say he’s done with being that person. He hated the feeling of standing in that ring and being delicate with you makes him feel much better about it.

- Occasionally he’ll have this sudden urge to just kiss you hard and passionately. It’s usually after he’s gotten frustrated or angry; he’ll just pull you in and take your breath away.

- You honestly wear the pants in the relationship. He pretty much follows whatever you tell him to do and let’s you lead whenever you two are doing something unless it’s his idea.

- He likes running his hands down your body both innocently and not so innocently. Just caressing your skin nice and slow as the two of you lay together, exploring every inch of you.

- You definitely teach each other a lot of things and take a lot of each other’s firsts.

- You patch him up after the fight and any bully situations. He’s always really thankful for you in these moments.

- You definitely glare at everyone when they ignore him at school and the both of you rant about brother Leon together.

- Archie has definitely flirted with you or sent someone to flirt with you to try and piss him off. It usually only works when it’s Archie even though he knows he’s just doing it to annoy him.

- When it’s someone other then Archie he gets more upset then angry and jealous. He trusts you wholeheartedly but he’ll compare himself to the guy and wonder if you’d like him better.

- It doesn’t take much to make him forget about the whole ordeal especially if you blow the guy off right away.

- You really never fight. Neither of you ever really have a reason to and if you do it’s easily resolved to the point where you can’t even call it an argument.

- You’re a pretty perfect couple. You rarely have problems and you’re always happy together. It’s obvious to everyone that the two of you are gonna last.

- He waits a while before he says his first “I love you”. He doesn’t exactly know when he’s supposed to say it so he just waits until he thinks it’s the perfect moment. The moment he says it makes up for all the time spent waiting; you can’t even really complain.

- He tells you about his mother later in the relationship. Of course you kind of know what happened but he actually gives you the details and how it affected him and his dad.

- He’ll sometimes say things like “she would have really liked you” when you ask about his mother or something about her comes up in conversation. It never fails to make your heart ache in a flattered/touched way.

- He definitely thinks about marrying you or at least your future together. He knows he’s too young to be thinking about that kind of stuff but everytime he looks at you smiling at him or feeling your hands on him he just can’t help it.

[wellhellotragic]

Be Alright (3/?)

Summary: Sometimes all it takes is one phone call to completely turn our lives upside down.

He’d left. That was all she’d known. He’d packed up in the middle of the night after a stupid fight, leaving no trace behind of where he’d gone. But when David’s phone rang one night telling them that Killian was in a hospital in Boston, everything changed. For Emma, it was the last call she ever expected and it meant facing the ghosts of her past and releasing everything she’d kept bottled up and hidden away.

But then again sometimes it’s the tragedies in our lives that finally let us feel again.

A/N: Better late than never right?

Previous chapters: 1, 2

If Ao3 is more your jam...

They were in Paris, sitting in a cafe just down the street from the Eiffel Tower. Two glasses of wine on the table as they took turns sharing their food with one another. A feeling of pure and complete peace descending upon her.

Things like that didn’t really happen though. Not to people like Emma. She should have realized that it was a dream right away, but part of her wanted to believe it. She’d had that same dream before, in happier times. The first time was just after Killian had finished something on one of his boats. There was a technical term for the way he’d sculpted the wood, carved into it, but she’d never bothered to really learn any of it. No, she’d always been content to just sit in a chair in his warehouse watching him work. Watching as the sweat beads rolled down his face, falling from his chin. The way his muscles flexed under his dampened shirt.

Watching him build his boats had always turned her on, even when they all went as a group to see his latest projects. He was an artist, his creations marvels. He was always so determined and focused, she and David would often have to drag him away. But on the days that she visited alone, she slowed him down immensely. Not that he’d complained. But that was in the beginning. Before she felt confident enough to let him sleep over. Instead she’d sneak a visit to him while he worked, letting herself become worked up in the process. They’d make love there. Sometimes on the couch he had in his office, sometimes on the deck of a boat that was barely large enough to fit one person.

It had been exciting in a way. The newness of whatever they had. The knowledge that they could get caught by an unsuspecting client. On that day, he’d been covered in paint and she jumped him the second he was done. They hadn’t even made it to his office, barely grabbing an old sheet he used as a tarp to shield them from the cold concrete floor. He was insatiable, and she reveled in it.

She dreamed that night. A tiny flickering of something as she curdled into his side on that tarp. It was she and Killian, in France. They toured vineyards, danced in their small third story walkup. They kissed and held each other without care. She was happy, and it terrified her, even in unconscious fantasies; the worry often ripping her stomach to shreds as she lay in bed after. She wasn’t lucky. She wasn’t the girl that got everything.

Every night after the images returned, growing over the months they spent together, until one night when she dreamt they were married and panicked. She woke clawing at her chest, struggling to breathe. Killian had done his best to soothe her, but she was inconsolable. The walls closed in and she felt trapped by the pressure of something unattainable.

She tried to tell him that she couldn’t do it anymore. That she couldn’t keep seeing him. That it would all blow up in her face eventually and the deeper she let him in, the more painful it would be. She tried to end it right then and there but he wouldn’t have it.

They talked all night, yelled, screamed, fought. But he wouldn’t leave. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to cry in front of someone. He just held her tightly and promised her that he would never ask more of her than she was willing to give. He promised to never push her for more. That he would never leave her.

The dreams stopped after that. The terror that always accompanied them falling away as well. She hadn’t even thought about them in years. Not until she dreamt it again sitting in a chair in his hospital room. But this time, she was content. The rush of adrenaline, the quickened heart beats, the constricting chest. All gone.

But it was all a lie. He did ask for more, and then he left. He abandoned her, moved on, and she was left with the dream, the nightmare. Trapped in her own mind, still able to feel his breath on the back of her neck as they danced on the terrace.

And then it was over. Shattered by the shreil beeping of his IV machine.

“Go back to sleep. I’m gonna go get a nurse to check on the machine and make sure something isn’t wrong.”

Emma blinked, trying to fight off the lingering vestige of sleep. To fight the heaviness of her eyelids. The beeping was intense and unabating. Opening her eyes a bit more, she saw a light flashing on the pump. Annoying as the sound was, it had done nothing to rouse him, something that worried her. He should have been up hours ago. That’s what the doctor said.

Mary Margaret and the nurse returned. The latter pushed a yellow button on the machine and the beeping stopped. She checked the bag hanging above it, and the lines leading to the machine, humming a little tune as she did so. Her fingers grazed down the line continuing into Killian’s wrist before she stopped, moving the palm closest to Emma a bit.

“Ah, I think I see the problem. The machine can be really temperamental and sometimes if you twist the hand a certain way it can set it off.”

Emma hadn’t even realized that she’d been holding his hand in her sleep. She must have pulled on it and messed up the needle.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine dear. Just try to keep his wrist straight.”

The nurse gave her a smile and left the room, leaving the door wide open behind her. She hadn’t realized how late it was until she saw how well lit the hallway was compared to the room.

“Where are the guys?”

“Oh, they went and got some rooms at a hotel down the street.”

"Why are you still here then?"

She didn't mean for it to come out quite as harsh as it sounded to her ears.

"I didn't want to wake you just yet, so I figured I would hang around for a little bit. I guess I was hoping that he might be awake by now. I thought giving you the extra time to sleep might be enough, plus you look exhausted."

She felt exhausted. She'd barely slept since she'd arrived, and when she did sleep, it was only in small spurts, unable to get comfortable in that stupid tiny chair. The longest she'd managed was right before he got wheeled back for his emergency surgery.

"It is getting late though," Mary Margaret started back. "We should probably head to the hotel ourselves and get some rest. We can come back in the morning."

Emma's jaw dropped a little.

"Margs, I'm not leaving yet."

"Emma, when's the last time you really slept? And besides, wouldn't a bed be more comfortable?"

It would, but Emma thought her discomfort was a small cross to bear in comparison to everything Killian had been through.

"The chair really isn't that bad."

Her friend leveled her with a stare, the same one she often gave her students when the were being difficult.

"Emma, you're not good to anyone like this. Let's get some food and sleep. I bet Graham would appreciate spending some time with you. You've barely said two words to him since we got here this morning."

It was true. She'd been avoiding him as much as possible. She couldn't look at him, the guilt eating away at her. The guilt of having Graham there in Killian's hospital room. Of having Killian possibly waking up and the first person he saw being Graham. Of wondering if he’d be upset, or worse, if he wouldn’t even care having already moved on. Of knowing how much Graham cared for her and not being able to reciprocate in that moment. Knowing that if she went back to a hotel room she'd be forced to actually have a conversation with him. She didn't have the strength for any of it just yet.

"I can't leave him. I don't want him to wake up alone."

"Well then I'll stay and you go."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force her frustration back down.

"Please, Margs. Just go. I'm fine here, okay?"

Mary Margaret studied her for a moment, letting out a sigh, finally conceding. Before leaving, she wrote the name of the hotel on a pad of paper from the night stand. She promised to be by early in the morning with a change of clothes from her suitcase. They weren't exactly the same size, but having just won one battle, Emma knew better than to start another fight.

She waved her friend away and waited. She waited for what felt like forever. The sunlight outside faded completely before it was replaced by the harsh glow of street lights from the nearby parking lot. She waited as she listened to family members saying goodbye to the other patients. The changing of the late night show turning into an infomercial. She waited.

Another hospital staff member came in about an hour later to check his vital signs again, seemling unbothered by his still slumbering state. Emma smiled at him as he typed away in the computer he’d rolled in.

“I’m sure he knows you’re here. That he can hear you.”

His words had taken her off guard. She’d become so accustomed to the silence.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, there’s nothing to back it up, scientifically I mean, but I’ve been here for a while now and I’ve seen things. Patients that have loved ones talking to them tend to have better outcomes.”

“Oh, I’m not- I mean, we’re not.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

With a sad smile on his lips he left, not realizing that he’d left her heart imploding. She had been that once. A loved one. Then he’d left and found someone new. She was just a ghost to him now. The world’s shittiest ghost. The one dreaming about a man that had left her, crushed, while the world kindest man slept alone miles away. A man that loved her and deserved so much more than her traitorous heart could give.

“I, uh, I don’t know if you can really hear me or not. Hell, I don’t even know what to say. Not after all of this time.” Her voice caught and a lone tear fell down her cheek. “I guess I should tell you to fight. That’s what people do in these situations, right?”

That’s what they did in the movies at least. They listed off all of the things that they still had to live for. Loved ones and kids and life goals. But he didn’t have any of that anymore, not that she knew of. His brother was dead, his wife was dead, days had passed and no friends had come for him other than her family and boyfriend. For all she knew, he was alone in the world. Then again, she didn’t really know him, not anymore.

He was a stranger to her.

“Storybrooke hasn’t changed at all.”

Coward.

“Someone tried to bring in a Starbucks last year. The wanted to set up right across from Old Lady Lucas, but everyone rallied around Granny to keep them out of town. Went all the way up to the mayors off. And Grumpy got his one year sober chip about two months ago. None of us ever thought we see the day. What else? Oh, Ruby and Victor broke up. We had a girls trip to Vegas to cheer her up, and I guess it worked because she came back married to a woman. I walked in on them in the shower last week. Then they asked me to join them.”

It was a cheap shot but a small part of her hoped the idea of two women lathering each other up in a shower might be enough to peak his interest. That he might shoot up and give her some of that infamous innuendo he was so well known for.

Nothing though.

“Okay, well if that didn’t do it for you, I don’t know what will.”

She gave his hand a squeeze before standing up to stretch out her back. Mary Margaret was right, night after night in that tiny chair had really done a number on her spine. Soon she was going to have to admit defeat. If nothing else, just long enough to run to the hotel to clean up. The hospital staff had given her some washcloths and soap but there was no replacement for a hot shower.

Even as she excused herself, stepping into the bathroom to wash herself off one more time before calling it a night and settling in for another stretch of restless sleep, Emma felt guilty for wishing she was at home, in her own little apartment. Using her own shampoo and crawling into her own pajamas. She felt horrible for complaining to herself though. Not when Killian was about to have his entire life turned upside down. Assuming he ever actually woke up.

There was a very real possibility that it wouldn’t happen. She’d heard the doctor talking outside. Rounding as they called it. They’d said his head ct had come back clear, but she’d seen things. Heard horror stories from cops in surrounding counties about how one minute a guy seemed fine and the next he was gone. She knew that doctors weren’t perfect. They made mistakes. For God’s sake, they couldn’t even save his hand. They couldn’t save Milah either.

Milah. He didn’t even know. How was she supposed to tell the love of her life that the love of his was dead?

She turned on the water faucet and gave herself sixty seconds. One full minute to let herself fall apart. To let the tears fall and anger get the best of her. To let everything she’d been trying and failing to bottle up pour out.

When she was done, she turned the faucet off, letting her breathing calm. Looking in the mirror had been a mistake. Her face was puffy, eyes blotchy red. She was a mess. Plain and simple. Not that it mattered in the middle of the night when the only person around was fast asleep. In a coma, actually. Isn’t that what it was?

She had to fight off a new wave of tears thinking of it that way. She needed to shut her brain down before it got the best of her. If she kept up at the rate she was going, he’d be a ghost in her mind before she ever even left the bathroom.

Drying her face and trying her best to shake the thoughts from her mind, she opened the bathroom door and turned off the light. It was a struggle finding her way back to the chair, her eyes no longer used to the darkness in the room. She’d held her breath as she stubbed her toe on the foot of his hospital bed, not wanting to wake up other patients with her screams. It was fine, she didn’t really need that toe anymore anyway.

With the sting still running up her foot and leg, she grabbed the blanket she’d been using and curled back up into the chair. She’d only just found a position that didn’t make her want to die when she heard a voice in the dark.

“Who's Grumpy?”

[negasonicimagines]

How to Save a Life

request: so, um hi! i love your blog and i was wondering if you could write a yukiosonic x reader fic where the reader is a medium (like they can see/communicate with the dead) and like they hate it cause its scary so reader is like always jumpy and tired cause they cant sleep and yukio and ellie help them with that. if not thats cool but thanks

notes: I based the reader’s medium abilities on Klaus from The Umbrella Academy, because I got that sort of vibe (compared to Melissa Gordon from Ghost Whisperer) from how the reader was described in the request! Also, I’ve been dying to write something using How to Save a Life by The Fray, so I’m glad I finally got the opportunity. This is probably a lot angstier than you wanted, anon… Feel free to ask me for a redo.

warnings: attempted suicide, suicidal themes, allusions to Wade’s shitty childhood, etc. overall tw.

You jolt awake from a nightmare, a bus explosion that quite a few of the students here died in, apparently. You’re not sure whether or not you’re happy to see the moon in the sky outside.

There’s a girl hanging herself from the ceiling fan over your bed.

You sob.

“Shh, babe, it’s okay,” Ellie, who’s still awake and on her phone, tightens the grip of her arm around you as you hide your face in her chest, not wanting to look at him.

“I think we need a room transfer,” you whimper.

“We haven’t even finished unpacking from the last one…” Ellie reminds you.

“There’s a girl hanging from the ceiling fan above our bed,” you inform her, refusing to look at the ghost. You know that she’ll start to talk eventually, but pretending you don’t see them usually deters them.

“Christ,” she exhales. “I’m so sorry, babe.” Ellie runs her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp a bit as you weep.

Yukio had been spooning you, and, at your trembling, wakes up.

“Aw, honey, I’m so sorry,” she sleepily apologizes, nuzzling you gently and rubbing your back. “Everything’s alright, I promise we won’t let them hurt you.”

“Thank you,” you respond. Their touches soothe you, but you don’t fall asleep, even once they do. Her feet keep brushing over your leg as she sways with the draft that must’ve been occurring when she died.

The morning slowly comes, and she doesn’t fade away. Some do. You get up and go to the bathroom, completing your morning routine.

“Morning, Y/N,” she says, upon your return.

“Leave me alone, please,” you request.

“Don’t you want to know what drove me to this?” Her head is turned to the side and her body dangles limply from the rope. You ignore her, sickened.

You go to the nightstand next to the bed, averting your eyes. You unplug your phone, and upon lifting it up to look at it, coincidentally in the direction as her ghostly body, the hanging girl swings herself towards you with a loud shout.

You yelp, stumbling backwards and falling. She cackles at you.

“Y/N?” Ellie sleepily asks.

You don’t say anything, hoping she’ll fall back asleep, and open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out the knife Wade got you for your last birthday. You stand on the bed, sawing at the rope. She falls to the ground, crawling towards the corner of the room before standing.

“Come on. What’s your name? What do I gotta do to get you to leave me the hell alone? ‘Cause I’m one more of you away from hanging from a ceiling fan myself, pal.”

The girl looks surprised at your outburst.

“I- I don’t know. I’m gonna just…” She phases through the bedroom door. Adrenaline rushes inside of you. You didn’t often confront the apparitions, many of them made vengeful and corrupt by their prolonged time on this spiritual plane. You didn’t have the means to help them all move on, and many of them didn’t want to.

It’s draining.

Ellie whimpers.

“Babe?” You ask, turning back to the bed. She’s sitting up, on the edge.

“You- You wanna- You’re- You’re suicidal?” She asks, brows furrowed and eyes watery as she stares at her hands in her lap.

“I- Yeah. I am,” you confess. It hurts to say. “Things have been r-really hard for a really long time, and- And even though y-you and Y-Yukio’s support makes things a lot easier, and you both are s-so important to me… I- I can’t do this anymore,” you sob, hiding your face in your hands. Ellie cries too, but not before standing and embracing you.

“You can, Y/N. You can. We need you, too. You make things easier for us, too. Shh, baby… Shh…” She rubs your back as the two of you hug. “I hope you understand that I- I’m not gonna be able to leave you alone for a while.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. Suicide watch, again.

“I just- I thought you were doing better.” She pulls away from the embrace, wiping your tears and smiling sadly. “But you’re not.”

“It’s just easier to manage sometimes,” you remind her.

Yukio stirs in her sleep before her eyes flutter open.

“What’s goin’ on?” She asks you, sleepily.

“Nothing,” you lie. “Just a bad dream, that’s all.”

“Don’t lie to her, Y/N,” Ellie scolds.

“She just woke up,” you protest.

“What’s wrong?” Yukio insists.

“Y/N’s suicidal again,” Ellie informs her, and your other girlfriend sighs. They’re so tired… Of you.

“We’ve got a mission today,” Yukio reminds. “I can text Wade.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you argue, but Ellie just shakes her head.

“You said you’re one more asshole ghost away from killing yourself. And this school is full of ‘em. So, if assigning that living asshole to keep you from doing so is what it takes to keep you safe, then we’re doing it.”

You know better than to argue. Your girlfriends get dressed and ready, and the three of you go to breakfast, meeting Wade there. You don’t say much as they discuss the situation, a lump forming in your voice at how tired they sound. You’re a leech, you know, constantly draining their energy.

You remember how you used to make them so happy, and now you’re just a burden. You stress them out with your constant problems, never taking a break from being miserable and pathetic long enough to take care of them. You don’t touch your food, avoiding Wade’s trained eyes.

There’s a rather sad-looking woman sitting next to him. A cancer patient, bald and in a hospital gown. She’s still pretty though, a natural radiance exuding from her. You watch her watch him, no malice in her gaze whatsoever.

“My beautiful boy,” she says, a hand literally ghosting across his cheek.

“Oh,” you respond, eyes filling with tears. She looks to you in surprise.

“You can see me?”

“Of course I can. I see dead people. Kind of my thing,” you tell the woman. Apparently, she wasn’t aware of you.

“I- I can’t stay for very long. I’m supposed to have passed on, but… I have to watch over him, keep him safe. I keep slipping in and out of this plane. It’s my time.” No wonder you hadn’t encountered each other yet.

“I- I could watch him for you,” you offer quietly. Wade observes your conversation, but doesn’t say anything because you don’t appear to be in too much distress.

“Would you?” the woman asks.

“Sure. Wade and I are friends, sort of.”

“We are!”  Wade insists. You and the woman smile.

“I’m Hailey,” she introduces herself.

“I’m Y/N,” you offer her your hand to shake. She tentatively reaches out, and, finding that she can touch you, is ecstatic. She goes to hug Wade, but slips through. “You can touch me because I’m a medium. But, if there’s anything you want me to say…” You sigh. “I don’t know if he’d believe me.”

“I doubt he would,” Hailey admits. “But- But can I have a little bit more time? Just one more day?”

You nod.

“Wade, listen, I’m fine. I will text you every hour on the hour. I just… Need some time alone, okay? I feel awful about making Yukio and Ellie worry so much, and I want to do something special for them.”

“Yeah, if you explain to me what that all was about. Is it… Is it Vanessa?”

You look to his mother, sighing.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He doesn’t push it, and you go back to your room.

You set up a blanket fort over the bed, hanging yarn from wall to wall to support the sheets, putting a white one at the foot of the bed and finding the novelty phone projector you’d gotten Ellie for her last birthday, so that you all can watch something on Netflix together.

You lay out fluffy PJ’s (a set each of you owned in different colors) for them both to change into, knowing they’d probably want to after a long day.

Then, you go to the kitchen, making cookies for them. Sugar for Ellie, chocolate chip for Yukio.

After they cool, you put them on a plate and wrap it with saran wrap so they’ll retain some of their heat until Ellie and Yukio get back. You take the treats back to your dorm, going to the bathroom and freshening up before changing into your own set of PJ’s.

You texted Wade throughout the hours it took to prepare, informing him of your feats. You were endlessly taunted and stalked by the spirits that loved to torment you, the entire time, but you insisted upon doing it yourself, and alone.

They arrive home in the early evening.

“Honey, you were supposed to rest today,” Ellie scolds, but hugs you, lifting you off the ground a bit with excitement. When she lets you go, you speak.

“Well, I wanted to do something nice for you guys. I know that you both do a lot for me, and that this doesn’t make it all up, but I wanted to start. I need to take care of my babes, too, not just the other way around.”

Yukio shakes her head, but kisses you on the cheek, giving you a one armed hug. They both change into their PJ’s, you unwrap the cookies, and they get on the bed, hidden in the fort.

You enter the fort, placing the plate on the bed behind the projector.

Ellie and Yukio squeeze you between them, both “holders” while you’re more of a “hold-ee,” in terms of cuddling. They share you like you’re giant stuffed animal as you three munch on cookies and watch various things on YouTube and Netflix.

Every time you feel yourself nodding off, you jolt, not wanting to be the first to sleep. Wanting to watch over them, to make sure they rest.

Eventually, they fall asleep, and you take the phone out of the projector and plug it up to charge. You put the toy away, and keep an eye on them. They both look so tired, even asleep.

You realize what you have to do.

You write the letter in your notebook, tears blurring your vision as you do. You love them so much. You tear the page out, taping it to the door and leaving.

You climb up the stairs until you make it to the roof of the school. There’s a garden up there, but you don’t even stop to admire it.

The cool air of the night is relief against your wet, burning cheeks as sobs escape your throat. You approach the edge, looking down nervously.

You hear a clang against the rock of the ledge behind you, and turn. It’s a grappling hook.

“Wait, wait!” Wade calls. “I’m a bit out of practice with this. Whew!”

As he climbs up, you know it’s now or never. If Wade gets up there, he can stop you for sure.

It’s gonna hurt, you’re aware, staring over the edge once more. You’re not sure if you should step off or jump. Stepping off is a little easier, but it doesn’t put you at a far enough distance from the building.

You decide to dive, but Wade grabs your arm before you can complete the action.

“She was- My mom was-“ his breathing is shaky, and you continue to cry, hiding your face in your unrestricted hand. He takes you in his arms. “She was in my dream tonight. She told me to stop you, and then she said good- Good- Goodbye… You promised her you’d watch me.”

“I’m nothing but a burden to everyone I care about, Wade,” you tell him. Like it isn’t obvious. “They’re so tired of me. I’m so tired of me, of this horrible curse that everyone calls a goddamn gift.”

You both shake and cry, and you know he’s not letting go of you anytime soon.

“You are not a burden, Y/N.”

“I used to make them so happy… And now they’re just exhausted, all the time. No matter what I do to show my appreciation, I know that nothing will ever be enough because they’re what’s keeping me alive,” you insist.

“Then why are you up here?” Wade asks. You just shake your head.

“I need to free them.”

“They can make that decision for themselves. If they didn’t love you they wouldn’t be with you,” he attempts to convince you.

“They just don’t want blood on their hands,” you disagree, and he holds you tighter.

“That’s not true, Y/N… That’s not true,” Wade repeats it over and over again as you cry in his arms, the tears and the listening and the five other (dead) people on the roof wearing you out.

“I- I can’t go back to that dorm right now,” you tell him. “I don’t want to wake them up, for them to- To miss out on more sleep because of me.”

“You can hang out in my room,” he reassures. “I’ve got a small couch you can sleep on, if you manage to sleep.”

You nod, and he leads you down the stairs. A spirit appears. An old man with cruel blue eyes and a cigar in his mouth. His army garb, Canadian, lists his name: Wilson.

You’d heard enough about Thomas Wilson to know he was bad news. He must know Hailey is gone. Who knows how long he’s been watching, waiting? You’re disgusted, and you deck the spectral piece of shit in the face.

“Leave him the hell alone!” You demand, and the creep narrows his eyes at you, rising up from the ground and shoving you backwards. You fight back, taking out all your anger and hatred of your abilities on someone you knew deserved it.

At the end of it, the bastard flees, and you’re left with bruised knuckles and a stunned Wade Wilson.

“Who was that, Y/N?” He asks.

“Your parents are quite attached to you, Wade. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be keeping my eye on you, like I promised.”

As the two of you proceed to his dorm, you explain: “Spirits can drain people. Hence why I’m such a mess all the time. I’m a medium, the rules that apply to normal humans don’t apply to me. If a spirit has a place in your heart and is trapped on Earth, they can take energy from you.

“Other than mediums, though, kind, good people are often preyed upon because they have a place in their heart for everything. Since your mother and father have places in your heart, they were able to latch onto you and keep their place in this plane. Your mother didn’t take much, which is why she was slipping in and out of the afterlife. But Thomas… He packed quite a punch, even if he was waiting in the wings prior to Hailey’s passing on. You should start feeling a lot better soon.”

“You really are something special, Y/N L/N,”  is all Wade says in response. You make it to his room and he flops onto the bed.

It’s nearly three AM, you realize upon looking at the digital clock on his nightstand. You curl up under a throw blanket on the love seat, sleeping a lot more soundly after crying, after standing up for yourself and Wade.

There’s a banging on the door. You ignore it, hiding from the sunlight under your blanket.

You hear Wade get up and stumble to the door.

“They- They’re-“ Ellie sobs, and you remember that you never retrieved the note. You also hear Yukio’s wails, both of them crying heavily. Were they really so upset you were gone?

You hear the crinkling of paper, and Wade mutter “Shit.” He walks over to you. “Kid, wake up. We didn’t think to get the damn note.”

You remove the blanket from over you, standing up, and your girlfriends cry harder, now with relief.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize weakly. They shake their heads, and Wade gestures with your head for you to go to them. The three of you embrace.

“Don’t- Why- I-“ Yukio doesn’t know how to start, still sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I’m so sorry.”

“We should’ve- We should’ve known you would feel-“ Ellie attempts, but neither of them can stop crying long enough to piece together their words.

Eventually, though, they manage to steady their breathing.

Ellie holds your face in her hands, a devastated expression still on her face.

“You are not a burden, Y/N. You are my best friend. You are caring, and smart, and funny, and beautiful. I never want to lose you. Never ever.” She kisses your forehead deeply, before releasing you.

Yukio wraps you in a tight individual hug.

“I’m never letting you go,” she whimpers, before quietly continuing: “Never ever. Ellie and I are happy to help you. You deserve to be loved, to be supported. And we both know that you love and support us back, in every way you can. We’re in a relationship, not working on a group project. Being kind to yourself if one of the best ways you can show your love for us.”

You sniffle as she lets you go, and look to Wade.

“I’m sorry,” you say to him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Wade embraces you in the same fashion as Yukio, though due to height he just smushes your face into his chest.

“Don’t thank me. Thank…” He gets choked up. “You know. And thank you.” Wade releases you, holding your hands after and inspecting your knuckles. “I won’t forget this.”

“Neither will I,” you respond, looking back into his eyes. You two now have an understanding.

He lets go of your hands. You look to your girlfriends.

“Let’s go home, honey,” Yukio suggests, and you nod tiredly. You’d only gotten four hours of fitful sleep. Your girls take your hands and lead you to the room.

The fort, the room is in shambles, still smoldering.

“Christ,” you breathe, shocked at the mess.

“The news that you were dead didn’t quite go over well,” Ellie remarks, sounding rather desolate. Her tone is that of tiredness.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again.

“It’s- It’s fine. As long as you’re doing better, as long as you’ll let us help you get better-”

“What if I’m never better? What if I’m just another ghost, sucking away the energy of good people to maintain my place here?” you lament, sniffling.

“Baby, it’s not like that, I promise,” Yukio attempts to reassure you. “We love you so much, and no sacrifice is too great-”

“You shouldn’t be making sacrifices for me! I’m worthless!” You shriek, finally truly snapping, at least verbally. “I am nothing! All I ever do is take, and take, and take, and I give nothing back except for pain and misery and exhaustion.”

“Nothing at all? Not cuddles, not music recommendations, not a confidant, not a pillow fort and cookies after a long day? Not reassurance? Not a sense of fulfillment? Nothing? Not even love?” Ellie storms off to the closet, bringing out an old Converse shoe box. She opens it, tips it over, and various little things come out. Scraps of paper, movie tickets, gum wrappers, a couple tubes of lip balm, and more.

“What is all that, Ellie?” you wonder.

“It’s something I’ve been keeping since our first date. You’ve caught me, okay? I’m a sentimental bastard. But thank god I am, so I can show you just how fucking wrong you are,” she explains. You don’t respond, and she continues: “Movie tickets to Fifty Shades of Grey, our first date. You bought those, even though I didn’t want you to. We were planning to go as friends to take the piss out of it, but I finally grew a pair and made it a date. We still mocked it to no end, but I finally fucking kissed you after. Finally.

“You gave me this piece of gum in Geometry right before the midterms. Your last piece of Extra gum, Rainbow Sherbet-flavored, before you were gonna be able to go into town that Friday. For luck, you said. And I actually fucking passed it.

“A birthday card. You were the only one who remembered my birthday, and- And-” Ellie’s smiling, and so are you, but your eyes, hers, and Yukio’s are overflowing with tears. “I don’t understand why you can’t believe that I love you. That we love you. You’ve done so much, for both of us. Yes, we support you. But what kind of partners, what kind of human beings would we be if we didn’t? And you support us in return.”

“I- I guess… I guess you’re right,” you acknowledge. You really hadn’t thought of yourself, your efforts, as equal to hers and Yukio’s.

“I don’t have a shoe box, but I promise that I treasure you, too,” Yukio says, hugging you from behind. “Let’s clean up this room,” she suggests. You nod, and the three of you get started. Dismantling what’s left of the fort, moving a rug to cover the scorch marks in the carpet, and the like.

At the end of it all, you three snuggle in bed, both of them holding you. You’re in between them as they both lay on their sides, arms around you and (partially) each other. You’re warm, safe.

“I love you both so much. I’m so sorry that I almost abandoned you.”

“We’re just glad that you’re okay, sweetheart,” Yukio replies, squeezing you a little tighter.

“We really are. Please, please tell us if you start to feel that way again. I’d be glad to go through the box with you.”

“Maybe we could get a notebook or a journal to catalogue all the items. We could pass it on to, I don’t know, someone. Maybe publish it,” Yukio suggests, and Ellie nods.

“That’d be pretty cool,” Ellie responds. ���What would it be titled, you think?”

“Ingredients of Love? Nah, too cheesy. Y/N?” Yukio asks, but you don’t respond. You’ve drifted off to dreamland, in the security of their arms, knowing that they love you and that they’ll always keep you safe.

[hollandtomholland]

About Last Night - T.H.

A/N: It’s been a while! This is my offering to @madmadmilk‘s 5K celebration (you can find the masterlist here, there are so many good fics here by some great writers and you should definitely check it out!), based on the prompt “would it kill you to put a shirt on”. 

Warnings: Language, drinking

Words: 7K (I’m so sorry if the read more doesn’t work)

Summary: When your ex-roommate Tom suggested a party for old time’s sake you had your hesitations, and now you’re left with a trashed house and no memory of what went on last night. Tom’s strange behavior suggests that you’ve forgotten something big, but he’s not telling; what exactly did you do? 

This isn’t your bed.

This isn’t a bed at all.

Your eyes snap open as the realisation hits you, hands gripping the sides of the sun lounger that you appear to have spent the night on. Not only are you not in a bed, you’re not even in a bedroom; you’re outside.

Disorientated, you raise your pounding head to get a better look. Your first thought is a reassuring one – at least you know where you are. The garden you’ve awoken in belongs to your godmother, a wealthy woman who you’ve been housesitting for this past week. This is the first time she’s decided to trust you with the responsibility, and looking around, you realise that it might well be the last.

The lawn is littered with plastic cups, interspersed with the occasional beer bottle glinting in the sunlight. Someone’s t-shirt is strewn across a rose bush, and a lone flip flop floats idly across the vast swimming pool. You’re in a similarly unkempt state yourself, still in last night’s clothes with the taste of stale alcohol on your breath. There’s a fuzzy blackspot where your memories should be, but the evidence speaks for itself. There was a party here last night, and you know exactly who’s idea it was.

Thomas fucking Holland.

You muster up all the strength you have in your hangover-weakened body and stumble to your feet, flinging off the jacket that you don’t remember covering yourself with. It’s one of Tom’s, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air as you scowl at the offending article. “Ohh, I’m gonna kill him” you whisper to yourself, before turning on your heel and marching into the open French doors.

If it were at all possible, the house is in an even worse state than the garden. Empty cans and glasses litter every surface, the bins overflowing onto the floor. You step over a crushed pizza box as you venture through the living room, grateful at least for the lack of partygoers overstaying their welcome. The only person you want to see should be around here somewhere, and you feel a rush of vindictive adrenalin as you finally spot his familiar form sprawled out on the sofa.

He’s fast asleep, one arm tucked behind his head as the other clutches a cushion to his bare chest. His hair is tousled with sleep, the curls artfully messy as a serene smile lights up his face.

Oh, that face.

Even amidst your anger you have to admit that Tom is incredibly lovely to look at, though you’d never admit that to him. He was confident, charismatic, smart, and of course, cheeky, a potent combination that charmed everyone he met – especially the girls. It had worked on you at first, when you’d met him five years ago. You’d answered an ad looking for a roommate, and ended up sharing an apartment with the man himself a week later. Though he seemed too good to be true at first, spending more time with him than anyone else was a good antidote to his charms; people come off their pedestal pretty quickly when you’re intimately familiar with their questionable habits.

What you ended up with, though, was a best friend who was always there for you when you needed him. Feeling under the weather? Tom knew exactly which brand of ice cream could make it all better. Tough day at work? He had your favourite movie queued up before you even stepped through the door. It worked both ways too, with you supporting him through the ups and downs of his career. Living together had come very naturally, and you aren’t afraid to admit that it had been rough when he’d moved out of town three months ago. Even now, you really miss that cheeky smile every time you come home.

What you don’t miss, however, is his infuriating habit of turning your old apartment into a raging party at a moment’s notice. Tom is a deeply sociable guy, which you appreciate, but you never appreciated the industrial cleaning operation the next day. This had been one of your objections when, on being told about your housesitting job, Tom had insisted on throwing a party for old time’s sake. In your hungover haze you’re not sure exactly what compelled you to agree, but then again, Tom always knew how to get you onside.

“Come on, sweetheart, look at this place. It was built for parties, and not throwing one would be a tragic waste of its potential”

Tom glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, undeterred by your disdainful stare. You should’ve known better than to invite him here, of course he’d take one look at the place and have one thing only on his mind. It had been weeks since you’d seen him, though, and all you wanted was a good night in with your best friend. “I’ve already said no, Tom, please stop asking. I was thinking more along the lines of takeout and a movie, but if you have better things to do I won’t force you”

“Oh, darling,” he began, making his way over to you, “I can think of no better way to spend my time than with you. I’ve missed you, you know that, and I can’t help it if I get a little over excited at the prospect of a whole twenty four hours with my best girl!”

Ah, that classic Holland charm. You were used to it, but not fully immune to it even after all this time. He settled on the sofa next to you, fixing you with intense eye contact and an earnest smile. “I just want to make this the best twenty four hours I possibly can. It’ll be just like old times. A few friends, a few drinks, and a lot of good music – trust me, Y/N, it’ll be worth it”

No matter how good the party was – and you really don’t remember – it can’t have been worth the stress this morning was now bringing you.

Tom sighs in his sleep, hugging the cushion tighter to his chest. He looks so serene, so innocent, and you’d almost find it adorable were you not so furious with him. You stride over to him, shaking his shoulder vigorously. “Tom, wake up!”

A sleepy groan escapes from his lips, and he snuggles deeper into the sofa. “No, s’too early” he mumbles, brow furrowing as he turns his head away from you.

“I’m serious, don’t you dare go back to sleep” you hiss, fighting your nausea as you lean over him. His nose wrinkles in annoyance, but he slowly turns to face you with a deep sigh. His eyes blink open to look at you, and the scowl softens into a smile.

“Mornin’, sunshine” he murmurs, gazing sleepily at you. “Sleep well?”

“Don’t you ‘sunshine’ me,” you object, “and I most certainly fucking didn’t. Not having such a great morning either”

His smile drops instantly, a brief flash of surprise crossing his face. “What’s up, darling?”

You narrow your eyes at him, spreading your arms to gesture around the room. “Have you seen the state of this house? This is why I didn’t want your dumb party in the first place”

Tom flinches slightly at your remark, a frown creasing his brow. He props himself up on his elbows to get a better look, but after a quick glance around the room he simply shrugs. “It’s not that bad. Trust me, I’ve seen worse” he says wryly, kicking at a stray can by his feet.

His nonchalance at the situation infuriates you. If this was his house, or even your own, it wouldn’t be such a big deal. But your godmother’s house? It’s a different story entirely. She keeps the place immaculate at all times, taking great care in the upkeep of her expensive furniture and manicured gardens. You’ve rarely seen even the tiniest speck of dust anywhere, and so the chaos that confronts you now is more than a little bit distressing. It’s hard to suppress the panic that threatens to bubble up in your chest.

“Not that bad? Tom, this is a nightmare” you fret, glancing up at the clock above the mantelpiece – ten AM. “Jesus fuck, I only have three hours before she gets back!”

In a burst of frantic energy, you begin collecting as much trash as you can possibly carry. “She trusted me and I’ve fucked up, I’ve majorly fucked up”

Trash spills out of your arms as you lean down to pick up a bottle, which only exacerbates your agitation. You’re screwed, you’re so so screwed. “I’m never gonna get it clean in time, she’s gonna kill me!” you exclaim, before a firm hand on your arm stops you in your tracks.

“Alright, Y/N, just hang on a for a moment”

Tom spins you round to face him, placing his hands on your shoulders in a gesture that’s oddly reassuring. His eyes scan your face, a tinge of concern reflected in them. “Look, I get why you’re stressed, and I’m sorry I tried to brush it off, but it’s honestly not that big of a deal. Three hours is plenty of time if we work together, we’ve done it before. It’ll be just like old times”

You roll your eyes, but relax a little under his touch. “Just like old times is what got us into this mess, Tom, so it had better be able to get us out”

“You remember the drill. Two cups of tea, radio on, no panicking. I’ll take the kitchen, you take the living room, and then we’ll tackle the garden together” he says confidently, unintimidated by the sea of trash that surrounds you.

“Okay, I guess that’s doable. I’ll get the kettle on then”

Twenty minutes later you’re getting stuck into the task, armed with a roll of black sacks and cleaning spray. The house may be ten times as big as your old apartment, but your well-honed routine is just as effective as it’s always been. You can’t help but smile as the sound of Tom’s singing floats in from the other room, his voice still slightly raspy from sleep. No matter how big a party is, Tom is always cheery and animated the morning after. His constant positivity is one of the things you like the most about him, and it’s comforting to have it with you right now.

“I meant to ask,” you call, “how come nobody stayed over?”

It had been strange, waking up to find the place near deserted. Usually you get at least a handful of hangers on the morning after, but this time it seems that everyone has cleared out. Tom pokes his head out of the kitchen, cup of tea in hand. “I sent them all home last night, after you fell asleep”

“How late was that?”

“Around one am, maybe?” he says, taking a sip from his mug.

One am? That’s pretty early by Tom’s standards. His parties were known to go on until sunrise, though you rarely made it to that point. It seems strange that he’d called it a night so prematurely, especially since he’d been so keen for the party in the first place. “Really? You didn’t want to keep things going?” you ask, and he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Not really. Didn’t really feel like it once you were out for the count”

He ducks back into the kitchen after that comment, putting an end to your line of questioning. You’re left staring at the doorway for a moment, thinking it over. No way would the Tom you’d lived with end a party just because you’d called it a night, so what’s different now? Is there something he’s not telling you? Still, it doesn’t seem like he’s willing to elaborate any further, so you return to your cleaning duties in silence.

A full half hour later, Tom emerges from the kitchen. He steps into the living room with a wide grin on his face, surveying the now immaculate space. “See, I told you we could do it. Looks like you’re feeling better too” he remarks, straightening the coffee table with a nudge of his foot before flopping down onto the sofa.

“Much better. Not looking forward to tackling the garden though. Any idea how to clean a pool?”

He laughs, glancing out of the French doors and then back at you. “Not at all, but we’ll improvise”

There’s a pause as he holds eye contact for a moment, his expression unreadable. You barely have time to work it out before he glances downwards, turning his face away from you. “Must admit, I was a little worried about you earlier” he says, fiddling with the tasselled edge of a cushion. “I hate seeing you like that”

The confident, cheeky Tom you know so well is suddenly replaced by a quieter, more sensitive version that you haven’t seen in a long time. It’s the same Tom that used to come out when you were ill or having a rough day, but never stuck around for very long. He rarely opens up or gets emotional unless he’s really pushed, and you can’t remember a time when he’s been upfront about his feelings. He’s the type to brush things off with casual humour, never getting down to the heart of a matter. You’ve learned not to press him any further than he’s willing to go himself, and so his sudden change of tone is an unexpected opportunity to dig deeper.

“Seeing me like what?”

“Stressed. Angry at yourself. Blaming yourself” he says, running a hand through his hair. He’s still facing away from you, and you’re certain it’s deliberate – it’s almost as if looking at you would be too much for him. You decide to act casual and busy yourself by dusting the mantelpiece, hoping to stretch this moment out for as long as possible.

“Looking after this place is a big deal, I think it was a pretty normal reaction to waking up and finding it trashed” you reply, your back turned to him. You’re testing him, seeing how far he’s willing to take this sudden vulnerability. Out of the corner of your eye you see him snap round to face you, one hand gripping the armrest.

“But it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?” he insists, a pleading edge creeping into his voice. This is truly bothering him, you realise, though you’re not quite sure why.

“I mean, it was my fault for agreeing to the party when I knew this would happen” you tell him, risking a glance over your shoulder. His gaze is fixed onto you, his eyes dark and intense. Genuine concern is written all over his face, but it’s gone the second your eyes meet his.

“Psshh, no way am I letting you take the credit for this!” he smirks, and suddenly confident Tom is back in control. He kicks his feet up on the coffee table, reclining with his hands behind his head. “That party was my success, full credit is mine”

“Well take some responsibility for the aftermath of your ‘success’ and help me clear the garden” you shoot back, gesturing for him to follow you outside.

He offers you a sarcastic salute and a mumbled “Yes sir”, before getting to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. He’s standing directly in a sunbeam, and the muscles on his chest and arms are neatly defined in the soft light.

Ohh, that’s a weird thing for you to notice.

But clearly he’s been working out a lot lately, and you have to admit that he’s looking incredibly good standing there, all tanned and muscular and…

Yep, very weird.

Come on, Y/N. Who cares if he’s working out or not, you’re not supposed to notice things like that about your best friend. Still, it’s more of a distraction than you’d like it to be. You push the unwelcome thoughts deep down and glance at him over your shoulder, trying to fix your gaze on his face rather than the region below it. “And would it kill you to put a shirt on?” you sigh, tucking a roll of black sacks under your arm before stepping outside. “No one needs to see… all of that”.

The eyeroll you follow it with is probably overkill, but if it is Tom doesn’t catch on. “Please, you love it really” he smirks, following close behind. “Besides, my shirt is currently awol”

“Why did you take it off?” you ask, handing him a black sack and getting straight to work.

“I didn’t, darling” he says casually, with a sideways glance. “You did”

You freeze. Is Tom really suggesting that you… no, he’s definitely messing with you, that would never happen. Still, last night is little more than a few hazy images in your mind, and the hangover suggests that you had a few too many so… Oh god, what exactly have you forgotten?

He’s watching you patiently, one eyebrow raised as he studies your reaction. His calmness hopefully means that whatever you did wasn’t too bad, so you flash him a smile and get stuck in to cleaning up. “Good one, Tom” you scoff, “But I highly doubt that.”

“Do you not… hang on, do you actually remember last night?” he asks.

“Not really. I remember agreeing to the party, and there’s a few flashes of something here and there, but it’s pretty much a blackspot”

Tom stares at you for a moment, the same unreadable expression from earlier on his face. “That explains a lot” he mumbles, before returning to throwing trash in his sack.

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’d just forgotten you were so much of a lightweight” he teases.

“Yeah, very funny. So where is your shirt, exactly?”

“Like I told you, darling, I wasn’t the one who took it off.”

This is a blackspot you really need to remember. “You’re gonna need to remind me what happened, Tom, cause I’m super confused right now. You’re telling me I took your shirt off? Why would I do that?”

“You were begging me to come swimming with you, and I guess you were trying to get me ready. It was kinda funny, watching you trying to undo all those buttons whilst barely managing to stay upright” he laughs, pitching an empty can at your head. You catch it skilfully, tossing it into your sack and eyeing him warily.

“Jesus, how much did I have to drink last night?”

“More than you usually do. You were all like ‘ohh, Tom, pleeeease,” he mimics, swaying comically. “Come swiiiim with me!”

“Come on, Tom! I wanna go swimming!” you coo, gripping the sides of his open shirt with both hands. The ground is spinning beneath your feet, and you stumble a little as you struggle to remain standing. Tom catches you, though. Of course he does. He’s so reliable, isn’t he? And so sturdy. Yes, you think, patting his bare chest, sturdy is the right word. His body is firm under your touch, and you smile to yourself as you lean into him.

“I really don’t think swimming is a good idea, sweetheart. Not in your state, anyway” he says, walking you backwards and away from the pool’s edge.

“But it’ll be so much fun! Let’s get this off you, can’t go swimming in your clothes Tommy boy!” you exclaim, before pushing the garment over his shoulders and flinging it away from you. There’s a rustle as it lands in a hedge a few metres away, but you’re not interested in that. “See? Now we can go!”

“No, you’re not going swimming” he says firmly, still moving you backwards. “You’re gonna sit down over here, okay”

The backs of your calves hit the edge of a sun lounger, and he gently manoeuvres you into a sitting position. His hands rest on your shoulders, warmth seeping through your clothes to your skin. You blink up at him, his face blurring at the edges. If you really focus, you can see the gentle smile on his lips as he gazes down at you, those deep brown eyes like pools of molten chocolate. He looks so good in moonlight, doesn’t he? He looks good all the time.

One hand comes up to brush some hair out of your face, tucking it neatly behind your ear. It feels good to have him so close, so reassuring.  His hand lingers on your cheek, his touch both unfamiliar and yet incredibly natural…

The sound of glass hitting concrete snaps you back into the present, and you struggle to repress the heat currently rushing to your cheeks. Tom nods towards the empty glass by your feet, which you must’ve kicked over. “I went to get you some water but in the two minutes I was gone, you’d managed to fall asleep”

So that explains your unconventional sleeping arrangements.  Still, the fact that Tom seems to be avoiding your eyes tells you that there’s definitely something more to the story. “Why didn’t you make me go to bed? I’m damn lucky it didn’t rain last night”

“You looked so peaceful, it seemed a shame to wake you. And I made sure I was nearby anyway, in case you needed anything” he explains, pushing himself to feet.

You’d just assumed that he’d passed out on the sofa by accident; it hadn’t occurred to you that it was a calculated choice. Tom had chosen to forgo the lavish guest room in order to keep an eye on you, sacrificing his comfort for your benefit. “Oh. Thanks” you mumble, as he wanders away from you to continue clearing up. Again, it seems that he’s done talking.

The two of you resume your routine in silence, filling up sack after sack with party debris. You’re examining the pool situation when a shout from the side of the garden gets your attention, and you look up to see Tom waving his shirt above his head. “Found it!” he calls, jogging over to meet you. “Still want me to cover up… all this?”

“Do what you want” you reply, ignoring him as runs his hands over his bare chest with a suggestive grin.

“As you wish” he beams. With a flick of his wrist he drapes his shirt over a lawn chair, before beginning to unbutton his jeans.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” you gasp.

Tom doesn’t bat an eyelid, pushing his jeans over his hips and down to the ground. “In the absence of a pool skimmer, darling, the only way to get the trash out of the pool is to get in it myself” he says, kicking his clothing to one side. You can’t argue with his logic, but still – the sight of him standing before you, hands on his hips, in only his underwear is a little alarming. He’d walked around the flat like this many times when you’d lived together, and you’d forgotten how brazen he could be. He had nothing to be ashamed about, certainly.

“Okay, I guess that’s a good idea” you affirm, trying to look anywhere else but at him.

“You stand here and grab the things I throw out, we’ll be done in no time” he says, before diving headlong into the pool. He emerges from the water seconds later, posing like a model in a men’s cologne ad. His hair is dripping wet, and he pushes it back from his forehead with one hand. “Let’s get to work!” he chuckles, before tossing a crumpled plastic cup in your direction.

The chore quickly becomes a game, with you forming a moving target for Tom to hit as you dash around the poolside. When you’re having this much fun, it’s easy to forget just how stressed you were earlier. Tom’s always been good at getting you out of your own head, and by this point you’re more curious than mad about last night.

“What did you mean earlier,” you begin, as Tom climbs out of the pool, “When you said you didn’t really feel like continuing the party after I feel asleep?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. It was our party, and you needed some rest, and… I don’t know” he says noncommittally, shaking the water out of his hair.

“But you’ve never cared about that stuff before. Why let me ruin your fun this time?”

“You didn’t ruin my fun” he grimaces, glancing sideways at you. His tone has an edge to it, and you’re surprised at how quickly his defences have gone up. “Maybe I was tired too”

“Were you?”

“It doesn’t…”

He stops himself, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand. “Do you really not remember anything from last night” he asks, which only confirms the fact that you’ve definitely forgotten something big.

“Is there something I should remember?” you shoot back.

He stares at you in silence, his brow creased in a frown. There’s an intensity to his gaze that speaks of hope, searching your face for something he’s clearly not finding. He glances down at the floor, breaking the tension you hadn’t realised had built up between you. “No. I’m gonna go upstairs and get changed, okay” he says, his voice measured but tinged with despondency. “I’ll check the bedrooms while I’m up there, but I think we’re done”

He walks away with his shirt slung over his shoulder, and you watch as he steps inside the house and out of view.

God, you wish you could remember last night.

Maybe then you’d know why Tom was behaving so strangely. Come on, think. Could you have said or done something to piss him off? You wander over to the sun loungers, hoping that a specific location will help rejog your memory like it did earlier. It’s hard seeing Tom so bothered about something. He’s always so blasé about his feelings, the only time you ever see him like this is when he’s wallowing over a girl.

She has her hand on his arm, leg pressed against his as she laughs at something he’s said. He’s not that funny, you think bitterly, watching as she throws her head back in hysterics. You’ve seen girls draping themselves over him in this fashion many a time, but for some reason this particular one is making you very uncomfortable.

It’s probably just because you’re not used to it happening here, you tell yourself. You’re not used to random girls invading a place you used to play in as a child and throwing themselves at your best friend. What’s her name, anyway? You don’t remember.

Around you, the party is in full swing. Friends and strangers alike fill the house and spill out onto the patio, clearly enjoying themselves a lot more than you are. It’s hard to have fun when all you can think about is how difficult it is to get red wine stains out of a cream carpet.

Maybe you’d loosen up a little bit if you upped your alcohol intake, you think, regarding the empty wine glass in your hand. Right on cue, a guy you vaguely know passes by, wielding a bottle of prosecco above his head. You’re certain it’s one from your godmother’s secret stash, but at this point you’d rather not think about it. “Top up?” he asks, and you nod as as he fills your glass with the sparkling liquid.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the girl running a hand through Tom’s curls. You look back at prosecco guy with a grim smile. “Keep it coming”.

Girl problems – of course.

Clearly you’d done something embarrassing to scare her off, and that’s why he’s mad at you. She’d probably seen you taking his shirt off and left in disgust, and he ended the party because he didn’t see the point without her.

Still, that memory has left you with a sense of something very uncomfortable that you can’t shake. The image of her draped over his lap doesn’t sit well with you, just like it didn’t last night. What’s with you today? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that little pang of discomfort in your chest is the product of jealousy.

Which of course is a ridiculous idea.

Why would you be jealous of a random girl? Tom doesn’t belong to you. He’s just your ex-roommate, and your best friend, a guy who you know better than anyone and who you’ve really, really missed lately…

Ohh, fuck.

Jealousy it is then.

It’s certainly not a good feeling, and it’s not one you’re prepared to experience. You wrap your arms around yourself as you consider the situation, suddenly rather cold despite the midday sun.

Then again, you think, it’s not like the signs weren’t there. You’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, but you’d just thought it was because after five years of living with him, it’s hard not seeing him all the time. It seemed natural to miss him, and you know what they say about absence and the heart… but maybe you’ve grown a little fonder than you’ve let yourself realise.

When Tom had suggested a house party instead of a quiet evening in, you’d thought your main objection was the inevitable mess you’d be left with. You know now that you were wrong. The idea of the house being filled with other people wasn’t one you liked, because all you’d wanted was to be alone with Tom. And when that girl had cosied up to him, it hurt. You’d turned to prosecco rather than face up to the emotional turmoil you’d rather not experience.

Well, you were certainly experiencing it now.

But that doesn’t matter. Whatever you’re feeling – and you’re certainly not giving it a name – it’s overshadowed by the fact that you messed up an opportunity for Tom last night. As his best friend first and foremost, it’s your duty to put his feelings above yours and make the situation right. After all, you’ve managed to get over him before. Like every other girl you’d fallen head over heels for him the first time you met, but you’d been able to move past that and settle for ‘just friends’; why fuck things up now by going backwards?

Composing yourself, you step inside the house and sit on the sofa to await Tom’s return. A few minutes later you hear his footsteps on the stairs, and look over to see him enter the room. He’s finally wearing a shirt, albeit unbuttoned, and he smiles when he notices you.

That wonderful, heart stopping smile.

No, none of that. Play it cool.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says with a grin, “But I used your hairdryer to blow dry my boxers”. He wiggles his hips in a little dance, winking at you over his shoulder. “Nice and warm”.

“Oh, lovely” you nod, reassured to see that his usual cheekiness has returned.

He dances his way into the kitchen, calling out “Cup of tea?” as he disappears from view.

“I’d love one, thanks”.

You let a few seconds pass as you think about your next move. The last thing you want is to leave things on a weird note, regardless of your feelings, so you’d best make things right before he goes home.

“I can call her for you, if you’d like” you begin, although the very idea isn’t one you enjoy.

“Call who?” he replies, leaning out of the kitchen to frown at you. “What are you on about?”

“The girl from last night. The one you were getting all cosy with”

You expect more of a reaction from him than the eyebrow raise you get.

“Why would I want you to do that?”

“To make things right with her. Isn’t that why you’re mad at me? Cause I fucked things up between the two of you?” you continue, which only seems to confuse him further.

“You didn’t… look, there’s nothing going on between me and her, she’s just a friend of a friend who gets a little too touchy-feely sometimes. And I’m not… I’m not mad at you, okay”

He ducks back into the kitchen, but seconds later he’s back again. There’s a curious smile on his face, his head cocked to one side. “Out of everything that happened last night the only thing you can remember is the two minutes I spent being touched up by a random girl. It really bothered you, didn’t it?”

“Not really. I just happened to be passing through, that’s all. Didn’t pay it too much attention” you shrug, picking at a bit of fluff on your jeans.

“No no no, don’t give me that”.

He takes a few steps into the living room, watching you with a strange fascination. “Everything else is gone but that still stuck in your mind. It mattered to you”.

“Why should I care who you get ‘touched up’ by?” you grimace, hoping he’ll give up this line of questioning before you give yourself away. “How’s that tea coming along”.

“Kettle’s not boiled yet” he says, without looking. “Come on, Y/N, think. If you can remember that much, you can remember everything else”.

He holds your gaze for a few seconds, before glancing back into the kitchen. “Just think, okay” he says softly, before heading back into the kitchen.

So you were wrong. It’s not the girl, and he’s not mad at you… which makes sense, come to think of it. When you woke him up, he seemed so happy to see you until he realised you were mad at him. With that in mind, it can’t have been something you did that’s troubling him – it’s the fact that you’ve forgotten what you did.

You get up and wander over to the French doors, trying to piece together everything you remember from last night. You agreed to the party, a whole bunch of people arrived, a girl got cosy with Tom, you got jealous, you drank a lot. Everything seems to be in place so far. It’s a little hazy after that, but then you grabbed Tom by the pool, tried to take him swimming, he sat you down on a sun lounger and brushed your hair behind your ear and…

His hand lingers on your cheek, his touch both unfamiliar and yet incredibly natural. God, you’ve missed him. You’ve missed the way he smiles at you in the morning, and the way he says goodnight. You’ve missed the sound of his voice as he sings in the shower, and the way he wrinkles up his nose when you mention you’ve heard him. You’ve missed borrowing his hoodies for warmth when the boiler’s on the fritz, and the scent of his cologne surrounding you like a blanket. You’ve missed how he crawls into your bed on a Sunday morning to watch TV, all warm and sleepy and husky voiced…

You’ve missed him so, so much.

And now here he is. You can barely focus on anything else, but right now you see him so clearly. He’s gazing down at you with a look in his eye that speaks of affection and wistfulness, his fingertips gently brushing against your skin.

You wonder if he looked at that girl this way.

“She’s probably waiting for you inside” you mumble, moving your head down to shake off his hand.

“Who’s waiting for me?” he asks, moving to sit beside you on the sun lounger.

“That girl. The one with the pretty smile and the perfect hair”

He seems to find this funny somehow, chuckling gently to himself. “The only girl here who fits that description is you, darling” he says softly, nudging his shoulder against yours.

You shake your head insistently, gesturing vaguely towards the house. “Not me, her. You’re just saying that”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean”.

You scuff your shoe along the ground, feeling his gaze even when you’re not looking at him. Are his eyes always this intense? They’re beautiful, you think. Everything about him is beautiful.

“Wouldn’t you be happier inside with her, than looking after me?” you suggest, tilting your chin to look at him. You can feel his warmth next to you, his bare skin brushing against your arm.

“Not at all. Like I said earlier, I can think of no better way to spend my time than with you”

You feel yourself swaying a little and lean into Tom for support. “Then why did you invite all these people?” you groan, resting your head against his shoulder. He’s so close to you, so close you can hear his heartbeat if you focus hard enough.

His arm slips around your back and pulls you into his side, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I kinda wish I hadn’t now, sweetheart”.

Me too, Tom, you think. But what comes out is a slurred, “I’ve really fucking missed you”.

“I’ve missed you too” he says, before adding “More than you know”

More than you know?

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” you mumble against his skin. It might just be the prosecco fog in your brain, but something here feels different. Tom feels different. He feels good, certainly, but different. Good different. Tell-me-more-different. I could sit here all night, different.

“I don’t know whether I should say. And if I do, I’m not certain you’ll remember in in the morning” He says, his lips brushing against your hair as he speaks. The sensation sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.

“I definitely will. You can tell me anything, we’re friends”

You feel his chest rise and fall as he sighs again, one hand absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your waist. “That’s just the problem, love. I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore”

You push against his chest, sitting up to get a better look at him. “That’s mean!” you scowl, sliding yourself further down the sun lounger and crossing your arms over your chest. Tom doesn’t want to be your friend? Maybe you don’t want to be his either. Well no. You do.

No you don’t. Not friends, anyway.

Fuck, you feel weird.

Does the earth always spin this fast?

“Oh Y/N, come here” he chuckles, gently pulling you back towards him and taking your hands in his.  “Look at me, darling. I didn’t mean it like that”.

He’s looking at you with that searching gaze again, those beautiful eyes fixed onto yours.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you to have a party, but the thought of being alone with you all evening, snuggled up on the sofa just like old times… it was too much”

“Too much?”

“Actually, no” he sighs, softly stroking the backs of your hands with his thumbs. “It’s not enough”.

Not enough.

The world around you is blurry, the noise from the party nothing more than a faint hum in the back of your mind. All you can hear is Tom’s voice, all you can see is his face as he gazes down at you with such… such… what is it?

You remember that look so well, suddenly. It’s ingrained on your mind, so vivid it’s almost as if he’s in front of you now. You can hear him humming to himself as he makes the tea, and you realise how patient he’s been considering the enormity of what you’ve forgotten. The happiness when he woke up to you, the confusion when you were mad at him, the moments of tentative emotion… it all makes sense.

You know exactly what happened last night.

“That’s what I meant when I said I can’t be your friend. Friends isn’t enough anymore. I realised it the first morning in my new place, when I woke up wishing you were there” he continues, his voice gentle and earnest.

There’s a pause as he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s building up to something, you realise, but he doesn’t seem nervous. He seems hopeful. His gaze drops for a moment, before returning to meet yours again with a renewed intensity.

How could you have forgotten this?

“Tom?” you call, trying to keep your voice measured. “I remember”.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, before he slowly emerges from the kitchen. He’s watching you warily, his eyes scanning your face as he tries to glean how you’re feeling. He wasn’t nervous last night, but he certainly is now. “How much?”

“All of it”

“I love you, Y/N” he breathes, his eyes bright and sparkling in the moonlight. “You don’t have to say anything, and it doesn’t matter if you don’t feel the same way, but there it is. I love you”.

He’s so pleased he’s finally said it.

And so are you.

Of course, you’d rather you could see straight, and it would probably sound better if your words weren’t slurred, but:

“I love you too”

His lips curve into a relieved smile, cheeks flushed red. “You know, if you weren’t so drunk right now this would be the perfect time to kiss you”

He takes a few steps towards you, swallowing hard. “And?”

“And I’m not drunk anymore”

His face lights up with his trademark smile as he gets your meaning. He closes the gap between the two of you, pulling you into him with a hand on your lower back. The other hand comes up to gently cup your face, fingertips brushing across your cheek as he looks at you the same way he did last night – with love.

And love is exactly what you feel as his lips meet yours, gentle at first as the pair of you savour the moment. The passion soon increases as his kisses become more insistent, your hands tangled in his hair and his chest flush against yours. He’s kissing you with all the pent up emotion from the past three months, the I love you’s and I miss you’s that he’s been dying to say conveyed in the movement of his lips.

Just friends could never be enough, but this?

This is perfect.  

[analisegrey]

Perchance to Dream

When Shiro is very young, he dreams in green. Not the dark green of emeralds or grass, but the paler green of the glowing stars his parents let him stick on his bedroom ceiling and walls. He sees them each night before he closes his eyes, and he dreams of space, the calm dark expanses lit with soft green stars, and he knows that someday he’ll go out and see them in person.

At sixteen, Shiro dreams of crinkly white, the color of hospitals and doctor’s offices, overly bright fluorescent lights flickering above him. He’s just been diagnosed with a disease that’s supposed to cripple him by his mid-thirties, but right now-

Right now he’s still young. He knows the diagnosis is bad, he can tell by his parents’ reaction when they hear the news, and he has a feeling he’ll be more upset as time goes on, but for now he feels good. They’ve started him on a course of treatment that’s helping; the aches he hadn’t realized he’d become accustomed to are fading, leaving him feeling better than he has in ages, and it’s hard to believe what they’re saying about his future. Hard to believe that in another ten to fifteen years his body will fail him, might even kill him. But that’s years from now, so far ahead in his future it’s inconceivable to him- it might as well be fifty years, a hundred, forever from now. He still has time, and the bright whites don’t bother him.

In his junior year at the Garrison, Shiro grows close with his flight partner, Adam, and his dreams become the soft brown of Adam’s eyes, twinkling in the lights from the control boards of their aircraft simulator, and the warm honey brown of his hair. Shiro’s dreams are heated, often matched with reality once they get together, and they’re some of the sweetest dreams Shiro has ever had. They graduate, and are so close nothing can tear them apart, not a busy schedule, not Shiro’s illness, nothing. Until Kerberos. Shiro’s dreams sour, the warm brown of Adam’s eyes turning calculating, accusing, hurt, but Shiro’s been dreaming of the stars far longer than he’s been dreaming of Adam’s eyes, and he can’t let those go, not when this might be his only chance.

Shiro doesn’t dream much on the way to Kerberos. He’s the only pilot, though he knows the Holts can make small flight adjustments if necessary. He doesn’t get much sleep in general, and when he does he’s so exhausted sleep feels more like a very long blink than actual rest. He feels Sam’s eyes on him sometimes, concerned, but not really worried. The few dreams he has are vague, quiet, silent like the expanse he can see through the thick glass of the windows.

His dreams while with the Galra are nightmares, images splashed in vibrant purple and the lurid red of blood. The glistening white of bone, and the wet pink of muscle, knowing what the inside of his own arm looks like, seeing things nobody should ever see and still be alive at the other end. He dreams of helplessness, hopelessness, and they carry over to his waking hours in a gray fog until he can’t tell the difference anymore. Is he awake or dreaming? It doesn’t really matter; he screams either way.

And then he’s free. He’s unconscious for the first few hours of his new-found freedom, no dreams at all. When he’s drugged at the Garrison quarantine hut, he doesn’t dream then either. He thinks he’s dreaming when he wakes up to see the familiar sepia tones of the desert, Keith’s face, sharper and older than it was the last time he saw it over a year ago, but he quickly realizes he’s awake. This is real. He’s out, away from the Galra. But he also knows he can’t stay. He knows what a threat they are. He knows they’ll do anything to get what they want, and what they want is Voltron. If it’s here on Earth, he has to try to get it out.

The next time he sleeps, it’s on the Castle of Lions, and he slips into sleep just as he worries that he won’t be able to sleep at all, the buzz of adrenaline from the day still a low hum in his veins. He dreams of the vastness of space, of the Lions, and in the back of his mind is a low rumble he somehow knows is the Black Lion, even if he hasn’t met it yet.

Time passes, and while his sleep is never easy, it does calm, nightmares only every few nights instead of every night, and while he knows it’s not great, it’s as good as it’s going to get while they’re in the middle of a war.

And then he dies.

He doesn’t dream at all in the astral plane, because he doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t have a body that requires it, and time is largely irrelevant. His mind drifts, wanders, and when he’s shoved back into a body, it’s a shock. He’s only awake briefly before passing out again, and while his body and soul try to acclimate and realign, he remembers. He thinks of Keith, briefly of Adam, of how far he’s come.

When he wakes again, it’s to Allura and Keith and a ridiculous poofing wolf creature, and they’re off and running again. They’re going home, and while there’s some trepidation, he’s also excited. He hasn’t gotten to see earth- really see it- in years.

Things happen fast and furious once they reach Earth, and he collapses each night more exhausted than he can remember being in a long time. He dreams of Adam, though the dreams are more muted by grief and remembrance than fact at this point. He has nightmares of Sendak, destroying the planet while he stands by helpless. So many dreams, his mind reels with them.

Then the Atlas flies, and oh- he doesn’t even know how to describe it. It feels similar to his Lion, but so much younger, and he wonders if this is how Allura felt while piloting the Castle. Black had been big, but the Atlas is enormous, and when he’s piloting he can feel all of it, a connection like he’s directing a large, overly-exuberant child who has the capability to destroy cities. They win, somehow, and in the calmer aftermath, after the speeches and celebrations and mourning for those they’ve lost, he can finally rest, and when he dreams, he sees the colors of the Atlas, surrounding him, made of comfort and calm. The color is slightly off from the pale green of his dreams as a child, but it’s close, and when he dreams, he sees the stars.