#we do. right? kids aren’t supposed to watch things die in front of them. kids aren’t supposed to want to die. kids aren’t supposed to want
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cleocatrablossy · 2 years ago
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We’re just kids
We’re just kids
We’re just kids.
We are just kids.
We are supposed to just be kids.
Were we ever able to just be kids?
We weren’t ever given the chance to just be kids.
But we’re still just kids.
We shouldn’t have to deal with this.
Why the fuck are we dealing with this.
We’re just kids.
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karenchasity · 3 months ago
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swinging at somebody i can't knock down | take me to war - the crane wives | 16 | 2/3
"all the words ive swallowed, all the sharp things ive kept in my mouth, i am always burning up."
kai blinks at the lights in the mall. hannah foster is standing in front of her, tears streaming down her face. ethan green is standing a few feet away, gesturing wildly in confusion.
“that wasn’t supposed to happen,” hannah whisper-shouts. kai shakes her head frantically. “we should’ve died.” kai nods just as frantically.
ethan jogs over, brows furrowed. “hannah! wh- you know this kid?” kai rolls her eyes, but doesn’t bother to correct him. he limps as he moves. hannah nods, and wipes her face.
all the words i've swallowed,
“kai.” she says nothing further. ethan shrugs.
“she can come with us, we’re gonna.. i dunno. do somethin’ so lex trusts me with ya again.”
hannah keeps her hand on kai as they walk. ethan takes them to the cineplex, where hannah freaks out, and drags kai away. ethan doesn’t seem to notice.
“we’re gonna die,” hannah tells her flatly. hannah, at eleven years old, somehow knows they’re supposed to die. kai nods helplessly.
“we should stop that,” she croaks. paul and emma are still at toms house. tom and tim wouldn’t die together, at this rate. hannah nods fiercely.
all the sharp things i've kept in my mouth,
they walk shoulder to shoulder away from the cineplex. if theres anything i learned, hannah tells her, movies are bad. kai figured that must be trustworthy, and didn’t question it. movies are bad. why, she didn’t know. it didn’t matter. linda’s going to get a doll off of becky, who will get it off of ethan this time around. and when she got it, hannah would be ready to fix everything.
or so she says. kai is there as she shouts at people. kai is there as she crying for lex and ethan to come back her up. when lex and ethan don’t move. she’s at hannahs side when lex and ethan aren’t, holding up one of her crutches to pull more eyes to them. she’s at hannahs side when she gets her hands on a doll and a lighter, and lights the mall on fire before it’s even been a half hour. the malls been open for 28 minutes and 13 seconds. 
i am always burning up.
and she’s at hannahs side as they watch the mall burn. she’s not sure why they got to do this. why they got to try again. why they were allowed to succeed.
she figures it doesn’t matter. if they didn’t succeed, they did better. that has to count for something, right?
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senorablack · 2 years ago
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So Much Better Than Egg Salad Sandwiches
Words: 3565 (wip) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Dustin Henderson, Robin Buckley Additional Tags: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Pining, Domestic Fluff, Humor, idiots to lovers, Kid Fic, Light Angst, POV Steve Harrington Summary: Steve gets a call from an old one night stand. Eddie just so happens to be around, decides to stick around, and now Steve’s got a whole world of internal shit to work through. There’s also the part about the toddler.
“So what do you think? That can’t be normal, can it?”  
There’s a beat of silence, but then there is a thump. A magazine waterfalls onto the floor. Some ripped open junk mail flutters down after it. A crossword with a pen bookmarked in it, flops clue-up on top of that. 45 down asks for a 10 letter word for terror so deep one is rendered immobile. 
“What was it? Too many basketballs to the noggin?All those crazy ragers at 16? Because some wiring ain’t firing off the way it’s supposed to if you seriously think I’d be anything close to an authority on this, dude.”
Eddie shifts his weight into Steve’s line of sight. Steve crosses his arms and purposefully stares at the crown moulding behind his head.
“And what, you think I’m hosting up seminars down at the Double Tree?” He snaps.
“No, but of the two of us, you’re the one with a resume that’s dirty with nannying.” Eddie says, dipping his head to demand eye contact. 
Steve does look at him then, but only because he wants to see the hurt cloud over Eddie’s face after he flicks him on the forehead.
“Ew. Come on, man, don’t say dirty and nannying in the same sentence.”
“Well aren’t we just a dirty-minded boy this morning?” Eddie grins, rubbing at his new wound.
“No, just a regular-minded dirty boy.” Steve says, and points over his shoulder with a thumb. He can still feel the sticky white crud, crusty and drying down his back.
Eddie peers over him before he steps away and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Steve dares him, with narrowed eyes, just dares him to make a joke about this.
Eddie mmhhmms, fingers covering over his mouth and pulling at his lips in a way that’s meant to conceal his glee, but Steve knows better. Eddie’s body is vibrating. The bastard can barely contain himself. That doesn’t mean he’s going to give him the green light or anything.
“I really don’t think I’m mature enough for this.” Eddie mumbles and buries his face into his hands.
Steve rolls his eyes.
“I know what that sounds and looks like okay, but can we focus—we’re getting off topic. Ideas, any of them, would be fucking neat right now.”
“Alright” Eddie says, sucking in a deep belly full of air and rocking to the tip of his toes. “Have you checked its instruction manual?”
Steve starts to walk away, but Eddie falls back on his heels and stops him by grabbing a fist full of his t-shirt. It’s unfortunate that it’d be the spot that hasn’t dried. Eddie’s face contorts in disgust.
 “What?” Steve rounds on him, “I’m shitting my pants here, but you’re joking around like you’re headlining The Apollo. Just go. Forget I called.” 
“No, look, I’m sorry. It’s just—I’m also very out of my element here.” Eddie says softly. He also wipes his sullied hands on the front of Steve’s t-shirt. Steve closes his eyes and counts to 5.
“I know.” Steve scrubs a hand down his face. “Shit, I know.”
There’s another thwap and what sounds of marbles rolling down linoleum, but is really a tall porcelain vase that stands on the offending side table. Even if they’re no where near it, the pair brace themselves for a quick run and lunge to catch it. They watch widen-eyed and wordlessly as the bottom of it twirls like a top about to tip, before the damn thing finally rights itself. They share a wince. 
“Should we, uh, divert its course? This seems like a gamble and we’re on the wrong side of the loaded die, if you get me.” Eddie suggests.
“Shit, there’s so much glass in this house—what was I thinking?” Steve says, grabbing onto Eddie’s wrist. “God, I can’t do this. Why did I think I could do this?”
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esamastation · 3 years ago
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Roy doesn't know exactly when the new alchemist joins them on the field.
It's a bad time - they're establishing a new camp in the town and the area is under constant assault, it seems. Small strikes on all sides, seemingly from nowhere, taking out a man there, another there, crippling a truck, taking out a road… The Ishvalans are using some sort of network of tunnels, the brass thinks, and it's Roy's job to smoke them out. So that's what he's been doing, seemingly all week… smoking out the supposed tunnels.
There are no tunnels, though. The Ishvalans are just getting desperate and in their desperation they're figuring out new methods. They have home field advantage and new tricks of camouflaging themselves in the rubble that used to be their home. Ruins of a people, blending in the ruins the Amestrians had made of their houses. They're learning to live with it, to work with it, because it's all they have - and they're getting good because they have little choice in the matter.
No one is listening to Roy when he points it out, though. There's a dismissiveness to the higher ups, when it comes to the evolution of Ishvalan tactics. "What are they doing now, praying for better guns?" As though this war, hasn't already gone on three times as long as originally projected.
Roy is thinking about it, staring at a crooked, unlit cigarette someone had put into his shaking hands, when he's introduced to the new alchemist.
"Good news, Mustang," Hughes says, with absolutely no joy in his cheerful smile, and less so in his cheerful voice. It sounds like he's chewing charcoal. "You're getting partner."
Roy looks up, his mind still in the meeting room, thinking about numbers on a map, how they didn't quite capture the reality of charred skeletons. It takes a moment for what he sees in front of him to sink in.
Another blue uniform, still pressed sharp and bright new under the beige overcoat that's supposed to protect it and it's wearer from the dust and heat of Ishval. What stands before him isn't a soldier though - it's barely a man. It's a short blond boy, no older than sixteen at most, with heavy non-regulation boots and silver watch chain at his hip.
The horror and disgust that wells up it's barely a blip before it's smothered under, oh, of course, and shit, are we here already? Then Roy stands up, puts the unlit cigarette away and holds out his right hand.
"Major Roy Mustang - the Flame Alchemist."
The blond boy smiles, crooked and sharp and just as mirthless as Hughes beside him. "Nick Flamel - the Fullmetal Alchemist." His grip is tight and brief, his hand gloved.
He'd be the newest youngest State Alchemist then. Roy had heard his record had been beaten, though he hadn't really paid attention to who or how.
Hughes looks between them and for a moment his eyes show a certain desperation. Then he covers it up and pats Flamel's shoulder. "Fullmetal here is stationed under you until he gets a hang of things - you'll show him the ropes, teach him what's what."
Keep him alive, is what Hughes' eyes say, and no wonder. Being as young as he is, the kid can't have much in the way of training. Alchemists don't need to go through basic, after all - they're not there to march or shoot guns or stand in lines. Flamel had probably just gotten his watch, his uniform, and a one way ticket to Ishval. To one of the worst, most contested zones at that. Shit.
Did the brass send the kid here to die?
"What's your specialty - metallurgical transmutation?" Roy asks.
"I don't have a speciality, really," Flamel says and pushes his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. It doesn't quite fit him right - too wide across shoulders, a bit too long. They'd either left some growing room, or they just didn't have a uniform small enough. "But I'm damn good at environmental alchemy, which I figure is what I'll be doing the most around here."
Roy blinks. "Environmental alchemy," he repeats.
"I can make the battleground my bitch," Flamel says, his crooked smile sharpening.
And abruptly Roy is already exhausted with the kid. He's one of those, then, a cocky little sumbitch, top of his class and talk of the town, so used to being the top dog of his little bubble that he has no concept of what the real world is like outside that little bubble. Guys like him come swaggering in all the time, all big talk and smug grins, so sure they're going to be carrying their little superiority complexes spotlessly over the finish line that they walk into the first fucking landmine that comes across.
Roy sees himself holding the kid's hand after he gets gunned down, still thinking himself invulnerable, and it's exhausting.
"What?" Flamel asks, suspicious at his silence.
Hughes, giving the kid the exact same look Roy must be, clears his throat. "How about you show us?" he suggests. "So we'll have an idea what we're working with here."
Flamel arches a brow at that and then looks around, light brown - or are they burnished gold? - eyes narrowing in thought.
Their camp is still a mess from the last attack - they're fixing the fences and filling the holes in the road that got busted in the smattering of mortar fire from two days ago. The perimeter is more secure now, for a given value of secure. They'd chosen the highest spot in the town, the temple mount, to give them a high vantage point - better than being penned into a valley. It leaves them pretty damn open though.
Flamel looks over the houses they'd taken over, the tents pitched in the streets and the flag of Amestris hung over the prayer hall, and clicks his tongue. Then he claps his hands together, and crouches down.
For a split of a second, barely a blink, it looks like he's praying.
Then he slaps his hands on the street beneath their feet - and in a crackle of alchemical energy and rumble of displaced earth, the street reforms. The dirt flattens, grows perfect paving stones, shifts to form neat walkways on the sides, even forming gutters. Between one breath and the next, they have a perfect Amestrian city street, formed from the dust of Ishval, surrounded by Ishvalan buildings.
While the soldiers on the newly reformed street let out shouts of shock, Roy just stares, his mind trying to jump hoops figuring out how the kid just did that. Circles in his skin, under his sleeves, inside his gloves…?
Hughes whistles, hiding his wild eyes in a squint. "Nice. You know, it doesn't rain much around here," he comments.
"So?" Flamel asks.
"The gutters aren't really necessary."
Flamel looks at the street he'd made, hands resting on his hips, and shrugs. "Eh, can't hurt," he says and motions at the street. "Anyway, imagine that, but spikes instead of paving stones."
Roy swallows and looks at the kid, who's just standing there, seemingly in no way bothered. Fullmetal doesn't look smug or proud of what he'd done, only grinning a little bit at the way the soldiers throw away their shovels, no longer needed. If this isn't something for the him to even brag about, then…
Roy has in his head an image of the kid doing a field of spikes under a charging assault force, eviscerating people by the dozens, and it's clearly not Flamel's only trick. It's probably not even in his top five.
Fuck, the kid would end up with a three digit death toll by his first engagement.
"Right," Roy says. He isn't sure what his face is doing but going Hughes' expression, it's probably not good. "You can make gutters. How about trenches?"
Flamel grins, his eyes like molten metal. "Try me."
-
By the end of the week - no, by the end of the day their camp is hugely improved by Flamel. The fence is turned into a solid stone wall, constructed within minutes from the remains of bombed out houses. Another pile of rubble is turned into a watch tower. They have trenches, they have pits, Flamel even adds a moat and spikes around the camp, like they're in an ancient fortress or something. Hell, there's even gargoyles in the corners of the wall.
They go from one of the least secure camps to one of the most heavily fortified seemingly overnight. It's a huge boost to troop morale - not so for Roy's sanity. Flamel doesn't even look winded by the end of his improvements.
"How are you doing the circles?" Roy asks finally - bit of a social Faux Pas among alchemists, especially military alchemists, but he has to ask. Flamel made entire buildings, and he hadn't stopped to draw a single sigil.
"In my head," Flamel says, shrugging. Like that makes any sense.
Roy looks at him and then at the changes he's made, and can't say it's impossible - he can see the results with his own eyes. And they're more than impressive, they're…
Flamel isn't going to be here long, he realises. Whether the brass send the kid here to get rid of him or not, the moment word about Flamel's real abilities spread, he'd be snagged by the first general with any fucking sense. The kid's a powerhouse. Roy is too, of course, that's why he's here - but Fullmetal is a different kind of powerhouse. Just by himself, he would be able to establish a secure foothold in the middle of enemy territory and that's not someone you just let sit idle.
Roy looks at the kid and feels torn between feeling sorry, jealous and a little bit bitter. If only he was a bit higher in rank, he could keep Flamel and make a full use his abilities - and maybe keep him from becoming a mass murderer in the process.
"What was your exam like?" Roy asks. There's no way the kid showed even a fraction of these abilities, he wouldn't be here at all if he had. "How'd you end up with a name like Fullmetal?" From what he'd seen something like Earth Moving or Groundbreaking would've been more apt.
"I made a spear in my exam," Flamel says, not looking at him. "And pointed it at Bradley."
"... And they didn't arrest you?"
Flamel smirks a little and looks at him. "What did you do?" he asks. "I bet you scorched something."
Roy had. He'd been welcomed in on the spot. "Training dummies," he agrees, giving him a pointed look. "Because I don't have a death wish."
Flamel shrugs. "It got me what I wanted," he says and stretches his arms. "So, what comes next?"
Roy looks at their newly secure camp. "Depends on the Colonel, but I bet you'll be doing more road work. We need a clear path in and out of the town."
Even though the town is officially theirs, that doesn't stop the guerilla attacks - but now, with a secure camp, all they needed was a clear path for troops to move in and then it'd be only a matter of time. If the two of them weren't already reassigned by then, they'd be after the supply line was secure. Alchemists weren't wasted in safe stations.
"But that's tomorrow's problem," Roy decides. "Come in, kid - let's get something to eat."
- - -
Nostalgia is doing rounds in my brain.
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monocaelia · 3 years ago
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royalty au headcanons
what they would be in a royalty au and the sweet moments shared with them.
feat. albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, venti
genre : fluff, slight angst in childe's
❀ albedo
albedo is the royally appointed painter of your family. he's in charge of painting all of the portraits of the royal family, which is well deserved. the blond artist's brush strokes and painting techniques make all of his works of art feel so alive, almost as if they could walk out of the canvas they were painted on and live amongst the people.
he prides in his works, always making sure each square inch of each painting absolutely perfect before presenting it to the royal family. even if they were already perfect to begin with. but, as they say, you're your own worst critic.
from since you were both young, he was hired by your family to teach you the basics of the arts as well as how to properly hold a brush.
so, you could say albedo has watched you grow from a grubby child to the elegant and refined person you grew up to be. an honor, really, to watch the stars in your eyes grow brighter and brighter with each passing year.
"ah, you've messed up the brush stroke here," albedo's gentle voice points out the mistake in your technique. your ears burn from having your mistakes pointed out, but you know it's for the best. you clear your throat and try to fix it, only to have albedo sigh from beside you.
"like this, your highness." before you can even react, you feel the heat from albedo's chest radiating against your back and your hand is encased in his own. he guides your hand with his, making the brush you're holding glide smoothly across the canvas.
his hand is cold, you think to yourself, and you wonder if he's been maintaining his health properly. but in contrast to his hand, his breath is warm against your ear as he talks you through the painting technique.
it's hard to focus when you're feeling overstimulated from the proximity of the blond painter and the rather domestic position you're in; almost as if your entire body is being embraced by the artist you grew up with.
"understand, your highness?" his quiet voice breaks your thoughts. he's close to you... so close. you gulp, praying to the archons above that albedo couldn't feel your hands shaking from this entire exchange.
"i thought you were supposed to call me by my name when we're alone together, albedo," you stutter out shakily. it's then that albedo realizes the position the two of you are in. his teal eyes widen slightly in surprise and his ears begin to burn a light pink. the artist pulls away, muttering a small apology to you.
though, albedo has to admit that having you in his arms, albeit for painting, felt so nice. from the position he was in, albedo could have counted the thousands of stars that your eyes held; and he would do anything to see them again.
❀ childe
ajax became a knight of your kingdom from a young age. he was always bored from the day to day schedule of his familial job; he wanted more and nothing could satiate the need to do something, anything that could give him the exhilaration that he needed.
which being in the knights provided for him. from learning how to properly wield a sword, to sparring with the best knights in your kingdom, to being a master at any and all weapons in your artillery, the ginger haired knight loved every second. he always felt alive when wielding his weapon, always grinning ear to ear when he's sparring for fun.
despite being a terrifying machine of war, ajax would never betray your family, let alone you. he swore an oath to protect everyone in the kingdom when he joined the knights, and that included you. the one who has watched him since he was a clumsy knight in training, fixed up his injuries, and wiped his tears away when he was frustrated with himself.
the call of ajax's name alerts him of your presence along with the quick pads of your shoes against the pavement. said male turns to look at you, smile big and bright on his face. "your highness! fancy seeing you here so late. did you miss me that mu-"
"is it true?" you interrupt him. your furrowed brows and frown etched onto your features contrast against the bright expression on the knight's. ajax's smile falters a bit when you stop in front of him, holding your arm and biting your lip in concern. "is it true that you're going to fight in the war?"
ajax blinks, stunned at your question. but he laughs lowly, not helping you in your concerned state. "of course, why wouldn't i? i made an oath to protect you, your family, and the people. it's my duty to go to the front lines."
his cerulean eyes stare into your own. you take a breath, hesitating on what to say or do next. ajax assumes you're going to scold him for throwing himself into the pits of danger, assumes that you're going to yell at him because when he fights he fights with no care to his own body. he would power on through the fight until he physically wasn't capable anymore.
"would you stay with me if i asked you to?"
your question surprises the ginger knight. out of all things that you could have done or said, he wasn't expecting this.
his finger strokes your cheek, sliding forward until your jaw rests in the palm of his hand. ajax gives you a smile, endearing yet bittersweet. he wants to stay here with you, to see your annoyed expression when he ends up hurting himself again or the huge smile on your face when he does something dumb.
but duty calls. and you know that.
his heart falls when you sigh and pull away from his touch. but it flutters again when he feels something hard press into the palm of his hand, your own covering his.
"then, promise me you won't die out there, ajax. take this lucky charm of mine and stay safe. i'll miss you."
you plant a quick kiss on his freckled cheek and run off before he could see you cry. unfolding his hands, he's greeted with the delicate, red mask you've placed in his hands.
❀ diluc
being the heir to the throne of your own family makes it hard to miss the prince of the neighboring kingdom. prince diluc is a stoic and hard to please person. every time you've seen him in passing at royal balls, he has always had a frown or blank expression on his face.
but, despite what his outer expression and appearance shows, the young prince is a kind and gentle individual. at least to you. in contrast to how stoic he is with others, his warmth is always welcoming and comforting to you. if he's being honest, you're one of the few people, if not the only person, who has witnessed the genuine yet small smile of prince diluc.
when he has the time off, he writes letters to you, often complaining about how useless the knights and how he would rather work alone. but he never fails to indulge you about the little things that have happened since the last time he has spoken to you. how he misses seeing you and that the next time you visit he would take you to a beautiful meadow he passed by on one of his scouts around mondstadt.
you, his only friend who sees the young prince as who he is, and not what the rumors, nor what his title says he is.
"thought i'd see you out here." diluc's ears perk at the familiar cadence of your voice. his eyes that held the warmth of fire flit up to look at you, and his breath is taken away. underneath the gentle glow of the moon, you're practically glowing in front of him. with rich, beautiful silks covering your body and a comforting smile quirking your lips up.
"what are you doing out here? it's cold out here, and the party's inside, [name]," he scolds you. diluc's expression deadpans when you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth and shrug. when a cold breeze flows through and you physically shiver, the red haired prince sighs and slides off his coat, throwing it over your shoulders.
"i could say the same to you. besides, i saw you out here looking lonely and like a fool, so i thought it would be nice to join you. so you don't look so pathetic." it takes everything in the young prince to not take his jacket back from you and march back inside the palace with the intolerable guests. "i'm kidding! but not about the lonely part. are you alright?"
the playful glint in your eyes disappears in that moment, captivating diluc yet again. he could never outright tell you this, but your eyes are the most beautiful he has ever seen. filled with actual starlight and twinkling with fondness for the awkward prince.
"yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with the guests inside."
you hum in response to him. "well. why don't i keep you company then? from one royal to another. we don't have to say anything, but having someone with you is comforting, right?" ruby eyes widen when you step forward and grab onto his hands, intertwining them. he hopes his cheeks aren't as red as they feel and that you can't see his blush despite the proximity.
"r-right. as long as it's just you, [name]."
maybe the young prince will find the courage to be more forward with you, ask to court you with a bouquet if your favorite flowers and a love letter slipped in between the petals. but for now, he finds solace in your company and your gentle hand laced with his.
❀ kaeya
the origins of how kaeya ended up in your kingdom's calvary is an enigma. no one is quite sure where he had come from, nor had any idea who he trained under considering he was an exceptional equestrian and sword fighting on horseback came so easy to him. every time anyone asked him about his background or history, the blue haired knight would always brush it off and redirect the conversation to something else.
despite having a mysterious background, kaeya still ended up captain of your calvary not too long after he joined your kingdom. though, anyone could have expected it considering he easily outwitted the previous calvary captain in their own sparring sessions.
during his time there, you can't admit that kaeya hasn't caught your eye. he's handsome; his laughter and taunts while sparring with the other knights sends butterflies to your stomach. charismatic and always lightly teasing you whenever you drop by the knight's hall made it difficult to suppress the rhythmic thrum of your heart.
"oh come on, your highness. don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." the smirk on kaeya's face only grows when you send him a glare. he finds it amusing that you're still trying to stand your ground despite your evident fear of the horse in front of you. "i thought you knew how to mount a horse."
the calvary captain snickers when you tell him that you are going to, that you're just not familiar with his horse. his sapphire eye follows your movements and form a crescent when his horse turns her head to look at you.
as you try and muster out an explanation on why you were startled, kaeya takes this time to slide his hands underneath your arms and hoists you up above the horse. your leg slips over the saddle of the pure white mare and you yelp in surprise at the sudden motion.
before you can yell at kaeya for not warning you, the calvary captain climbs onto the saddle behind you. because of the limited space on his horse, the blue haired knight's chest is pressed against your back and his arms encase you so that he could properly hold onto the reins.
"cat got your tongue, your highness? there's no need to be so scared, i won't let you fall. well, unless you're being more unpleasant than usual. don't blame me if you end up on the floor."
laughter surrounds you when you yell at the calvary captain to 'stop messing around.' he can't help it; kaeya loves riling you up and hearing his name slip from your lips regardless of if it's in between fits of giggles or out of anger when he teases you one too many times.
from the position you're in, you aren't able to witness the endearing look that adorns kaeya's visage when you calm down and lean into his touch as soon as his mare starts moving.
❀ venti
there's nothing that suits venti more than being associated with music in some way, shape, or form. he's a well known musician around your kingdom; knowing at least the basics of every instrument known to man and having every song he has ever heard by memory.
rumors around your kingdom flutter around, saying that hearing a song sung by venti himself could cure almost any disease because of how angelic and healing his voice is. of course, it's not true but the young bard likes to play along with it. anything to get free drinks at the local bar, right?
there's no surprise that your family hired the bard to become your piano tutor. but cheeky smiles, poetic songs regarding the beauty of nature, and lyrical poetry of the beauty you hold make it hard for you to not fall for the playful virtuoso.
a delicate melody drifts down the halls of the castle, elegant staccato piano cords resonate in each other's harmony. your fingers deftly glide over the ivory keys, eyes closed and letting your memory guide you through the piece.
beside you, venti plays your counterpart with a gentle smile on his face. a contrast to the beautiful, yet complicated composition that was being performed.
it was his idea to learn this rather tedious piano duet; you thought it was too difficult because of the complicated melodic line and technical harmonies. you recall many nights filled with frustrated tears and crumpled silk from trying to perfect the melody given to you; and venti's gentle voice as he consoled you during those nights and urged you to rest.
before you know it, the piano duet ends with a final statement of the tonic harmony. silence settles into the room as the final chord resonates in the empty concert hall, only to be broken when you shout victoriously.
"your highness, that was a wonderful performance!" venti congratulates you with a proud smile on his lips. the percussive beat in his chest accelerates when you beam at him, the candlelight making your eyes gleam as if they held the entire universe in them.
"it's all thanks to you, venti! oh gosh, i'm so proud of us i could almost kiss you!" the statement leaves your mouth without thinking and leaves the both of you stunned. one, two, three beats of silence and on the fourth you begin to stutter out an apology with a flustered expression on your face.
venti's airy, light laugh fills your ears and echoes against the vast walls of the concert hall. you want to dig yourself in a hole and hide for the rest of your life.
"and what if i take you up on that offer, your highness? or should i call you [name] now? a kiss ending this performance of ours would be way better than a bow, don't you think?"
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swtki · 4 years ago
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Dancing Days - Edward Cullen x Reader Smut
Anonymous said: 19&24 on edward smut? love ur writing!
A/N: Thank you so much :) also I’m so happy everyone is h*rny for Eddy. I decided I want to explore more period times with Edward, changing his persona in a certain decade, but still ultimately being in the same universe as cannon. This will play into the readers character a tad bit.
WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, SWEARING, S*X, VAMPIRES, ORAL SEX (MALE RECIEVING), VIRGIN! EDWARD, NON VIRGIN READER, GENDER NEUTURAL READER, MENTIONS OF WAR AND DEATH. 
19: “Fuck me like you want people to know”.
24. “Thing is, I’m a virgin”. 
_______________________________________
I brushed my hair into its usual part, making sure I looked flawless. The year was 1976, I was a senior in Highschool. It was a wonderful time to be a teenager, no longer afraid that my friends would die in Vietnam. Even in my dinky little Washington town, the culture was becoming our own. 
The Led Zeppelin record playing on my record player stopped suddenly, alerting me that I was no longer alone in my room. I turned, my expression soft as I saw my boyfriend, Edward.
“Whats up with you and this album? Everytime I come in, its always House of Th Holy on repeat.” I rolled my eyes, lifted the record in question off of the tray, and put it back snuggly in its case. 
“I can’t help it, Ed. Robert just speaks to me. I’m sure you’re like that with Louis Armstrong.” I waved my hand, walking back to my mirror to finish getting ready. 
“Maybe, but the music you listen to it’s...” Edward paused for a moment, sitting on my bed. “It’s suggestive, Y/N.” I turned to him, my eyebrow raised.
“Suggestive? What’s that supposed to mean?” I placed my hands on my hips, and waited for him to explain.
“Well, for one that one song says ‘Sipping booze’, I quite think that is blatant alcohol reference.” I looked at him, dumbfounded. Then, I started to laugh, and I walked over to him. Instinctually, he pushed his head into my chest, enjoying the comfort it brought him. 
“I love you, but god are we from two different Mars.” He chuckled, sending a rumble through my chest.
At school, I was an average kid. Fair grades, many friends, many ex friends. When Edward was paired up with me in math, I got through his cold, stone skin. At first, he was annoyed when I would fuck off, leaving him to do the work himself. Understandable, and once I realized how rude I was, I stopped. I talked to him, prodded him truthfully. I would ask him once we started dating if he had noticed me previously, because I had never noticed him. 
“Yes, I noticed that you were the only one who didn’t acknowledge me. Ironic I guess.” 
A year into our relationship, I would never let him go unnoticed. We walked the halls, hand in hand. Our outlooks were so different when it came to life. He was modest, I was free spirited. Edward was different from my boyfriends previously, I didn’t want to fuck things up, and I refused to even risk it. 
School went slowly that day, possibly because my head was focused on what I would ask Edward, my boyfriend of one year, about sex. About us and sex. 
I hadn’t told him that I wasn’t a virgin, I was worried he would only want a virgin girl, after all they can never look at you disappointed and say “I’ve had better.” A definite plus. Many a nights I tried to imagine him, moaning completely under my control. I wanted him, but I didn’t know if he wanted me. Surely in 50 years he had found a good fuck. I worried that he would be into someone else, forever tied to a vampiress. 
The end of the school day couldn’t have come sooner, my anxiety rising as I got into Edwards car, starting a long silent car ride. I tried to keep my mind off of it, an attempt to avoid the conversation until we were at my house. I kept my mind busy with the lush scenery outside of the passenger side window. 
“So... I know you want to ask me, and I know the answers to what I would ask you.” He said blatantly, putting the car in park outside my front lawn. 
“I don’t wanna talk out here Ed, lets go inside.” I swung my bag onto my shoulder. Thats the thing with Edward, I never have to say anything, just as long as I think it. 
My house was empty, making it easy for Edward to follow me upstairs to my room. I shut my door behind us, then turned to him. Unsure of what to say, I breathed in deeply.
“How long have you known that I wasn’t...you know?” He smiled, sitting on my plush navy sheets. 
“Y/N, I knew before I met you what I was getting into. Your ex had a lot of thoughts about that one night where you guys-” 
“Oh my god okay ew.” A blush rose upon my face, and I saw Edward laugh as he watched my body fill with embarassment. “Well why didn’t you say something?” I asked.
“I figured if it needed to be brought up, it would be. You and I aren’t exactly a physical couple so I didn’t worry too much.” I walked over to my bed, taking a seat next to him.
“I see...I mean it wouldn’t be a big deal for me so if you want to...” I bit my lip at him, his gaze turned to the other direction.
“Thing is, I’m a virgin.” My expression went from a seductive look, to a puzzled one. I wondered if I had heard him correctly. “I’m old school, Y/N. It wasn’t like how it is now when I was human. People didn’t just have sex in highschool, unless they were married because the man was off to war. So, it hasn’t been on the menu for me. You’re the first girl I’ve dated in fifty years, you know. And no, there was no vampiress or anything.” I smiled.
“Well, I don’t wanna scare you or push it or anything. It’s just you know-” 
“You want to touch me, to be touched by me.” his eyes trailed back to mine, looking deep into my soul.
“Yes, I want you, Edward.” I pressed my lips to his, pulling away jut as it got intense. I could feel his disappointment. “I want to...but I can’t let you down. Tomorrow night. I’ll call you and we can talk about everything we want out of it, I’ll give you a fucking fairytale, my love” I chuckled.
I called him that night as I had said I would. We talked about my first time, and everything I liked, followed by what he had seen on video, what he wanted to try, and his fears.
“I don’t want to kill you, darling.” He said.
“Then don’t. I won’t let you.” He laughed at me, enjoying my lack of seriousness.
The next night rolled along with a quick pace. I looked at the clock and saw that it was time for me to start getting ready. 
I made myself look simple, a small bit of makeup and hair product, but otherwise just a tank top and jeans. Sometimes, dating an old fashioned guy was a pain in the ass. Always complaining about suggestive behavior. But other times, my shoulders counted as being half nude.
“You look stunning, as per usual.” Edward said, stepping into my room. He was tense and barely moved. “I don’t know what to do..what usually happens with it if I’m not the one doing everything.”
If he had any blood flow, he would have been blushing right about then.
“We don’t have to do anything you know. We can just lay down and watch a movie if you want to, I just want to make you happy, Edward.” I walked over to him and put a strand of his messy auburn hair behind his ear. Without hesitation, he pressed his forehead to mine.
“I want to, thats the part that’s been eating me away ever since I met you. I want to make you feel good, I just don’t know if I’ll lose it and-“ I cut him off with a kiss.
“Even if you break my pelvis into pieces, I’ll still be happy. I’m always happy when I’m with you.” we both smiled, and suddenly the thick tension that once filled the room vanished. “I’ll take care of you tonight, just as long as you’re doing it for you. I just need to know you’re doing this for you, and you need to be sure you wont roll over afterwards and hate me.” I said, my hand clasped in his marble one.
“I want you, Y/N. I have no doubts that I’ll want you afterwards, too.”
I pushed his head down, level to my own. Our kiss was deep, filled with a years worth of hunger. My hands tugged on his hair, making him whimper. Suddenly, I felt my feet lift off the ground as Edward carried me to my bed. With a soft thump, the plush sheets surrounded my body. It was a contrast of warmth on my back, and Edwards cool body on my top.
His hands were balled into fists, clutching my duvet as if his life depended on it. I pulled away, panting for air.
“Sorry, I forget you need air.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes in response.
“Well, its a shame you don’t. Because I intend on taking your breath away.” we both made small laughs at my remark.
“What now?” He looked at me for guidance.
“Get on your back.” I said.
We switched positions, he was now on the bottom. My legs straddled his torso, I sight he visably enjoyed. I slithered my hands up to his head, cupping his face as I kissed him again. My left hand left its post, reaching down to the buttons on his shirt.
I paused, looking up at him once I got to the last button.
“Does it...work like normal or...” He threw his head back and laughed.
“It doesn’t have spikes, I can assure you its just like a humans. But Emmet did tell me to pull out so...I’m kind of worried about the implications of that but-“ I leaned down to shut him up with a kiss.
His hands were still at his side, resting on the bed. I picked up his wrists, and placed them on the side of my thighs. He squeezed them lightly.
My hands roamed over his bare chest, cool to the touch. I lached my lips onto his neck, causing his back to arch below me. I could feel his excitement beneath me, it gave me a big self esteem boost. His hand reached along my waist, tugging at my shirt. His eyes lit up at the sight of my bare chest. He reached for me but I pulled away to slide down onto my knees.
He looked confused, like I had left him high and dry.
“Sit on the edge.” I said softly, my knees burning slightly due to the rough carpet underneath them.
He rid himself of the unbottoned shirt, slidding over to me once finished. My hands slowly stroked his thighs, he was desperate for some type of touch.
I smiled, tugging on his belt until it came undone. He stayed silent, looking at me like I was the only thing in the world. I unbottoned the trousers, tugging on them. He kicked them off and was left in his breifs.
“Is it okay if I..” I looked up at him and he nodded frantically. I palmed him over his underwear, feeling how hard he had gotten from kissing. My fingers latched onto the waist band, pulling them down to reveal a pale yet pink cock. It wasn’t too big, but deffinitley satisfactory. I ran my finger over the tip, earning a small groan from the vampire. My eyes trailed up to him, so I could see him when I took him in my mouth.
He let out a breathy moan, eyes focused on my mouth. His lips were parted ever so slightly. I bobbed my head, and grotesquely sexual sounds arose from my throat. I felt Edward move a strant of hair out of my face, he looked at me like I was a god.
“Fuck..Y/N if you keep doing that there wont be anything for you, dear” He said in a breathy moan. I pulled back, my mouth feeling sore and tired. “Do you still want to?” He asked, grasping his hands on my waist.
“Yes, I fucking need you.” I threw off my jeans, I would worry about finding them later, I needed him. He layed back down, propping his head up on my pillows. Our lips collided in another kiss as I leveled myself with him.
“Are you sure?” I ask him, stroking his hard member.
“I’m sure.” He pecked my lips again as I got ontop of his lean figure. I spat in my hand, lubing up my needy hole.
“How do you want me to do this? I mean like slow? What do-“ He said with genuine worry.
“Fuck me like you want people to know” I whispered, “ Fuck me like you want the entire neighborhood to know that I’m yours and yours only.”
“I can make that happen, love.” He flipped me over, now being back to where we first started. He lined up his cock with my hole, running it around the tight area. I put my fingers in his hair, making a slight tug as he pushed into my body.
Pleasure filled my body as he filled me up, his cock stretched my insides in the right ways. Without pausing, he started to push his hips into mine, making sure not to hurt me.
He reached down to suck on my neck, adding to the pornagraphic moans in the room. My hands travled to his back, scratching my nails down the cold stone like skin. His moans echoed in my ear.
“Y/N, I can’t be on top I’m going to crush you” I laughed at him, tapping his side so he fell onto the bed. I swung my legs over him, sitting on his perfect cock.
“Perfect, fucking amazing.” He said as I steady myself onto him. His face was in a euphoric expression, the most relaxed I had ever seen him.
I began to rock my hips, sliding him in and out of me. His hands grabbed onto my hips, guiding me. Everything was a euphoric experience. My gut filled with that wonderful sensation.
“Edward I’m gonna cum, oh my god” I moaned out, picking up my pace.
Suddenly, the world went still. My eyes went black and I saw stars as my orgasm washed over me. My moans echoed in the room as my body twitched. A few thrusts up into my body and Edward pulled out of me, rubbing his cum out onto his hand.
I layed there panting while he sped to the bathroom, and came back with a clean cloth, wiping down my body. He put the cloth down, pulling up his underwear and handing me mine. I slipped the fabric on, slipping under the covers.
“Get in here, I wanna kiss you”
He laughed, obeying and slipping beside me. Our lips reunited in a soft clash.
“I love you so much, dear.”
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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago
Text
Slip Up
Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader
Summary: One literal slip up leads to another and, well—it isn’t pretty.
Warning: includes depictions of anxiety as a result of exposure
Word Count: 5.0k
A/N: requested by an anon who wanted something about a secret relationship! i hope you enjoy! on a more serious note though, don’t harass your creators and the people they care about. seriously, don’t.
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With one last click, Clay let out a sigh, grabbing his headphones and setting them down on his desk. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the still clip on his monitor with a hint of a frown tugging at his lips.
After two long hours, he was officially tired of listening to George’s screams ringing through his ears. Sure, they were funny in the heat of the moment when he was recording, but having to listen to the same screams on loop while editing?
He shivered.
No thanks. He needed a break.
Grabbing his phone, he pushed open the door to his studio and headed for the stairs. I wonder where [Y/N] is, he thought to himself as he climbed the basement stairs two at a time. It’s been a while since I last caught a glimpse of her.
Surfacing on the first floor, he stuck his head into the living room, glancing around for a brief moment only to deduce that you weren’t there. With a huff, he spun on his heel. If she’s not there, he thought, his strides confident and full of purpose, then she’s definitely in—
He stepped into the kitchen, his gaze landing on your figure half-tucked behind the open fridge door almost instantaneously. He smiled. Bingo.
Slowly, he crept forward, slipping around the kitchen island to silently walk up to you. Before you even noticed he was there, he leaned down next to your ear and whispered.
“Boo.”
Letting out a sharp yell, you whirled, your wide eyes practically drowning in the amusement filling Clay’s emerald gaze as he let out a long wheezing laugh. “Clay!” you gasped, holding a hand over your heart. “You scared me, oh my god.”
His wheezing only grew louder in volume as he slapped his knee, still cackling at your distraught expression. Puffing your cheeks in a pout, you turned your back to him, staring back into the fridge. “Meanie.”
Struggling to regain his breath, Clay leaned in to wrap his arms around your waist in a hug from behind. You could feel his chest shaking against your back with laughter, beginning to slowly die down with each passing second. A moment later, he dipped his head down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry,” he hummed. “I just thought it’d be funny to make you jump.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “I was right. It was.”
“Not for me,” you grumbled, and he let out the tiniest of wheezes next to your ear. 
“Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, kissing your neck. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you all morning.”
You relaxed into his warm touch, melting into the feeling of his soft lips on your skin. Sending him a tired smile, you closed the fridge door and focused your attention onto him. “I’m alright, but I’m feeling kind of tired,” you admitted. “You get kind of sick of working on an assignment after the third, you know?”
He snuggled closer to you, smiling into your neck. “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t know, but I understand your point.”
You rolled your eyes at him, leaning back into his figure. “Right, I forgot that you didn’t go to college, Mr. Streamer.”
Clay laughed at your words. “You’re just that much smarter than me, then.” He poked at your cheek affectionately. as he cooed, “Look at you, my super smart college student girlfriend.”
You turned in his arms to face him, frowning at him. “Clay, you say that like you aren’t considered to be one of the best, if not the best Minecraft player in the world. Give yourself some more credit.”
He brushed a stray hair away from your face, his gaze fond as he held you a little closer. “Okay, but only because you told me to.”
You snorted, sinking deeper into his arms. “If your followers could see you now, I’m sure they’d be spamming ‘simp’ in chat.”
He chuckled. “They already do that whenever I hang out with George—I can’t even imagine to what extent it would increase if they knew about you.”
You offered him a smile, but it felt forced. The question had been swirling in the back of your mind for a little while now, and it was just sitting on the tip of your tongue, now. You had to ask now, or it would devour you alive.
“Hey, um, Clay,” you said, your tone shifting as you fidgeted slightly in his embrace. “Do you—do you think we’ll ever tell people and your fans about, well—” You gestured to the space between the two of you. “—about us?”
He paused for a moment, then let out a soft breath. “I want to,” he said. “Oh man, you don’t know just how badly I want to share you with the whole world and show them you’re mine.” You felt your cheeks grow warm, your lips instinctively curling up at his words.
“But I don’t think they’re ready for that just yet,” he added in a wistful tone. He pulled back, sending you a crooked smile. “How about we cross that bridge when we get there? I know that when we do get around to it, they’re gonna love you as much as I do, I promise.”
You bobbed your head, feeling the anxiety in your gut disintegrate. “Okay. Thanks, Clay.”
He reached up to ruffle your hair, cooing at the small whine you let out. “Anything for you.”
Knocking his hand off your head, you grinned at him. “On another note, what have you been up to? Instead of sleeping in late, of course, you lucky butt.”
He swayed back and forth, bringing you along with him. “I spent a lot of time editing some videos that are still in the works. I’m gonna be streaming for a few hours in a bit, though. If you need anything, you know where you can find me.” He grabbed your hand in his, fiddling with your fingers with a slight squeeze. “Are you still gonna be working on your assignment later, or will I be allowed to bother you?”
Your mouth twitched at his pouty tone, and you squeezed his hand back. “I actually might go out to the grocery store. Patches’s cat food is on sale, so I might stock up on that, and I kind of wanted some snacks for studying. Was there anything you wanted while I was gone?”
He hummed, thinking for a moment. “Not really, to be honest.” Slipping his hand into yours, he began leading you to the front of the house. “Here, let me see you off.”
You felt your heart swell with love as he handed you your bag from where it hung on the coat rack while you laced up your shoes. Clay was always so attentive to you and your needs, never failing to make sure you had everything you needed at the drop of a hat. You were really too lucky to have him.
“Do you have your mask?” he asked when you stood up.
With a nod, you fished it out from your pocket, waving it in your hands. “Mhm.”
He smiled. “Awesome.” Opening his arms, he pulled you in for one last hug, inhaling the scent of your flowery shampoo before swinging the door open and watching you step outside, car keys in hand.
“I’ll be back soon!” you cried, waving to him from the driveway.
He waved back, leaning against the doorframe. “See you!” he called back. “Take care out there.”
“I will!”
His viridian gaze trailed after you and your car as you sped off down the road, knowing all too well exactly which radio station you had inevitably turned on. Well, no matter. He supposed it was time to stream, now. Locking the door behind him, Clay strode down to the basement, sliding into his desk chair with his hand on his mouse. Slipping his headphones over his head, he rolled his shoulders and opened up Twitch. 
Taking one last deep breath, he grinned and pressed the ‘start streaming’ button. 
“Hey, guys!”
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You grunted as you pushed the front door open, sliding your shoes off as you heaved the last sack of cat food onto the ground with a loud thud. 
And that’s all three. Finally.
Pushing the door closed using your foot, you placed your hands on your hood in determination.
Now, to get them downstairs.
You grimaced, glaring down at the offending bags. This was going to sooo much fun.
Some things never ceased to amaze you. Like how smart Clay was, even as dorky as he could be. Like how fast he blown up. Like how much you loved him.
And like how much cat food Patches managed to eat without getting fat.
Seriously, you thought to yourself with a grumble, how does she still look the same even though she goes through a whole bag of cat food in like... two weeks? It’s just not fair.
“I wish I had your metabolism,” you muttered, shooting a glare at the feline in question.  “You suck.”
Patches was perched on the stair railings a few feet away from you, grooming her paws. The moment you spoke her name, she lifted her head to look at you, her ears flicking. You stared at each other for a few seconds before she let out a soft meow, jumping down to rub against your leg.
“Oh, who am I kidding?” you murmured to yourself, your heart swelling in your chest at the feeling of her nuzzling her small head against your calf. “I could never hate you. You’re too cute.”
You turned your attention back to the three sacks of cat food you now had in your possession. Patches’s domain mostly consisted of the basement, where you kept her toys and costumes. Consequently, that’s where the cat food was also stored, albeit out of sight so that Patches wouldn’t get any ideas. Like her owner, she had a penchant for mischief, but you loved them both anyways.
The main problem here was getting the cat food down the stairs. 
I’m a strong independent woman, you thought to yourself with a small smile. Also, Clay is streaming, so I can’t ask him for help even if I wanted to. Bending over, you hoisted the first sack into your arms. That’s okay, though. A few stairs can’t stop me.
Taking a deep breath, you trudged toward the basement, carefully taking the stairs one step at a time down. The last thing you wanted was to trip while carrying the cat food of all things.
Unfortunately, it seemed that you jinxed yourself.
Everything went fine for the first two bags, each sack having safely made their way onto their proper spot on their designated cabinet shelf. Each time you tread down the stairs, you would take a quick peek over at Clay’s recording studio, smiling to see him amicably chatting with his viewers while completing another speedrun. With a smile on your face, you climbed the stairs once more to come face to face with your final obstacle.
You grinned despite your arms aching from having done so much heavy lifting. Last bag. Let’s go.
Rolling up your sleeves, you began the same process you had been running with for the past two trips: pick up the bag and head down the stairs, making sure to step carefully. 
What you hadn’t accounted for, though, was Patches’s presence.
You were just about halfway down the stairs when Patches darted in front of you. With a soft yelp, you stepped back to avoid her, letting her bounce down the stairs ahead of you. A brief breath of relief escaped your lips, but it was short lived. 
Just then, your sock’s grip on the floor gave out, and you felt gravity wrap a hand around your ankle.
Oh, crap.
A shout tore its way out of your throat as as you tumbled forward, landing on the ground with a resounding crash. Beside you, the bag of cat food smacked into the wall and landed with a loud crunch. 
That can’t be good, you vaguely thought, your mind fogged up by a cloud of pain.
Just a few rooms over, Clay froze mid-stream, his mouse coming to a halt as his entire body went stiff. Without even thinking to mute himself, he tore his headphones off his head, your name flying from his lips in a flurry of worry as he rushed out the room.
“[Y/N]! [Y/N], are you okay?”
On the ground, you winced, pain shooting up your side as you pulled yourself forward. In an instant, Clay was on the ground by your side—one hand on the small of your back helping you sit up, the other brushing your hair away from your face.
“[Y/N],” he breathed, panic seeping into his face as his eyes scanned every inch of your face for harm, “are you good?” You nodded, but it did nothing to ease the worry in his expression. “Tell—tell me.” He held three fingers in front of your face. “How many fi—”
“Three,” you replied immediately. You offered a pained smile, stifling another wince as you did so. 
He leaned in closer to your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “How badly are you hurt?”
You shifted your spine, trying to gauge the pain. The ache was dull at most, minimal at best. “Only a little.”
He pressed his forehead to yours, his breathing ragged. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You let out a small sigh, sending him a reassuring smile. You appreciated his protectiveness, you really did, but sometimes he really did go the extra mile. “Clay,” you said softly, “I’m okay, really. I promise I’m okay. I just tripped and fell.” Then you glanced behind him, letting out a deeper sigh. “The cat food, on the other hand? Not so much.”
The bag must have ripped open when it fell, its own weight having collapsed on itself and tearing a hole right through the bottom. The individual pellets of cat food where strewn all across the floor, littering the ground like pebbles. And of course, Patches was already starting to nibble away. Pesky girl.
Clay stood up, reaching a hand out toward you. “Here, I’ll help you clean up.”
You took his hand, shaking your head as he pulled you to your feet. “No, no. You should get back to your stream.” Your brows knit together. “I interrupted it, didn’t it? Your followers will be waiting for you. You should go back.”
He shook his head, his expression resolute. “Contrary to popular belief, [Y/N],” he said, “you’re more important to me than just one stream. I’ll probably just end it when I’m done here, anyway.” He squeezed your hand, his gaze kind. “Let me help you. Please.”
With your heart fluttering in your chest, you squeezed it back. 
“Okay.”
Clay grabbed the two of you a dustpan as you began to clean up the mess of cat food you had made on the floor. You whined about how you just wasted a sale by tripping down the stairs while he poked fun at your frustration, passing you Patches with the request of keeping her away from the food as he swept. In practically no time, you had nearly forgotten what had transpired at all, just happy to spend some time with your wonderful boyfriend next to you.
If only you knew just how much your little fall was going to blow up in your face.
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You ran your tongue over your chapped lips, your gaze focused on your laptop screen as your mouse finally hit the submit button. Letting out a sigh, you finally let the stress seep out of your body as a small smile overtook your features.
Finally handed it in. Now, you didn’t have to worry about it anymore.
With a groan, you stretched your arms out above you, cracking your back. You’d been working away for a couple of hours now, but at long last, you were free for the weekend. Humming to yourself, you picked up your phone. You had set it to ‘do not disturb’ a while back, since it hadn’t stopped vibrating at one point. You hadn’t bothered to check why at the time, but you supposed you could spare some time for yourself before dinner.
Swiping your phone open, your thumb instinctively tapped on Twitter, a blue glow enveloping your screen before fading to dark. You hummed as you opened up the trending page, curiosity pawing at your backside. You had your bets on some trend going viral, but knowing the internet, it was probably some weird, random crap.
There were a handful of political memes topping the charts, as well as a #TGIF. You stifled a laugh as you scrolled a bit lower. Twitter sure was a weird place.
That was when a tag caught your eye.
#DreamExplain
Your thumb stopped, hovering over the screen. What? Explain what, exactly?
Then there—just few lines below that.
#WhoIs[Y/N]?
Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest.
That was your name. 
Trending. On Twitter.
Panic shot through your veins.
What the actual hell happened?
With a heavy feeling of disbelief sinking its claws into you, you tapped on your name, watching as hundreds of tweets shot past your eyes.
Who’s [Y/N] and how can I be her
dream explain?! oh mygood what was that !!!!
is [Y/N] Dream’s girlfriend or something
um ??? dream said the name [Y/N] on stream today then went afk for like 20 mins ??? then the stream just ended ???wtf ???
what’s @georgenotfound gonna do omggg nooo!!! his boyfriend!!!!!!
You felt sick to your stomach.
Oh god.
They knew who you were.
You wanted to throw up.
Stumbling to your feet, you made your way toward the kitchen where you knew you would find Clay, your phone clutched in a death grip between your fingers. 
“C-Clay?”
He turned from where he was leaning against the counter, a smile lighting up his face at the sound of your voice. “Hey!” The moment his eyes landed on your face, his smile vanished. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Have—” You swallowed, your palms beginning to sweat. “Have you checked Twitter recently?”
“Nope,” he hummed, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “What’s trending this time? Did some politician say something or—”
“I am,” you said ever so softly.
He froze, his phone going slack in his hand. “What?”
You glanced up from your feet. “I’m trending, Clay.”
A beat of silence. “What?!” he repeated, louder this time.
You felt an odd sense of weightlessness sinking onto your shoulders, and you felt yourself begin to ramble. “Crazy, right? Little old me, trending? Wild. Insane. Like, just wow.” 
With each new phrase that leapt from your lips, Clay’s brows furrowed further. You could see the wheels in his head turning at full speed. Then, they stopped, and realization set in. Then came the horror.
Oh, dear god.
“[Y/N],” he whispered, taking a step toward you, “oh my god.”
“You’re also trending, by the way,” you continued, barreling ahead as your hands began wildly gesturing. You swallowed down the panic rising up your throat at full throttle. “It’s a shame that I’m not higher than you, but I guess we can’t win them all.”
“[Y/N],” he said again, “this is serious.”
You nodded, your expression still blank. “Oh, I know. I’m—”
Something in you snapped.
You sucked in a ragged breath. “Yeah, I’m—”
And out came the waterworks.
You collapsed to the ground, the sobs escaping your throat in uneven bursts. Clay’s arms were around you before you knew it, his hand cradling your head for the second time that day.
“Clay, Clay, Clay,” you choked out, your entire being dissolving into him. “Clay, they know who I am. They heard you.”
His grip tightened on you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. You sobbed harder, your tears soaking into his hoodie.
There was nowhere left to hide.
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You hadn’t touched your phone in days. It hardly took more than a few minutes for your Twitter feed to have absolutely blown up with messages about you. Some positive, some negative, some neutral. While you appreciated the kind ones, you only had to read a handful of the not-so-kind ones for you to turn off your phone and hide it in a drawer. It wasn’t like you were going to even use it properly, what with its cracked screen.
The more time passed, the more acutely aware of the public’s knowledge of you became.
Your name was everywhere, supposed drawings of you were everywhere, you—you were everywhere.
You felt like you were suffocating in your own skin.
Clay knew that the slip up had been rough on you, and he didn’t blame you one bit. He had asked you what you needed, if you wanted him to take a few days off to spend more time with you. You had declined, sending him a tired smile.
“I... I think I just need some time to myself to think things over.”
He didn’t push you anymore than that, instead holding you close and pressing his lips to your cheek. For the next couple days, he vanished off of social media—no tweets, no streams, no videos. Nothing. While you busied yourself with class work, he focused on editing and planning ahead for the future. You both knew you were stalling, but right now, you just needed time.
A knock came from your door, a soft voice following just after.
“[Y/N]?”
You rolled over on the bed you shared, your eyes flickering up to see Clay standing in the doorway. The book you had brought in with you laid untouched on the nightstand next to you. You haven’t been able to properly bring yourself to enjoy something without thoughts of doubt seeping into your head.
What do they think of me? Do they like me? Will they approve of our relationship? 
You were terrified out of your mind.
Clay approached the bed when he saw you move, gently sitting down next to you. “Are you doing any better?” 
He patted the space on his leg, and you twisted your body to settle your head on his lap. “Sort of,” you murmured.
A moment passed as he took in your words. “Have you eaten?”
You nodded, your head just barely moving. “Yeah. Ate some leftover pasta.”
You fell quiet once more, simply listening to the sound of his breaths next to yours. Despite having been hearing next to nothing but silence for days now, you felt better knowing he was next to you.
“Hey,” he said softly, grabbing your attention once more. You turned your head towards him, his hand stroking your hair. His emerald eyes bore into yours, focused and sad. “Tell me what’s on your mind. You seem so distant, right now.”
Your gaze trailed up to the ceiling as you opened your mouth, trying to connect the mess of thoughts in your head into coherent sentences. “It’s just all so overwhelming,” you admitted. “All they know about me is my name and that I fell down the stairs, but it already feels like it’s way too much. I didn’t even spend that much time scrolling online, and I already know that there are more than just a few people freaking out.”
You looked up at him, your sad gaze mirroring his. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to have everyone begging you for a face reveal.” 
The sadness in his eyes only seemed to grow deeper, and you felt something warm and watery wrap around your heart. “It’s my fault,” he whispered, pressing a hand over his eyes. “I should have muted myself. I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I just moved without thinking and—”
You pulled yourself upwards, turning to sit face to face with him. “Clay, don’t say that.” You reached out to grab him arm, pulling it away from his face. His gaze was watery, and you wished you never had to see him with that expression. “It’s not your fault, not at all. When you heard me fall, you thought of me right away, and I appreciate that.” You held his big hand in between your smaller ones, interlocking your fingers. “That just shows you care for me. Please don’t beat yourself up over what happened.” You offered him a timid smile. “I know that I’m not taking this all too well either, but we’re in this together, right?”
His lips twitched to mirror yours, but his tone was still tinged with a low sadness. “I know, it’s just... I hate seeing you like this, like you can’t live your life normally anymore because of me.”
Your hand reached up to stroke his cheek. “Hey, it’s alright,” you crooned. “Remember, they only know my first name—not even my last name—and that I tripped. They don’t know what I look like.” Your lips twitched. “Heck, they don’t even know what I sound like. I think I’ll be able to live my life just fine. It’s just a little bit... much to begin with.” You shot him a goofy smile. “I might have to use Twitter less, but you know my screen time usage is way too high anyway.”
A chuckle slipped from his lips, his eyes curving into two crescent moons. You felt your expression shift to mirror his almost naturally, but then the smile slowly crept off your face. “And, um, Clay,” you added, fidgeting slightly.
“Yeah?”
“These past two days, I gave what happened some more thought,” you began, “and I think...” You gulped. I think I want to introduce myself.”
His eyes widened, and suddenly his hands were on your face, his gaze focused intently on your face. “Are you positive?” he breathed. “You know you don’t have to do this, [Y/N].”
You nodded, feeling your resolve harden like a stone in your heart. “I know.” You offered him a bold smile. “It’s scary and kind of hard to think about, but I don’t want to leave everyone in the dark. I want to be by your side through thick and thin, no matter what.”
He paused, then pulled his hands away from your face. That sadness in his eyes had returned, and you felt your heart crack at the sight. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said quietly, almost remorsefully. “I know that being with me is already a huge commitment, and this is just taking another huge step...”
You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “Clay,” you said, staring down at your knee. “I’ve been here with you from the beginning, and I’ll be here until the end. I’m here with you for the long haul, okay?” You raised your head, shooting him a wicked grin. “You won’t be getting rid of me too easily.”
Just like that, his smile was back. “Oh, alright. Only because I love you so much, though.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair with a weary grin. “Well, if there’s anything that I’m sure is going to happen,” he said, “it’s that my fans are definitely going to call me a ‘simp’ even more than they already do.”
You flashed him a teasing smile. “Are they wrong, though?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners.
“No, they’re not.”
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Swallowing, you stared long and hard at the microphone sitting in front of you.
You can do this.
“Are you ready?”
You sucked in a deep breath, feeling your hands shake in your lap.
“I—I think so.”
Clay pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, his left arm wrapping itself around your waist to pull you closer on his lap. With his right, he reached for the mouse. On his screen, he had his stream loaded up, with only a single mouse click standing between you and tens of thousands of viewers.
Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to look at him. With a small smile, he dipped his head down to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling back. Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against yours lovingly.
“You know, this is only about half as stressful as when I met your family,” you joked.
He snorted, the rumbling of his chest running along your back and into your thumping heart. “And they loved you just as much as I do. Once the rest of the world meets you,” he murmured just for you to hear, “they’re going to love you just the same. I swear it.”
You let your eyelids flutter shut, breathing in his scent of fresh linen and citrus. “I hope so.”
He shot you a cheeky wink. “Oh, I know so.”
You rolled your eyes at him, turning around to look at his monitor once more. “Cheese ball.” You didn’t have to turn to know that he was still grinning. Snuggling further back into his chest, you said, “Let’s start the stream, yeah?”
With a nod, he clicked the ‘start streaming’ button. Almost instantaneously, thousands of people joined the stream. You briefly glanced at the chat and felt yourself stiffen when you caught a brief glimpse of your name. Almost immediately, Clay’s hand was on yours, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb while you relaxed once more.
Sending you one last loving glance, he leaned towards his mic and began to speak. “Hey, guys! I know it’s been a little while since I last did a stream, and I know you guys have some questions. But first, there’s someone I want you guys to meet.”
His gaze flickered to you, and he gestured toward the mic. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up your courage and leaned forward. 
“Hi there. My name is [Y/N].”
You felt his hand squeeze yours. 
With a smile and a deep breath, you squeezed back.
“And I’m Dream’s girlfriend.”
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neonacity · 3 years ago
Text
LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.3
LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.
Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?
A/N: Third chapter is here! Again, thank you to all those who are supporting the story. Once again, this is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.
Genre: yandere, horror, suspense
TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age. Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
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“Insane madness of the living can be more, more terrible than the bloody hunger of the undead...”
― Silvia Liam
The rules of hunting down prey are simple. First, you observe to take note of their weakness, then you stalk...waiting for the right opportunity to take your shot. Hunting is more often about a game of time than aim sometimes. You jump too soon and you risk scaring your target to a successful escape, or you do it too late that you let them fully slip through your grasp. Hunting... has always been about perfect timing.
"You already know the rules of the game, right boy?"
The frail form of a seven year old child cowered against the foot of a dead tree, eyes shaking as it regarded the man leering at him. The sky was a deep dark velvet above them, and the only source of light came from the full moon that dipped in and out between the passing clouds. A bell dingled from the tight chain strapped around his left ankle when he moved, the sound causing the smile on the man's face twist into a wicked grin.
The hum of a gun being cocked sent the boy to give a choked sob. He shakily tried to stand up from his spot and pressed his palm against the rough bark of the tree to support himself, his wide eyes set on the looming form that has taken a step closer to where he stood.
"It's the first sturgeon moon tonight, so we are going to change the rules a little bit, okay?" Those words only made the child shake harder, the thin shirt he had now clinging to him like second skin due to the cold sweats gripping him.
"You run. And if I catch you, you die," the man cooed as he craned his face a bit to the side, causing the light from the moon to illuminate his features briefly. He looked handsome, inhuman, like he was one of the fallen souls exiled to earth at the beginning of times.
The man moved the arm holding his hunting gun and used it to lift the chin of the boy still cowering in front of him. He smiled—a smile so beautiful and dangerous it can make angels weep.
"But if you die, then your brothers will be the one running in this forest to take your place. So...make sure I don't catch you, hmm?"
Tears finally streamed down the bruised cheeks of the child as he realized what he was up to tonight. Eyes wide with fear, he pushed himself off the tree he was leaning on and started making a run for it.
He could still hear his words even as he dove deep into the woods, the bell on his feet masking his thundering footsteps.
"Seven bullets! You have one minute to hide, son~!"
Gunshots pierced the night air like a wailing scream.
------
Bang!
Jeno lowered his hunting rifle and let go of his breath slowly. Despite the shadows cast by the towering trees surrounding him, his eyes could still clearly see the slight flailing of the fawn he just shot before it went completely still. Above him, a flock of crows looked down on the fallen prey with their beady eyes, as if gauging the best time to dive for their feast.
He slowly picked himself up from his hiding spot, a wide oak tree with overarching branches that hid him from sight. He's been crouched there for a good half hour or so, just waiting for the fawn to finally circle the area. He's been observing it for the past week or so, taking note of its routes, and today he decided to make the kill.
Unlike other hunters, Jeno prefers the thrill that comes with stalking his prey over simply making a successful game. For him, the fun of hunting is in the process and not in its ending—a kill , after all, means nothing if you didn't work hard for it.
He looked down on the small fawn now as it lay lifeless on the mossy forest ground with its glassy eyes still open. Leaning over, he lightly pressed his hand over it to feel its heartbeat just to check if he killed it properly.
It was so beautiful and graceful just prancing in the forest a few days ago….it would be a shame if it suffers now.
"Hey, you got it?" A voice from the edge of the clearing made him look around. Haechan emerged from between the trees, his own hunting rifle slung over his shoulder.
"Yup. What did you get?"
The other boy lifted a brown sack and gave it a light shake.
"Got three rabbits. I'm too lazy to skin them here so I'll just ask Taeyong-hyung to do it. Want to go back now?"
Jeno turned to look back at the fawn in front of him briefly before finally shaking his head. He didn't really want to go back to the mansion yet, so he decided to just throw an excuse to the other for now.
"You go ahead. I'll just skin it right here," he said casually over his shoulder at his brother. Haechan, too cold and too bored to stay another minute in the humid woods, gave a wave of his hand before turning back. Unlike Jeno, he prefers the comforts and luxuries of the manor over anything else.
"I'll go ahead then. Try to get back before nightfall, the forest can be a dangerous place~" he said in a sing-song voice, knowing full well it was a useless warning he just gave.
Jeno simply ignored him and silently pulled his skinning knife from his belt so he could get to work. Nights in the forest have never scared him, he knew it like the back of his hand.
If anything, it is the creatures there who should be terrified of him.
------
You glanced over at Jisung and Chenle who were currently immersed in their readings over the page you’ve been scanning. The sun is about to set in just a few minutes and you have the last session of the day scheduled for the pair before you could pack up and go home. Your lips slightly quirked into a smile as you watched Jisung lean over slightly into the other to silently ask about something, Chenle looking up from his pages to roll his eyes before patiently answering. The two have such different personalities from each other, which adorably and ironically, makes them work so well together.
If you're going to be honest with yourself now, you'd say it is your time with the two youngest that you enjoy the most as Rosewood's tutor. Chenle and Jisung were withdrawn and shy at first, but the pair slowly started warming up to you as time went by. Maybe it's because they are younger, but you prefer the innocent air around them every time you would have your lessons. Chenle is the chattier and the more confident of the two, but with his help, even the shy Jisung also started lightly joking around with you on his best days.
That's not to say that you hate your time with the rest of the brothers. You've only ever had one session with Mark—which went so well as expected from the eldest—while the rest have always been polite and casual. There isn’t really anything about your job and connection with any of the boys that should put you on edge and yet... you have to admit that there are still those rare moments when you just feel as if something is out of place. You couldn't really place your finger on it, nor have you blatantly caught anything suspicious, but sometimes you just feel odd whenever you are around any of the four middle children. It’s something similar to being watched...like there is an imaginary pair of eyes always pinned to the back of your head, or the ghost feeling of hands hovering around your throat.
Your eyes flickered now to the grand clock on the far side of the room which finally struck five. Closing your own book which you have been scouring over, you called out towards the two who quickly looked up from their work.
"Alright, time's up. Have you answered the first two questions at least?" You asked with a smile. Chenle groaned and pointed at Jisung accusingly.
"I only got three questions because he kept disturbing me, noona."
Jisung frowned and you had to keep your laugh back with how offended he looked.
"Hey, I wasn't disturbing you. I was just asking questions."
"Okay, okay. Don't fight now. Do you want an extension for the chapter quiz? We do have our next lesson the day after tomorrow."
Their faces simultaneously lit up.
"Can we do that?" Chenle asked.
"Yes, but I'll have to leave you the assignment of reading another chapter and finishing the questionnaire for that as well. That'll be your homework, okay?" You tried your best to put on your best impression of a stern look, which only made the two giggle.
"Okay, noona."
"You promise you'll do it?"
Jisung put up his right hand and placed his left one over his heart.
"We promise."
That made you chuckle. "Well then, that will be all for today. I'll see you again tomorrow, okay? I'll have lessons with your brothers but just come to me if you have any questions." You gathered the rest of the papers that you have sprawled on the desk you were using before waving the two goodbye.
You were in the middle of trying to fit in a rather stubborn pile of files on your bag that you didn't really notice the tall figure that entered from the front door. When you finally looked up, it was already too late for you to stop crashing straight first into someone's chest, if not for the strong hands that held you steady. You felt an arm settle on your waist, and another on your back as you almost toppled when you hastily stepped back.
"Oh! I am so sorr—" you looked up with wide eyes to see Jeno looking down on you. Your words died in your throat when your eyes caught the red stain on his neck and you gasped.
"Jeno, what happened?!" Your voice raised in panic as you stared wide eyed at the blood running down the side of his neck. He gave you a slight look of confusion before raising a hand to touch the area you've been staring at.
"Ah… this…"
You didn't wait for him to finish. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and turned on your heels to drag him to the opposite direction. You didn't look back to see his surprised expression, and before he could even say anything, you had already pushed him into one of the expansive bathrooms down the nearest hallway.
"Sit there."
You pushed him urgently on the closed toilet seat before you proceeded to rummage on the hidden compartment behind the mirror that Taeyong showed you before. You quickly grabbed the box of first aid kit there and hastily opened an antiseptic wipe.
"Uhm...noona…"
You didn't pay him any attention, too focused on what you needed to do. You quickly kneeled in front of him so that you were more eye-level with each other before finally pressing the damp wipe against his injury.
"Shh. This might sting a little. We have to see how deep your wound is and stop the bleeding," you said, a small frown creasing your brows as your fingers gently dabbed at his skin. You were so focused on what you were doing that you didn't notice the light in his eyes shift as he looked at you closely. 
His gaze dropped to your slightly parted lips, then at the look of concentration on your features.
Are you...worried about him?
Your frown deepened as you finally managed to wipe most of the blood away from his skin. The antiseptic sheet you were using has already turned dark red from the liquid, but still you haven't—
"It's not my blood," Jeno said plainly, his voice suddenly sounding too close to you. You looked up to him in confusion, and for the first time you realized how close the two of you were. His gaze didn't waver from your face, pinning you into the spot where you are kneeling in front of him.
"Not your…"
"I was hunting. I was skinning the game I caught but my hand slipped and I hit a major vein. This is deer blood."
If your face wasn't burning after realizing how close the two of you were at the moment, it is definitely on fire now. You opened your mouth to say something, then closed it again in embarrassment. Jeno continued staring at you and you watched as his lips ever so slightly curled into a smirk.
That made you suddenly stand up from your crouch. He calmly followed you with his gaze, a mix of curiosity and amusement in his brown eyes.
"I-I'm so sorry. I thought you were injured so I panicked," you stuttered as your eyes fell on the bloody wipe that is still on your hands. You quickly ducked to throw it away just so you could avoid his gaze.
Jeno followed your every move closely before slightly leaning his head to the side. He seems to be mulling over something, face now devoid of any telling emotions.
"Were you concerned about me?" He asked, tone curious. You glanced at him in surprise, stunned that he would ask such a question. It was bad enough that you stumbled over your words when you finally managed a reply.
"Of course I was concerned. Anyone would be."
Jeno slowly stood up from where he sat and for the first time, you realized just how much he towered over you. It didn't help that the two of you were in a much smaller space than usual which sent a wave of claustrophobia to wash you over briefly. You involuntarily took a step back, eyes only high enough to meet the base of his neck.
"Why though?" He asked again, and you could genuinely hear the curiosity in his tone. You frowned. He was asking...as if he isn't used to such a level of care. As if things like this are so foreign to him.
"Because you are my student. And I wouldn't want to see anyone hurt."
For a moment, Jeno didn't say anything else. He simply looked at you while you tried so hard not to flinch under his heavy gaze.
Then, as if a switch had been turned, he took a step to the side to free some space between the two of you. Your eyes shot to his face when he did that, and you were met by his boyish smile that crinkled his eyes into half moons.
That made you blink. You see it on him whenever he is with the rest of his brothers, but it was the first time he ever smiled that way to you.
"Thank you, noona. I appreciate it."
It was as if a blockage in your throat dissolved all of a sudden. You smiled back, a sense of relief overtaking you.
"Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I panicked, too."
"It's cute. Nobody has ever…" he trailed off before shrugging. "I guess, it's because we're all men here. So none of us are used to that kind of care."
You nodded slowly at that. It really must be hard...being in this kind of household. Now that you think about it, the boys are technically orphans.
"Anyway, I have to go. I need to get back before dark. I'm not really a big fan of night drives," you said as you picked up the bag you had haphazardly thrown into the sink in your panic earlier. Jeno simply watched you silently from where he stood.
"Make sure to be careful next time alright? Don't give anyone a heart attack again," you smiled before finally excusing yourself out. He smiled back and gave a nod of goodbye as you closed the door.
Jeno turned to the mirror in front of him and slowly touched the part of his neck where your fingers grazed earlier. It was cold now from the antiseptic you had rubbed, but he could still remember how good the warmth of your touch felt against his skin when you were trying to wash the blood away. He curled his fingers slightly over the area now, leaving half moon marks as his nails dug there.
Oh what he would do to have you touch him again.
-------
"Pretty neat, huh?" You grinned at Jaehyun as he parked the car in front of the manor. You watched as your boyfriend's eyes moved over the impressive facade of the structure in front of him, knowing full well that his architect training is kicking in.
"Not bad. Victorian-era, probably. The stones look old but the place looks pretty well-kept…"
You grinned to yourself now as you leaned back on your seat. Of course you have absolutely no reason to be proud of something you don't own, but you can't help but boast a little at your boyfriend. It is your workplace after all.
Jaehyun turned to his seat now to give you a slightly guilty smile. He sighed before reaching out for your hand.
"Are you sure you will be okay though? I'm sorry about borrowing your car all of a sudden, the timing is just so bad."
You gave his hand a squeeze before patting it with your other. He was supposed to go on a three day business trip away from the city when his car, all of a sudden, just wouldn't start this morning. He wouldn't make it if he waits for the shop to fix it so the both of you decided to just have him use yours for now. At least he has enough time to drive you to work, which is why the two of you now are parked outside the manor, 10 minutes before your first lesson has to start.
"Don't worry about it. I'll make sure to pick up your car later. I'll have the taxi drive me there."
Jaehyun glanced back at the mansion briefly.
"Are you sure you can get a taxi here though? This is pretty far off the main road…"
Well...to be honest, you weren't even really sure about that yourself but he didn't have to worry about it right now. You nodded and reached over for your bag with a smile.
"Yes. Or I'll just ask Taeyong for help if I can't get one. I'm pretty sure they have some taxi companies in contact."
Jaehyun still didn't look convinced but gave you a small nod nevertheless. His eyes were back to studying the house again which made you chuckle.
"Jae, I'll be fine. You have to go now or you'll be late to your conference. Thanks for driving me here," picking up the last of your things, you leaned over to give him a quick peck on the cheeks. He responded by pulling you over for a slightly longer kiss when you tried to move away.
"Yah, Jung Jaehyun. We'll both be late if you don't stop," you whispered softly with an amused tone. He laughed before finally letting you pull back.
"Just getting my fill of it since I won't see you in three days. Call me once you get home later, okay?"
"Mmn. Take care, too. Go get that deal closed," you gave him a wink before finally opening the passenger seat. You watched as he finally pulled away from the driveway and waited until he disappeared again on the long winding road before turning towards the manor again. You were almost at the front steps when the doors finally opened, spilling Haechan, Renjun, and Jaemin out of them. You frowned slightly as you took notice of the canvases they were carrying as you approached the group.
"Hey...are you going somewhere? Class is about to start." You asked curiously, eyes landing finally on the small leather bag that Renjun was carrying. It seems to be full of art supplies.
"We're doing a free art class today, right noona?" The eldest of the trio asked. You nodded, still a bit confused.
"Renjun suggested we do it in the garden since the weather is nice today," Jaemin finally said. "We think it'll be a nice change from the stuffy rooms inside," he slightly jerked his head back at the wide windows of the manor which are currently shut back with thick curtains. You glanced at them briefly too before nodding slowly in understanding.
"Oh… I mean… It's not a bad idea. We can have the first session outside while the sun is still bearable, I guess."
That made Jaemin, and most especially Renjun smile. The boy can be withdrawn most of the time, but you did notice that he looks happiest whenever you do creative classes.
"Thank you, noona."
"No problem. I'll just put my bag inside and then I'll follow you. Why don't you set up your things first?"
You've taken a couple of steps towards the front door already when Haechan suddenly spoke up.
"Who was with you, noona?"
That froze you on your tracks. Slowly, you turned to face the trio again. They saw Jaehyun drive off?
"Oh, that was my boyfriend. He dropped me off today," you said casually with a smile. Haechan leaned his head a little bit to the side in curiosity.
"But he took your car…"
"Yes, he did. His broke down so he had to borrow mine. He's leaving for a three-day trip so—" you stopped all of a sudden, realizing that you're explaining things too much. There's nothing wrong about what you said but there was still a part of you that made you feel a little...exposed. Jaemin, Haechan, and Renjun, fortunately, didn't seem to notice and continued to politely look at you.
"Anyway, I'll just grab a cab to go home," you continued with a smile. "There are some who stop by here, right?"
"Yes. Or we can just ask Taeyong-hyung to drive you. He is the only one who has a license among us," Jaemin offered with a casual shrug.
"Ah, maybe I'll have to bother him this one time if I can't get a cab," you said with a sheepish smile. "Okay, I do have to bring my things inside. I'll see you."
You have already reached the top of the steps before the double doors when you finally realized something. Quickly you turned to the three boys who were just about to disappear to the side of the house leading to the manicured gardens.
"Wait, where's Jeno?"
It was Jaemin who answered.
"Oh yeah. He can't come. He is on bed rest."
You frowned.
"What happened?"
Haechan snickered which caused Renjun to shoot him a reprimanding look.
"He got into a hunting accident," the boy explained as he barely tried to keep his lips from twitching with amusement. "He was foolish enough to get stabbed in the chest by a stag."
-----
You gave the oak wood door a few light taps before drawing your hand back to yourself. You still weren't sure if this is a good idea, and yet here you are standing outside Jeno's room, the expansive hallway making you feel too small and out of place. This is the first time you've been in this part of the mansion since you only ever roamed the lower floors for your classes, and you couldn't help but feel a little strange at the heaviness of the air clinging around you now.
Maybe it's because it is where the private quarters of the boys are, but the corridor was only slightly illuminated by dimmed lighting from the lamps on the walls. Everything was silent, and for a moment you wondered if you got the wrong door that Taeyong gave directions to when you told him you wanted to check on Jeno. You have already taken a step back and was about to turn away when you heard some rustling from inside the room. It was followed by a voice muffled by the thick wood separating you from the other side of the door.
"Come in."
You froze on your spot for a few seconds before finally managing to shake yourself to open the door before you slowly. Peering around it, the first thing you noticed was how big the room was—it looked more like a smaller section of a house than a private quarters. It was dark, but a quick look at it told you that it was mostly bare if you don't count the essentials, which is a simple desk by the side, a long couch, and, in the middle, a four poster bed.
Your eyes landed on Jeno who was looking at you with equal mild surprise. He was propped against the headboard of his bed, the light from the laptop on his lap illuminating his face. You noticed that he didn't have a shirt on, but most of his skin from the right shoulder down to his chest was covered by bandages.
"Hi," you smiled, suddenly feeling conscious now as you stepped into his room.
"Um. Hi. What are you…"
"I heard that you were injured so I just dropped by to check on you," you quickly answered to diffuse any awkwardness that is in danger of settling between the two of you. Jeno blinked, as if processing what you just said.
"Uh… sorry, I didn't realize that I might be disturbing you. I can also just go back another time and—"
"No," He said all of a sudden before you could excuse yourself. Quickly, he closed his laptop and put it away on his side. "You can stay for a bit."
"Oh...great. I uh…" your eyes roamed around his room once again, hoping to find a chair that is closer to his bed. There was none. You figured the couch was the only place you could go to so you started walking towards it, Jeno's eyes on you.
"You can sit here," he suddenly said and you looked up to see him pointing at the foot of his bed. That made you stop before glancing again at the couch at the farther side of his room, something which he immediately noticed.
"It's too far away. It'll be awkward for us to talk if you sit there,” he said, as if he read your mind. 
That...makes sense. With a slight nod, you closed the distance between you and the bed instead and chose to sit by its far end.
Jeno was back to watching you as you settled down, his expression curious. You softly cleared your throat.
"How are you feeling?"
He glanced down his chest briefly. "Oh, I'm fine. It didn't hurt as much during the weekend, but I was still told to stay in bed. I can't really move that much yet."
"What happened anyway?"
He scratched the back of his head almost sheepishly and looked away.
"I was trying to hunt a deer. I didn't know its mate was just around the area when I approached it so...yeah."
You winced as your eyes fell on his bandaged chest. You know next to nothing about hunting, but you know enough that an angry stag doesn't spell good news for anyone. Things could have been more serious for him.
"Are you sure that you shouldn't be in the hospital though?"
"Yes. We have a private doctor anyway. I just need to make sure I don't move too much to keep my wound from opening. And I also hate hospitals so I prefer to stay here…"
"You have to be more careful next time, okay Jeno? The forest is such a dangerous place…" you sighed before shifting your attention towards the window at the far wall of his room. He only had his curtains partially open but you could still see a sliver of the woods from where you sat.
Something about what you said shifted something in him. You missed it entirely thanks to the shadows from the room's dim lighting that masked his features, but it was there, hiding in plain sight.
"You take care of us so well."
You turned to him again as you heard him whisper something.
"What?"
Jeno simply smiled. He leaned back against the headboard, as if mulling over something.
"Since noona is worried about me, can you help me change my bandages?"
You blinked. That wasn't something you expected him to ask at all. Before, you figured Jeno to be one of the more withdrawn among the brothers, always with this air of intimidation about him, but lately, he has been throwing you off with these kinds of moments. He isn't flirty like Jaemin or sly and playful like Haechan, but he’s just so...direct. Almost pushy, sometimes. 
"I uhm… I don't know. I wouldn't know how to do it, maybe I can call someone and—"
You watched as he already started to undo the bandages on his torso, your eyes growing wide as he started to expose more skin.
"Jeno wait, I think we should call Taeyong for thi—oh my god."
Your words were cut off when he finally let the last of the bandages fall to reveal the cut on his torso. It started from his right chest, a few inches above the collarbone, and ran sideways to the middle where it cut off. Stitches held the skin together, and you could see the darkening sides of the flesh where it broke.
Yet it wasn't only that which caught your attention. Despite the dimness of the room, you could see other marks in his body, old scars that adorned his pale skin here and there. They varied in length and thickness, and you couldn't figure out what might have caused them. Were they from hunting accidents too…?
You immediately turned to look away. You didn't want to seem rude for staring. Jeno, however, seemed unbothered, if not mildly amused. Watching you through hooded eyes, he let you squirm for a little bit first before finally calling for your attention once more.
"Noona."
"Yes?"
"Help me, please?"
The tone he used on you finally made you turn with a slight wince, which only made him chuckle.
"You're not used to seeing injuries?"
"I'm not fond of them. I don't think anyone is."
“So let's get this over with then. I just need you to hold one side of the bandage for me while I wrap it again. It's hard when I do it alone."
You were about to open your mouth to say something again but chose to purse your lips after in the end. With a soft sigh, you finally picked yourself up from your spot by the foot of the bed to move closer to him. Jeno had already uncapped what looked to be a bottle of antiseptic at this point and had started to dab gently at his cut. You tried to watch without wincing too much as he tried to do the job, but it was probably too painful for him to move too much because he was missing a lot of it.
"Hey, just give me that. I'll do it," you asked as you gently took the cotton pad from him. Jeno wordlessly let you take it, eyes closely watching you as you ducked a little to clean his wound. You tried your best to keep your eyes on target, not allowing them to move anywhere else…
"It looks so bad… I'm surprised you can still move…" you whispered, more to yourself than to him as you frowned over it. You completely missed the way the corners of Jeno's lips ever so slightly tilted as your fingers brushed against his skin.
"Your fiance must have never gotten injured before, noona."
Your hand froze at what he said. Slowly, you looked up at him, only to see him smile at you.
"How did you…"
"Oh, Taeyong-hyung told us. He just reminded us to be nice to you or else you might quit. He said you are saving up for your wedding."
You didn't say anything at first after his explanation. There's nothing wrong about it, and it seems very in-character for Taeyong to say that since he seems to be the most worried about the possibility of you quitting. Still, you couldn't help the odd feeling that tugged at your chest, one you tried to shove back as you turned your attention again to what you were doing just so you could escape Jeno's gaze.
"Well… yes. I am saving up for it. But I also enjoy my time here… so far…"
Jeno smiled to himself as he looked down on you, eyes watching your every move.
"We'll behave too, we promise," he said softly that you almost didn't catch it.
"Until then, I'm sure your boyfriend wouldn't mind us borrowing you from him."  
----
"Jisung! Chenle! Don't run too far into the forest, okay?" Taeyong called out to the two boys who have already turned on their tails and have started running towards the woods. You watched as the two laughed and pushed at each other playfully before finally disappearing into the forest edge.
Taeyong sighed beside you and let the hands he had on his hips fall to his sides. You turned to him and he gave you an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry for suddenly asking you to watch over them. I totally forgot that I had to drive the rest to their dentist appointment today," he said with a scratch of his head. You simply shook a hand at him to wave him off.
"Don't worry about it. I don't have any other classes today anyway so I'll just wait here for them. But... uh... are you sure that it is safe for them to play there?"
"Yes. As long as they stay in the right zones. There are parts there where some wild animals might roam around this season but Jisung and Chenle already know that, don't worry. It won't be the first time they'll be going there too. They've been playing there since they were kids."
You nodded slowly, still a little bit unsure as your gaze floated over to the woods once more. If it were you, you wouldn't let them go near it, especially after what happened to Jeno.
"I'll have to go then. I promise I'll be back by 5. Then I can drive you back to town after."
You turned to look at Taeyong once more and gave him a grateful smile. You usually would have declined the offer under normal circumstances, but you honestly think it will be easier and safer for you to just have him take you back later.
"Thank you. I appreciate that."
The other nodded before giving you one last smile. Turning around, you watched him go to the car where Haechan, Renjun, and Jaemin were already waiting. Jeno was still in bed rest, so he is skipping the impromptu trip this time.
You only turned back to look at the woods ahead when you finally saw the black sedan disappear down the road. The forest looked foreboding in front of you, one look at it and you know there is no way you'll venture there in your own free will. With a sigh, you picked up the book you've brought with you and let yourself take a seat by the grass as you wait for Jisung and Chenle to return.
A sudden sharp caw that tore the air made you look up in surprise from the current chapter you were reading. You didn't have any idea how much time had already passed after you lost yourself in your book, but you were surprised to see that the sky had gone red over the horizon as a flock of crows soared from the depths of the forest. You watched as they circled just above the trees before finally disappearing far into the sky. That was when you realized it; it's been a while since Jisung and Chenle left.
With panic slowly creeping into your chest, you glanced at your watch then back at the mansion behind you. Taeyong didn't say anything about a curfew for the two kids, but your own sense told you that the pair should be back before night falls. Your gut told you that you should start looking for them, but the problem is that there is still more than half an hour left before Taeyong said they will return and the only other person left in the manor was Jeno—who can't even get out of bed. 
You swallowed. Before you could make any decision, however, a bone-chilling sound floated into the air that made your blood turn cold. It was faint at first, making you wonder if it was just your imagination playing tricks on you, but then it called out again, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach.
It was Chenle. Screaming.
You broke into a run without a second thought.
It took you everything you have not to topple over the uneven forest floor as you wove through the trees. You have no idea where you were going, your mind and vision reeling as you tried to follow the voice. Your skirt have caught countless times on shrubberies and wayward tree barks as you tore through the woods but you kept going, not minding the tears on the fabric and the skin of your legs.
"Chenle! Jisung! Where are you!"
You called out desperately when the cries suddenly stopped. You were only barely aware of your heart thundering in your chest and your lungs burning from overexertion.
No. No. Don't stop screaming. I can't find you if you do.
"Chenle! Jisung!" You called out again desperately as you stopped at the edge of what seemed to be a small patch of land that dropped off to a ravine. The trees beyond were denser than the ones at the edge of the forest and the already fading light of the day wasn't helping the thick canopies above you that rained shadows on where you stood. You looked around and swallowed thickly. Something inside of you told you to turn around and run again but you stayed frozen on your spot, waiting for any sound from the kids.
It took you a few more heartbeats to pick up something again. Jisung's voice sounded far off to your right, maybe about 15 meters from where you currently are.
"Noona! Help! Chenle fell down!"
Your adrenaline jumped into action again.
"Jisung?! Jisung! Wait—Is Chenle with you?” A soft voice called out and you breathed in as you recognized the latter's tone. “I'm coming! Don't stop calling for me, okay, so I can find you!"
You were about to turn away from the edge of the steep ravine you were still standing on when you felt your back hit something hard. Before you could even turn around to look at it, however, a blunt force hitting the middle of your shoulder blades sent you toppling forward, straight into the sharp fall beyond.
You screamed, before everything went quiet as your head hit the bedrock below.
---
A.N. GOD THIS WAS SO LONG IM SO GLAD IT IS FINALLY DONE.
Taglist:  @negincho,  @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore, @jsturkey​, @aj--7, @pukupukupawpau​, @tomiesgirlfren​, @vsszn
CHAPTER 4
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yesimwriting · 4 years ago
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The Promise of Rain, blurb 2
The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 
A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))
Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)
--
The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 
Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 
“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 
I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 
His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 
I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 
It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 
Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 
“It might rain tonight.” 
He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”
I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 
“You distracted me on purpose.” 
“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 
How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 
Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 
His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 
“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 
Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 
My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 
“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 
I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 
“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 
My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”
“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”
Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 
“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”
“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 
“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”
Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 
Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”
“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 
“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”
“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 
From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 
“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 
I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 
I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 
“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 
“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 
He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 
“Too bad.” 
Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 
There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 
“A look?” 
Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 
Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”
The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 
He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”
I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 
“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 
On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 
“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 
Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 
“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 
I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 
“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 
“Like what?” 
Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 
Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”
We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 
The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 
“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 
A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 
“Your upbringing makes sense--” 
“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 
He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 
I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 
And then I keep reading. 
--
@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 
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selfawarejester · 3 years ago
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So, someone requested a fic where Blue Team rescues a Child!Reader from a war zone, but unfortunately Tumblr ate the ask. If you’re the one who requested it, please enjoy!
EDIT: found a screenshot! @simp-for-fictional-men-only, hope you like this!
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Blue Team x Child!Reader (Halo)
It’s been a long “day”, even by Spartan standards.
Blue Team had been trying to repel Covenant forces on an Outer Colonies planet for over a week… but it hadn’t been enough. Command had called an evacuation, and after destroying a base to help the efforts, Blue Team had been ordered to help with final evacuation calls in the nearest town.
On the Pelican ride to town, there was a brief moment where they thought it was a waste of resources to send Spartans for an evacuation op, especially because the other Spartan teams were still doing the best they could to strike back at the Covenant; not necessarily to stop them anymore, just to hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape and maybe a little revenge. The events of the week, coupled with the guilt of their brothers and sisters still risking their lives, weighed on them heavily.
But at the end of the day, they’re glad they did: they found a group in the Rec center, a dozen people in the boroughs, twenty in an apartment complex — the Marines wouldn’t have been able to lift most of the wreckage that blocked them from escaping.
By the time they’d gotten to the outskirts of town, Blue Team had been left alone to sweep through the dead town. Chief considered just going to meet up with the Marines — surely, they could match the pace of the overloaded Troop Transports — and this area was just dilapidated factories and shady looking establishments that had long since been stampeded.
But a need to fulfil his task to completion stayed his hand… and thank god it did.
At first, it was just soft sniffles that sounded from the inside of the rundown factory. Chief and Kelly, who’d partnered up to search this side of the district, thought it was one of the many Jackals that had been posted in the previous sector wandering, or a Grunt that had been left behind after the Jackals had entertained themselves (in which case, they should probably put the thing out of its misery), so they go inside.
Chief goes first, moving carefully through the debris so as to not dislodge the wreckage, or disturb the corpses of the few soldiers and more civilians. He retrieves their dog tags, securing them in one of the compartments of the MJOLNIR, and Kelly follows, stepping where he does.
Slowly, the sound becomes louder and louder, wheezing and snotty sobbing. Definitely an injured Grunt, he thinks. It’s coming from under a slab of concrete propped up against a wall. Kelly flanks to the right, while Chief goes to the left. He signals that he’ll lift it on the count of three, and grips the edge of the slab. When the slab gets tossed aside, Kelly raises her shotgun, pointing directly at the small figure.
You shriek and bury your head in your knees, pulled up to your chest. You couldn’t believe that after all the gross, awful things you’d had to sit through, holed up in this corner, you were just going to die.
But when nothing happens for a solid five seconds, you chance a peek over your knees and gasp. S-117 and S-087 are emblazoned across the chests of the armored giants… Spartans.
Kelly and Chief exchange confused gazes, having no idea how to deal with children. The last ones they’d had any interaction with was the Castoffs on Netherop, but they were more feral gremlins than they had been children.
(Kelly and Fred still aren’t entirely sure that the whole incident wasn’t a heat-induced hallucination.)
John really doesn’t want to go through another episode like it, but on the other hand, it would be easier if you were pelting rocks at them.
Kelly, being the more personable of the two, kneels to your height (or as close as a Spartan could get) and softly calls. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help.”
You knew that — they were Spartans! The greatest heroes Humanity ever possessed! You were just shocked that you were getting rescued by them.
“Y-you’re Spartans.” You whisper dumbly, but you couldn’t help it! How are you supposed to be cool when you grew up with Master Chief’s action figure on your nightstand. “Like Master Chief.”
You can’t see it, but John can sense Kelly’s smirk as she looks over at him and points. “Well, that’s the man himself.”
* Oh no. By the way your wet, moved eyes stare up at him, it seems you’re a fan.
OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!! You hope your pterodactyl screeching wasn’t external.
“Whoa.” This couldn’t be real. You’d passed out from exhaustion, and were dreaming all of this. That could be the only possibility!
John knows that this is the part where he says something witty or inspiring… but he really doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”
You shake your head violently, a burning need to not disappoint your childhood hero, and clamber up to your feet… only to wince and lean against the wall, something sticky on your leg.
Now that you’re standing, he can see the dried blood around your ankle. “Hold still!” All the softness is gone from Kelly’s tone as she works on bandaging you up, but you don’t mind, appreciating how careful she’s being.
Co-ordinating with Linda, who informs him that there are patrols scouting the areas — probably only to get any survivors, and not to catch them, but they should still move — and Fred, who tells him that the convoy is flying off-planet via Pelicans in half an hour, John makes some quick calculations.
With the pace you’d set, hobbling alongside Kelly, whimpering every time you put your weight on your left foot, it would take them at least an hour. Too long.
“Whoa…” The sound comes unbidden from Fred when Kelly emerges, with you clutching at her hip, all bloody and dirty. A pang of sympathy strikes as he looks around and realizes all that you must have seen. He was well aware that normal children weren’t nearly as resilient as he and his siblings had been.
“….” He stays silent as you arrive in front of him, staring up at him with slight apprehension, heart racing as he tries to think of something to say — and for some reason, he lands on an awkward, weirdly Southern-sounding. “Hey champ!”
John and Kelly both shoot him weird looks, and he wants to dig a hole and die, when they hear it.
A small giggle falls from your lips, tiny hands covering your mouth as you try not to laugh. Fred sighs in relief, but his anxiety returns when Kelly’s joking voice comes over the comms saying “Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of them.”
Linda drops out of nowhere, and nearly scares you to death as you shriek and bump into John, holding his leg tightly. You don’t really notice how he freezes, confused again.
“…sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, you think with a pout and drop from Chief’s leg, careful of your own busted ankle.
“That’s Linda, that’s Fred and I’m Kelly. You can just call him Chief. What’s your name?”
“Y-Y/N.”
“Alright. We won’t be able to make it if you’re walking, so you need to get on one of our backs.” Chief tells you, straight to business. “Which one of us do you feel comfortable with?”
He’s really hoping you pick Kelly or Fred. It wouldn’t exactly be a burden, you’re much tinier than the full grown people he’s had to carry out of a war zone, and you’re handling it much better as well, even though you’re barely ten years old.
“Um…” You look shyly up at Fred. “If you don’t really mind…”
*Aw. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Fred beckons you over, and hoists you up between his shoulders, giving you the rundown on what to do if people start shooting, and to hold on tight when he tells you to.
*You’re much more considerate than the freaked out VIPs he’s had to extract. But he still feels you twitch every time the wind causes something to clatter, so he decides to strike up conversation.
“So how did you wind up there?” It’s not until afterwards that he realizes that, unlike soldiers, civilians aren’t comfortable discussing stuff like that. But you answer that it was your dad’s factory, explaining that it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day.
The Spartans, specifically Kelly, asked you questions about it, having never heard of it themselves. After all, military settings rarely allowed such breaches of protocol.
You only trailed off as you got to the part where he told you to hide, and Fred lets it be.
When you finally get to the convoy, a nurse hurriedly tries to pull you away from the Spartans to help out, apologizing for not doing it sooner when Fred tells her it’s fine and that you can stay. After all, Kelly had fixed you up well, and you seemed terrified at the prospect of being left alone.
All that was left to do was fly up to the ship in outer orbit, with the rest of the survivors. Since there were such few Pelicans, everyone had been crammed into them, military and civilians alike. You’d simply wandered onto the one they’d been on, sandwiched between Chief and Fred.
Chief watches you picking at your shorts, and suddenly remembers the chocolate bar Sgt. Johnson keeps giving him - “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Chief” He’d snicker and then leave, Chief just standing there, not understanding the reference - but hey, chocolate was chocolate.
“Here. You did well.” Your eyes go wide, and for a second he thinks you’re going to refuse, but then you snatch it out of his hand and snarf it down. This is how it must feel to watch him eat.
“You’re going to like it up there.” Fred chimes in when your gaze starts getting distant again. “Space is really cool.”
In a twist of fate, you find one of your best friends when you arrive on the ship. Their parents promise to take care of you, and thank the Spartans.
When they start directing the survivors to their quarters, you hug every Spartan, even Linda… or their legs, since you couldn’t reach anything else. (Thankfully, you telegraph it pretty well, so they don’t accidentally smack you or something.)
John just stiffens and then nods, Fred pats you on the head awkwardly and shuffles away (he was very shocked by the affection), Kelly laughs and claps you on the shoulder, and Linda just hums and pets you on the head like a dog, walking away afterwards.
You go on to be a Marine yourself, finding yourself on the Halo campaign, where Chief and Cortana save you once more. You’re surprised he still remembers you.
You leave a bar of the same brand he gave you at his shrine, giving a heartfelt eulogy and catching up momentarily with the other members of Blue Team before you all leave again.
You almost faint when he shows up at Requiem, though. Don’t feel bad, as Lasky fanboys behind Chief for the whole campaign.
Palmer corrals you and Lasky into a break room to make fun of your behavior after it’s all over.
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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years ago
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Do you think you’ll continue with the lawyer Nessian fic. It was so amazingly written I’d love to read more! I love all your writing anyways I’ll be happy with anything❤️
Ok not *technically* a Drabble request BUT I’m not ready to commit to a full lawyer AU that happens in order however I did just drum up a part 2 that we’ll say is several years before the previous lawyer AU. Nessian teasing in a bar and Rhys being a dumbass.
FYI the lawyer Drabble I’m talking about can be found HERE.
“I’m in love,” Rhys slurred. Cassian, a decent bit bigger than his brother and two drinks behind him, had a gentle buzz so he could only surmise that his brother was well passed sober.
“Congratulations,” Cassian grinned, clapping his hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “May I lay eyes upon the future Mrs. Dumbass.”
Rhys stared at him flatly. Blew a laugh out of his nose. “She’s not marrying you, brother.”
Cassian snorted, casting his eyes around the elegantly decorated little lounge they’d stepped into for the night. Lounge, not bar. Because they were mature adults now looking to take the edge off after a long day of work, not college students looking to get fucked up.
It was different.
It was different because the cocktails cost $20 and were served in actual stemware instead of red solo cups. They were evolving. Growing. Cassian was a lawyer now and Rhys was supposed to be doing actual work for his dad’s company so… no more dive bars.
Now they frequented little lounges where accountants and lawyers and bankers sat in tailored suits and discussed… adult things.
It was all very civilized.
And yet here was his brother. Every bit the horny college student they were trying not to be. Oh well, old dogs and all that.
“End of the bar.” Rhys jerked his head to the left and Cassian grinned.
“Might be a little old for you, champ.”
Rhys wrinkled his brow and turned to look at the grandmother doing a crossword puzzle on the far left side of the bar. A martini glass in front of her. Good for grandma.
“Other end of the bar!”
Cassian smirked. He didn’t need to turn his head, since he’s noticed her the second she walked in, but he still did. Just so he could look some more.
“Ah, you mean the deliciously dishevelled leggy brunette with her suit jacket on the chair beside her who just ripped the pins out of her hair like they personally offended her and then laid them in a neat little pile beside her Kobo?
“Mmm,” Rhys grinned, “I’d like her to rip those fingers through my hair.”
Cassian rolled his eyes. “Go for it, brother.”
Rhys grinned wider. “I think I will.” He straightened up, ran a hair through his artfully mussed hair, and pulled on the lapels of his Gucci suit jacket until they were even again.
Cassian snickered into his Old Fashioned. Rhys could straighten his jacket all he wanted. He could pretend he wasn’t drunk all he wanted. It wouldn’t matter one bit.
Not with Nesta Archeron.
Nesta Archeron who hated men that stunk of trust funds and privilege more than anything else in this world.
This would be fun to watch.
Watch her try to ignore him at first. Eyes glued to the page of her book, hand reaching up to wave through the air like Rhys was an annoying fly she could swat away.
Rhys, to his credit, was a clever little bastard. He asked the bartender for a refill of her drink and set it down in front of her then sat himself one stool down from her.
He didn’t move her jacket to sit next to her, which would have had her going feral. He just sat there, waiting.
After a few moments Nesta let out an exacerbated sigh that Cassian could hear from across the room. There was his girl.
Well, not his girl. Not even a little bit his girl, but… someday.
Cassian decided that he was going to Marry Nesta Archeron the first time she kicked his ass up and down a negotiation meeting. It was a couple years ago now. He’d been young and new at his firm. She was young and new too, but the words learning curve were not in Nesta’s vocabulary. Everything she did, she did with perfection.
Including getting rid of men she didn’t want hitting on her.
She said something to his brother that made Rhys’ half drunk, cocky, smile fall halfway down his face.
Cassian would’ve given his left eye to know what she said in that moment. She had a knack for jumping at the jugular and Rhys… oh Rhys. So obvious.
After a few moments and the continual fall of Rhys’ face, Cassian decided it was time to intervene. He knocked his drink back and straightened out his own suit jacket. Armani, still overpriced and designer but not so obvious or try hard as Mr. Up On The Trends with his Gucci. Nesta appreciated classics.
Simple. Clean lines, solid colours, classic. Which was why it was so fun just how attracted she was to his half wild self.
Unlike Rhys, Cassian plucked Nesta’s light grey suit jacket up off the stool beside her and reached over her head to hang it on a coat hook at the end of the bar. Settling himself into the chair beside her like it was exactly where he belonged. Which it was.
She turned around with an indignant shriek and a fire-breathing snarl that narrowed into just a hard glare when she realized it was him. Touching.
“This guy giving you trouble, Nes?”
Rhys choked on his whiskey and Cassian fought his hardest to keep a straight face.
“I so don’t need your saviour complex right now, Cassian.” Nesta scoffed.
“No,” Rhys rolled his eyes. “She was doing perfectly well scaring off everyone in a 10 mile radius all on her own.”
Nesta smiled sweetly, “I was just playing your game.”
Rhys sputtered again. Looked up at his brother. “This devil woman that you apparently already know,” he glared, “is all yours. I’m going home.”
“Be sure to drink plenty of water!” Nesta sing songed after him. Rhys flipped them both off on his way out.
“What’d you say to him?”
Nesta smiled. A pretty, feline little thing. “He said he wanted to chat. Suggested 20 question, which is the lamest, oldest, crustiest line in the book. So I went first. Asked just how small his dick was that he felt the need to overcompensate with the swagger and the gratuitous displays of wealth. He thought he was quite clever to use his question to ask if I wanted to check for myself how not small his dick was and then I asked if his daddy never loved him and that’s where all of that machismo masking painfully obvious and deep seeded feelings of inadequacy and insecurity came from. I was going to offer him my friend’s number before you showed up. She’s an excellent therapist.”
Cassian laughed. Hard. For a very long time. He loved Rhys, but sometimes the kid could use a nice set down. It was always sweeter when delivered by a beautiful woman. Not to mention, Cassian himself had gotten the same ice cold rejection the first time he met Nesta. When he asked if she wanted to get a coffee and she looked at him like something she’d scraped off the bottom of her shoe. That Rhys was chased off so easily just proved he couldn’t take the heat.
“You know the walking trust fund, I presume?” Nesta boredly sipped the drink Rhys had bought her. And even that was somehow amusing.
“Only for the last couple decades or so,” Cassian grinned. “He’s like a brother to me.”
“Explains a lot.”
“Your insults are more impactful when you clarify which person is being insulted.”
“I was going for the two birds one stone method.”
“In that case, consider me wounded, sweetheart.”
Nesta scoffed, “Unfortunately not mortally.”
“Oh Nesta, if I weren’t here you’d die of boredom and you know it. No one else can run you up and down the courtroom like I can.” Now. Cassian grinned as he watched the word flash across her eyes. He’d never live that first blunder down.
Nesta rose an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume you present any challenge whatsoever.”
Cassian signalled for another drink and leaned forward. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who in this entire city can give you more of a run for your money?”
“Vanserra.” Nesta looked him dead in the eye. And managed to keep a straight face. As if that wasn’t the funniest fucking thing he’d heard all day.
“Oh yes, Nepotism and Nepotism LLP certainly has us all shaking in our boots,” Cassian blew out a breath. “What are you working on now?”
“I’m working on upholding attorney-client privilege.”
“So, the Suncurser merger.”
Nesta looked up. “How did you-”
“Helion and I are old friends. I checked the zoning on the lots he was buying before the merger went ahead to make sure the expansion was even feasible. But, as you know, M&A isn’t my thing. So I may have… given him a referral.”
“Are there any rich playboys in this city that you aren’t friends with?” Nesta finished off her drink and pointedly didn’t signal for another. “And if you think I’m going to be grateful to you for sending this my way you’ve got another thing-“
“Helion is my friend.” Cassian repeated, cutting her off. “He believes in this merger and he wants it done right. You’re the best, Nesta. Why wouldn’t I send him to you?”
“It’s not just to get in my pants?” She narrowed her eyes.
Cassian laughed again. “Oh no, sweetheart. When you invite me into your bed it will have nothing to do with work. It’ll be because you’re tired of denying how much you want me.” Cassian leaned in closer, one hand resting on the back of her chair. “Tired of denying the thrill that shoots through your whole body when we lay into each other. In the court room or out.” His nose brushed against hers, just a little, and Cassian felt Nesta tense up. He smirked, mouth just inches away from hers. “Tired of denying how right this is.”
Nesta’s voice was rough, husky. “So your plan is to wear me down?”
Cassian smirked. “My plan,” his hand came up to stroke the silk covered expanse of her upper arm, “is to marry you, Nesta Archeron. But sure, we can start with wearing you down.”
***Feyre and Nesta look physically similar so you can’t tell me drunk Rhys wouldn’t hit on Nesta in a bar before realizing he’d made a terrible mistake and running away thank you***
Also tags yourself, I’m the grandma doing the crossword puzzle with a martini. She’s an icon and she is the moment.
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tssidesfics · 3 years ago
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Requests: Analogince where they’re human and also single dads? And they all meet because their kids fought and got called to the principals office
Virgil's POV
Upsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you got to raise a beautiful, special boy with a sharp mind. You got to teach him all the coping mechanisms you'd painstakingly learned over the years to cope with his condition and watch as he lit up over the things that brought him joy. You got to watch as he zipped from topic to topic, brighter than the sun, mind racing at a million miles an hour. You got to be the first person to hear about his beautifully creative ideas. You got to have a reason for living, all yours and wonderful, that you didn't have to share with anyone else.
Downsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you had no one else to pass the buck to when he got in trouble at school.
"It'll be fine," I chanted to myself for the billionth time as I turned off the ignition and unbuckled myself, gripping the steering wheel and forcing deep, measured breaths. "It'll be fine. He probably won't get expelled for this. This is his first fight and you don't even know why he got into a fight. You didn't raise a bully, so he was probably defending himself or another kid." Terror clasped me around the throat and squeezed. "But what if you did raise a bully and you didn't realize it, and now you've sentenced your son to a life of crime trying to make up for the hole in his heart where his father should have loved him oh God I broke my son!"
Immediately, my therapist's voice spoke up in my mind. You're catastrophizing again, he said in that obnoxiously aware, gentle way of his. Calm down. Take it one step at a time.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, focusing on the feeling of my stomach and then my chest expanding with air. I let it out through pursed lips, a quiet whistle in the exhale.
I'd played through scenarios like this a million times in my mind. The second Cassie told me, five months pregnant with tears streaming down her cheeks, that she didn't want the baby, I'd prepared myself for any possibility. I'd created contingency plans and contingency plans for my contingency plans, because I knew how much harsher the world would be on him. With a grandparent, his biological mother, and me all with ADHD, there hadn't been any doubt Drew would get it, too, and I'd prepared for that. I'd prepared for the possibility that poor grades and emotional dysregulation would put him on the back foot and even get him expelled. I'd taught him all the coping mechanisms I could. I'd tried to show him as much love and patience as I could muster, and I'd show him the same now. We'd get through this. We would make it through this.
I nodded, resolute, even as doubt and worry niggled at the back of my mind. I'd raised Drew alone, without any support from my parents or Cassie, working a call center job that barely paid enough to live off of. I'd demanded a child psychiatrist the second Drew started displaying symptoms and beat the system for the help he deserved. I'd beat the system for the help I deserved. I was a badass. I was a badass.
I got out of the car.
The two people at the front desk--a woman with strawberry blonde hair and a baby-faced guy--looked over, presumably torn from their conversation, when I walked through the door. The woman swiveled her chair to face me with a friendly smile. "Hello there," she said. "How may I help you?"
I forced myself to look her in the eyes and strained through a smile. If you act like a weirdo, it'll just make things worse for Drew. "Hey," I said. "I'm, uh...Drew Griffith's father. You called me and--"
"Oh!" She gestured to the side, at a door that read: PRINCIPAL MOROZOV. "He's in there."
I looked over and gulped, staring in fear at the door. "Say, uh..." I smiled at the woman as politely as I could. "You wouldn't happen to know the correct social etiquette for talking to the principal after your son gets into a fight at school, would you?"
She gave me a funny look. "Huh?"
"Never mind." I hung my head in defeat and commenced the walk of dread to the front door of the office. The wall facing me was all glass, which meant I could see inside. Two adults, one natural-haired in a polo shirt with his arm around one of the kids in the chair beside him and the other behind a desk, looking stern. I couldn't see the other two kids or any other adults.
And then Principal Morozov spotted me through the glass and shit, I was out of time.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. "Sorry it took me so long," I said, hoping that was the right thing to say. "It was hard getting off work."
"It's all right," Principal Morozov said. "We haven't even reached Mr. Accardo yet."
"Hey, Dad," came the halfhearted voice of Drew, hidden behind a chair too big for him, especially when he slumped in it like that.
I peered over the top and smiled at him softly. "What the heck, kid?" I asked.
"He called Patton a freak." Drew pointed at the kid in the middle, with a busted nose and--oh God.
He had scattered burn marks across the right side of his face, with two differently-colored eyes and a scowl.
"So of course you had to beat me up," the kid sneers. "Because that's a perfectly rational, healthy thing to do."
The third kid--Patton, I presumed--bounced in his seat, humming in distress. His father, a man wearing glasses and a polo shirt with a tie, rubbed his back.
"I don't see why my son has to be here," the other father said, looking at Principal Morozov. "He didn't do anything."
“Patton sits alone at lunch time and doesn’t have any friends,” the principal said. “We think if he tried to get along with his peers better, he’d have a happier time here.”
“Or, you know, you could make an effort to teach your students not to bully kids who are different from them,” I grumbled.
“What was that, Mr. Griffiths?”
I hesitated, glancing up at Principal Morozov, then back at Drew. On one hand, I wanted to lead by example: teach Drew that it was okay to stand up to authority for what he believed. On the other, sometimes, you had to pay lip-service to authority just to stay out of trouble. It was a lesson no child had the mental capacities to understand, but I supposed I’d have to do my best to teach him, because if I gave Principal Morozov cheek, he might expel Drew.
“Nothing, sir,” I said, feeling like a child cowering beneath the glare of my teachers again. I prepared to search for the bullshit in the story I was about to get fed and asked, “What happens now?”
"I'd prefer to wait for Mr. Accardo," the principal said.
"Roman teaches at a high school," the bully grumbled, slouched over with a glare fixated on the desk. "He's probably in the middle of class."
"Then you're going to have to stay after school to address this," Principal Morozov told him sternly.
"Whatever."
I had a very bad feeling about that kid. The scars on his face told a frightening story. He could just as easily be bullied for those as Drew got bullied for his ADHD and Patton for being a loner, which probably meant he turned that abuse outward and attacked others for their perceived differences in a never-ending cycle of abuse.
What? I could be bad at people and have a special interest in human psychology. Those two things were not mutually exclusive.
Suddenly, the door banged open. I jumped out of my skin, clamping a hand over my chest and struggling to breathe levelly, eyes crushed shut and body frozen. Then I heard the babbling.
"I'm sorry!" The principal's door opened. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. The kids were in the middle of rehearsal and--Janus, what happened? I'm so sorry, Mr. Morozov." A frazzled man with warm skin rushed inside and sat down next to the bully--Janus--hastily hugging him and turning his attention to the principal.
I frowned at the scene. I withheld judgment and looked at Principal Morozov as he said, "All right. Now that you're all here, there are going to be some serious consequences to what happened today."
********
"I can't believe you let him give me detention!" Drew whined. "Janus deserved to get punched!"
"And you deserve to die abandoned and unloved in a ditch, steeping in your own feces," Janus snapped.
"Janus," his father, Roman, said firmly, kneeling down and taking him by the shoulders. Janus tried to turn away from him, but Roman lightly shook him and made him meet his eyes. He softened. "I know how much you're hurting, but a hero never redirects his pain onto others. There are other ways."
"What if I don't want to be a hero?" Janus snapped. "What if I want to be the bad guy?"
"I don't believe that," Roman said gently, adjusting his bangs. "I don't think you do, either."
Janus turned from him sharply, crossing his arms and glaring at the asphalt. He sniffled.
Drew glanced up at me in confusion and I rubbed his back. "Sometimes," I said gently, "when people are hurting, they deal with that by hurting other people."
"That's stupid," Drew said with the blunt confidence of a ten-year-old.
"Maybe a little," I agreed, "but humans aren't always logical." Drew wrinkled his nose. "I know. It's so annoying, but it's true. You're not always logical, either. Remember when you burst out crying because your pencil broke?"
"Dad!" Drew turned bright red.
Roman chuckled. "So." He stood up and crossed his arms. "You're the little rascal who dared challenge Janus to a duel for--Patton, right?" He looked at Mr. Davis--or Logan, as he'd introduced himself--who nodded. "You're the rascal who challenged Janus to a duel for Patton's honor," Roman finished.
"He was being an asshole," Drew protested.
"I'd say it's not my fault he uses that language," I said through a wince, "but it's definitely my fault he uses that language."
"I'm the same way with Janus, don't worry." Roman chuckled--a low, rumbly sound. He turned back to Drew. "You're got a paladin's heart and a temper. I was a lot like you when I was a kid."
Drew snorted. "You think you're cute, don't you?"
"He's always like this," Janus said, shoving in front of Roman. "He thinks it's so inspiring to talk about heroes all the time, like fairy tales are the best thing ever."
"That's gotta be annoying," Drew said, wrinkling his nose.
"It is." Janus stopped and scowled. "Don't relate to me!"
"Ew! You're a jerk! Get away from me!"
I exchanged a fond, exasperated look with Roman, who chuckled and squeezed Janus' shoulder. "Hey," he said, "maybe, if you apologized, you could have a friend."
"I don't want to apologize."
"So you'd rather another kid think you're a horrible person!"
Janus hesitated a moment before straightened his back. "Yes."
"I don't believe that."
I glanced over at Logan and saw that he was busy talking to Patton, kneeling on the ground and smoothing his hands over his shoulders in measured strokes. It seemed to soothe Patton. I looked at Drew.
"You know how it sometimes hurts you when you think about your Aunt Cassie?" I said softly, pulling him into my side as the shadow washed over his face.
"He called Patton a freak, Dad," Drew argued. "He's not even really my friend, but he's not a freak. He's just...different. Like me."
"I know, kiddo," I said, squeezing him against my side. "You don't have to give him a chance. He hasn't asked forgiveness, and you wouldn't owe him one even if you did. I just know you don't like to see people struggling alone."
Drew hesitated.
I looked over at Logan. "How's Patton?"
Logan glanced back at me, then looked at Patton. "Do you want to answer?"
Patton hesitated.
"It's okay," I said, not looking at his face. Patton hadn't made eye contact with a single person, including his father, since I'd met him. He clearly had more trouble with it than I did, and I wasn't always a huge fan. "I'm autistic, too."
Patton immediately perked up. "Really?"
"Yeah." I smiled, looking over the top of his head. I looked at Drew. "Can I tell him about you?"
"I'm ADHD," Drew told him, turning to him. "I got diagnosed last year."
"Oh cool!" Patton flapped his hands at his sides and bounced eagerly. "I don't, I don't think, because I'm actually pretty good at focusing most of the time and I have a really good memory, but Dad says autism and ADHD are really close together. It's really nice to meet someone else! I don't have many friends."
"Well, I guess you have me," Drew said. "I didn't get in trouble defending you for nothing."
Patton squealed and continued stimming enthusiastically. Drew offered a hug, which Patton considered for a long moment before accepting.
Logan smiled softly at the exchange and looked over to me. "You've raised a very kind son."
"More than half of it is all him," I said. "I do the best I can, but...I'm just one person. He's probably gonna hate me once he's a teenager."
"Nuh-uh!" Drew objected, charging over to embrace me around the middle. I smiled and hugged him close, squeezing him as tight as was safe. He grunted.
I caught Janus staring at us. I couldn't read his expression. He was glaring, but I had a feeling it wasn't anger. But clearly, Roman did understand it, because he knelt down and hugged him close, even when he tried to push him away. He just held fast. I thought for sure Janus would react badly--he hadn't wanted to be held, what was wrong with Roman?--but then he slowly relaxed and leaned against him. I still couldn't read him very well, but that...didn't look particularly resigned.
"You know," Roman said, pulling back after a long while, "I bet Drew and Patton would be willing to forgive you if you really, really earnestly apologized."
Janus shoved away from him, crossing his arms and glaring at the ground. "I don't want to apologize."
Roman sighed heavily, and Drew whirled on him. "You're such a freaking jerk!" he screamed. "What's wrong with you? Why do you have to be a jerk to everyone? I tried to be your friend and you just spit on me!"
"I don't want your pity!"
"It wasn't pity!"
"It's always pity!" Janus screeched. "You think I don't know what these scars make me? You think I don't know I'm a freak? If the fire didn't teach me that, then my parents sure did! I'm nothing! The only reason anyone would be nice to me is pity and I don't want anyone's pity! I just want to be left alone!"
Janus turned and ran. Roman chased after him frantically, never sparing Logan or I a glance.
Drew and Patton stood stunned. Drew looked at Patton, who stared at his forehead. "Well..." he said. "What the heck am I supposed to do now?"
Patton ran in the direction of Janus.
At that point, about the only thing for Drew and I to do was chase after his new friend, hot on the heels of his father.
We found Patton with his backpack unzipped, standing beside Janus' car door, already buckled in with Roman partway into the driver's seat, holding out a picture of a flower.
"It's ivy," Patton said. "It means friendship."
Janus stared at him through the window, unmoving. Patton, to my shock, held his gaze for one, two moments and then averted his eyes. Logan hurried over to hold him, clearly expecting Janus to reject him again.
Janus opened the car door. "Why would you want to be my friend?"
"He didn't say he wanted to be your friend," Drew sneered. "He just said it meant friendship, dummy."
"Drew," I chided softly, and he recoiled into my side.
"Because it's nice to know I'm not the only one who can't make any friends," Patton said. "I like having other friends who are special."
"I'm not special," Janus snapped.
"Dad says that being different is always special, because different people have discovered some of the coolest, prettiest things ever."
"It's true," Logan said. "Albert Einstein, Hans Christian Anderson, and Michelangelo. were all autistic."
"See?" Patton bounced and beamed at Janus. "So maybe we can all be different and special together and do really cool things one day! Like the three Musketeers."
Janus considered strongly. "I'm Athos."
"You can be whoever you want to be!" Patton said earnestly. "Then we can all have lots of musketcheer."
Drew, Roman and I choked on a laugh. Logan shook his head fondly. "He watches one sitcom that likes puns and he suddenly won't stop," he said.
Even Janus cracked a small smile. He accepted the paper. "Fine," he said. "We can have musketcheer."
Drew pouted. "Does this mean I'm your friend now?"
"Yes," Patton said firmly, looking at him.
Drew jumped, looking fearfully at Patton, who somehow managed to look intimidating while also avoiding eye contact. He looked up at me. "What have I done?" he asked.
"Made friends." I rubbed his back. I looked around. "We should probably get all these guys home. They've had a long day, and school will be letting out soon."
"I guess now that all our kids are friends, I'll be seeing more of you," Roman said to both Logan and me.
Logan hummed. "I presume so. Patton does not own a phone of his own. I can give you my number if your children wish to contact him?"
"I hate to say it, but you should probably get him his own phone," I said. "It's dangerous not to have one. If I ever lost sight of Drew...I'd rather he have a phone."
Logan considered this. "I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, for the moment, you'll have to go through me to reach Patton."
"Don't have to ask me twice. Here." Roman accepted Logan's phone and typed in Janus' number, then passing it to Drew, who stared at it for a moment.
I recited his number to him and he punched it in. "Don't worry, kid," I said. "One day, you're going to have to tell so many doctors your number that it's going to be emblazoned on your brain."
After all numbers had been exchanged, I shook Logan's and Roman's hands goodbye and let Patton and Drew embrace again. Janus stayed stubbornly in his seat, refusing any sort of affection, which kind of concerned me, but then Roman whispered, "This is the most receptive he's been since I started fostering him."
I nodded and smiled, leading Drew back toward the car. He looked at me. "I guess I have friends now."
I glanced back toward Roman's car as it drove away and caught Logan's eye as he loaded into his own. He smiled at me.
"Yeah," I said. "I think I might have, too."
123 notes · View notes
lostinthewiind · 3 years ago
Text
Piss Off Your Parents - Part 4
Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu
Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.
Rating: Mature
Warnings: mentions sexual experiences of reader before she was of age, discussion about sex lives, flirting, touching 
Song → 18 by Anarbor
Previous →Part 3
Next →Part 5
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Head resting in your hand and elbow resting on the counter, you huffed, still not used to the heat that accumulated in the store throughout the day and praying for just one customer to walk through the door so you could experience a refreshing blast of evening air. You supposed you could go outside yourself to cool off a little, like Keishin had previously suggested in lieu of sticking your head in one of the fridges, but being the only person at the store currently, you felt a little bad about leaving the building, even if it was just to step out front.
You were still trying your best to put on a good impression for Mrs. Sakanoshita—despite the rough first impression you had made on her son—and you knew the family store was precious, so you decided to suck it up for the remainder of your shift.
Without much to do, since you had completed your chores early, you remained seated at the front counter, bored out of your mind. That was, until your prayers were answered and you heard the front doors slide open.
“Hello!” you greeted happily, ready to welcome a customer. Your radiant excitement faded when you noticed it was just Keishin, however, and went back to slumping on the counter. “Oh, it’s just you.”
“Wow, those rapid mood changes must be why we’ve been so busy lately,” Keishin shot back at you, a cigarette hanging from his mouth like usual. “Will the girl behind the counter smile or frown at you? Maybe it’ll be both. Oh, how exciting!”
“Can it, dye job,” you grumbled.
Keishin feigned hurt, his hand resting over his chest dramatically as he pretended to have been shot. “Words hurt, you know. You’ve hurt me.”
“That doesn’t matter,” you told him, lazily gesturing around the empty store. “What does matter is that we’ve been dead for hours and I’m bored.”
Keishin poked his bottom lip out and faked a pout. “Awh, poor baby. Is getting paid to sit there and do nothing hard work? You must be exhausted. Poor thing.”
“I don’t get paid nearly enough to put up with you.” You reached across the counter to lightly smack his shoulder but he jumped out of the way just in time. “Seriously though, stay and entertain me for a while.”
“If you’re that bored, why don’t you dust the vents or something?”
You laid your head down on the counter and exhaled slowly for effect. “You know I aim to please but that sounds like hell. Can’t you just talk to me for like ten minutes? Tell me about your day or something.”
Keishin threw his head back and groaned loudly. “But I’m too hungry to think about anything other than food right now.”
“I’m hungry too but you don’t see me complaining about it.”
“No, you’re just complaining about everything else.” He leaned against the other side of the counter, his tongue flicking against the tip of his cigarette as he thought. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”
You glanced up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I doubt it but proceed.”
Done with your constant back talk, which was extremely common between the two of you ever since you had worked out your differences and agreed to the deal he had suggested, he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly into your face. “Just shut up and listen, will you?”
You coughed when you accidentally inhaled the second-hand smoke. “If I get cancer and die, I’m haunting you.”
“Go ahead.” He didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving your mouth as he headed into the back room and shut off the store lights. Then, with his own set of keys in hand, he headed back toward the front of the store. “Come on.” He looked back at you expectantly when you didn’t immediately follow.
Confused, you slowly stepped around from the back of the counter. “Where are we going?”
“We’re closing up early and going to get something to eat.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, half of you wondering if this was some sort of employee test to see how responsible you were. “Are we allowed to do that?”
“I am, you aren’t,” Keishin said, beckoning you over to him. “But let’s just keep this between you and I, yeah? What my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, it’s slow anyway.”
Taking off your white apron and grabbing your things, you reluctantly followed the older man out of the store and watched as he locked up behind the two of you. Anxiously, you shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble for this?”
“I promise I won’t tell on you,” Keishin assured you as he stuffed the keys back into his pocket and dropped his cigarette bud to the ground before crushing it with his foot. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
Falling into pace beside Keishin as the two of you set off down the sidewalk, you following his lead, you weren’t sure exactly sure what to say or even if you should say something. Never before had you and Keishin existed outside of the store together and it felt a little awkward. 
“So . . . is this like a date or something?” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. What you had meant to come across as a casual inquiry ended up sounding more like a desperate girl clarifying what she meant to the boy she liked. You sounded like a child.
The corners of Keishin’s mouth curled upward and he shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.” He really didn’t seem to care one way or another. “Although, I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I didn’t take you out at least once . . . fake or not.”
You nearly choked on your spit at the use of the word ‘boyfriend’. Even though you had been pretending to date him for the purposes of changing your parents’ ideals for the past few weeks, you were still caught off guard every time Keishin referred to himself as your boyfriend—even though he was usually doing it to mock you. 
“Yeah, just awful,” you agreed halfheartedly. “Where are we going anyway?”
“This little place that I like,” he said, his answer extremely vague until he continued. “Best ramen I’ve ever had.”
After a few more minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the place Keishin was talking about and he ordered two take-out bowls and paid for them both, insisting that you should try his regular order since you had never been there before. Not wanting to disagree because he was footing the bill, you let him do what he wanted and tailed him out to a picnic table outside like an obedient puppy. 
“It’s much too hot to eat inside,” Keishin reasoned as he plopped down on the opposite side of the picnic table from you. “Plus, it’s nice outside. Might as well enjoy the weather while it lasts, right?”
“Right.” You nodded.
While Keishin dug right into his meal, you sat still, hands in your lap, and watched him. One thing you had quickly come to realize was that Keishin was the perfect specimen for people watching, and not just because he was relatively easy on the eyes. He was an interesting person; for example, how he tucked half-smoked cigarettes behind his ear to smoke later or how he always wore a headband to keep his hair out of his face but vehemently refused to just cut his damn hair. 
Even though you bugged him about cutting his hair all the time, you secretly hoped he would continue to stand his ground and refuse because you wanted to see what he looked like with his hair down. You also wanted to run your hands through his hair—it looked soft and fluffy—but that was besides the point.
“Hey, it’s gonna get cold,” Keishin snapped you out of your thoughts, his mouth half full of ramen as he jabbed his chopsticks in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t like ramen. You should have said something before I ordered for both of us.”
Snapping out of your daze, you picked up your chopsticks and shook your head. “No, I like ramen.” You took a bite to prove your point. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”
Keishin waited for you to eat a little more before digging for your consensus. “Good, right?”
“Yeah, really good,” you agreed. “I always walk past this place but I’ve never gone inside.”
“I was the same way. It doesn’t really catch your eye, so unless you’re looking for it, it’s easy to miss,” he said. “Then one day my grandpa took me here for my birthday and I’ve been coming ever since.”
You snickered. “Popular date spot then?”
Keishin cocked a brow. “What?”
“I mean, if you come here a lot, I’m sure it’s a go-to for dates,” you continued. “It even comes with a wholesome story about how your grandpa introduced you to it. Ultimate chick magnet.”
Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. “You know, contrary to popular belief, most girls don’t like it when you take them out to eat cheap ramen on a picnic table that’s falling apart.”
You chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the table, but I’m pretty sure I have at least ten splinters in my ass by now.”
“Yeah, this thing is torture. So eat fast and then we’ll move to the park across the street or something.”
Shoveling the rest of your food into your mouth, you ate fast while Keishin stared you down, every second that passed introducing your butt to a new world of pain. As soon as you were done, Keishin took both of your take-out bowls and tossed them into a nearby trashcan.
“Well, sucks for all those other girls then, because that ramen really is amazing,” you said when Keishin returned, the two of you crossing the street and heading into the park. 
“Told you.” Keishin smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”
Once in the park, which was empty considering it was dark out and most kids were in bed by then, the two of you picked a nearby bench that wasn’t splintering and took a seat. 
Drawing your knees up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs and sighed. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Yeah, no problem.” He let his head fall back and looked up at the night sky. “Damn, I could really go for an ice cold beer right now.”
“Well, we could start heading back now if you want,” you suggested. “The beers at the store are extra chilly since I didn’t stick my head in the fridges to cool off today, despite how sweltering it was.”
Keishin laughed. “Well, thank you for that,” he drew in a deep breath and relaxed into the bench, deciding whether to get up or not. “Let’s stay here for a while longer though.”
“Okay.”
Silence fell over the two of you as you stared up at the sky and listened to the sounds of Miyagi in the evening. You tried to remember the last time you had gone out like this—just going wherever you wanted and doing whatever you wanted. You couldn’t recall the last time . . . or even if there was a last time.
Tilting your head to look at Keishin, you smiled at the sight of him sitting with his eyes closed, arms crossed behind his head and head lolled back. He looked happy, almost as peaceful as he did when he was sleeping.
“Hey,” you whispered.
Keishin cracked an eye open to look at you. “Hmm?”
“Thanks for tonight.” You breathed in the scent of the night air and a feeling of content washed over you. “As you’ve probably already figured out, I don’t really have any friends. I don’t get to go out like this very often . . . or ever, really.”
“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”
You giggled. “Well, considering you’re not my real boyfriend, I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”
“Well, you’re welcome,” he caved. “Speaking of fake boyfriends, how’s it going with your parents?”
You let out a frustrated moan. “Oh, about as well as expected. When I mentioned I was seeing someone they bombarded me with a million questions, none of which were answered to their satisfaction.”
Keishin cringed. “So I’m that bad, huh?”
You scoffed. “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen their faces when I showed them a photo of you.”
Keishin let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me they weren’t fans of the piercings?”
“Oh, they weren’t fans of anything,” you said. “I think the only positive thing they could say about you was that you had a pulse . . . no offense.”
“Eh, no worries. At least they didn’t call me a burnout . . . then I would have started crying.”
“Hey!” You smacked at his shoulder again, managing to hit your target this time. “I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t pay for my therapy.”
“Yeah, well, if you need therapy I doubt I’m the biggest reason.”
“You really are so cruel to me. Do your parents know you facilitate abusive relationships?”
You closed your eyes and shook your head. “That insinuates I’ve had past relationships, or any real ones.”
Keishin craned his neck to look at you, eyes wide. “Wait, you’ve never been in a relationship before? Like never?”
“Nope. I don’t even have any friends, so what makes you think anyone wants to date the boring girl with the crazy parents?”
Keishin looked at you like you were some wounded animal he had just found on the side of the road. You could see in his eyes he was slowly coming to terms with just how isolating your life was. You could tell he felt bad, but the last thing you wanted was his sympathy.
“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” you told him. “I’m not completely pathetic, okay? I still went through my experimental phase like most teenagers do. I just had to be very sneaky about it.”
“Sneaky?”
“You know, back of a car, other people’s houses when their parents were gone. As far as my parents know, I’m untainted . . . a precious, naive virgin. I’m just not very experienced.”
“I can imagine.” Keishin was a little thrown by the direction the conversation had taken, but you were both adults and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious, so he just rolled with it. “High school boys aren’t exactly known for being great in bed.”
The two of you let out a shared laugh at that. “You got that right,” you agreed. 
“So, wait, no relationships but you’ve had sex? So you’ve never been with someone you have a genuine connection with?”
You eyed Keishin, perplexed by the sudden sincerity in his words. “You didn’t peg me as someone who cares about that kind of stuff.”
“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands, sure, but I’m not completely heartless,” he said, the eye contact he was using while he spoke sending a chill down your spine. “It’s completely different when it’s someone you care about. The experience is something everyone should have at least once in their lives.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a genuine connection with anyone before,” you confessed, unsure why you were spilling some of your deepest secrets in public, on a park bench, to a man you had only known for a couple of months. “It’s kind of hard when everyone is held at an arm’s length away.”
Without warning, Keishin shifted closer to you and placed his hand on your face, the pad of his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.
“It’s not sad, not for me at least. You can’t miss something you’ve never had,” you spoke softly, worried you might scare him away if your voice was too loud or if you made any sudden movements. “No best friends, no boyfriends. Just me, my parents, and everyone else.”
Keishin looked like he wanted to say something; in fact, he looked like he wanted to say a lot of things, but despite this, he remained silent. Maybe he was worried about offending you, or maybe he was finally understanding just how different you were from other people. Maybe he didn’t like different. 
“But now there’s you.” You flashed a small smile, hoping to draw him out of whatever mess was going on inside of his head. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”
“Someone like me?” he finally spoke.
You nodded as you placed your hand over the one he was resting on your cheek and held it. “I’m not your responsibility and yet you’re going out of your way to help me. Not to mention I don’t even deserve your help. You are the first truly selflessly kind person I’ve ever met. Thank you.”
“What if I’m not as kind as you think I am?” His hands found their way to your waist and he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. “What will you do then?”
“That depends on what you’re planning on doing.”
Hands running up your sides, Keishin dug his finger tips into your skin as you lowered your head toward his, mouths inches apart. “What if I took you home, laid you down, and took care of you like a boyfriend should?” You could feel his hot breath on your face as he spoke. “What if I took advantage of your lack of experience?”
“I would say thank you,” you said, inching closer. Before your lips met, however, you stopped yourself. “But I promised not to fall in love, and I think it would be awfully hard to keep my promise if you did that.” With that, you planted your hands on his shoulders and pushed yourself away from him before he could make a decision he would later regret. 
Standing up, you collected yourself and drew in a deep breath. As soon as you had detached yourself from Keishin, you could see the fog that had been clouding his judgement dissipating as he came back to his senses. 
“I should probably head home now.” You decided, not wanting to ruin the first actual friendship you had by doing something stupid and selfish. 
“Yeah.” Keishin nodded, slowly standing up as well. It was clear he was slightly embarrassed by his actions, but you also noticed the glint in his eyes that gave away the part of him that still wanted to take you home with him. 
Trying to immediately leave what had just happened in the past, you smiled and turned to start heading home, opting to take the longer way so you wouldn’t have to take the same route as Keishin. “Good night, Keishin.”
“Good night, Y/N.” You heard him call after you, but you didn’t look back at him. Instead, you kept walking, hoping the time apart would serve as a reset on your relationship and put things back to how they had been before that night.
A few weeks ago, you would have jumped at the chance Keishin had dangled in front of your face just now. But since then, you had realized he was more important to you than someone you could just throw away with a one night stand. And since there was no way the two of you could actually be together, this was the only option if you didn’t want to lose him.
If only someone had warned you that genuine connections were this complicated. 
195 notes · View notes
redorich · 4 years ago
Note
(Hermit Canyon AU)
Eventually, the Hermit seems to get attached to Puffy. It makes sense- it's been trading gifts with her for months now, and has even shown itself to her a few times, albeit while invisible.
The other SMPers don't think much of it at first. The more curious members ask Puffy questions about The Hermit sometimes, but she knows little, so they quickly give up. Occasionally someone will try to explore the ridiculously trapped town, but they give up once it's obvious they're not getting in.
The trades grow more and more valuable, and one day Puffy opens her barrel to find a beacon, and enough iron to fully power it. She's stunned, naturally. To think the Hermit is so capable it can kill a Wither just to give a beacon away- she can barely believe it.
(In actuality, they cheesed it on the Nether roof, but she doesn't know that)
She does try to hide it, but word gets around, and after another few failed raids on the town (and some rumours that the Hermit can teleport), things settle down again, as much as they can on the SMP.
Then someone steals Puffy's beacon. {You decide who, because I. don't actually watch DSMP, admittedly.}
Puffy, naturally, is devestated- she can't imagine the work the Hermit put into getting it for her in the first place (the most time-consuming thing was getting the Wither skulls, and it wasn't even that bad). But there's not really much she can do, so she carries on.
Except, the next day, the thief wakes up to find their house full of chickens, Puffy's beacon missing, and every single empty space in their chests filled with strategically renamed light grey stained glass panes.
They go outside to find the entire contents of a cave spider spawner on their front lawn. Alongside a ravager. With speed potions. Renamed Pamela's Revenge.
(Cue half the SMP trying to find out who Pamela is)
Puffy, meanwhile, wakes to find her beacon back in its rightful place, and a beautifully terraformed garden outside her house (Scar accidentally detonated a creeper and naturally had to fix the hole...and then went a little overboard. But it's fine.)
op i want you to know that i considered just posting your ask, because it’s already So Good and practically a fic on its own, but i really wanted even more content so i wrote it myself. ANYWAY here’s sapnap’s terrible horrible no good very bad day xD
It’s risky, doing anything on the wide open Nether roof where anyone can see. Hell, using a beacon at all is risky for the Hermits. Still, they’ve got all sorts of farms and copious amounts of materials at their fingertips. They’re past early game, stuck in mid-game while they wait for Etho to scope out more locations, while they build the second Upside Down (which Grian has named the Upside-ier Down), while they build their joint bases miles out from civilization. 
Having a beacon would make the process faster, they reason to themselves. They certainly aren’t risking being discovered just because they’re bored and getting a beacon is an excuse to do something. And hell, Tango made that giant, super-efficient wither skeleton skull farm right next to his double blaze spawner farm, so they might as well mass-produce Nether stars by killing multiple Withers. It’s not that difficult.
On another note, it’s after they gift Puffy one of their many beacons, in addition to a kit of iron blocks for powering the beacon that the Hermits realize that while their gifts are increasing in expense, Puffy’s are... not. So, if Puffy’s around average in the Dream SMP economy, they’ve figured out where most players meet their limit. She hasn’t stopped dropping by, though, which is nice. Her gifts become increasingly handmade, in lieu of upping the ante on material wealth. The Hermits suppose that hand-crafted items have a value that extends past money. Each and every one of them has something that she’s made for them, whether it be a shawl, a blanket, a set of earrings, a bracelet, or a pair of socks.
Apparently the beacon is more of a Big Deal than the Hermits thought. After all, the rainbow castle has several. However, the Hermits realize that they’ve been shortsighted. While it is true that the rainbow castle has several beacons, the castle is the only place that they’ve seen any beacons.
Sapnap steals the beacon. He doesn’t particularly need it, but he wants it, and stealing is fun. Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll even start another minor war over it. He hasn’t fought Puffy very much. He wonders if she can put up a good fight.
Puffy’s-- not distraught, but she’s upset. That was a gift from the Hermit, a friend who she’s been pulling out of its shell. She doesn’t have much use for a beacon, but then again, neither does Sapnap; he’s just a dick. Just in case, Puffy leaves a note with the rest of the items she leaves in her barrel:
Dear Hermit,
I’m very sorry for losing the beacon you gave me. I made the mistake of keeping it in a normal chest instead of an Ender chest, so Sapnap stole it. I should have seen that coming. I’ll try to get it back, but if I don’t, please know that I didn’t throw it away.
Thank you,
Puffy.
Sapnap wakes up in the middle of a lake. His mattress is floating, and when he tries to paddle back to shore (once he’s done screaming), the mattress tips over and he receives an unpleasant fishy wakeup call. He trudges into his house for a shower, and finds that the showerhead, as well as all his faucets, have been stuffed with ramen noodle seasoning. 
He looks in his chests for a bucket of water. The first chest he checks is not only full of light gray glass, but also trapped. When he opens it, pufferfish fall out of the ceiling and bounce around. He dies to their poison twice before they finally die. The next chest he opens also has light gray glass, no water buckets, and a trap. This one, though, only releases a metric fuckton of chickens into his house. It’s fine. This is fine.
As he looks through his chests, he realizes something. They’ve got glass in them, sure, and they’ve been raided of water buckets, but... the beacon is gone. None of his other items, like enchanted netherite tools or literal diamond blocks, have been stolen. Just Puffy’s beacon.
Whoever pranked him missed a bucket, so he promptly dumps it over his head in an effort to smell less like pond scum and spicy chicken noodles. It takes the whole day to get his base back in order: he’s got to clean out all the faucets, empty all the glass from his chests, throw out all the dead pufferfish, and slaughter chickens by the dozens.
He can’t sleep. Are you fucking kidding. He can’t sleep. A soft hiss catches his attention, only audible now that the quiet of night has fallen. Is there somehow an unlit cave under his base?
Nope. As he steps outside onto his front lawn, he sees a daylight detector near the door that he missed when he came inside this morning. The daylight detector seems to have released approximately fifteen bajillion cave spiders onto his lawn, and they’re all angry, so he shuts the front door in their faces and goes back inside. That’s a problem for tomorrow’s him.
Horns spear the wall right next to where Sapnap was standing five seconds ago. He yelps. What the fuck is a ravager doing on his front porch? And why the FUCK does it have speed potion particles?!
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Sapnap hit the ground too hard whilst trying to escape Pamela’s Revenge>
<Sapnap was slain by Cave Spider>
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Georgenotfound> who is pamela’s revenge
<Sapnap> ;RVAER
<Sapnap> HELP
<Sapnap> RAVEAGER
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Georgenotfound> good night sapnap :)
<Sapnap> GEORGE OYU BITCH HLEP ME
<Sapnap was slain by Pamela’s Revenge>
<Georgenotfound> zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
-------
Puffy sees a whole lot of nonsense in the chat when she wakes up in the morning, and promptly decides to ignore it. She goes about her morning as usual, heading out to her front porch to sip a cup of coffee in peace. 
She... has a garden now. Hm. That wasn’t there before. And come to think of it, neither was the beacon she lost.
“Thanks, Hermit,” she says with a smile.
-------
Stress sips a cup of tea, having breakfast in Grian’s rustic sitting room with a few of her fellow Hermits.
“D’ya think we went overboard?” she says.
“...Nah,” Cub says.
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spnsisterimagines · 3 years ago
Text
Mario Kart
Summary - Y/N decides to engage her brothers and Castiel into Mario Kart, not realizing what she was getting herself into.
Pairings - Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader, Jack Kline x Platonic!Winchester!Reader, Castiel x Winchester!Reader
Word Count - 1,911 words
"Let's get it!" Y/N squeals, claiming her spot on the middle of the couch. She was practically bouncing up and down, waiting impatiently for everyone to join her. The Dean Cave had brightened considerably since she had added a few redecorations. While Dean initially denied her, she had forced him to allow her to put up LED lights, several polaroids from her camera(they were mostly of herself smiling widely at the camera while Sam and Dean looked mildly annoyed with fake smiles. There was also a real funny one where Sam was unconscious on a hunt and Y/N decided to pose beside him), as well as posters from their favorite bands. Not to mention the added dock to the TV stand to hold her Nintendo Switch that Sam had bought her for her previous birthday. 
She supposed he regretted it now, since she was forcing him to play a game he'd never even heard of.
He entered the room first, holding a big bowl of popcorn and a soda. Dean followed close behind, Little Debbie packages hanging from his mouth since his arms were occupied with pillows from their bedrooms and a pack of beers for himself. Jack was the only one to come empty handed. He happily took the spot beside Y/N, waving merrily as Castiel also appeared with two sodas(both of them for Beth because he was just so considerate), taking the spot on her other side.
"I'll give this an hour before we switch to movie night, Y/N," Dean warned as he occupied his armchair, which was to the left of the couch. She had discovered this old thing at a garage sale. It had been a rather stressful day because Dean had refused to strap it to Baby and they had to hound what little friends they had for a truck. Since most of their friends were dead, Y/N had hot wired one outside of a bar and returned it before the drunk redneck inside could notice it had even left. She was sure the dent in the bed was there before they put the couch on it. Sam had not been happy about that.
Sam took his own armchair, which was to the right of the couch. 
"What is it, again?" he asked curiously. 
"Is the only thing in the media you've ever heard Facebook? You've seriously never heard of Mario Kart?" Y/N asked, happily accepting one of the sodas from Castiel. "Dad really did a number on us. I was introduced to this through Charlie." She got up to grab the number of controllers necessary for four. Jack was eager to try the game, but he was always open to trying new things, something Y/N could appreciate.
After connecting them to the Switch, she handed them out to her brothers along with Jack before returning to her spot on the couch between the angel and nephilim. 
"If I remember correctly from what you've told me, it's a racing game, right?" Castiel asked.
"Exactly, except with a few quirks to make it interesting. Like, um...I could throw a shell and hit one of them and vice versa. Or a banana peel. I'll give them a trial run before we actually get into it. Are you sure you don't want to try it, Cas?"
Castiel shook his head. "I have seen how you play with Charlie, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of your anger. And I rather like watching you in your element."
Y/N smiled, blushing, before playfully pushing him. 
"I need to get drunk to stomach this," Dean said, offended as he popped one of the beers open and took a gulp. "Keep the PDA to a minimum guys, you've got a kid next to you. Alright, what buttons do I push to hit Sam?"
"What the hell?" Sam scoffed. 
"What?"
"We haven't even started and you're gunnin' for me?"
"Uh, yeah!" 
"Alright, alright! First we gotta pick our player," Y/N mediated, pressing the buttons to get them to the screen full of Mario players. "I already got mine." She moved her icon until it landed on Wendy, before selecting her. "Obviously the best character, hands down."
The three boys maneuvered their icons over different characters, for some reason taking it a little too seriously on who they would choose. Sam selected his first. 
"Luigi?" Dean scoffed.
"You got a problem?" Sam asked. 
"No, but...why Luigi?"
"Who cares, I just chose him."
"You have to have a reason, man." Dean shook his head, before selecting his own. 
"Why'd you choose Bowser, then?"
"Because he's a badass. And he'd beat the holy hell out of Luigi if the games lost their PG rating," Dean shrugged.
Jack hummed thoughtfully, still scrolling. "I choose him!" 
He selected Toad. 
"Why him, Jack?" she asked. 
"I like his hat."
Y/N snorted, but it was a valid enough answer. Once everyone was ready, she selected the settings for the game and then decided to use the time to explain to them how the controls worked and anything else they were curious about. After a few trial races, they were ready for the real thing. Castiel was sitting patiently, his hands on his lap. 
"You assholes are going down," Dean declared, bringing his remote closer to him. 
"So much for being appropriate in front of the kid," Y/N sneered, but she was just as ready.
She set the game to go through ten races with a random select for the roads. 
And with that, they were off.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Dean yelled, nearly jumping to his feet. His first empty beer bottle slide across the floor from his rapid movement. "I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH IT! I DIDN'T GO NEAR THE GODDAMN PEEL!"
"That might've been mine," Sam stated, smugly. "But Bowser also takes up half the road, so avoiding it was probably impossible anyway."
Dean squinted. "You callin' me fat, Sammy?"
Sam shrugged. "Luigi's doing just fine."
Y/N hid her smile as she hit her own item, snatching that smile right from Sam's face.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, incredulous, the red shell sending Luigi off the edge of the map. 
"You got in my way!" Y/N sang. 
It only seemed to get worse from there. What was supposed to be an hour of playing turned into four with the bowl of popcorn thrown across the room at Dean when he had decided to hit Sam three times with three separate shells before snagging first place and doing a lewd dance as a way to declare his victory. Y/N's hair had bristled up, becoming bushier almost as though it were alive. Her right eye was twitching, and her hands were cramping by now. 
Jack, however, was having a good time. He has gotten last place the entire time, but he was still having fun, and that's what truly mattered.
Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, not knowing whose side he should take because all three Winchester siblings were completely out of their minds, including Y/N.
Finally, it was the last race. Everyone's nerves were shot. Sam's hair seemed even more raggedy than Y/N's, and his shirt was stained with soda because Dean decided to take vengeance by chucking his pillow at him when Sam was taking a big gulp. They had to pause the game for several minutes while Sam fought for his life coughing and wheezing because the soda went down the wrong pipe.
"I'm afraid I must at least attempt to deter you guys from participating in another race. There aren't any weapons in the Dean Cave, but I'm sure you three will find a way to kill each other," Castiel said, worried. "Jack, are you okay?"
Jack nodded enthusiastically. "I'm having fun!"
"I will let it be known if I lose, someone is dying tonight. I will call Billie to fix it, but someone has to die tonight if I lose," Y/N threatened. 
"Good luck with that, I'm kicking all of your asses, and you can kiss mine when it crosses the finish line," Dean said.
"I don't even care if I win, as long as you guys lose. And I'll make sure it happens." Sam jeered. 
With that, the race began. Aside from Jack and Castiel, everyone was bloodthirsty. Surely no matter who won, someone was gonna be pissed off. Castiel was making a mental note to grab Jack as soon as possible and escort him out of the room while the siblings brawled. 
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Y/N shouted, jumping to her feet. "WHO DID IT! WHO DID IT?"
"I did!" Sam happily announced, moving to and fro with the turn of his controller, as though he were in the game himself. 
"I'm gonna get you, Sam," Y/N snarled, pressing hard on the buttons, trying her best to catch up to her brother, collecting any items she came across, but none of them were good enough, so she kept using them without thinking until she heard Dean curse and also jump to his feet. 
"THAT WAS ME, JACKASS!" he yelled, completely distraught. "I didn't even do anything this time!"
"You probably deserved it anyway!" Sam shrugged, continuing to maneuver through the AIs to get to the front. 
By that time, Dean and Y/N had caught up, and with all they had, they used their items to completely screw each other over up until every kart had passed them. In the end, they were the bottom three with Sam first, Y/N second, and Dean in dead last. And for a moment there after, nobody said anything. They were completely beside themselves in utter shock at what just occurred. 
"What just happened?" Y/N asked, deflating considerably. 
"We lost..." Sam mumbled. 
"Screw you guys, I lost overall!" Dean scoffed.
"I won!" Jack suddenly cheered, leaping to his feet and jumping up and down. "I won!"
"You what?" Y/N asked, shocked as her eyes trailed to the top. Sure enough, Toad was in first place. "You're kidding!"
"I can't believe I won!" Jack said, smiling as he high-fived a proud Castiel.
"I want a rematch," Dean commanded, sitting back down and retrieving his controller. 
"Yeah, me, too!" Sam agreed. 
"I'm down!" Y/N eagerly agreed, about to grab hers when Castiel snatched it. He went around the room, taking up all the controllers.
"Given that it's five in the morning, and just a couple moments ago you three were ready to quite literally rip each other's throats out, I'm going to recommend everyone get up and get to bed instead," he instructed curtly. "I think we should postpone a future night of games indefinitely, at least for a little while until you three can learn to control yourselves."
"What-but-you can't-" Y/N sputtered.
"Quite literally, I can shut off whatever is necessary so you can never play the game again with just a snap of my fingers," Castiel warned. "Shower and get some sleep. Jody already told us she needed to discuss something at noon tomorrow, and it would be rude if we were tardy. C'mon, let's go!"
With a grumble, everyone got up and cleaned their mess, ignoring each other vehemently as they walked out. Except for Jack; he was practically skipping. 
There was another good thing about tonight that he knew about. He was the one that triggered the lightning item that really stumped the three siblings and put them at the bottom three.
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formidxble · 4 years ago
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summary: you and chan follow a routine every night. tonight’s different. 
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pairing: bang chan x female reader 
word count: 3.1k
genre: angst, like Extreme Angst™️, college!au, established relationship
warnings: a lot of swearing, toxic relationship, mentions of sex ( oh and btw, this is not beta read. we die like men)
note: omg? finally? i got to write something and now i’m posting it on here? confidently??? who is she, we don’t know her! enough jokes though, this is my first fic ever that’s going to be posted on this platform, so i’m excited! constructive criticism and feedback are welcome 👉🏻👈🏻. 
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tagged ❤️: @popisdead @hanflix
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
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it’s become routine at this point. 
when chan sees your room’s light turn off, it’s a signal that your roommates are now headed to bed and that you’re ready to come out and meet him. it’s been a busy few months for the both of you and the nights were the only time you two could meet. he’s a business major working on his business proposals for the semester and you’re a performing arts student, preparing for this semester’s art production. saying it was hard to make time to see each other was an understatement. nevertheless, you two made sure you still met, may it be only for a few minutes. some nights you were lucky, being able to meet for an hour or so. nights were reserved for chan and for chan only. 
after putting on your coat, you reached out for the door knob as you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. “are you coming or not? i’m freezing” you sigh softly.
the first few nights were fun, you have to admit. impromptu grocery shopping for the both of your food supplies for rest of the week, a few make out sessions here and there, and sometimes, leading to even more if you both were lucky enough. it gave you a high you never thought you would ever come down from. whenever he kissed you after a long day, you felt as if the weight on your shoulders fell off, even for just a moment. whenever chan held you in his arms and told you it was going to be okay, your chest loosened, even for just a moment. chan was the calm in the chaos and when you were in his car, holding his hand and feeling his lips lingering on yours, he provided the needed break you longed for during the day.
but, as the days and weeks passed by, the nights became shorter and quieter. rides became quicker and the good conversations slowly turned into mere small talk. no longer would he give you soft touches, no longer would he ask how your day went, and no longer would chan look at you the way he did before. no more i love you’s, no more second glances when he dropped you off at your dorm during the early hours of the morning. you excused the change of behavior as the result of your fatigue in school. the change was expected, you always told yourself.
it’s become a mantra now, something you repeated to yourself as you lied in bed at night, a routine. a routine. 
you close your eyes for a moment as you twist the doorknob to open the door. you focus on your phone again as soon as you got out of your dorm. “coming."
you spotted chan’s car a mile away. before, he would put the window down to greet you, a soft smile spreading across his face. now, you were faced with the car’s tinted windows, your reflection staring back at you as you wrapped your fingers around the handle of the car door. you heard the lock click. 
“hey,” you mumbled. you heard a soft hum in response. you quietly put the seatbelt on, relaxing your back on the seat as you stared ahead. chan was on his phone, seatbelt off. light from his phone illuminated his features. the bags under his eyes were a little bit more prominent than the last time you noticed. you wonder if he’s been eating, getting enough sleep, but you weren’t in the position to ask now. not when frustration is starting to boil in your chest.  
you didn’t know if you should call him out. it was his way to unwind as well, but then again, he was there to pick you up for a short date. this was the only time you both had for yourselves, yet here he was, texting away on his phone. this shouldn’t annoy you as much as it does now because chan does this whenever he was waiting. 
“hey,” you repeat louder. chan looks up from his phone, an eyebrow raised. 
“yes?” he asks, turning his phone off. the two of you are surrounded in darkness, with only the light from the lamp posts outside lighting the interior of the car. 
“what do you mean, ‘yes?’ are you serious?” chan furrows his eyebrows at your words as he straps himself in. he turns to you, blinking. you suck in a breath. 
“this is the only time we get to spend together and you’re on your phone? are you ser—“
“i’m sorry. there,” he breathes,  “can we move past this? i’m not in the mood to fight.” he interrupts. you open your mouth to say something back, but you’re cut off by the movement of the car. 
the air inside the car was heavy, heavier than usual. sure, you and chan had a couple of unresolved fights the other nights and sure, you spent you early mornings crying over him, but it should have been resolved with the few kisses he gives you, right? then why are you so upset now? chan makes amends, tells you he’s sorry for raising his voice, for ignoring you the whole day. he was busy, right? of course he’ll end up not texting you. he kisses the pain away, even though he’s the reason for said pain. he talks his way out and if he avoids the topic of the fight, you wouldn’t mind. that was the routine. but not tonight, apparently. 
“you’re always not in the mood.” you whisper, crossing your arms in front of your chest. you watch the trees outside of the car starting to blur as chan’s driving sped up. this night will end as quick as it started, you thought. you hear a sigh beside you. 
“i just—“ chan starts, “i can’t fight anymore, y/n. i’m tired.”
“and you think i’m not?” you answer back, looking at the man beside you, “god, we never talk anymore, chan. all we ever do is fuck the pain away and—“
you’re cut off by the sight of chan’s knuckles slowly turning white on the steering wheel. you almost don’t see the way he clenches his jaw. he pulls the car over at the side of the road and for a second, you think you two will be able to finally talk about your issues, the problems that were never muttered, but still plagued your relationship. god knows you wanted to hear from him, anything— fuck, just anything to finally resolve it, fix it. to finally end the routine you both had. but that hope shatters as soon as his mouth opens. 
“what do you want me to say? we’ve been okay, we’ve been fin—“
you let out an exasperated sigh, eyes meeting his, “we aren’t fine, chan, we haven’t bee—“
“what do you mean?” chan questions. he removes his seatbelt to turn to you. a gentleman he still was, even though you knew he was avoiding the topic. again. “fuck, what do you want me to say? i was on the phone. how does that merit a full blown argu—“
“it’s not about the damn phone!” you exclaim, finally feeling the frustration in your chest blow over. 
were you going crazy? why didn’t he see the changes? doesn’t he feel the frustration? were you the only one feeling this way, then? does he feel that everything was okay or were you that good at acting that everything was okay, that nothing was wrong? you run a hand down your face as you try to collect yourself.  the car became quiet, as always. chan was never really vocal about things like this and let you do the talking. maybe this is why issues were never resolved. 
“then, what is it about?” chan mumbles, eyes never leaving your form. you let out a soft scoff.
"what is it abou—are you kidding me? are you fucking with me?”chan raises an eyebrow in response, furrowing it afterwards. he lets out a sarcastic laugh after a few beats of silence. he shook his head as he turned to face the road again. 
“is this fight going to last all night? if so, i’d rather just drop you off,” he starts to put his seatbelt on, "we can continue our date when you’re not this moody."
and at that moment, your world nearly stops. the silence in the car was loud and the tension, if you could see it, could be cut with a knife. his words echo in your mind as the car starts moving again, chan preparing to make a u-turn to go back in the direction of your dorm. 
“not...this...moody?” you repeat to yourself. chan nonchalantly hums in response. 
you couldn’t even look at this man anymore. it was as if you didn’t know him anymore. he carried the name of your boyfriend, but was he really the chan you knew? the chan you knew won’t be able to say these things to you, let alone treat you like this. you feel like a deer in headlights, shocked at how everything led up to this moment. and to think that the turning point of your relationship was something as simple as chan being on his phone. you closed your eyes as you tried to fight the lump forming in your throat. 
“so, what am i supposed to do?” you ask. "just go home and think about what i did? what i said?”
chan shrugs. he shrugs. you couldn’t believe how he didn’t take this conversation seriously. was it because you’ve been in this exact same situation before? sure, fights have been frequent, but were they frequent to the point that chan just straight up ignored them? to the point that he never brought the topics up again? no effort to try and fix it?
was he that tired that he was willing to let everything pass? let you suffer in silence? 
“stop the car,” you whisper shakily. chan doesn’t listen, though. he never does, he rarely does. he never listens anymore. 
“chan, please stop the car,” you feel stupid begging, but that does it. he stops the car again, your dorm building in sight. his knuckles start to turn white again, but he closes his eyes this time. you hear him take a sharp inhale through his nose. 
“i can’t fight anymore, y/n, please, just...we can fix it tomorrow, whatever it is.”
you let out a soft sob at his words. “chan, you always say that, god, you always say that.”
chan grips his steering wheel tighter. “yes, i do, but we always fix it. we always end up fixing it.”
“no, we fucking don’t!” you scream now, releasing the frustration that has been clawing to come out, “no, we don’t fix things, we fuck it away and we pray that things magically turn okay in the morning, but it never does! it never fucking does!”
chan stays quiet, eyes drifting to the car floor. you wish you could know what he was thinking. you wish he would talk to you, tell you what he really felt instead of just sitting there. god, were you tired. you were tired of pretending things were okay when they aren’t. you were tired of telling yourself it would be fixed, that the relationship would go back to normal, but it never does. and you just somehow have to live with it because that’s how it is with you and him. that’s the routine, right? and even though you hated it, you tolerated it because you loved him. but people will reach an end point, one way or the other. you can’t help but feel that this was yours. 
“loving you is so exhausting, chan, i—“ your voice cracks, “i’m supposed to be content with this treatment? you and i not talking the whole day and then meeting at night just to make up for lost time, have sex, and pretend that everything’s okay, that the fights have not gotten out of hand, that we’re going to be ok—“
“we are going to be okay, fuck, it’s not that easy,” chan mumbles, “i’m trying, y/n, but i can’t give you everything you need, not anymore.”
silence fills the car and it engulfs the two of you. 
"what changed?" you sob softly, tears now slowly flowing down your cheeks. it was okay, a few weeks ago. days became busier, tasks became heavier, but did that mean that your relationship had to deteriorate the way it has been? 
“nothing changed, please, y/n,”chan breathes, not turning to look at you, “we just got busier and—"
“we weren’t like this, chan, we used to talk about things. w-we used to...talk. we can’t even do that now? am i asking for too much? i shouldn’t be begging for your time, chan, please—“you cry out softly. “why am i always second to you, chan? i try to be the best for you, chan, please.”
chan lets out a shaky breath as he tries to find the words to respond with. “y/n, it’s not y—“
“spare me the bullshit. spare me the "it’s not you, it’s me”. at least, be honest with me.” you say firmly, wiping away the tears on your cheeks harshly. 
“i...i just don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet, okay? i want to fo—"
your feel something in your chest. a pain you’ve never felt before. chan’s words become a blur as you feel your back hit the seat. 
you’re taken back to a time in your childhood when you were trying out the jump rope your friends had. being the idiot you were, you jumped in time with the rope and it tangled on your feet. you ended up falling on your chin, scraping it in the process. the pain rang through your skull and for a while, you couldn’t move, tears merely streaming down your cheeks. and to that that one time during one of the art productions in university, you ended up falling off of the stage. of course, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but maybe if they turned on the lights before lowering the stage, you wouldn’t have broken your ankle. you remember how worried chan was, but most importantly, you remember how much it hurt. you couldn’t walk and if you tried, it would shoot pain up your leg. 
adding all the pain you’ve felt in all those moments, it wouldn’t amount to the pain you feel now. 
not ready? not ready after 3 years? how could he say that? this was the man you saw your future with, someone who was supposed to be your soulmate. that was him, that was chan. the nights you shared, the words you uttered, were all those fake? were all those just to make everything feel okay? 
not ready? 
not ready.
the words echo in your mind like a broken record. were you supposed to beg him to stay? beg him to be ready when he just admitted that he wasn’t? as you turned to look at him, you didn’t see the chan who loved you. instead, it was the shell of the man who used to love you, care for you. fuck, was love supposed to hurt this bad? you feel your heart starting to crack even more.
if this was love, you didn’t want it. not anymore.
“drop me off,”you mumble after a deafening silence, voice shaking as a sob threatens to come out of your mouth. chan turns to look at you, finally. you don’t meet his eyes anymore. you, instead, just look straight ahead. if he wasn’t ready for a commitment, even after 3 long years, then you were not about to beg him to stay. chan opens his mouth to say something, but you notice that he just swallows his words. he turns to look in front of him as he pushes on the gas again to drive back to your dorm. if he wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready. there’s no point in trying to convince him he is. the next best thing is to leave and let him figure out what he needed to figure out. if he needed space, he could have told you. what bothered you the most is the fact that chan’s always been about communication, but somehow and somewhere along the journey, he changed. maybe that’s just how it goes. 
when he pulls up in front of your dorm building, chan turns to look at you again, eyes scanning your features. “i’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
you shake your head, eyes closing as you tried to fight the urge to cry again. the question he asked has always confused you. it was always like this, that even after a fight, he expects to see you again, the same time, the same place. you were tired and it didn’t help that you now knew why he wasn’t acting the same— he wasn’t ready to commit to you, even after all this time. 
“i’m ending it here, chan."
“ending what?”
ending the routine, ending the cycle, ending us. these words rang through your head and you didn’t know which to answer. was he acting aloof so that he could get off easily? that maybe you’ll let him off again because he somehow can’t understand what was happening? you swallowed. 
“us, chan, i—i can’t go on like this anymore,” you pause. was this what you really wanted or were you doing this to prove a point? you weren’t sure, but one thing’s clear, you had to do this, not only for him, but for you. you can’t subject yourself to this cycle anymore. you had to break it sooner or later. “when i get out of this car, we’re over."
chan’s car became a place of love and security in a world full of uncertainty and chaos. it was where you both spent time together when you needed a break, when you needed to be together. now, it was a place of loneliness and despair. it became a place full of resentment and unresolved issues and you can’t help but wonder how chan will be able to sit in his car again without thinking of this moment. before he could respond, you were out of the car. 
in the back of your mind, you hoped that he would call you, run after you. beg you to stay, tell you that everything will be fixed if you just gave him time. you prayed in your head desperately. if he did so, you know you’ll come crawling back to him. if he showed some sort of care, some sort of longing, some sort of initiative that he wanted things to work out, that he wanted this as much as you do, then maybe you’ll come back to him again. that’s how it always was, right?
right?
behind you, you hear the car drive away.
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