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scarletwinterxx · 4 years ago

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End to Start pt. 3 - Jaehyun AU

Hello lovelies! this part took awhile to write but she’s here, i hope you like it! I enjoy reading your feedbacks😊🤍

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

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All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2020 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

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“But like how rich is he?”

“Rich enough to buy this building three four times over” you mumbled, not really paying much attention to Jungwoo and more on the cake you’re trying to decorate

“And you broke up with him? Wah noona” you looked over at him with a glare, signaling him to shut up.

It was the day after the gala, you were supposed to take the day off but you’d rather keep yourself busy than overthink at home. Thus why you’re here now at the cafe with a very nosy Jungwoo beside you with his 100 questions after finding out you dated the Jung Jaehyun.

“I’m three seconds away from kicking you out of this store permanently”

“That’s the third time I heard that, this month” he smiled at you, walking back to the kitchen to grab the other pastries to be displayed. It’s still pretty early and it’s the weekend so you don’t expect that many people right now.

“So is he the guy you dated when you were in college?”

“Yes”

“You didn’t say he owned a big company”

“Are we playing 20 questions right now? Go serve the customers” you pushed him to the side when you heard the bell right, going back to what you were doing and letting Jungwoo deal with it.

“Goodmorning, what can I get you today?”

“Two iced americano please”

Hold up, you know that voice. You don’t even have to look up to see who it was, “Is that all? Would you like to try some of our cakes and pastries? It’s good to pair with the coffee” Jungwoo said, still clueless about who he’s currently talking to

“Is that green tea with pistachio? I’ll take a slice of that” it just so happens it was the cake you were currently setting up.

“Sure thing, is that all?” After taking his order, the guy walked to a vacant table.

“Noona, should I set you up with that guy? He was looking at you, plus he looks handsome and rich”

“Jungwoo”

“Mhm?”

“Shut up”

You were preparing the order when the bell rang again, “Goodmorning, welcome to the cafe” Jungwoo greeted happily.

“Oh, looks like he’s with someone” that made you halt for a second but quickly shaking it away. Passing the tray over to Jungwoo, “Here, go serve this and please stop being nosy”.

Jaehyun wanted to visit the cafe for some time now, but he didn’t want it to seem like he’s stalking you. He already knew you know how to bake, your cookies were his favorite. You used to bake those for him after exams as a way to cheer him up.

He didn’t know the first time he’ll be visiting here is when he’s about to break-up with his current ‘girlfriend’, with you standing only a few meters away. But after last night’s gala, Chungha called him suddenly asking if they could talk.

“Here’s your order, is there anything else I could get you?” Jungwoo asked him and Chunga but the girl just shook her head with a smile, “Really? green tea cake? Your taste is so weird sometimes” she chuckled at the sight of cake on the table

“It’s one of the more unique flavors, we also have a chocolate one. It’s our bestseller” Jungwoo added, “Maybe later, thanks”

After Jungwoo walked away, the two were left alone to talk.

“Go on, just say it”

“You don’t have to act all tough all the time you know”

His eyes landing on hers, as if he was telling her to just get on with it. “We had a good run” she chuckled, “What will your parents say when the word gets out?” Jaehyun asked. He might seem like a cold guy but he does still have some empathy left in him,

“I’ll deal with it. Happiness comes at a price, it just took me this long to realize I’m willing to pay for it no matter what the cost. Maybe you should too”

Jaehyun can’t help but look over at you, you were having a conversation with the guy that took his order and was laughing at something he said. Jaehyun’s gaze made Chungha look over at the side too, in that moment she knew

“So that’s her?”

“No” he cleared his throat before drinking his coffee, “You know you can’t lie that good, not to me atleast. Or her it looks like. Word of advice though, if she’s worth it just do it”

You were doing your best to ignore the two people on the far side of your cafe, Jaehyun and the girl looked like they were having a very serious conversation. When the girl stood up you immediately busied yourself again, then someone was standing infront of the counter on the other side.

“I heard the chocolate cake is the best seller here” she said, her voice gentle and sweet. She seems like a lovely lady.

“Yea, and the chocolate chip cookies too. Would you like to try it?” you asked her with a smile of your own

“I’ll take both to go” you packed the treats yourself, passing it over to her as she hand you her payment

“Green tea cake, sounds different” she chuckled, looking at the cake with a single slice missing “Oh yea, I just like trying out flavors here and there”

“What are you talking about? You always make that, if you want to try something new, you can order that. We always have extra” Jungwoo butted in, “Will keep that in mind, my friend loves that flavor”

“Oh, friend” Jungwoo said then looking over at you, “Thanks by the way” the lady said then walked out the door.

“Friend” Jungwoo repeated with a wicked grin on

“Stop”

“But this is your chance at finally landing someone! Jihyo may be bad at setting you up maybe I can”

“No-”

“Let’s just try, see he’s walking over here”

“I said-” “Uh can I have this cake to go, please? I’ll also get the rest of it” Jaehyun said looking back and forth between you and Jungwoo

“Sure, would that be all?” you asked as if you didn’t know him

“Uhm so my boss here-” you elbowed him on the stomach, trying to stop him from continuing. “I’m here! Sorry I’m a bit late, class finished later than I thought” Sungchan announced as he enter the shop, making the three of you look over at the tall boy

“Oh, hyung what are you doing here?” he asked Jaehyun when he spotted him, “You two know each other?” Jungwoo asked from beside you

Then it clicked, you almost wanted to slap yourself. How can you be so stupid, you’re not sure.

“You’re related, how come I never put that together” you looked back and forth between the two

“You two know each other?” Sungchan asked back, “Something like that” Jaehyun mumbled. That made Jungwoo look over at you then Jaehyun then at you again, “Oh, Jung Sungchan. then you must be-”

After that stressful encounter, you chose to just call it an early day and leave the boys at the cafe. Jaehyun didn’t say much afterwards, just waited for his order then left with a few words said to his younger brother.

Add that to the list of things you were thinking about. After the gala yesterday, after seeing Jaehyun’s mom again you can’t help but overthink about things again. A big part of you itching to do what you’ve always been meaning to do, something you wish you never did.

Unable to stop yourself, you opened the door of your closet and rummaged through until you find the box stashed inside. Stuffing it in your bag before shruging your coat on, took your keys and drove off.

You've only been at their place once, that was the first and last time.

It’s what you see in movies, the typical huge mansion rich people have in movies. The Jungs were no exception, their home looked like something straight out of a magazine. Until now you feel like you shouldn’t be here.

Parking your car on the driveway, you walked towards the front door. Knocking twice and wait for someone to open the door, when it did it was just the person you wanted to see,

“Can we talk?”

Jaehyun didn’t expect the turn of events this day had, after finding out his youngest sibling works part time at your cafe ofcourse he had to know more. Telling Sungchan he’ll wait until his shift is over to drive him home.

“You didn’t tell me you work at the cafe”

“Why? would you stop me just like mom?” the younger one asked, he knew what his brother meant. With their mother there’s almost little to no room for freedom, their lives were planned out for them. As kids they were told what they should be when they grow up, expectations they had to meet, things they needed to accomplish.

“No, it’s close to my office. You could’ve just worked for me” he answered, the older brother tone gone

“Then what’s the point? Like I said, I wanted to atleast see the world on my own before mom and dad stops me. Or atleast until college” Sungchan mumbles

“If you don’t want to study the course mom and dad are making you study just tell me, I’ll help you”

“Why? They’ll just get mad at you too”

“Then they can be both mad at us, don’t make the same stupid mistakes I did. Don’t take too long to decide that this isn’t the life you don’t want to live. Just... just be you. If they won’t have that, then you’ll have me” he sincerely said, meaning every word he just said.

He wished he had someone to say that to him back then, in a way he did. You told him that.

Even if the world is against him, he’ll have your hand to hold on to.

“So, how did you know Y/N noona?”

“We went to same college” he answered, keeping it brief. After that Sungchan didn’t ask anymore questions. When they finally arrived at their home, there’s an unfamiliar car on the driveway. Assuming that it was one of their parent’s visitor,

“Are you staying the night?” Sungchan ask as they walk towards the house, “No, just came to talk to mom about something”

“Okay, well see you later” the two brothers went their own ways, Sungchan skipping up the stairs to his room while Jaehyun walk around the house looking for his mom.

What he didn’t expect was to see who she was talking to, they were at the foyer, sitting at opposite sides of the table.

“Even when I didn’t have anything to my name, I never touched a cent in that envelope. I’m ashamed I even took in the first place, that was my mistake. And I’m still paying for it until now, you got what you wanted. Jaehyun hates me”

You were talking about him with his mother?

What envelop were you talking about?

“Then why did you take it?”

“Because it was the only way you’ll stop, I thought if I took the money and disappeared you would atleast spare him, you’d let him live the way he wants to. I don’t care if he’s angry at me, he has every right to be” you answered, no sign of intimidation or fear in your voice.

But he does hear the pain, and he hated it.

“Your son is worth more than whatever you give me, that money is bitter reminder of my lowest point. But even then, I’d rather starve and have no roof over my head than spend a single cent you gave me. It’s up to you if you tell him what you did, I think we’re way past the point of going back anyways. He can’t even stand being in the same room as me. One way or another, you got what you wanted. All I want is my peace, I don’t want that with me anymore, I don’t want to keep that in the corner of my closet like the monster I’m too scared to face”

Jaehyun was trying to take all of your words in, struggling to process the truth he just accidently uncovered.

All those years he thought you left him because you didn’t love him was in fact not what really happened, His mother, surprisingly but not really, manipulated his life yet again.

“All of the money is still in there, I haven’t touched that since then. I was just waiting for the day I could finally give it back to you. I’m pretty sure you don’t need it, but neither do I” you said your final words then rose from your seat.

When you turned around to leave the place you didn’t expect to see the person standing by the door, a gasp leaving Mrs. Jung’s mouth

“Jaehyun” she said but his gaze was on you

You didn’t have to ask him, you already knew he heard it. How much? probably enough judging by the look on his face.

You looked at him with same intense stare, trying to say your apologies without saying anything at all. It feels like there’s this weight lifted off of you after you gave the envelope containing the money back to his mom. Like this time you can look him in the eyes without thinking about the money stashed away in your closet.

There are still questions floating in his mind, you could tell. But Jaehyun didn’t look as troubled as he should be, even with the overwhelming amount of questions in his head he knew this time it would be okay. You were the only answer he needed.

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kpop-hive · 3 years ago

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It Started In Italy

Osaki Shotaro x Reader, Romeo and Juliet based AU.

Warnings ⚠️: Language, Violence, Graphic Scenes, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Marking, Slight Praise, Slight Cockwarming, Mentions of blood, nausea, vomiting, arranged marriage and pregnancy.

I have arranged for this dialogue to be written Shakespearean language. Sorry if some of the dialogue is confusing I tried my best. 😊

Word Count: 10.4k Oops 🤭

Act I

Scene i

8:42 a.m. The sun kissed your skin as you awoke from your slumber. The white bedsheets spread across your skin smoothly as you rolled over, looking towards your bedroom door, there lay your big black suitcase packed and ready for placement in the car along with the silk dress you were ready to wear for the long flight to the Almafi Coast. You’ve always wanted to see Italy. Your father never took you and your mother with him when he went there for business. You’ve dreamt of going to Italy since you were litte, you always heard of stories about the food, clothes, structure and beautiful people. You’ve always thought about what you could find in Italy, your future, estates, love, your possibilities were endless. Now, the dream you’ve dreamt up for so long is finally coming true.

“(Y/n)! Why is my daughter still lay in her slumber!? We have to leave the house in thirty minutes and here thou are still in twilight’s clothes. Are thou not ready for Italy?” Your mother spoke. “Yes mother, has my own mother think slothfulness has been bestowed upon me? I will be ready for our departure quick and swiftly.” “Well, hurry up, thou father gets mad when thee is tardy.” Your mother says before exiting and closing the door. You sighed to yourself before getting up and headed to your bathroom for your morning routine.

You headed down to the kitchen to have some breakfast before you leave. Grabbing a bowl and some oatmeal, you pour it into the bowl, add some water, and throw it in the microwave. You went to the fridge to get some fruit to have with the oatmeal, and then your mom walked in.

“Darling, make sure thou doth not eat too much, bloating will not be accepted when there are so many young men that would adore being thou spouse.” Your mom commented. It was the dreaded marriage talk, your parents got married at a young age to secure their assets as a way to be set financially for life, and now your parents expect you to do the same. They didn’t really care about love in the relationship, it was only about partnership and favors, you hoped that if ever got to marry someone, it was because of love, regardless of money.

“Mother, dost thou not believe in mutual feelings?” You ask. “Mutual agreements are supposed to be in order dear, never feelings, thou needs to be presentable, and not fond of sloppiness. Thy image is everything, thou needs to be pure as heaven, kind and graceful, and thou will then have the perfect husband.” You rolled your eyes away from your mom, how is it that you have to be attractive to get a husband, but the marriage is not out of love at all, only lust, greed, and pride.

“Come hither my wife and daughter! We are all ready for thy departure.” Your father says. You finish up the last of your breakfast before cleaning your area, and leaving for the airport.

Scene ii

The Osaki Residence was quite different. They were filled with chaos, and humor. They lived life fully, and rarely conformed to society’s expectations. They had life long riches, but never acted as if they had it. Their life consisted of endless travel, fun and living life at full potential. In this residence, it consists of three family members as well, Mr and Mrs Osaki, and their son Shotaro.

“Shotaro, boys come forth, or we will miss thy flight!” A voice called. “Mom, we are ready, bags are together and all.” Shotaro responded. “We are fine, I thank thee, Mrs. Osaki.” Haechan said before bowing. “I’m sure we are all grateful for thee letting us come along on the trip to Italy.” Sungchan spoke. “Yeah, we are gonna have so much fun, partying, drinking, beautiful girls.” YangYang chimed in. “I know that all sounds fun, but have thou boys ever thought about settling down and finding a beautiful girl that thou would want to marry someday?” Mr. Osaki asked. The four boys all gave gagging faces. “Trust me boys, I was like thee at thou age, charming and could get many girls but remember, there’s nothing like being in love.” He said before kissing his wife’s cheek. “Now let’s go we don’t want to miss thy flight.”

Scene iii

The (L/n) family finally arrived in Italy. Almafi Coast was beautiful to say the least, and the villa that they purchased for the occasion was apart of the perfect scenery, quiet, serene, and tasteful.

“Oh! This exquisite, (Y/n), isn’t this lovely?” Your mother asked. “Yes, quite.” You spoke. You were still experiencing jet-lag, so you have answering as you went along. “(Y/n), come now, thou should go look at thou room.” Your father commented. You walked through the hallway and upstairs to get to your room at the villa, and you were astound at how beautiful the room was. It contained nude pink renaissance themed wall paper, a yellow canopy bed with gold bedding, and a large balcony that you could walk out to to see the coastline. You were honestly impressed with how well the room was put together. You definitely felt like your dad payed good money for this villa.

“(Y/n), how dost thou like thy room?” Your mom asked. “Very beautiful I thank thee, mom.” You replied. “Don’t forget, we mustn’t wait around, we have a party with thou father’s business partners and a few guests tonight to celebrate their new deals.” “Oh most certainly! I remember a few of father’s partners, Mr. Lee, Mr. Jung, Mr. Nakamoto, Mr. Huang, and Mr. Osaki.” After you mentioned that name, your mother’s reaction went from nice to brutal. “Do not speak of that scum that infiltrated our family do thou hear me!? He is not fit to be here! He has almost shunned our family’s honor, and I am glad that he will not be attending.” She exclaimed. You were awfully confused, your father and Mr. Osaki were really good business partners, you don’t know what happened, but due to the recent outburst, you thought it would be best to not bring it up again to your mother. She sighed before walking out of your room to calm down for a bit. You shrugged it off and began to get ready for the party.

Scene iv

After a long flight, the Osaki family and Haechan, YangYang, and Sungchan finally arrived. As they all were situated in their villa, the family and friends all caught up on the excitement that they all wanted for the trip.

“So, what is the one thing that thee would like to do?” Mrs. Osaki asked. “Well, there’s a pretty big coast, I do plan on going to thy dock one day and sail a little bit.” Mr. Osaki spoke. “For me, three words, girls, girls, and girls.” Haechan joked. “I definitely want to see the Sistine Chapel for sure, as well as some of Italy’s infrastructure and history.” Sungchan explained. “Are you kidding me, I came here for two things and two things only, parties and football.” YangYang smiled. The family continued to murmur on what they wanted to do until Mrs. Osaki questioned her son. “Shotaro, what about thee?” “I don’t know, I’ll go where thy wind takes me.” Shotaro shrugged. Everyone nodded. “I’m just glad we all get to spend time with each other, just my loving wife and son, his friends, and no one else that could ruin this vacation, besides I’m finally away from thy man who caused all this stress upon me.” Mr. Osaki said. “Are thou talking about Mr. (L/n) sir?” Haechan asked, but got glares from Mrs. Osaki and Shotaro causing him to look down. “Sorry.” He said. “No it’s alright, I guess I can explain what happened so thou boys could learn a life lesson from this.” Mr. Osaki spoke up. “Mr (L/n), and I were both working together on a co-partnership deal that we put a lot of money into. If we made this deal work, we were gonna make so much money that we didn’t know what to do with, luckily the plan was approved and we were all ready to go into action, but there was a flaw. In order for this plan to work we needed to leave home for a very long time, your mother just gave birth to thee Shotaro, and I didn’t want to leave her by herself so with rational thinking, I told Mr. (L/n) no, but that caused chaos. He was mad because I chose to stay with my family instead of going along with thy multi million dollar deal because I already have money, but I also have a family that loves me. He was very angry at me for backing out of thy deal because of money that he already has, and has a family so I asked, ‘what about thou family?’ He then replied ‘As long as I’m making money, they don’t have to worry about where I go.’ After that he came up with his own deal, and made even more money, he stopped talking to me after that. It made me realize that he wasn’t a friend, he was a cruel businessman who only worried about deals in life, and I’m pretty sure he’s teaching his wife and child thy same way, so boys let this be a lesson to not think about wealth and power over love, it shows how heartless thou are as a person.

“Wow.” The boys said in unison. “Yep, I don’t tell people this story, because it’s quite boring, I’ll do it for thee, because thou all are my rock.” Everyone smiled before looking at the time. “Oh! We have to get ready!” Shotaro said. “Where are thou boys going?” Mrs. Osaki asked. “There’s a beach party a miles along the coast. It said open invite, so we just decided to try it out.” Haechan replied. “Well okay, as long as there’s no trouble, then thou boys can go.” She replied. “Awesome.” YangYang said.

Scene v

The decor for the party looked nice, the food looked good, everyone was dressed in formal-casual clothes, and there were all kinds of guests, the business partners, their kids, younger mentors, and respectable people.

You walked up the stairs to your room to get something from your room when you overheard your father from the other side of the door of your parents room.

“I don’t care if they were accidentally written to attend this party, the Osaki’s are not invited! They are spineless saps who don’t care about there livelihood or reputation at all, they will just ruin this party, especially with that reckless son of theirs, he’s just like his father, they are not invited, and if anyone of the Osaki’s or their acquaintances try to attend this party, I command thee to use force at once!” Your father spoke to who you assumed was security. Your father sighed before you heard footsteps going towards the door causing you to walk downstairs quickly towards the party. You thought to yourself how are the Osaki’s that bad, not only was your mom upset, your father reiterated in the same tone, it was very confusing. As you walked around the villa, your mom stopped you in your tracks along with a gorgeous man with long hair.

“(Y/n), this is Nakamoto Yuta, Mr. Nakamoto’s son, he spoke very fondly of thee, so I brought him over to chat with thee, so thou two enjoy yourselves.” Your mother spoke making you side eye her. “Hi, I’m Yuta, it’s a pleasure to meet thee, (Y/n).” He said before shaking your hand and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it. You have to admit, Yuta is quite handsome, long hair, soft yet seductive eyes, and a sharp jawline, you were intrigued. Maybe you could stay with him for a few minutes and get to know him.

Scene vi

On the other side of town there be another party, this one at the beach, and all kinds of fun, it nothing but young adults, sand, the sea, a bonfire, and fun. Haechan, YangYang, Sungchan, and Shotaro started having fun until they realized that almost half of the partygoers left due to the mildly cold waters, fire almost dying down, and open winds picking up.

“Damn, where’d all thy people go?” Haechan asked. “Probably indoors, it’s freezing.” Sungchan mentioned. “Yeah, and so is the water.” YangYang commented as he left the cold, dark ocean. “Thou guys wanna head back to thy villa?” Shotaro asked. “I guess, but I thought our main point of this vacation was to have fun? Going back to thy villa defeats that purpose.” Haechan shrugged. “What if instead of going back to our villa, we go to another?” YangYang suggests. “Elaborate.” Sungchan said. “I heard a few people say that thy guests of the Royal Renaissance villa is having a party tonight that started at 8:00, it’s 9:00 now, and I highly doubt that thy party would be over in an hour.” “What about security?” Shotaro mentions. “Please, with Sungchan’s legs, and YangYang’s and I’s sneakiness, we can easily get in there, I’m down.” Haechan spoke. The boys all agreed before pouring some water over the fire, threw on the shirts, and left the beach to head to the villa.

Scene vii

As the cab fare pulled up to the high class villa, the four boys were in awe, it was definitely high class due to the vintage yet modern architecture, pastel color palette, and array of organized flowers and lights along entry. The boys proceeded the villa with caution, taking in every detail and scoping out how they would get in.

“Okay, so what’s thy plan?” Sungchan asked. “I don’t know, but we need to figure it out to get in.” Shotaro replied. “Well, I hope we figure it out before that finds us.” Haechan said, referring to the tall and buff stone faced security. “I got it! Do you guys see that gate where the pool is? What if Haechan distracts thy guard in front of it away from the gate, we all climb thy gate, hide behind thy shack, and walk up thy stairs to thy party?” YangYang suggested. “Not a bad idea, but what about me, how will I get in after distracting him?” Haechan questioned. “I guess one of us will have to hide in that shed to let thee in. Sungchan and Shotaro are too tall to not be noticed so I guess it will be me. Just make sure you run faster than the security so he doesn’t see me open the gate. Is everyone down?” They all agreed to YangYang’s plan and kicked it into effect.

The plan was slightly conspicuous. The three boys hid in the bushes before Haechan began to insult the security guard making the boys chuckle. As Haechan took off running, the boys swiftly made their move. Considering that the gate could only be open by a key from security, and no key on the inside, they used Sungchan to leverage themselves up over the gate. With all the three inside, they knew they didn’t have much time before security came back.

As Sungchan and Shotaro moved upstairs towards the main door, YangYang hid in the small peach colored pool shed peeping out the window before seeing tuffs of brown hair flopping up and down quickly. He looked carefully to make sure security was nowhere near Haechan as he opened the shed and hid behind it before finally seeing Haechan near the gate. He moved to open the gate allowing him in as they could both tread heavy footsteps while running. The two boys ran at the speed of light, and hid under the stairs that led to the main door where the party was. Finally when the security got there, he looked around while catching his breath, and saw no sign of Haechan anywhere. Thinking he was gone, he got back to his job attending the gate.

The two boys tiptoed up the stairs as they saw the gold lighting inside. They opened the door quietly before ducking in. They assumed Shotaro and Sungchan were somewhere off browsing, but to their surprise, they were still waiting for their two friends and stunned at the decor of the party. Arranged table for Hors d’oeuvres, another table that set out wine glasses and champagne, and another one that had tons of gift bags for the guest. As they looked at the guests, they noticed their attire, laid back, but nice and formal wear, and then looked at themselves in their beach attire, getting a few looks from some of the guests, but to them, they didn’t care, a party was a party. “Guys, we made it.” Shotaro spoke.

Scene viii

As the night continued, the guests partied, some slightly tipsy as they stumbled upon their words. Laughter and chatter filled the villa well, many were happy, and were glad to be there, except (Y/n) who didn’t feel like talking to the handsome guy that irritated her.

“So my parents bought me a helicopter that I rode around in, it was worth $500,000, but I was with my friends, we were all wearing shiny Rolex watches, and my friend lost his off thy helicopter because it was too loose! Luckily my dad bought him another one, it was worth $60,000.” Yuta explained. “Uh huh.” You say nonchalantly. “Maybe, I could buy you one too, that is if you stay with me, maybe a pretty pink one with diamonds, hmm?” Yuta asked. “Yeah, that be great.” You shrugged. At this point, you were tired of Yuta, it was bad enough that you had to deal with your mom trying to match you up with him, but it was worse when all he would talk about was how rich him and his family was. “Hey, Yuta, do you mind if you could get me something to drink from thy table please?” “No problem.” He answered. He slowly walked towards the table, a slight arrogance to his walk. It was the perfect time to make an escape.

You hurriedly walked away from the people at the party, scurrying to the stairs trying to get away from anybody named your mom, your dad, or Yuta. As you walked fast you ran into somebody that was definitely taller and more broad than you. Hoping it wasn’t Yuta, you swore under your breath not wanting to see him. “Are thou okay?” A voice asked. Your ears perked up hearing a sweet voice that didn’t belong to Yuta, as you slowly looked up, you were struck with the most beautiful person you’ve ever met in your life.

Scene ix

“Shotaro, can we go somewhere else, this party is no fun, and thy alcohol and food are bleh.” Haechan whined. “Yeah, I agree with Haechan, everything here is so snotty and bratty, I tried talking a cute girl, and all she wanted to know was how much is my family’s worth.” YangYang replied. “If we find another place we could probably go to a club near here.” Sungchan spoke. “Looked it up, clubs aren’t near here, we have to travel to the city for clubs, we’re on an island coast remember?” Shotaro said. “Fuck.” Haechan swore, getting a few stares from random guests. “Okay well look, if thou guys want to leave that’s fine, but if we leave, we’ll have to back to the villa.” Shotaro mentioned. “That’s fine, at least the chefs could whip up some awesome Italian pizza for me.” Haechan joked. “You’re full of it Haechan.” Shotaro said as he walked into you. “Are thou okay?” He asked as he held you in his arms to keep you from falling. He took in your visible features like your height, hair, figure, and white dress. You finally looked up, and he thought he saw an angel, you were beautiful to him, had a very soft look in your eye, one that showed sweetness and caring personality, something that he has never seen in his life. The boys looked at his friend and the girl, and questioned the scene, both frozen, looking into each other’s eyes, as they held onto each other not letting go. Haechan, YangYang, and Sungchan all looked at each other and thought to themselves, did their friend find someone that infatuates him?

Act II

Scene i

Some people believed that there was a time and place for everything, others believe fate, in this case Shotaro and (Y/n) realized that their fate may be the best thing that has happened to them at this party, but what they don’t know is that there may be a catch to this lovely fate.

“Are thou okay?” Shotaro asked. “Yes I’m fine.” You replied still holding onto his grasp. You stood up a little showing your true height and form, even then you were still shorter that him by a few inches, but could finally see everything in view. His gorgeous smile, bright brown eyes, soft skin, You stared deep into his eyes, looking into the windows showed that he was kind, someone you could trust, you never saw that before, not even in your parents. “What is thou name?” He asked. “(Y/n), and thee?” “Shotaro.” You smiled. You felt warmth cascade through your body, you both were still into each other’s grasps, not wanting to let go, you felt safe, and secure, you didn’t know that a stranger could make you feel this way at all.

“We’re still linked.” Shotaro chuckled. “Well, it’s hard to remove yourself from someone who has such a hold on thee.” You smiled. “If it makes thou feel any better… I don’t want to let go of thee.” He whispered. “I don’t either.” Shotaro felt someone tap his shoulder, and sighed. He was annoyed at how someone could ruin such a beautiful moment. As he turned around, there stood his best friends ready to depart from the slow party. “Thou guys go ahead, I think I’m gonna stay here for awhile.” Shotaro spoke. “Are thou sure?” Sungchan asked. He looked back at you and smiled. “Yeah thou guys go, I’ll be fine.” He replied. They all smiled before patting his back and leaving from the exit.

“So what brings thee here to this party?” You ask. “Nothing but sheer boredom, I was ready to leave, but I found someone to make me stay.” He replies, making you smile. “I appreciate the gratitude, I guess I’ve become the life of the party?” You joke. “You definitely have.” He smiles. “How about thee? Is this a party thou wanted to come to tonight?” “Actually no, this is my parents party, they are hosting it.” You sighed and looked down. “You don’t seem happy.” He grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger lifting it up to keep your eyes focused on him. “Why are thou upset?” He asked with sincerity in his voice. “I’m not into this whole putting up a front for guests type of thing, I want to be my own self, not someone who is thy perfect daughter. Thou are the first person I didn’t have to lie to tonight.” You said. “If this is thee true self, I wouldn’t want thee to be any other way.” He commented. You both looked into each other’s eyes, his holding a truth to every word about you being your true self. Within seconds, your lips connected. The soft skin of his lips gave you tingles, never leaving the spot you were in, you both melted into it, you felt like your feet lifted off of the ground, and were transcending towards heaven. You loved every moment. As you both pulled away, you stared into each other’s eyes, smiling wide. “Sorry for stealing such a sweet kiss.” He spoke. “Why doth thou have to be sorry, I’m not upset, my lips feel happy to graze thee so nicely.

Not long after, your name was called, and it didn’t sound pleasant. Worried you hurried up to the stairs, with Shotaro behind you, hands intertwined. “We must hurry. I think my parents are calling me.” You said worriedly. As you both huddled towards the stairs, you saw your mother in trying to look for you with Yuta in her peripheral. You ran up the stairs with Shotaro and instantly made it to your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it afterwards.

“That was close.” You huffed. Shotaro looked around your room looking at the beautiful decor. “Nice room.” He commented. “Thank thee, thou can sit if thou want.” You replied, signaling him to the bed. “Can I ask why we were running away from thou parents?” You sighed. “It’s because of a lot, my parents hosted this party, I didn’t want to be here, and now my mom found this nice, but incredibly arrogant guy for me to talk to, but I’m not into him at all.” “Arrogant? He sounds horrible already.” Shotaro comments. “Yeah he is, they only want me to date someone who has a great status to keep up with the family name. They said that marriage is only an agreement, and should be used as such.” “That’s nothing like my parents, they fell in love when they first met.” “Well, thou parents sound lovely. I think my parents only want me to succeed at wealth and family and it’s just that I’m tired of trying to be… perfect.” “…Perfect?” You and Shotaro said in sync. You stare into his eyes lovingly, before you both leaned in and kissed again. The same feeling you had downstairs coming back to you, this time with more courage and understanding. You didn’t know what to call this feeling, but from the small comment from Shotaro about his parents, you felt like it was nothing other than love. You two were so enamored by each other so infatuated, the fact that you two couldn’t get out of each other’s grasps downstairs, and now you two have been kissing for as long as you could count, it all made sense to you.

Just then, there was a knock on your door that startled you and Shotaro. You both pulled away, you groaning in annoyance, but your emotions changed when a tone in voice replaced the knocks. “(Y/n), open this door, thou mother and I need to talk with thee it’s urgent.” Your father spoke. You began to panic, you knew your father didn’t want you to have a boy in your room, even on vacation. “That’s my father he can’t know thou are here, thou has to leave!” You whispered at Shotaro. “But what about thee? I want thee with me?” He asked. “Come by tomorrow, and I’ll see thee then. There’s a stairway under my room that is an emergency exit, thou can go through there from the balcony.” You kissed him one last time hands tucked in his hair. “Goodnight, I’ll see thee again.” You said. “Thou as well, be safe, goodnight.” He says before leaving you see him climb down safely before closing the balcony doors a little to allow some air, and finally opening the door to your room.

“Hi mother, father, what brings thee here?” You ask. “(Y/n), was there any boys here who were in swim attire that attended this party?” Your father asked. “Not that I’ve seen, is something wrong?” You asked, playing it coy. “Well one, they weren’t on the list of guests, and two, one of them was the only son of our enemies thy Osaki’s. His name is Osaki Shotaro.”

Scene ii

With night in place, everyone was happy, all except (Y/n) who now found out that her lover whom she loved relentlessly, was now the son of her parents enemies.

In that moment, your heart sank, Shotaro, an enemy, you hated to think that. “(Y/n)?” Your mother asked calmly. “N-no, I haven’t seen anyone of thy sorts.” You said sadly. “Well, just in case, we’ve upped security around just so no one with thy surname ‘Osaki’ Can step foot in this villa.” Your father replied. Your mother moved closer to you grabbing your hands as your dad stared at you as well. “Sweetheart, I know thou may not know much about thy Osaki incident, but just know that they are not good people to be around, they are untrustworthy, shallow, leeches, and one decision that Mr. Osaki made years ago with thou father, almost cost us our entire source of income and could’ve tarnished our names, we have swore to this day that no one with thy name Osaki shall cross our paths and we won’t let them.” Your mom said. “And we advise thee to do the same.” Your father said, staring at you. “Is that clear?” You nodded your head, making your parents smile. “Well good, now come along, we’ve got an hour left of the party, and Yuta would like to get to know thee more.” Your mom said dragging you out of your room and downstairs.

You looked back at the balcony thinking about Shotaro and his escape, upset that your lover is now thought of as an enemy, but one thing you didn’t know was that he was still on the steps, frozen after hearing every word your parents said about him and his family, and is also in the same sudden realization that hit you moments ago that you are a (L/n), his family’s worst enemy.

Scene iii

As dawn awakens, sunlight shines through the windows, by now, the Osaki family and friends have awaken, while the (L/n)’s are still in slumber. Shotaro smiles to himself, now happy to know he’s in love regardless of the baggage that his and her family holds to each other.

“So, let me get this straight, thou fell in love with a girl who is thou enemy!?” Haechan asks Shotaro while laughing. “Dost thou knoweth when to hold his jest laugh? She was beautiful, more than thy heavens that sit above earth. Her smile brighter than thy sun, and her sweet voice could not even compare to calming birds.” Shotaro speaks, staring in a distance. “How are’t thou so radiant in a lustrous love, that he hath forgotten thy disdain of thy families?” Sungchan asked. “Why thou question my love, thus this love can not grow without pandering to thy heart, less’t be thy heart that be so drugged in her.” “Why must we gossip? If thou love her, then thou shall seek her.” YangYang spoke agreeing with Shotaro. “I, but alas, the savagery that keeps us disheartened, also keeps us discontent.” Shotaro replied. “Her father who is thy conflict has released obsequious men who come to seek me if thy enter thy chambers. I ask of my three companions, dost thou not want me to be happy, shall I stay in isolation and remain frugal? I seek of my mates to help me through my journey, and keep me satisfied day by day forever as I live.” Shotaro pleads. As the three boys elaborate with thoughts, they all agree to Shotaro’s cries for help. Within minutes, Shotaro will see to his one true love as soon as possible.

Scene iv

Throughout the day, (Y/n) is infatuated by her lover Shotaro. As sunset falls, she dreams peacefully about the boy who was kept in her room hoping to see her again, sadly, news awaits her that she doesn’t want to hear.

“(Y/n), I come with grave news for thee!” Your mother exclaimed. “And what news shall thou bestow upon me?” You ask. “Yuta, has fallen in love with thee, and would respectfully take her hand in marriage!” You looked at her with shameful eyes, how could he want to marry you after a failed conversation? “Why must thou present this news to me now? Was said man so lustrous, he be willing to give vows so easily after a talk so lackluster?” You ask. “Oh stop being dramatic! Can’t thou see how infatuated he is of thee? If he not, then why is thy man so generous with words he cannot take back?” She replied. “But why now? Why cans’t thou wait for fate to cross our paths?” You ask. “Because fate is flawed, sometimes thou works fate in one’s favor.” “But what dost Yuta possess that no other man cans’t satisfy?” You question. “Wealth and a status that won’t besmirch thy name. Why would thee want someone worthless, when thou could have good courtship with a satisfying label? Vowing to thee would be monumental to thy family name, and help with accusations thy family has been wrongly shunned for.”You looked down, you hated to have to make a choice between your family and your lover, it was hard, but it seemed like your mother already gave you your option. “Thy ceremony is in a few weeks. That gives thee time to know Yuta in a more vulnerable state.” She says then exits. You sigh before laying back in bed, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Scene v

With forced marriage in one hand and love in the other, (Y/n) is torn. Luckily, with the help of his three friends, Shotaro might make her night feel much more secure.

“What scuffle is thy friend about to get us into now?” Haechan asked. “With maximum protection, thy can’t help thy self to (Y/n)’s chambers.” Shotaro explains. “Well, what shall dost thou need for help?” Sungchan asked. “With one dauntless armed guard near the gate, thou needs to throw something unbeknownst to him to excel on, with swiftness, thou noiselessly move past thy gate and into her chambers.” Shotaro explains.

As the three friends nod in agreement, they follow with the plan. YangYang and Shotaro promiscuously throw two rocks in a different direction making the near guards run towards the sound. They all erupt from the bushes before Sungchan lifts his friend up and over the gate to meet his fair maiden. Shotaro thanks his friends before ushering towards the balcony to climb, as the other three boys quietly walk back to their villa. With Shotaro in a great state, he climbs up until he finally meets the balcony door of his lover’s room.

Scene vi

Unknown to her, Shotaro pays (Y/n) a visit like he said he would, but is sad to hear the news from his lover that fills her heart with dread.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!” Shotaro whispers from the balcony before knocking. Hurriedly, she rushed to the door to see Shotaro, and opened the door finally seeing his brown orbs staring at her with all the love he had. He entered her room before kissing her lips with so much passion, not wanting to break away from her, but she had to in order for her to bare bad news.

“I missed thee so much.” He whispered. “Me too, but I sadly have horrid news.” You said. You could sense the worry in his body as you looked at him. You let in a huff before telling him. “My parents have arranged a marriage upon me.” Anger filled Shotaro’s body. “To whom will thou be exchanging vows with!?” He asked. “Y-Yuta.” You replied. With heavy hands, Shotaro pounded the desk behind you, rage in his eyes. You wanted to calm him down, but you were very worried about what could happen if you did.

“I have no intention to be courted by him. He is not who is here right now, only thee, I love thee.” You spoke up. Shotaro calmed down looking at you. “Thou doth not wish to be courted by him?” He asked. “No, only thee, I would gladly take thou courtship from thee. I love thee.” You repeat. He came up to you and kissed you passionately. “Then by night…and stars…take thee…and make…thee satisfied…until morn.” Shotaro said between kisses. You nodded your head before replying. “I take thee.” You whispered as he moved you to the soft and comfortable bed.

“Don’t leave…Don’t leave…Don’t leave.” He whispered as his kisses trailed down to your neck. “I’m here Shotaro, I’m here.” You moaned.

Shotaro kissed your neck softly making sure to be gentle with you, not wanting to mess this up for you. He kicked off his shoes before completely moving up onto the bed above your sprawled out body. He looked up at your state, in nothing but a silk robe almost ready for bed before he showed up. You smiled up at him wanting him to continue, his eyes fixated on your silk covered body long enough. “Please Shotaro, please.” You whined. He licked his lips, lust now clouding his thoughts more than ever. He leaned back down to place more kisses against your neck before finally giving in and marking up your soft skin. The suction was a foreign feeling, it was slightly painful, but arousing. You whined in response, making Shotaro smile against your skin, he moved away from the purple mark making sure to kiss it before moving to another part of your neck to deliver another mark near the first one and kissed it as well, he continued this action two more times before removing your robe of your shoulder to expose your collarbones to repeat the same action.

He kissed and marked them up making you sigh into his touch. Loving the way your collarbones looked covered in his marks, he pushed the right side of your robe off your shoulder to expose your right breast. He gasped at your breast, not even thinking that you two would get this far. He stared at round mound, while a small part of your nipple on your left breast peeked out of the remaining piece of the robe left on your chest. Obligated, he removed the left side as well, now your full chest on display for him. He cupped your breasts in his hand before leaning down to kiss and suck at the supple skin on your right breast leaving marks on it, while repeating the same moves to the left. His thumbs grazed over your nipples making you shudder. Finally, he took your nipple into his mouth making you whine.

He sucked the sensitive nipple eagerly, tongue rolling over the bud and flicking it up and down as you gripped his hair, playfully running your fingers through the brown locks. He moved to the other nipple to do the same actions. “Shotaro.” You moaned. You couldn’t bear it, your arousal got the best of you, you needed some sort of friction for your almost practically soaked heat. “Please go f-further.” He gave you a nod before removing his shirt showing his toned body, not making your arousal any better.

He untied the loose belt on the robe as you sat up to help him. You grabbed the robe when it was completely open, and moved it out of your way. Shotaro happy to finally have your body on full display. “So beautiful.” He groaned, his bulge now strained in his pants as he caught a glance of your soaked pussy.

He bent down to kiss the top of your thighs, not wanting to waste any time pleasing you. He kissed towards the inside of your thighs, moving your legs apart to get more access. He was now face to face with your pussy, he looked up at you to make sure it was okay. “Is this good?” He asked. “Yes, please, I need something there.” You replied. With no hesitation, Shotaro wrapped his supple lips around your clit. You threw your head back, eyes closed with pleasure going through your body. He sucked on your sensitive clit, getting you used to the feeling. Your body jolted at the immense sensation that coursed between your legs.

Continuing his movements, Shotaro trailed his tongue to your sopping entrance, licking around it teasing you before using his tongue to lick aggressively at your slit. You felt so violated, how could a tongue have so much control over you? You craved it more, your carnal instincts coming out when he pushed his tongue into your gaping hole. “Ahh, Shotaro!” You moaned. You moved your hand to his hair, while the other one laid on the sheets, bunching up the material. He pushed his tongue in and out of you, preparing you for what was about to come later on, you loved how gentle he was with you, but also liked his initiative to please you.

Shotaro removed his tongue from your entrance and moved up to suck your clit, his finger replacing his tongue from your entrance. “That feels good.” You moaned. You could feel the soft smile spread across his face in between your legs, loving the praise you gave him. He sucked harshly at your clit, trying to build up your release, he knew you were close by the way your toes curled, and your body tensing up, you didn’t even realize you’ve been grinding against his face for the past minute. “Shotaro, close!” You whined. With a groan from his voice, he was ready for your release. With the curl of his digit, and his mouth sucking your bundle of nerves, he used his tongue to claim what was his, he spelled the seven letters into your clit that sent you over the edge. ‘S,H,O,T,A,R,O’ you were his. You convulsed around his finger, his lips still doing a number on you as pleasure took over your entire body. Pants and gasps left your mouth with small whines made you sigh. Shotaro let out a smile, seeing your body go through that much pleasure. Your body sent little shockwaves as you tried to calm down, he removed his finger and mouth that were now covered in both your arousal and release. With the satisfied look on Shotaro’s face, you knew you did well.

“So beautiful.” He comments making you giggle. Not wanting to waste another minute, Shotaro unbuttons his pants to remove them, releasing some of the tension on his strained hard on. You looked at the boy who stood tall above you, nearly naked, only a piece of thin underwear stood in the way. Slowly, he removed his underwear, his length now standing at full attention, his tip leaking precum from how long it’s been confined for.

Your breath hitched as your pussy clenched around nothing staring at his impressive length. He noticed your staring before he moved back up to the bed, and kissed you again while pumping his length in his hand. He looked at you making sure you were ready as he lined himself up with your entrance. You issued him a nod before he rubbed your slit with his tip before entering in slowly.

You gave a choked sound, the pain a little overwhelming. He took in your expression that showed pain, halting his movements into you. “Does it hurt?” He asked. “A little.” You sighed. He held your waist firmly before kissing you to help take away from the pain, after every few seconds, his length inches inside of you. Finally sheathed in you, the pain subsides. “Shotaro…move.”

Shotaro began to move in and out of you slowly, moans soon taking over yours and his throats. The feeling was amazing to you, you felt so secure, and so full, you didn’t think you could feel this way. Each thrust he gave was slow and meaningful, they were also precise enough to hit you at a good angle. Your hands gripped his shoulders, for leverage, holding onto him as his thrusts went harder. Giving more pleasure between the two of you.

Shotaro’s hard thrusts we’re so good that he was able to hit a spot in you that you didn’t even know you had. “Shotaro, there!” You moaned out. Shotaro moved down to your neck hiding in it as he continued his harsh thrusts, moaning into your neck as you clenched around him. “So good (Y/n).” He moaned. You moved your legs to wrap around his torso, feeling a bundle of nerves move from your stomach to your pussy, you were close again, and Shotaro was too. His dick twitched inside of you as his thrusts became sloppy. Only moans could be heard in the room as you both chased your orgasm. Shotaro removed his hand from your waist to vigorously rub at your clit throwing you off the edge. “Let go angel.” He groaned. You released around him. A cry of his name was all that you could utter in the moment. Your pussy clenching hard on his dick making him satisfied before releasing as well. Thick spurts of cum filled you up as you both rode out your highs together giving each other one final kiss as you both began to calm down. Still fully sheathed inside of you, Shotaro flips you two over, as you now lay on top of him. With his hands wrapped around your waist, Shotaro kisses your temple before you both fall into a deep sleep.

Act III

Scene i

As the two lovers awake from their slumber, they are in peace. Tranquil sounds fill the room as they recall last nights’ endeavors.

“Good morn.” You giggle. Shotaro kisses your head and nose before responding. “Good morn, love.” You and Shotaro both cuddle each other, still tight in each other’s embraces as you and your bodies were still tangled within each other from last night.

“We’re still intertwined.” You say, your warm heat still enclosed on Shotaro’s cock. “Yes, we are, doth my love wish to remove herself?” “It depends on if thou can’t take it anymore.” You reply. “Oh, I can handle it, thou feels so warm.” He comments. “But Shotaro, thou has to leave before my mother and father find out.” You said. “Mm, give me a minute, never a morn person.” You giggle at his reply. Even though it’s only been two days, you never realized how easy it is to love a person so much, it felt amazing.

“Come on, let us take a shower to clean off thy sins of last night.” You say removing yourself from his grip and standing up completely bare. Shotaro puts his arm behind his head, and smirks. “I’d rather watch the view, thou looks gorgeous.” You roll your eyes before walking off. “If thou wants to see this, thou should get up and come to the shower.” In a flash, he scurries to the bathroom door as you turn on the shower. You both clean yourselves off, scrubbing each other’s bodies, sharing kisses in between as you hurry to get out of the shower. After a few minutes, you and Shotaro both walk out, towels covering each other’s frames, hair wet, with the same smiles plastered on each other’s faces.

“I needed that.” Shotaro commented. “Me too, now we can get dressed, and find a way to hangout today.” You reply. “I know a way.” Shotaro smirks. He began to kiss your neck, licking at the love marks he left on you last night. “Mm, Taro.” You whimpered. He couldn’t help himself, you looked good coming out of the shower with nothing but a towel on. He removed your towel and you removed his, as you were both about to take it to the bed, but you felt your heart pretty much drop at the sound of a door opening.

“(Y/n) dear, it’s time for, Ahhh!” Your mother shrieked, dropping the glass of juice on the floor. You and Shotaro completely bare, sitting on the edge of the bed was the image your mother had to endure. Frozen, you didn’t know what to think, but Shotaro did, throw on his clothes and go, he hurriedly threw on his pants as your mom stood there anger in her face. As she charged towards you, you sprung for the covers, shielding your body from the open.

“Thou wretched boy how dare thou approach our sanctum!?” Your mother exclaimed as she moved to you. Shotaro was trying to find his shirt from the floor to hurry and leave, but the situation was worse when someone who you did not want to see showed up in your peripheral. “I heard screaming what has happened, OUT!!!” Your father exclaimed, not even giving a second to check out the entire situation. Your father began to charge at Shotaro full speed, luckily Shotaro managed to quickly climb down from the balcony, his chest pounding with adrenaline.

“Don’t you dare come back, if thou do, thou will face thy fury of thee, and surely view thy fiery depths of hell for thy sin put upon thy fruit of my loins!” Your father yelled towards Shotaro. As your dad turned around, you saw how angered he was. His face flustered, veins visible with his temple, eyes seething with rage. You wanted to say something, but you were too scared to. He finally saw the glimpse of the scene in your bedroom, messy sheets, your body only covered by the sheets that lay on top of your bed, a few fixtures from the room out of place, and the discarded clothes on the floor, especially Shotaro’s shirt and underwear finally made him put two and two together, you slept with each other, now even madder than before, he wasn’t going to let bygones be bygones, he needed to get some aggression out, and the only for that to happen was to visit the people who fueled that aggression.

“As I swear by thy world today, if I don’t get my hands on that boy who take away my daughter’s purity, rage that is built up in me shall be as hot as thy wicked in hell.” He seethes before walking out.

Scene ii

Tension has arose within the (L/n) family, now with the unforseen circumstances, their entire vacation now feels like a nightmare, especially for Mr. (L/n).

In a flash, Shotaro has made it home with no questions from his family that is until they overhear a light comment from Haechan that sparks suspicions.

“Oh look who’ comes about, thy man of thy hour, how did sulking in your own love and sin feel?” In that moment, Shotaro wanted to attack Haechan quickly, but was stopped by his parents. “Love and sin? What is thy boy mumbling about?” Mrs. Osaki asked. “Isn’t it obvious honey? Our son has found love, I’m proud.” Mr. Osaki replied. “Well who’s thy beautiful girl that you spark interest with, she must be intriguing.” Mrs. Osaki said. “Quite.” Shotaro commented. “Well don’t purse thy lips together, who doth she be?” Mr. Osaki asked. Haechan, YangYang, and Sungchan all looked at Shotaro with wide eyes, waiting for his answer. “Well, she’s, her name is…” Just then three loud bangs erupted from the door, the Osaki’s and the boys confused as to what the commotion was about. As they looked around noting that they heard the same thing, the banging happened again this time louder, not wanting to anticipate any longer, Mr. Osaki went to the door before opening it, and much to his dismay, was shocked to see a person he wasn’t ready to see.

Scene iii

There stood an angry Mr. (L/n) eyes scanning Mr. Osaki. Both had despised each other deeply, and to even see each other face to face was very surprising to say the least.

“Doth thou son not knoweth of the rules of fondling with my family!?” Mr. (L/n) asked. “What are thou uttering now?” Mr. Osaki replied. “I am talking about thy sins thou son has placed upon my daughter!” Everyone in the Osaki villa looked back at Shotaro anger or shock upon their faces. “Why would thou come up with a preposterous accusation of that nature!?” Mr. Osaki questioned. “Why!? Because thou son has been seen by my and my wife’s eyes for thy matter! They have been bare together, and have laid up through the sins of lust!” “Not lust, love, it is love that binds our young hearts together.” Shotaro speaks up. “Love!? What do thou know about love!? How could my daughter even love such scum that walk!? You’re ridiculous, you’re just as incompetent as your father!” “How dare thou speak to my son! Thou has no right to speak of thy relations that spill from thou mouth, thou is a pretentious hob knob that cares about nothing in thy world but thou own’s personal gain, do not blame my son for this mess, when thou daughter could be a glorified rich earned whore!”

With that there issued a punch to Mr. Osaki’s nose, the rage and fury finally drove Mr. (L/n) to his breaking point. Mr. Osaki stumbled back, the boys and Mrs. Osaki frozen at the scene. Mr. Osaki went and lunged at Mr. (L/n), punching him across his jaw. Eventually the fight continued, both men throwing punches left and right at each other, blood and bruises gathering on their faces. Mr. (L/n) took one hit to Mr. Osaki making him fall to the ground. “I always knew thou was a weakling, couldn’t even say no to others, and now look at thee, scattered across his own floor.” Mr. (L/n) scoffed. Suddenly, Mr. Osaki stood back up and gave Mr. (L/n) a really hard punch giving him a bloody nose. “I may be a weakling, but at least I don’t put up a facade of money and status to hide mine.” Mr. (L/n) then attacked Mr. Osaki by pushing him down, now punching him multiple times at once, his knuckles were covered with blood, while Mr. Osaki grunted from the pain. The boys and Mrs. Osaki pulled Mr. (L/n) off of his body, holding him steady as Mrs. Osaki went to check on her injured husband. Sadly, the strength of the four boys was too weak to hold Mr. (L/n) and with that he punched Shotaro across his jaw. Shotaro covered his mouth making sure there was no teeth or blood involved. “Stay away from my daughter.” He threatened. Mrs. Osaki saw enough and was ready to combust, this man has interrupted their vacation and has now beat up her husband and punched her son, she was pissed. “Get out! Thou shall be banned from our place immediately, go go!” She yelled before following him and closing the door after his way out.

Scene iv

As the fight and eruptions calm down, the Osaki household has some issues to resolve. One being of how to resolve the complications that came from Mr. (L/n).

“Thou are not to speak of this matter understand!? All four of thee are to go upstairs, thou three help Shotaro, and Shotaro, thou are not to interact with that tramp ever again! Do thou understand!?” Mrs. Osaki exclaimed. The boys nodded quickly before following orders.

“That was some blow thou took!” YangYang spoke. “Can we not talk about that right now, my father was almost murdered by a psycho!” “What is thou about to do?” Sungchan asked. “Nothing. We are still here for almost two weeks, I can make up with (Y/n) before we leave, I love her, and I won’t let that crazed man stand between us. “Thou is brave.” Haechan comments.

Just then, Mr. and Mrs. Osaki barge into Shotaro’s room. “I-, I just- WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? Did thou not listen to my orders when I say the (L/n)’s are bad people!?” Mr. Osaki yelled. “I’m sorry, but thou shouldn’t be mad about love, thou said it was a wonderful thing.” Shotaro replied. “Well maybe thou loves the wrong person, this time.” Mrs. Osaki said starkly. “Well at this point it doesn’t matter anymore because we are leaving right now! Pack your bags!” Mr. Osaki commanded. “W-why?” Haechan asked. “Why!? Because a foul creature has evaded my vacation home and has shunned me and my family, that’s why. Shotaro, thou will never speak to her again, and that’s final, if so, then thou should drop the name of Osaki till thou’s last days.”

At that moment, Shotaro’s heart sank how is he supposed to leave without saying goodbye, he wouldn’t do it. “No, why should I leave just because thou two hate each other!? I’d rather die a thousand deaths before leaving my one true love!” “Shotaro thou are leaving with us and that is final!” Mrs. Osaki said, putting Shotaro back in his place. He didn’t say another word, and began to pack, his friends showing worry in their eyes as Shotaro aggressively packed his bags, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I’ll miss her. I love her.” He mumbled.

Scene v

As the afternoon came along, you sat and waited for everything to settle down, not even thinking about your parents, only Shotaro and when he would come back.

You looked out your balcony. Hopefully Shotaro will come back, you had to see him again. The anticipation was driving you crazy. Everything here was very rough when your father walked out for a few hours. Your mother scolded you, explaining how wrong it was to sleep with someone they despised as well as sleeping with someone while you were engaged. She even tried to scrub the love bites that Shotaro left on you last night, it only made your skin dry and irritated with how hard she was scrubbing.

Suddenly, the door opened, hoping it was Shotaro, it was your parents, you looked at your father, his face was covered in scratches, bruises, and dried blood making you gasp. He noticed your worried expression before answering.

“It was Osaki, he did this, I confronted him about his son, and he just attacked me, I tried to fend for myself, but I was useless. He obviously hates us because of our previous issues, but now it’s worse since thou have sinned with that boy, therefore thou is forbidden to see him.” Your father spoke. “What, no thou can’t do that, I love him!” You exclaim. “Well, then I guess it won’t be hard for thee to love Yuta when thy marriage complete. It happens in three weeks, a week from when we go back home.” Your mother explained. “No, I don’t want to be married to anyone other than Shotaro!” You yell, tears welling in your eyes. “(Y/n), this marriage is binding and that is final! And if I so hear one word about that Osaki kid coming anywhere near thee again, then so help me I will make it be his last.” Your father commented. “And just so thou doth not get any ideas… she will have these doors locked shut for her well being.” Your dad said before locking the balcony doors and walking out with your mother before shutting the door and locking it as well. “No! Thou can’t do this, let me see him please!” You sob behind the door. “Goodnight my daughter.” Your parents both said in sync. You silently sob into your pillow, wanting to see Shotaro again.

Shotaro Epilogue

The Osaki’s and the boys boarded the plain swiftly, all upset that their trip had to end over petty drama. The only ones sympathetic about the situation was Haechan, YangYang, and Sungchan who have never seen their best friend so crushed before, they knew that he obviously loved you and couldn’t let go, but he had to. All the stuff that he did was for you, and he’d be willing to do it all again if it meant to see you. He clutched his heart the entire time, completely heartbroken, eyes bloodshot from how much he cried about missing you. His only regret was never kissing you goodbye. But he has also learned a pretty good life lesson, love at first sight is real, but don’t be a fool enough to fall for it. As the plane began to take off he shed one final tear before the plane left the ground. “Goodbye my love.” He whispered quietly.

(Y/n) Epilogue

You had come to find out that the Osaki’s left the night of your father’s fight with Mr. Osaki, you were crushed, how could he leave? How could Shotaro leave. What was worse was that you found out one week after they left, depressed about your lover, you were crushed. He was the one you wanted to marry, the one you wanted to start a family with, live with him together forever. Now, you sit at home getting ready for the wedding reception for today, but you were very nauseous. Throwing up left and right since last night, once you peed on the small blue stick, it made sense, no period, the vomiting, and mood swings, you were pregnant, so now, you are getting married to the wrong man, you’re pregnant, and now, your lover and father of your child has departed from you, what a way to end all that you and Shotaro have stayed together for. “(Y/n) darling, are you ready?” Your mother asked. “No, but if it makes everyone else happy, then sure.” Everyone gets happiness but you and Shotaro, the boy who you will always love.

97 notes · View notes

chan-skz · 4 years ago

Text

Going back the way we've come

Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Summary: You didn't want to go, but forced by your parents, you gave in. Your relationship with Hyunjin hadn't started very well, after reuniting years later, you realized that a lot of things had changed. but for some reason, you couldn't push him away.

Words: ~ 7.5k

Genre: Fluff, smut (around the end), slight angst

Warning(s): Making out, Oral (f receiving), Fingering, Kinda raw language, Semi-public, Light choking, Light overstimulation, Teasing under table

Note: This is part of the christmas collab I'm doing w/ @hanflix and many other writers. I tried my best to give it a holiday vibe, but I guess I totally failed hahah.

A/N: This is the longest fic I've ever written for now, and I also tried my best in writing it, so I really hope you'll enjoy it! English isn't my first language, so I'm really sorry if there's any mistakes or non-senses.

Your fingers tightened around the collar of your coat, the cold breeze gently hitting your face. You cursed yourself for not having listened to your mother when she insisted for you to take a scarf, arguing that it would be colder than usual.

"Fuck winter." You said when you got back under the shelter of the bus stop, collapsing on the bench next to your bestfriend, where he was sitting.

"Hi to you too, Y/n." Jisung laughed.

"Sorry, really not in a good mood." You said, glancing around, noticing that besides you, there were few other people waiting for the bus.

"Do you want to talk about it though?" He continued.

"Well." You began, sitting correctly on the seat and turning to him, announcing your long speech in advance. He knew you by heart. "I argued with my mom about a stupid decision she and my dad made. They want me to spend Christmas Eve with them and some old friends of theirs! Do you realize that? I don't even know them! She told me they had a son of my age and that I was bestfriend with him when I was younger, as that would some how change my mind. Christmas is supposed to be between families, not strangers."

"Are you done?" He asked when he saw you cross your arms against your chest and sigh even more on the bench. He was really trying to keep from laughing at your despondency. "It's not funny Sungie! I'm really serious!" You complained. "How did I found myself having to spend almost a boring evening with complete strangers?"

"You could come and spend it with me if you really don't want to spend it with your parents' friends." He suggested.

"Are you serious?" You asked, suddenly straightening up, hope shining in your eyes.

"Will your parents accept, though?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No." Your mother firmly refused.

"But why!" You whined through the phone, kicking your foot at the pile of snow in front of you, in frustration

"Because Christmas should be celebrated with the family, honey."

"Family.. We don't even pass it between real family." You whispered to yourself, rolling your eyes, before setting your gaze on your best friend who was still waiting for you at the entrance of the high school.

"It's not the same thing!" She exclaimed loudly through the phone, forcing you to move your phone away from your ear. "Do you really want to stay with them on Christmas Eve anyway?"

"But Jisung offered it to me! He even told me that his parents wouldn't even mind!" You exclaimed in your turn. "You yourself know how much they love me!" You added in hope that it will change her mind.

"It's still no, the discussion is closed." She concluded, before hanging up on you. You sighed in frustration, kicking one last on the snow pile before turning back to your best friend. You weren't in the mood it was clear.

"So?" Jisung asked as you approached him.

"She said no." You answered, walking past him to enter the school. "But don't worry, I'm going to keep pushing when I get home, she says the discussion is over, but I'll keep pushing the subject."

"You really don't want to spend it with their friends, do you?" Jisung chuckled when he saw how persistent you were.

"As they say, perseverance always pays off." You gave him a smile, letting him know you weren't going to drop the case that easily.

"Yeah, but I don't think that's gonna work." Before you could answer, a group of girls down the hall caught your eye. You glanced at each other in disbelief as you approached your group of friends.

"What's going on over there." You asked curiously, as you opened your locker to deposit your things in.

"Ah, just a new student." Jeongin just shrugged, not looking away from his phone, too focused on his game.

"Damn, he's this special to create so much enthusiasm." You continued, taking your books in your arms before closing your locker and leaning against it.

"I heard he was handsome, rich, tall. The pure cliché you know." Changbin added, earning amused looks from all of you. "What? I only rehearsed what I heard, I didn't even saw the guy yet."

"My only question is who would get transfered to a new school a day before winter break? It's so unlikely." You were curious to know who this new kid was, since he already had girls at his feet when it's barely been a day since he arrived.

"I really don't know." Changbin shrugged. "But I also heard he was from your hometown. You must know him."

"No luck, I don't even remember a lot of things from back there." You were still a little surprised that he also came from your hometown, but despite all that, it didn't change your opinion of him.

"Merry Christmas!" Felix came out of nowhere, dressing ridiculously in rudolph. Totally his type. You couldn't help but burst out laughing at his outfit. The day before, you all had agreed to dress in a holiday theme, but it was clear that someone surely hadn't understood the real concept.

"What the fuck, Lix." Jeongin said, finally turning his attention away from his game to judge his friend. "When I suggested yesterday that we could dress like it was Christmas, I didn't actually mean to dress up like this."

You kinda felt bad for Felix as he looked disappointed at the judgment of the youngest.

"Rah, you are so boring." Felix said, crossing his arms over his chest before pretending to sulk.

"Okay, pass me your red nose." You added, rolling your eyes as Felix's face lit up.

"It's good now?" You asked rhetorically, placing the red ball on yours.

"Looks like a real clown now. Your makeup wasn't enough, but with that nose you really look like one now." Jisung said amused, making the whole gang laugh, except you obviously.

"I swear to you that one day I'll kill you." You threatened him, hitting his forearm causing him to whine in pain.

"Ow- damn you hit real hard-"

"Y/n? Y/n Y/l/n?" A familiar voice called you out, making everyone turn around. You then suddenly found yourself facing a guy that neither of you knew. You surely assumed to be the new student.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" You had to admit that the fact that this tall guy knew your name freaked you out.

"Don't you recognize me? Hyunjin. We went to the same elementary school." The so-called Hyunjin indicated, making you frown at his words. But your brain still didn't seem to recognize him despite how hard you tried to remember who it could be.

"I'm so sorry, but you must be wrong on the person. I really don't know you." This time you raised an eyebrow and looked him over from head to toe. You couldn't deny that he was handsome, even though you didn't know him.

"He's from your hometown, there's a chance he's right." Chris pointed, once the guy had left. You sigh in exasperation. "I don't remember him anyway. So whether he's right or not, it doesn't really matter."

You threw yourself on your bed, almost screaming into your pillow in frustration. Again, you tried to convince your parents, but it was a complete failure like this morning. They were really determined that you go with them, even though you had made it clear to them that you didn't want to. You spent long minutes looking at your reflection through the mirror in your bathroom. Did you have to wear a dress and full makeup to go to a stupid Christmas dinner? Obviously, it was your mother who forced you.

The red dress she chose for you was quite tight and followed every curve of your body. But it was either that or nothing, since you would've been allowed to wear something more comfortable. Everything had to be perfect, you rolled your eyes recalling the words of your mother, and also of your father. You didn't understand either why you had agreed to wear high heels, your feet were hurting horribly and the freezing winter cold really didn't help your situation. It was snowing and you were forced to wear these heels anyway, that's how your parents exaggerated. Luckily, there was no ice, otherwise you would've tripped and humiliated yourself in the middle of the entrance. You were torn from your thoughts when the front door opened, and revealing a quite beautiful lady about your mother's age.

"Y/m/n!" The lady exclaimed with a big smile, softly giggling as your mother returned the same energy to her. She wasted no time to make you get in and hugging your mom and shaking your father's hand. Once you got in her facial expression only lit up even more.

"Y/n! Woah, you've grown so much!" She indicated by taking you in your arms too. "You've become so beautiful, I'm sure Hyunjin would agree." She said with a slight smirk. Hearing his name made you choke on your own saliva. You tensed, but managed to fake a smile, even though you were praying inside that you had misheard. Unfortunately for you, all your doubts were confirmed when you walked into the living room and found yourself face to face with Hyunjin.

"Damnit.." You cursed under your breath, when you came to sit on the couch in front of his and according to the face he expressed, he seemed to have heard you. Lucky for you, none of the other adults next to you seemed to have heard it. You could feel his intense gaze on you, and it lowkey made you anxious.

"Dinner's not ready yet, because we got too caught up at the last minute, so sorry." Hyunjin's mother laughed lightly. "I know the kids won't want to wait here all along, so maybe they could go do something else until it's ready."

If you could think that the night couldn't get any worse, you were completely wrong.

"Stop following me." Hyunjin suddenly turned as he walked up the stairs. Making you roll your eyes.

"I 'follow' you, because I have nowhere else to go and I would rather stay with you than stay with them for a second. Their 'good old days' really don't interest me." You crossed your arms against your chest, defying him with your gaze.

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes, before turning around. His room was quite large, almost double yours. You made sure to sit in the opposite side of the room. You then found yourself sitting on the sofa while he was lying on his bed, both phones in hand. Your phones keep you busy, making you forget the awkward tension.

"How could you not recognize me?" Hyunjin suddenly asked, distracting you from the video you were watching.

"Do I really have to?" You looked away from your phone to focus on Hyunjin, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed and facing you.

"Did I change that much?" He said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"We knew each other when we were kids, now we are adults, what do you expect? I can't recognize everyone I was friends with in my childhood at one glance." You said in a mocking voice. "I don't even understand why you keep pushing so hard for me to remember you, but if you really want to, just show me what you looked like when you were a baby. It would surely refresh my memory."

You didn't expect that he would actually do it. But your eyes widened when you saw the little boy in the picture. You recognized him right there. Your heart pounded at the realization, but you tried to pull yourself together. It was stupid to react so exaggeratedly just because you realized you were facing your childhood best friend, your first love. Finally you didn't really know if when you were young you really loved him, because after all, you were still kids, the meaning of love wasn't real known, nor understood.

"Stop Hyunjin, you're hurting him!" You yelled at him to let go of your friend's sweater, Chris.

"No! How dare he touch you! Only I have the right to give you a hug!" Hyunjin frowned, looking at you before quickly looking back at your friend, who just let it go, finding his jealousy quite ridiculous.

"But I was the one who gave him a hug." You started, finding his possessiveness frustrating.

You couldn't help but have a small smile forming at the corner of your lips at the flashback of this event. And you couldn't control your teasing.

"So how's your jealousy? Are you still so possessive of a temper?" You said amused, expecting him to becomes slightly shy and sulky as you pointed out his toxic trait, but what you didn't expect was for him to smile and look down on you.

"Oh, why do you want to know that? Unless you want me to show you what true possessiveness is." He smirked, looking you up and down. Your own smile faded as he watched you closely, making you feel oddly exposed to him in that tight, cropped dress.

"What do you mean?" You pulled yourself together again and asked, raisong an eyebrow.

"Well, I wouldn't have thought you would've had so many guy friends." His comment frustrated you for some reasons. After years apart, as soon as you meet again does he really have to get jealous over the fact that you have a lot of opposite sex friends? You really didn't like it.

"Does it even matter anyway?" You asked insistently. At your reaction, Hyunjin's expression changed, becoming more nonchalant again.

"Nevermind." He got up from the sofa he was leaning on and went to lie back on his bed. You took advantage of him not looking at you to detail him. You couldn't deny that puberty had blessed him, making him not only beautiful, but also extremely attractive. His hair, which he had dyed blond, was slightly messy, but enough to make it look quite classy.

"Do you like staring at me?" He asked rhetorically, but as you were about to deny, he continued. "No need to deny it, the trickle of drool at the corner of your mouth is proof of that."

Seeing your panicking face, he laughed out loud. Quickly running your hand over the corner of your mouth, you finally realized that he was only messing with you from the start. As you opened your mouth to clap back at him, you heard your mother's voice calling you from downstairs, informing both of you that the dinner was ready. Hyunjin didn't miss the glare you gave him as you sat face to face at the dining table. He could've simply ignored it, but the little smirk that appeared on your lips worried him slightly. He had a bad feeling.

Your parents were talking and laughing with each other, paying almost no attention to you two, which gave you the best opportunity to tease Hyunjin. For his part, he was frustered when he felt something caress his leg. Looking down he saw your foot caressing his leg, he wasted no time pushing you away, finding the whole thing quite inappropriate as you found yourself at the table with both of your parents. But you didn't give up, in fact you were determined to make him restless. You restarted your gesture, but this time, taking advantage of his man spread, you deflected your touching on his crotch. You knew he was going to lose his temper at this action and your doubts were confirmed when he jumped at the feeling of your heel pressing against his crotch.

"Hyunjin, are you okay?" His mother asked, slightly worried. You could see a pinkish tinge forming on Hyunjin's cheeks and you had to admit he was so cute like that.

"And yes, y-yes. It's okay, I just banged my knee against the table, sorry." He managed to convince the others. After all, he wasn't going to openly say that you were touching his dick under the table. Stop that, he mimicked, his gaze changing dramatically to become more firmer, but it only made you keep going, finding his reaction funny and extremely entertaining. Suddenly he got up from the table, apologizing to your parents and pretending he wasn't hungry, so he could get away from that family dinner. Not wanting to be alone with them, you did the same, sighing in relief when you in turn managed to sneak out of that Christmas dinner. Except you weren't expecting to be tackled by a pretty angry Hyunjin from the moment you stepped into his room. You then found yourself stuck between him and the wall, his arms placed on each side of your body, blocking you from escaping from his grip. Besides his tall figure, which made him quite intimidating, didn't help your case.

"If you were so desperate for my cock, you should've told me." He said in a dangerously calm voice.

"What are you talking about?" You manage to say, completely confused.

"Oh don't be innocent. You really think this is a game, don't you? Do you think teasing my cock around our parents is fun?" You bit your lip and your eyes widened when he grabbed your hand and put it on his bulge for you to feel it, which was quite hard.

"You feel it? Now I'm fucking hard." He said in a long sigh of pleasure, feeling your fingers trace his length. He then leaned against your ear, his hot breath giving you chills.

"From the moment I met you again, I knew straight away that I didn't want to just be friends with you." You still couldn't quite assimilate the situation you currently found yourself in and it was only when he leaned against your ear to whisper those words to you with his deep voice that you finally broke out of your thoughts. Suddenly you pushed him away, forcing him to pull away from you and step back. He looked at you completely lost, not understanding your sudden action and to tell the truth, you didn't understand what had taken you neither. You couldn't deny that this whole situation had made you slightly aroused, but it was too soon. No sooner had you met again than you already found yourself doing dirty things? It was going a little too fast for your liking.

"That-that won't work, I'm so sorry." You avoided his gaze in embarrassment. After a few moments of silence, you finally returned your gaze to Hyunjin, who was now looking at you completely detached. And to be honest, his expression hurted you, but you tried to hide it. You knew you ruined your evening, that's why you decided to end up speanding it with your parents. It was quite boring, but at least it allowed you to escape the discomfort that would've been present between you and Hyunjin, if you stayed with him.

"And? What did you do?" Jisung asked excitedly. A few days later, you had wasted no time summoning Jisung, your best friend, to tell him what had happened to you. But no sooner had the story started than he was already feeling excited, obviously expecting you and Hyunjin to have done it.

"I pushed him away." You simply said, looking as if you didn't care about it. Even though a few days later, you were still mentally slapping yourself for pushing him away so coldly. While deep down, you wished things had turned out differently.

"What did you do?" Jisung repeated slowly, his excitement fading.

"I pushed him away and even told him that it wouldn't work between us." You closed your eyes, anticipating his reaction.

"Oh my god, I have never known a girl so stupid." Jisung said in exasperation. "You literally had the chance before you and you didn't even take it."

"I know!" You pouted. "It's just that I realized this when it was too late. I was in the living room with my parents, you really expected me to go back to his room and take back everything that I said and did to him?"

You concluded ironically before crossing your arms against your chest and sighing in exasperation.

"Well that was an option that you unfortunately didn't take and which could've prevented from finding yourself in this situation." He dramaticallyraised his hot chocolate cup to face, making you roll your eyes.

"I'm seriously starting to regret telling you this story and even offering to go out. You really aren't helping me."

"It's too hard not to judge you when you literally make so many stupid decisions, sorry." He said, chuckling at your annoyed reaction. "Ah, by the way, I almost forgot to mention it, but Changbin is throwing a new year party tomorrow and he told me to force you to come."

At the mention of a party, you whined. You didn't like parties, you preferred to stay at home, doing nothing, rather than partying among people you didn't know.

"Tell him back that despite you forcing me, I'm not coming." You said directly.

"Please, for once come on. And it'll help you to forget about your night with Hyunjin." Jisung begged you. It was very rare that you attended parties organized by your friends, one because you didn't like the vibe, but you also didn't understand the usefulness of getting high and drunk. But coming to think of it, not only did you want to forget the shit you had caused, but you also felt like getting wasted.

"Fine."

You scrambled through the room, the wave of dancing people glued to each other began to make you sick. Your glass in hand, you passed through all these people, until you finally got off the dance floor. You shiver slightly when you feel the light cold breeze brush your exposed legs. You were already regretting having put on such a short dress. It wasn't really ideal to go out so exposed, but it was the only evening dress you had.

"Looks like you're bored." Felix's deep voice surprised you, making you jump.

"Oh my god!" You exclaimed in surprise. almost dropping your drink. "You scared me."

You hit his forearm, making him laugh out loud.

"No, but seriously you look really bored." He said, calming down. You just nodded, it was true that you were slowly starting to regret coming. Your dress that bothered you, the alcohol that took too long to hit you, and the cold freezing were all the reason of it.

"Do you want to come with me play truth or dare? Changbin and the other boys were organizing it." He proposed to you, not failing to see you looking with disgust at the gathering of people completely wasted and grinding on each other. You accepted, telling yourself that it might change your mind. You didn't know this kind of game was still being played at parties, but you were curious enough what kind of dares and truths other players will throw themselves into. Obviously, you should've expected to see Hyunjin as soon as you set a foot in the room, which seemed to be Changbin's room, accompanied by Felix. Other than this one, Hyunjin and even Changbin, you didn't really know the other participants, but even then you cursed yourself for not thinking for a second that Hyunjin might be there too. You blushed slightly when you noticed him contemplating your body shamelessly. You thanked the lord for making the room a little dark, only a lamp on the floor on the floor litening the room.

"Y/n!" Changbin exclaimed with joy when he saw you, glad you came. Coming to hug you, only to ruffle your hair.

"Stop." You giggled. "You ruined my hairstyle." You pouted.

"Ohh, it's okay, you're beautiful the way you are." He said, making you blush. Changbin treated you like his little sister, his way to make you comfortable no matter the situation would always surprise you. Your interaction didn't go out of Hyunjin's attention. From the corner of the room he watched you silently, paying no attention to the girl beside him who was desperately seeking his attention.

"Are we starting or not?" Felix complained loudly, drawing attention to himself.

"We're just waiting for Jisung and Jeongin." No sooner had Changbin finished his sentence than your two friends entered the room, their arms laden with drinks.

"To spice up the game!" Jisung exclaimed as he placed the bottles on the ground, beside the circle you had formed. You had hesitated for a moment to sit down, your short dress really bothering you, obviously you didn't want others to have an easy view of your panties. You were then offered by Changbin his jacket to cover your lap, clearly having noticed your struggle.

"Thank you." You smiled at him, before kneeling on the floor and covering your legs with his jacket.

"Ok, we all know the game rules, right? But this time, if you don't want to answer the truth or don't want to do a dare, you're going to have to take two shots of vodka." Jeongin vaguely explained. "Okay, I'm starting."

He leaned over to spin the bottle, stopping in front of Changbin.

"Truth or dare." Jeongin asked with a smirk at the corner of his lips. It was in those moments that his inner devil was coming out.

"Truth." Changbin said. "I don't trust you enough to pick dare when it comes to you." He added suspiciously.

"What's your body count?" Jeongin asked, ignoring his friend's comment.

"Do I need to have slept with them?" He asked, waiting for the clarification of the younger. He took time to think.

"Then I think around 15, if not even more." He nodded. Hearing this number, you almost choked.

"15?! What the hell?!" You turned to Changbin, your eyes widening. "You better spill the tea, mr.Don Juan."

The game went on, you had to admit it was pretty funny seeing some people taking two shots of vodka and gradually get drunk just because they didn't want to do something, or even see some people do of stupid things. Well, until Hyunjin's turn came and he had the misfortune of being told what to do by Jisung.

"Truth or dare, Hyunjin." He asked him with a smile, which the world that didn't know him might consider innocent, but knowing him very well, you knew he was up to no good.

"I guess, dare?" He answered.

"I dare you to make out for a minute with the girl you find the most attractive in the room." As soon as Jisung's words came out of his mouth, his turned gaze to you. You rolled your eyes when you had eye contact with your best friend. Seeing how the girl, who was sitting next to Hyunjin, looked quite pretty and looked so interested in him, you expected him to turn to kiss her. But you were a little taken aback, when he got up to approach you to kneel down in front of you, ignoring the complaints of the girl you think was one of his fangirls at school.

"Wait what?" Your eyes widened, completely lost. Your heart quickly started race up as you saw him lean towards you.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked quietly. You really didn't know what to add, you were literally wordless. Subconsciously, you started to nod your head gently, giving him your consent. When your lips touched, it was as if no one existed around you. The exclamations of surprise that other people around you were expressing went over your head.

Hyunjin's lips were soft, the kiss you exchanged was initially passionate, but the longer the seconds passed the hotter it got. Without thinking too much, you wrapped your arms around the older man's neck, pulling him closer to you, as he grabbed your hips. Too absorbed in each other, you hadn't noticed that the minute had already passed and it was only when Jisung called you out that you finally came out of your reverie, instantly detaching yourself from Hyunjin.

You blushed slightly when you felt a light trickle of drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, you pressed to wipe it off quickly with the back of your hand. Hyunjin, for his part, just licked his lips, giving you a smirk, knowing that this action would destabilize you even more. Clearing your throat afterwards, you for sure wanted to divert the attention others had on you, while Hyunjin, sat down next to you with a big smile on his face, not caring that all the attention was on you. After all he had finally kissed you, which he had wanted to do since the dinner with your parents, so nothing else mattered. Your thoughts wandered elsewhere as the game continued its course. You couldn't think of anything other than Hyunjin's lips on yours, his kiss had made you lose your head. Your mind was engulfed in unhealthy thoughts and it didn't take you long before you felt yourself being drowned by your own mind.

"I-I think I'm going to go." You huffed, feeling a pleasant, but quite uncomfortable heat growing between your legs. You were clearly starting to feel bad. You didn't give Changbin or Hyunjin time to speak as you got up and quickly left the room. The loud sound of the music playing backwards was much more audible once in the hallway, it's precisely at this moment that you could gradually feel the influence of alcohol washing you off. Luckily for you, you found the bathroom easily.

"Y/n?" You heard Hyunjin calling you, but you didn't pay him any attention to him when he hesitantly walked in. You were propped up against the bathroom counter, staring at your reflection through the mirror, it was easily recognizable that you were not feeling well. Your cheeks were red, your breath quickened and your eyes slightly narrowed.

"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly, approaching you, but he resigned himself when he saw you stepping back when he tried to come closer.

"Stop playing with me." You finally said, turning to face him. You couldn't help but slightly laugh bitterly when he looked at you in confusion, obviously not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Seriously Hyunjin, what do you want from me." You rolled your eyes, "You tell me straight up that you want more than just a friendship with me, when it had only been one evening that we met again. Things have changed Hyunjin, I've changed, you've changed. We're not the same as when we were still children." He was silent for a moment, looking deep in his thoughts, before he resigned himself to saying something.

"I understand that we are no longer children. And from the moment I saw you again I understood it very well. You must think I'm talking nonsense, but just seeing you and talking to you again last time, I don't know why, i had the same feelings i had when we were young."

He stopped talking to approach you slowly, making sure first that you weren't going to distance yourself from him.

"I'm very serious. I'm really not trying to play with your feelings, nor you in general." His gaze reflected a slight sadness. He was genuinely afraid of being rejected by you, even after his speech.

"How could I believe you?" You asked, hesitantly whether you should take him seriously or not.

"If you give me a chance, I swear I could prove it to you." You felt butterflies in your stomach at his words. You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it immediately, you really didn't know what to say. And he looked pretty determined.

"I hope you're not going to make me regret it then." You manage to say. At your answer, his face lit up. He was anxious that you would reject him, that you would tell him that his 'confession' was absurd, but he felt a huge weight off his shoulders at your words. His gaze wandered over your lips for a few seconds, before he glanced quickly behind him.

"I-" He started slowly, looking suddenly slightly embarrassed. "Can I kiss you?"

His question made you smile for real this time, finding his reaction rather unexpected and ironic, given of what had happened earlier.

"Really, Hyunjin? You literally kissed me in front of dozens of people and now you're getting all embarrassed." You teased him. "So cute."

At your last comment, his expression changed dramatically. Suddenly, he leaned over and grabbed your chin, forcing you to lock your eyes with his.

"Me, cute?" He tilted his head to the side, his gaze languishing in your face, as if to memorize every detail. "You sure about that?" All trace of embarrassment had disappeared from his attitude. He looked more than serious and you couldn't deny that you liked this new facade of him.

"Why don't you show it to me then?" You didn't know where that line, or even that daring, had come from, but you didn't complain when Hyunjin's lips rested on yours for the second time that evening. The kiss was way more intense than the one you had shared earlier. Hotter and more eager. You gasped in surprise as Hyunjin grabbed you by the back of your thighs to lift you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. Your dress, which was already short, rose at this gesture, giving him easy access to your ass. Placing yourself on the bathroom counter, you were slightly disappointed when he pulled away from you, breaking your kiss. You looked at him with puppy eyes, as he turned around to close the bathroom door and lock it.

"Just making sure we won't be disturbed." He smirked, taking full notice of your desperate look. He wasted no time before stepping back between your legs, his lips joining yours for a warm kiss once again.

"Fuck, you don't know how many times I've fantasized about being like this with you since the last time." He whispered in admiration, as he kissed the path up to your neck, where he teasingly bit your soft spot which he found easily. You suppressed a small moan at his gesture, your fingers venturing into his long curls and pulling them gently. You could tell he liked it by the deep moan he made.

"You left me so hard when you ran away last time." He straightened up to look at you straight in the eyes, the sheer desire burning through his gaze making you feel in a certain way you could describe as sinful.

"I was afraid I had done something wrong when you pushed me away. I even felt bad for getting so excited after you teased me under the table in the presence of our parents." The tone of his voice clearly reflected nostalgia.

"But don't feel bad. I just panicked at the time." You smiled at him, passing a hand on his cheek to reassure him.

"And if I'm being honest, the situation got me excited too." You confessed shyly. Your revelation relaxed him slightly, but also boosted his confidence.

"Really?" He asked rhetorically, stroking your thighs with his fingertips. Your heart race increased as he rushed to drop hungry kisses down your collarbone, wasting no time slipping your sleeve, giving him a perfect access to the base of your breasts.

"Fuck.. Please..." You moaned, wiggling lightly against him, begging him for more, which made him smirk in satisfaction. You were as desperate for him as he was for you.

"My baby is so impatient. So sweet." He chuckled, visibly enjoying seeing you so hopeless for him to touch you intimately. It didn't take him long before he decided to finally slid his hand between your thighs, easily finding your clit, his fingers rubbing it so skillfully.

"I can already feel your wetness." He bit his lower lip, his dark eyes focusing on your face contracted with pleasure. You were so beautiful.

"Lay down." You were torn from your little cloud of pleasure again, when he removed his touch from your panties to remove it entirely, exposing your soaked pussy to him. You leaned back as he ordered, leaning back against the mirror behind you and opening your legs wide for him to give him an easy access to what he wanted the most right now. You knew seeing yourself so exposed and vulnerable just for him, hugely turned him on. The visible bulge on his crotch being the proof.

"You look so fucking good, baby." He said, licking his lips, obviously pleased pf the way you were already dripping just for him, when he barely touched you. Not breaking eye contact, he knelt between your legs, gripping your thighs to keep them firmly open, before languidly licking your cunt, stickinf his tongue inside of you. Your fingers found his hair again, gripping it tightly when Hyunjin suddenly began to suck on your sensitive swollen clit. You couldn't stop a few moans from escaping, even though you were trying the best you could to not to be too loud. Your hips subconsciously bucked against his face, forcing him to wrap his arms around your hips so that he could stabilize you moving too much. He intended to make you scream his name with pleasure and he wanted to do it the right way. You felt like you were losing your mind when the way he was eating you out changed, getting much more rougher and hungrier. He then suddenly slipped a finger, then a second, inside you, touching your weak spot with every pump and strock of his fingers.

"Hyunjin.. Too much.." You moaned, squirming more and more under his grip on you with each of his moves. Your thoughts were clouded with pleasure, dizzying your mind. You couldn't think properly anymore, only your orgasm, that you could feel was getting closer and closer, was the only thing you could think about. The tension, which you could feel building in your lower abdomen, exploded as Hyunjin once again eagerly wrapped his lips around your clit. Your eyes rolled back, as your orgasm washed you away, making you moan loudly in ecstasy. Seeing you come around his fingers and his mouth didn't make him stop his movements. You had to beg him to stop when it got too much for you to handle. His mouth and chin were almost dripping with your juice, giving his lips an delicious shine. You felt empty when his fingers slipped off you, but you ignored it, straightening up quickly and pulling him back into a sloppy kiss, where you clearly tasted yourself on his tongue. Your hands were hanging from the waistband of his pants, which you delicately untied during your erotic exchange. You desperately wanted to feel his cock, which you could feel was already hard enough, between your lips and at the very thought, you could feel your pussy getting wetter than before.

"My good girl is so desperate for my cock?" He whispered between your lips, the sudden nickname and the hand that came wrapping around your throat made you feel much more excited and eager for him. You moaned slightly in contentment at the pleasant feeling he made you feel just by his actions and presence. You went to answer him, but was cut off by what happened outside.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Happy New Year!" The loud mixed voices of people still partying echoed throughout the house. At this understanding, you looked at each other for a few moments, before involuntarily bursting into laughter.

"New year, new girl, which means new resolutions. That's all I can say about it." He said, giving you a wink full of innuendos. Blushing, you couldn't hide the smile that crept onto your lips.

"I think it's the same for me then." You declared in admiration in your turn, matching his vibe.

"Good, because I have every intention of making up for the lost time." He whispered seductively. "In every sense of the word." His last words gave you shivers of anticipation. You knew you were in there for a long ride. After all, maybe the special connection you had as a kid hadn't changed at all.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids smut hours #hyunjin smut #stray kids hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #skz hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut hours #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #kpop smut

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whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

Porcelain

A Yangyang fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: After a falling out with your friends, you wander into a forest and find a mysterious mansion with an even more mysterious inhabitant, Yangyang.

Pairing: rich boy!Yangyang x female reader

Genre: romance, fluff, fantasy, mystery, suspense, drama

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Violence

(A/N): hey y’all! So the timing for posting this story worked out so well because it’s Yangyang’s birthday (in America!) :D Anyway, this is our second story for our Halloween Series for NCT 2020 and we hope you enjoy! I’m so excited to be writing for one of my biases. I know my writing needs a lot of work but I hope you guys enjoy it. Yangyang is precious. Stan Yangyang, y’all. Shoutout to Krys for inspiring me everyday and for proofreading my story! You are my rock!

_______

It was October 10, the day in which your small town came together for a big bonfire to celebrate the fall season. Your town of Celestial was known for celebrating something every week but the atmosphere was always special at this time of the year. Classes ended for the week and your friends were excited to go to a party in the woods.

Unfortunately for you, you were abandoned off the side of the road after having a falling out with your friends Dowoon and Sana for blowing off the mayor’s son’s party. You’d recently been rebuffed by him in the senior hallway. Your rejection was followed by your classmates mocking you all day long. You wouldn’t be caught dead at Peter’s party. And you were especially in no mood to put up with your friends’ preference for a good party over their recently spurned friend’s feelings.

You said screw them but they would probably end up screwing each other anyway. They were platonic but their drunken hookups always said otherwise. So sometimes you felt like a third wheel. Which was also why you didn’t want to go. You wanted a new experience this spooky season. And you were probably getting one now that you were 2 miles outside of town. Damn your pride. Dowoon and Sana insisted you get back in the car but the driver, the school quarterback, quickly drove them off. What a sense of community, you thought.

It was freezing in Celestial at this time of year so you were layered up, saving your pair of ruby red mittens for last. The overcast sky appeared to promise snowfall. If not for tonight, the snow would surely fall tomorrow

You knew this area well enough to walk back into town but as you took a few steps forward, you noticed smoke in the distance. Like it was coming from a chimney.

That was odd, you thought. Who lived on this side of town?

As you walked in the direction of the smoke, you moved past the dense evergreen trees and before you knew it, you stumbled upon a mansion out of an old-time movie. Dating back to at most the 1800s. The mansion was a Renaissance chateau, big and domineering. Something that could’ve made Celestial a tourist destination like Asheville had with the Biltmore Estate.

How was it possible that anyone could live here, you thought. Surely, this would be the talk of the town if anyone knew. And if it was off-limits, it would’ve certainly kept the town on their toes.

The mansion was quiet and there was no trace of movement or inhabitants. Then again, it was large so you could be incorrect. The chateau’s main entrance was big and made of the most pristine marble. The only thing missing was a moat. There were several fountains in the entrance. The water froze due to the colder weather. You didn’t understand how you could keep moving forward. You didn’t know this place. You didn’t know who could be inside. But you found yourself taking steps up to the massive double doors. Your hand moved to the doorknob and turned it over. The door creaked open and without a second thought, you walked in.

The door slammed shut behind you but you weren’t afraid. In fact, you were mesmerized by the atmosphere of the mansion. From the outside the mansion looked preserved like a fine piece of art in a high-surveillance museum: cold and unwelcoming and way out of your price range. But on the inside, it felt...warm and bright. It felt like home. It smelled of cinnamon and freshly baked bread.

You walked through the entryway and found everything illuminated by candle light. There was no indication of light from the outside. It was almost as if the real goings-on were hidden from the outside world.

There were shoes at the entrance. You took your boots off to not track dirt into the residence. Winter coats were hung up on the coat rack. You hang your coat up as well. There was a half-full cup of tea that was beside the sofa of the sitting room. You admired the interior: the expansive first floor library, the dining room table that sat seven, the pristine kitchen area, the music room...

As you stood in the doorway of the music room, you heard the sounds of a violin playing a somber but sweet melody. Rather than grow alarmed, you longed to find the source, thinking that whatever it was could only bring you joy.

The music room was massive, with a skylight in the shape of a spade on the ceiling. The sunset colors of the sky never looked more stunning than they did at that moment. A grand piano lay at the center. You longed to touch it but something inside you warned you against it. Instruments of all kinds were splayed across the area. But there was no violin in sight.

When you turned around to continue exploring the mansion, that was when you found the source of the music.

A boy about your age stood before you with his violin rested against his collarbone. He continued to play as he smiled knowingly at you. He had straight brown hair that nearly fell into his warm brown eyes. He donned a black tuxedo that was more regal than modern. His eyes crinkled as he watched you, delighted to meet such a beautiful stranger.

You nearly jumped at his presence. “Who…are you?”

Quirking an eyebrow, he replied as he continued playing, “I should be asking you that. You’ve broken into our home.”

“Our?” You asked.

He shook his head. “What brings you here, miss?”

You knew you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to but you couldn’t help it. This place called out to you and you’d hoped you could stay longer. But it looked like your time was up. You lamely said, “I…need to borrow your phone.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to. What’s this ‘phone’ you speak of?” His refined voice was not like that of the locals. He sounded well-traveled, worldly. But definitely from a long time ago.

The more you spoke to this young man, the more you realized that he didn’t sound like he lived in the same century as you.

You frowned. “You don’t know what a phone is? Come on, you’re kidding, aren’t you?”

He halted from playing and gave you a look. “Tell me. What is a phone?”

“…It’s a device that lets you speak to someone who isn’t with you…” You attempted an explanation that was as eloquent as possible, thinking that if you spoke in a more refined tone, he would get what you were saying. Where on earth could this boy have been from to not know what a phone is? He really sounded like someone from a century past.

“Like a medium?” He asked as he set his violin down in its case. He put his hands in his pockets as he walked slowly back to you. Your breathing stalled as his face was mere inches from yours. He was indeed very handsome. His high cheekbones. His glorious tan skin. A pearly white set of teeth. His legs were dangerously long as he faced you.

Your face warmed up and you hoped he couldn’t tell. You backed away as you locked your eyes on the piano instead. “No…It’s like if I were two miles away from here and you needed to get a hold of me, you could use a phone to contact me on another phone. It’s an electronic device.”

He nodded. “Oh, I’ve heard of those…My family and I could not acquire them, unfortunately.” His expression became sad, longing.

Hearing his defeated voice, you turned to him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Why is that?”

He looked at you, defeated. “I’d rather not say, miss…”

“Y/n,” you answered.

“Y/n,” he replied, liking the sound of your name.

“It’s okay,” you replied, “I should probably go…I’ve overstayed my welcome, sir….Your name?”

“Yangyang,” he answered, anticipating the sound of his name off of your lips.

“Yangyang…Would it be possible to get a ride back into town? I can pay you for your trouble.”

He smiled apologetically. “My sincerest apologies but I’ve no means to take you.”

“Oh…” It was all you could say.

You felt a small pang of worry at the pit of your stomach, especially now that night had fallen. Perhaps, you could make your way back into town if Yangyang offered you a torch. He would have that much, at the very least.

“It’s dangerous to go out on your own at this time of night, y/n…” He said, quietly. It was a little eerie that he read your mind at that moment.

“I know. I’m such a fool…I couldn’t borrow my father’s phone for the night so I have no way of calling anyone…I…just couldn’t help myself when I walked in here…” You said as you looked around the music room. “It was like…”

“Something pulled you in,” he finished.

“Yes, exactly.”

Yangyang began, “I know it’s out of turn for me to say this but I can offer you a room to stay in for the night…Then, you can make your way back into town in the morning.”

You were beyond lucky your parents weren’t home for the weekend. Otherwise, they’d be worried sick. But even so…How could you say yes to a total stranger? Even if you were only a few miles out of town, you didn’t know Yangyang. You didn’t know what his intentions could be.

Another part of you told you to trust him. Because what would you do in the woods at night? You couldn’t account for the wolves or the other creatures of the night. You didn’t know who else could linger in the woods.

As far as you could tell, Yangyang was an odd but attractive guy. And if he was offering a separate space for you to sleep in, then you should take it.

_______

There was a snowstorm in a matter of minutes when Yangyang escorted you upstairs. How odd for it to be snowing in early October, you thought. You rejoiced over how your jerk of a crush's party was a bust. You wondered if Sana and Dowoon made it home safely. You wondered if they worried about you now. After they left you in the middle of the road.

Maybe you should stop being friends with them. You felt like you were more disappointed in them with each passing week. You wondered when they would do something for you. It always seemed to fall on you to pick them up from parties and cover for them when their parents called your house when they went to a 21+ club. You just wanted a simple night in to watch a movie and share ghost stories. Maybe they didn’t want to do those things anymore.

You wouldn’t say they grew up but maybe...the three of you just grew apart.

You pushed thoughts of them to the back of your mind as Yangyang stood in front of an ornate door, decorated with flower engravings, painted in several colors. The initials at the bottom were “W.T.”.

Yangyang pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door for you. He handed the set of golden keys to you. “These are yours for the duration of your stay. You can trust no one will come in...Unless it be your wish, y/n.”

He dropped the keys into your hands. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Yangyang smiled. “You are welcome. Supper will be ready in an hour. I’ll come for you when it is time.”

You couldn’t look at him for too long without your eyes burning. He was too radiant. Too beautiful. Almost otherworldly. You looked down at your socks as you entered the room. You shut it gently behind you.

You locked the door from the inside, trusting that Yangyang gave you the only set. You took a sigh of relief as you took in the bedroom.

This had to be a mistake, you thought.

This had to be the master room. It felt like you were in a 19th century penthouse suite, if such a thing had existed. Your room for the night started with a fireplace and a sitting area. When you walked past it, you entered the study area that was bigger than the first floor of your house. You had a massive walk-in closet filled with gowns and shoes of every color. You even had a room full of fine jewelry on display, including tiaras studded with diamonds. Your mouth remained open as you walked through the “bedroom”.

You shouldn’t have access to any of these things. For they must have belonged to someone. Why would Yangyang let you sleep in here?

Lastly, as your heart couldn’t take anymore, the bedroom was plush and luxurious. The carpet embraced the soles of your feet. After resisting the urge to touch everything else in the bedroom, you allowed yourself to sit on the king-sized bed.

Sleeping in this bed would’ve compensated for all of the all-nighters you’ve pulled in your life. It was a shame you wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, though.

You were many things. Naive, innocent, studious, and quite impulsive at times. But you weren’t about to fall asleep in a stranger’s home.

Half an hour passed as you washed up and warmed up by the fireplace.

Yangyang knocked at your door. You thought it odd that he would be escorting you down himself. Shouldn’t he have servants, living in a place like this?

You opened the door and Yangyang stared at you in shock.

“What?” You frowned. You looked exactly the same as you did when you first met him, he realized.

“Were none of the gowns to your liking?” Yangyang asked, genuinely confused.

You did a double take. “What? Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly...Those aren’t mine. I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. No more than I already have.”

Yangyang was stunned at your decision. He thought you would have tried on all of the dresses in the past half hour and don the diamond tiara with golden accents...But no...The suite he’d given you was relatively untouched. You were certainly a woman of your word. You would’ve looked stunning in the red sleeveless dress, he thought. He snapped out of it and said, “No matter. You had the option...That’s why I gave you this room. Everything within these mansion walls is at your disposal.”

You laughed. “You’ve done more than enough for me so don’t worry. Now...can we go eat? I really can’t turn down a meal.” You hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Yangyang laughed at your candor. “Of course.”

As you walked down the grand wooden staircase, you could hear more people in the house. You heard chairs being pulled, laughter, clinking of glasses, and the piano being played.

You turned to Yangyang. “Who...”

Yangyang replied, “My brothers will be joining us for supper.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised. When you entered, you were shocked enough that Yangyang was there. Who knew more people resided here? Up until now, it was so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop.

That, and Yangyang’s violin. Which you longed to hear again.

You felt quite underdressed upon meeting Yangyang’s brothers in the dining room, which boasted a lot of paintings and miniature statues to the men who stood before you. There was another grand piano in the dining area, where one of Yangyang’s brothers sat and played a lively piece. Three of the brothers were laughing about an anecdote that the tallest of the group told. The final two men sat as...to your surprise, servants finished setting the dining table, lighting the flames of the candles in the center. The servants’ dresses had turned up collars with plain neckties. Yangyang’s brothers all donned suits of dark reds, blues, and grays. They looked like members of a royal family.

At the sight of you, the music stopped and all of the men started moving towards you and Yangyang.

“Yangyang, an introduction is in order,” the pianist asked as he got up from his seat.

“Brothers, this is y/n. She is staying with us before she returns to town in the morning,” Yangyang said, the humor in his voice when he spoke with you vanished. He moved closer to you, you noticed.

The pianist asked for your hand and kissed it. “Enchanted to meet you, y/n. I am Wei Kun, the oldest of the Wei children.”

You coughed, a little shocked at how forward Kun was. It was a culture shock to you. Most boys thought they were too damn special to ever make eye contact with you.

You shook hands with the other brothers. They were all very happy to see you. But you couldn’t quite place what kind of joy it was so you remained on your toes.

“Please, sit,” Winwin said as he led you to the seat right next to the head of the table. Kun sat down at the head of the table and smiled at you. The rest of the brothers joined you.

The servants began to bring out the drinks and the first course. Ten was about to sit next to you when Yangyang immediately claimed the seat.

“Calm down, brother,” Ten said, “It won’t do you harm to let her sit beside someone other than you.”

Yangyang remained in his seat. “She is my guest.”

Ten chuckled as he sat across from you. “So y/n, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

A servant poured a glass of water for you. “Thank you,” you replied and tried to meet her eyes.

The servant quickly turned away and headed to the kitchen, you assumed. That was odd.

“Well,” you continued, “My friends and I were going to a party in the woods. We got into a fight and I got out of the car that was on the road not too far from here…”

“A car?” Xiaojun frowned, his bold eyebrows furrowed. He took a bite of his salad.

So these men didn’t know phones or cars... “Oh...Well, they’re these machines that can transport people from place to place…”

“Like a carriage?” Yangyang offered.

“Ah.” The rest of the boys said in realization.

You nodded as you drank your water, “Yes, but it runs on gasoline.”

The boys were amazed at your tales about modern technology. You went into as much detail as you could about phones and cars. The boys were an odd bunch. It was almost as if they never left this house.

Although it seemed like that, they told you tales of their travels to Asia, South America, and Europe. They told you about their cultural expeditions and their visits to the natural wonders of the world. Ten, the painter of the family, motioned to the paintings you’d seen earlier. They were paintings of places like Machu Picchu, the Colosseum, and the Parthenon. They were paintings of the places they visited. They were so vivid and lifelike. Ten was an incredible painter. Talent ran in the family, that was a sure thing. You were as much in awe of their tales. You were thankful the spotlight wasn’t on you like you’d expected, being the sole stranger of this household.

You enjoyed the salad, the tomato soup, the roasted duck, and the dessert, which happened to be your favorite: strawberry shortcake.

“Would you care for another slice?” Yangyang asked in a whisper as the other boys talked. He noticed your face come alive at the first bite of the cake.

You nearly choked on the last bite of your slice. You must have looked gluttonous to him. You should’ve eaten slower, you thought. You must have not been very ladylike at that moment. You shook your head. “That’s alright. Thank you. Everything was delicious.”

Yangyang looked at you once again in confusion. You clearly wanted another slice so why weren’t you asking for it, he asked himself. “Very well…” He murmured.

Lucas got up from the table. “Well, Yangyang, the boys and I will retire early...Although we wish you would let us be in y/n’s company…”

Yangyang quickly replied, “Good evening, brothers.”

They all pouted but wished you a good evening.

You laughed. “Your brothers are a lot of fun.”

Yangyang scoffed. “That’s one word for them. The minute they caught wind that I had a visitor, they insisted on joining us for dinner. I am so sorry, y/n. You must have been overwhelmed.”

You shook your head. “It’s nice to know that it isn’t just you in this house.”

Yangyang was stunned at your words. You were so...kind. Thinking of others, always. Thinking of him, basically a total stranger. You were as kind as you were trusting. It made his heart ache.

He pulled your seat back for you. He offered his arm. “Are you tired?”

Exhausted, actually. But once again, you were in a stranger’s house. And now that you knew he wasn’t alone, you wanted to be more on guard.

“Nope...I am wide awake.” You smiled as you took his arm. He was warm to the touch. The electricity ran between both of you.

Yangyang laughed. “What would you like to do, y/n?”

“I’d like to hear you play,” you said.

He was shocked at your honesty. He liked when you expressed yourself honestly most of all.

It was the truth, you thought. Frankly, it was part of your ruse to stay up as late as possible but if Yangyang could keep you entertained, it would certainly help a lot.

And truly, you could listen to his violin for hours.

_______

Back in the music room, you sat on the couch, serving as Yangyang’s audience. He loosened his tie and took off his jacket, setting it aside on a chair. He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

He warmed up his hands and fingers for a few minutes before he tuned the strings of his violin. His fingers were so elegant and slender. The veins of his arms protruded as he flexed his hands. He looked so focused and determined and just unbelievably beautiful. The violin was an extension of his heavenly hands. This was the most attractive he’d ever been. You bit your lip.

You told yourself to calm down, for he was a complete stranger.

Sure, up until this point, he gave you the bedroom of your dreams. A dinner that nearly brought you to tears from the flavor and comfort it gave you. And he was playing his beloved instrument for you...But you couldn’t get attached so quickly.

He couldn’t meet your gaze because the look in your eyes made him feel something he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge. Time had slipped quickly and his heart was deceiving him when it shouldn’t have.

“So...what will you be playing first?” You asked. How many songs could you get out of him before you both retired to your rooms?

Yangyang grinned excitedly. “An original I’ve been working on...I finished composing it today.”

“Really? Today?” You asked.

He gave you the knowing smile he had the moment you met him. “You helped me finish it.”

��Is that so? Well, I’m ready when you are.” You smiled, about to kick your legs up like an overly excited schoolgirl.

“The piece is called ‘Found’,” Yangyang said as he positioned his bow against the strings and began.

Yangyang was truly an otherworldly being, especially under the skylight. The snowstorm was long gone and only the moonlight shone down on him. His skin illuminated like porcelain. His sculpted face tilted as he immersed himself in his song.

You realized the song was the piece he played when you entered the music room the first time. The song was somber at first. The notes were low and left you feeling down. Yangyang’s face was so melancholic at the start of the song. However, as he continued, the notes became lighter and freer, picking up towards the end, signifying hope. Your heart swayed with each three-note chord he played.

You weren’t entirely sure of the story behind the song but meeting you must not have been a low point of his day.

You clapped for Yangyang. “I loved it! It’s...too beautiful to be called merely beautiful...You are so talented.”

Yangyang’s cheeks were now a rosy pink. He bowed for you. “Thank you.”

You laughed giddily. You wished you could’ve recorded this performance, you longed to keep it with you for the rest of your life.

Yangyang continued playing his original pieces. He was truly gifted in his craft. His compositions were nothing to sneeze at. He should be a world-famous musician with all of the work he’d done.

As he played, he would meet your eyes and give you a little smile. You could watch him for hours. He could play for you for hours.

You two were in this perfect little bubble, then. Reality didn’t take effect. It was divine.

Yangyang’s hands grew tired and after his last song, he sat beside you.

“You look sleepy, y/n,” he noted, “Did my performance actually bore you?” He mocked taking offense.

You fought a yawn but couldn’t let it escape you so turned away from him. You lifted a finger and told him to wait.

You let out a yawn, trying not to be noisy. Yes, you were tired. A long day at school, a falling out with your friends, and an evening at the Wei Mansion did its number on you.

You faced Yangyang again. “I’m wide awake.”

Yangyang lifted an eyebrow in skepticism. “Perhaps you would like something to drink?”

You nodded. “Something warm...Would hot cocoa be possible?”

“Absolutely. It’s a staple at this household this time of year,” he said.

He offered his hand to you and you took it. Both of you were taken aback by how immediate you were to hold hands but neither of you let go as Yangyang led you into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, he tended to you. The servants were nowhere in sight. The mansion felt like it had when you first came in: empty.

It felt like you two were the only people in this house, a world in itself.

He poured you a cup of cocoa he made and you were in love. The cocoa tasted amazing. You drank it slowly, savoring every sip.

You shivered a little from the cold that creeped into the mansion. Yangyang left for a moment and returned with a blanket. He wrapped it around you.

It was plush and made of the softest material you could ever imagine. If you snuggled too much against it, you would fall asleep right then and there.

But your energy started picking up again...It must have been the cocoa.

“We can go into the library...I’ll start up the fire.” Yangyang offered as he drank his cup of cocoa.

It seemed Yangyang was eager to stay awake with you, you thought.

“Aren’t you tired?” You asked.

He looked up from his cup. “What?”

“You don’t have to force yourself to stay up with me. I’m the one who can’t sleep.”

Yangyang knew you were keeping yourself awake on purpose. He knew you didn’t completely trust him or this house. Slowly, however, you opened yourself up to him and he was quite fond of you. He wanted to be by your side for the night. He didn’t know why exactly but he just did.

He met your gaze. “I hope it is not too forward of me to say this...But I want to remain at your side.”

You looked down, flattered at his words. Then, you mustered your courage and met his unwavering stare. “Okay.”

The truth was, you felt safer with Yangyang. And you couldn’t lie to yourself: you liked him. He was kind, attentive, charming, and a wonderful musician. The moment you met him made you forget all of your troubles...if only for a moment.

You two walked into the dome-shaped library. It was bigger than any commercial bookstore. You wondered how old the family’s collection was.

Yangyang started the fire at the fireplace by the reading couches. He motioned for you to take a seat.

You sat down and nearly sank into the couch. It was so comfortable. You were living in the lap of luxury.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Yangyang asked.

You laughed. “Yeah...why?”

“Your eyes rolled to the back of your head,” he said, smiling confusedly.

You laughed again. “It’s because this couch is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat on.”

Yangyang smiled and shook his head. “The simplest things please you.”

“Nothing about this house is simple,” you said.

He shook his head, smiling at you and picked up a book off of the shelf. He scanned the title and the summary. “What do you like to read, y/n?”

You answered, “Horror.”

Yangyang’s eyes widened. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yes. I like the suspense and the kinds of creatures the writers come up with.”

Yangyang was wrong to assume you were a romance kind of girl. He’d hoped to woo you with some Shakespeare. He took it in stride and put the book he had back on the shelf. He took a rolling step ladder and positioned it farther away from you. He got up on the steps and picked up another book off the shelf.

“It’s called ‘The Mysterious Mansion’,” he said, biting back a laugh.

“How fitting,” you said, laughing.

You and Yangyang shared a couch as you took turns reading to each other. The story was dark and twisted but got your heart racing.

Well, maybe Yangyang’s being so close to you may have had something to do with it.

The hours pass and you finish off the last page. Yangyang leaned against the other end of the couch and simply watched you. He loved the sound of your voice and the way it cracked.

He gave you a glass of water to relax your voice. He loved how your eyes scanned word for word. The crease between your eyes as you interpreted the author’s words. But you kept on reading aloud. He’d read “The Mysterious Mansion’ several times but this time was his favorite reread.

You could hear Yangyang talk forever when you heard him read the passages. His voice was soothing and full of wonder. The grin on his face right before he read a twist to the story. The crinkle of his nose when he laughed at your reactions. He’d become a friend.

A friend you wanted to kiss.

This was the most fun you’d ever had. This cold October night with this enchanting young man. You kinda wished it would never end but you were still resolved to...Stay...awake…

Your eyes grew heavy and you curled yourself against the couch. You pulled the blanket tighter around you.

Yangyang realized you were drifting. He quickly moved over to you and shook you awake.

You two had stayed up all night and it was nearing daybreak. And he had to move fast.

“Y/n!” He yelled to wake you up.

You grumbled. “What?”

“Please wake up. You need to leave right now,” Yangyang demanded.

You rubbed your eyes and snapped out of it. How the hell did you almost fall asleep, you fool, you thought to yourself. The alarm in Yangyang’s voice also was a cause for concern. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

He shook his head rampantly. “There’s no time to explain. Do you have everything?”

You nodded. “I have to get my coat and boots at the entrance.”

Yangyang grabbed your hand and you both ran towards the entrance. You put your coat and boots on. Yangyang did the same and he nearly dragged you out the door. You quickly moved down the staircase and set foot on the dewy grass. Yangyang kept his foot on the last step of the staircase.

The sky overhead was mostly black but shades of oranges, pinks, and red were breathing through. Dawn was imminent.

That was when you realized you had no mittens. You’d left them in the bedroom.

Yangyang noticed your bare hands. He pulled off his royal blue mittens and slipped them onto your hands.

“You don’t have to-“ You started.

“I want you to have them. A fair trade. Yours for mine?” He smiled.

He squeezed your hands before he let them go.

“Thank you...for tonight, Yangyang,” you said. Even though it was through the weather and the night that you had no other choice, you had a magical night with a boy who was so wonderful, he must’ve been out of a classic novel. He’d treated you like a friend and listened to you: about what you wanted to do and what you liked. You’d wished you could’ve gotten to know him more but you appreciated that he listened to you attentively.

You were sad the night had ended but you’d succeeded in staying up nearly the whole night at least. You were meant to leave now. You’d overstayed your welcome and you needed to get home. That was the most important thing.

Yangyang moved closer to you and moved some hair away from your face. He touched your cheek with the back of his hand. Once again, you both did something with no thought.

You got up on the staircase and kissed him. He pulled you in to deepen the kiss. He picked you up off the ground as he continuously took your breath away.

But as quickly as this piece of utter bliss started, it quickly ended.

He let you go and set you down on the grass. “Goodbye, y/n.”

“Goodbye, Yangyang.” As you walked into the forest, you turned back once more and watched as Yangyang stood there, his face unreadable.

You waved at him and his expression softened as he waved back.

You laughed as you turned back now and kept on moving. The path to the main road took a little longer than expected because it was still dark. However, the sun rose before you knew it and you were able to see the main road again.

And you were shocked to find several people on the main road. Cop cars were parked off the side of the road. A news reporter for Channel 23 News could be heard saying.

“It is Day 8 into the search for y/n y/l/n. She was last seen on this road, Road 116 by her friends and has not returned home. If you have seen y/n or have any information that can help our police force find her, please call the number on the screen: 1-800-RES-CUES. Again, that’s 1-800-RES-CUES.”

Dowoon and Sana were being interviewed by another news station.

Dowoon was on the brink of tears, his eyes stained red. “This is all our fault.”

Choking on her tear, Sana continued, “We shouldn’t have left her on the road...We thought she went home...We were so stupid…”

What the hell was going on?

You walked into the road and several people turn to you in shock. They gasped and screamed your name.

Your parents broke out of the crowd of people that has accumulated. “Y/n!” They both yell.

They run up to you and wrap their arms around you, weeping hysterically.

Your mom yelled, “Y/n, where have you been? My baby!”

Your dad held your face in his hands, “What happened to you? Are you alright?”

You were shocked at their reaction. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you guys were in New York until tomorrow.”

Your parents, not letting you go, gave each other a meaningful look.

Your mom’s eyebrows furrowed. “Tomorrow? Y/n, we came back a week ago.”

You laughed in disbelief. “No, you guys left Friday morning, yesterday morning.”

Your dad shook his head. “Y/n, you’ve been missing for a week now.”

You laughed again. “No...You guys are messing with me.”

But then you looked around at all of the worried looks on the people’s faces. The police officers came right over. You even saw Dowoon and Sana sobbing not too far from Sana’s car.

“You guys...I stayed in a mansion not too far from here for the night because of the snow…”

“What mansion? What snow?” Your parents asked in unison.

You darted your eyes to everyone else and whispered to them. “Come with me.”

“Y/n, we need to get you home…” Your mom pleaded.

You shook your head. “I need to show you where I was and that I wasn’t in danger.”

“Y/n, we should tell the police-” Your father offered.

“No!” You snapped. “Please trust me. He didn’t do anything to me. He’s my friend.”

At the mention of “he”, your parents were up in arms and motioned for the police to come over.

“We will go with you, y/n…” Your mom said.

She meant that they’ll go with you if you have a police escort.

You shook your head and led the party to the mansion. You couldn’t believe this. Missing for seven days? That was impossible. You’d only been gone for the night. How could anyone have known you’d been gone? Your parents were away.

Once you got out of the forest to the Wei mansion, you saw that there was no mansion. Only an abandoned cabin.

What?

“Is this where you were detained, y/n?” Police Officer A asked.

“I was not detained. This isn’t the mansion I-”

“A mansion?” Everyone looked at you skeptically.

You entered the cabin, knowing that everything you believed in was slipping through your fingers. Tears quickly ran down your cheeks. The cabin was shabby, the furniture inside covered in dust. It had been unlived in for quite some time.

“Y/n!” Your parents yelled.

The police rushed in after you and Police Officer B held you back. “Let me go!” You demanded.

“It’s dangerous.”

The police officers searched the entire cabin three times over and came up with nothing. “There is no trace of anyone having been here for years,” Police Officer A said.

Well, of course not, this wasn’t the mansion that you stayed at.

Clearly, the more time passed, the more concerned everyone looked. It was possible you heard the words “rehab” and “therapy” and “mental break” thrown around.

You had to calm down. You knew you weren’t crazy. You knew it because you wore Yangyang’s gloves.

Yangyang.

Where is he? Where were his brothers? Where was the Wei mansion?

Police Officer B released you and you browsed the area. Your parents trailed behind you. You entered one of the bedrooms, encased in dust. You sneezed and found a chest with a lock on it. The chest was engraved with the letter “W” at the center.

You recognized the engraving. It was the same handwriting from the bedroom door in the Wei Mansion. Your bedroom door...The keys.

You remembered you still had them in your pocket. It was a long shot but you pulled them out. You placed the key inside of the lock and opened the chest.

You found seven porcelain dolls. The dolls were more sophisticated than any doll sold at the local stores. They were almost lifelike. The way their eyes and lips were drawn. Each doll bared a striking resemblance to the Wei brothers. You could see them all: Kun, Ten, Winwin, Lucas, Xiaojun, Hendery, and…

Yangyang.

The last doll was definitely Yangyang. The doll held a toy violin and wore…

Your ruby red mittens.

Fin.

_______

Epilogue.

Yangyang sat in the music room alone, holding on tightly to your red mittens.

Hendery charged into the room. His brothers trailed behind. “You fool! Why did you let her go?”

Yangyang shrugged. “I’ve had it.”

“What are you talking about?” Xiaojun demanded. “You were smitten with her. She was clearly enamored with you.”

Kun laughed. “It’s because he’s in love with her.”

All of the boys looked at their oldest brother, confused. Yangyang avoided their stares.

“You changed your mind,” Kun murmured.

Yangyang sighed, “She was not like-”

Winwin rolled his eyes. “Please do not give us the story of ‘she was not like other girls’. She seduced you and you let her go. You fell for her game. She outsmarted you.”

Yangyang snapped. “Do not test me, brother.”

Ten interjected. “Okay, okay, everyone needs to calm down...We are just curious...Why? She could have stayed here with us forever...With you forever.”

Yangyang didn’t want to speak to them. Every moment that passed, he missed you more. “She did not wear the jewels or the dresses...She left everything untouched. She did not come to us because she sought material possessions. She wanted a friend…”

Lucas laughed. “How pathetic.”

Yangyang groaned. “You lot would not understand…”

“Do not act like you are better than us, little brother,” Kun began condescendingly.

“I am not-”

“You think you’re better than us because you let a prisoner go this time, do you not? Well, let me bring you back to reality. Our spirits are confined into those tacky porcelain dolls...So what do we do to ease ourselves? We bring people into this realm to reside with us. Materialistic, selfish, and vain people. Y/n is no different from the rest of them.”

“Shut up,” Yangyang muttered.

The rest of the boys were stunned to silence but Kun heard him clearly. “Repeat that, Yangyang. You know the consequences.”

Yangyang got up and shoved your mittens in his pockets. “Shut up, Kun.”

Kun smiled and laughed. The other boys faked laughter so as not to upset Kun even more. His smile quickly faded as he punched Yangyang to the ground.

Kun gave Yangyang a harsh beating and the rest of the brothers watched. No one dared to step in and upset Kun even further. Yangyang couldn’t blame his brothers. Besides, he wanted this. He wanted to feel a pain other than the pain of missing you.

He may have been damned for the rest of eternity but he was thankful to have met you. You proved to him that not everyone could be consumed by the deadly sins, as he and his brothers had. You were an angel that gave you a moment of compassion, of affection. And for that he would always be thankful.

_______

Come back tomorrow the third installment in our Halloween Series! :)

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years ago

Note

sdra2 boys reactions to a first kiss from their s/o-

Here you go! These turned out a bit longer than expected haha (plus I almost forgot Hajime aaaaaa)

.........

Teruya

The former merchant was grieving over his friends again, but as much as he tried hiding it--he knew he couldn’t keep it bottled up around you. So he just let himself curl into your arms, clutching the goggles of a certain pilot.

He felt childish for crying like this, though you didn’t judge him, nor the tears that soaked your shirt. Instead you held him close, running a hand through his hair.

Teruya found that talking about the good memories--as good as any memories of being trapped in the academy could be--with the pilot helped ease his troubled mind. Plus you were curious about his friendship with him.

“He seemed like a comedic guy,” you smiled softly. “A guy with a good heart.”

“Yeah, th-that was Haru alright..” He sniffled, sighing as he felt himself calming down. “Okay..I think I’m alright now. Th-Thank you for listening.”

"Of course, but hmm..I know what’ll cheer you up, Ruya.”

As he raised his head to look at you, what he didn’t expect was to feel you lips against his. But for a first kiss...it was so soft and sweet, just like you’ve always been to him.

You could see a blush on his face as you broke the kiss. He tried to speak, but could only babble random nonsense, to which you just chuckled. “You feel a little better?”

“Y-Yeah..I’m f-feelin’ tons better...”

.........

Yuki

“Are you..serious?” Yuki gawked, expecting you to laugh at his confession. “Y-You really like me that way, too?”

“Of course! And I’ll say it again if I need to.” Grinning, you took his hands and swung them side-to-side a bit. “I truly do like you, Yuki Maeda. So what if you’re “average”? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Despite how much he wanted to believe your words, he was convinced that he wasn’t anyone special. His talent didn’t make him famous or rich or smart--who would wanna be with someone who was lacking in all three departments?

You could see his eyes starting to cloud over with doubt, but you weren’t gonna have any of that. Fortunately you had an idea that was either smart...or stupid.

You didn’t care and just decided to kiss him right on the lips. He squeaked in surprise, immediately stiffening up, though it was just a peck and you quickly backed off.

Your face burned with embarrassment, but it got your message across..or so you hoped. “Now do you believe me?”

“I-I....I do..” Yuki stammered, his gaze travelling to your entwined hands. Though he shyly glanced back up at you. “C-Could you..uh..maybe do that again?”

........

Nikei

As you typed away on the computer, you could feel a lingering presence over your shoulder. But you didn’t mind it, knowing there was only one person who was allowed to barge into your office.

“Hey Nik-Nak.”

“Y-You’re seriously giving me a nickname now?” The journalist stammered, though he just sighed and looked at your computer screen. “Anyways..how’s the editing going?”

“So far so good. your dear Ultimate Editor is hard at work.” You kept tapping the keys. “But I noticed a lot more run-on sentences in this one. Looks like somebody’s had a little too much coffee today.”

“Oh please,” he huffed. “We both have very different definitions of “too much coffee”. And I think I know who stole the rest..”

“Sue me.” You joked, reaching up to pat his cheek, before you brought his head down slightly to kiss his other one. “Make some more if your heart desires.”

“..........”

“...Nikei?”

“...s-sure...imma go..uh....yeah. Bye.”

By the time you turned away from the computer, Nikei was already rushing out the door, clutching his hat to hide his face from view. But even in the dark you could tell he was blushing like mad.

How adorable.

........

Shinji

“COME ON, YUKI!! YOU GOTTA HAVE MORE FIYAAAAH THAN THAT!!!”

“He seems tired, Shinji. Cut him some slack.” You chuckled as you watched the two men train together. Poor Yuki was practically wheezing after the run, while Shinji just huffed and kept jogging around the park.

But eventually he made his way over to you and stopped short. “You should join us! Get your blood pumping!!”

“Do I have to?”

“Why not?” He grinned.

You really didn’t wanna run in hot weather like this, and the two seemed like they needed a break.

So you came up with an idea--a sure-fire way to get him to listen to you. “Hey, Shin? I..gotta tell you something important.” You motioned for him to lean in closer, and he did so in worry, wondering what you had to say.

Though all he got was peck on the lips. It was the first kiss you’ve given him since you two starting going out, so it was quick but sweet. When you moved back you could see him staring at you, face growing beet-red.

“Now will you take a break...please?” You held his hands.

For a while he seemed speechless--as though his brain short-circuited--before he finally found his voice. “W-W-Well jeez..why d-didn’t ya say so before?”

......

Yuri

“Oh, [y/n]~! I’ve figured out the perfect way to commemorate our first kiss!”

“You have? And what would that be?” You turned around to face the spaceman, noticing he had a box of Pocky. “O-Oh...the Pocky game?”

“What else could it be?” He laughed as he held out a stick between you two. “Since we’re both already familiar with it, why not get started right away~”

Seeing that there was no way out of this, you sighed and decided to agree to the game. You bit down one end of the stick while Yuri bit the other.

Then you started munching away. Though at the last second, right before your noses could touch, you suddenly moved back, letting him have victory.

“Awh..there’s no need to be shy, my dearest.” He pouted, clearly disappointed. “I understand if you’re not ready yet but-”

However he was cut short when you pulled him by the tie, bringing his lips to yours. His eyes widened to the size of UFOS, though before he could properly react you broke the kiss, smiling as you munched the remaining Pocky you stole from him.

“I win~”

.......

Shobai

“You’re kidding right?”

“It’s like I said--nothing in life comes for free, sweetheart. If ya don’t already know that then..why are we even going out?"

“...we’ve been dating for-”

“You want a kiss? Better pay up.” As ridiculous as it seemed, Shobai looked dead serious about this “deal” you wanted to make with him.

You didn’t think you’d have to actually pay to get a first kiss. But then again..this man made a living making bizarre deals, so you shouldn’t have been too surprised.

“Alright, if that’s what it takes.” You begrudgingly took out your wallet and opened it. “What do you want for-?”

However, you fell silent when you heard a snicker, and you looked to see his smug grin. But before you could question him, he suddenly leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips, stunning you, though you tried to seize the moment and kiss him back.

He tasted like smoke, of course. It wasn’t the most pleasant, though your heart still fluttered even after you two broke the kiss. Only then did he notice your dumbfounded expression, and chuckled.

“You know, you can be real gullible sometimes...but that makes you kinda cute.”

.......

Mikado

“Hey um..Mik? Can I ask you something?”

“Oh anything, my dear moon~ Well...erm...there are some things I cannot disclose if you’re curious about Void-”

“A-Ah, nothing like that. I’m just wondering if...I were to kiss you....which side would you prefer?” You gestured to both sides of your face, looking at the wizard with an inquiring expression.

He hummed in thought. “You know..I’ve never had my first kiss before, so I’m not so sure myself. How about I let you surprise me?” The red eye on his mask winked, before he closed his real eye and sat still.

With a sigh, you decided to entertain him, approaching him. But when he opened his eye, you stopped short and huffed. “Hey, what happened to me “surprising” you?”

“Sorry, I was getting..impatient. Carry on.” Once more he closed it, soon feeling you cup the cheek of his maskless side. And he tensed up upon feeling you kiss the corner of his mouth.

Redness dusted his entire face as he opened his eyes, seeing your smile.

“O-Oh...so that’s how it feels..”

.......

Hajime

“Hajime, it’ll only be for a second. I’ll be right back with medicine-”

“N-No..at least let me go with you..please..”

“You collapsed during training and you’ve been running a high fever ever since. You’re in no condition to walk right now.”

Despite your best efforts, Hajime continued to resist staying in bed. You didn’t think it would be this difficult to get him to stay put, but you knew why he was so upset.

He wasn’t scared of getting sick--he was scared of being abandoned while he was sick. It was a fear instilled into him thanks to his parents and doctors who just..gave up and left him to die, all alone.

That fear showed itself in full-force as he gripped your hand. “D-Don’t abandon me..” He sobbed weakly. “I can’t go through that again..I-I just can’t...”

Your heart ached when you heard those pleas. But as you wondered how you could calm him down...the first brilliant idea to pop in your mind was:

Kiss him.

And so you did, right on the lips, which you knew you’ll regret later. Though Hajime fell silent and looked at you with surprise. “...did you...?”

“Th-That’s..not how I meant our first kiss to go. But I promise you, Hajime..I’m not gonna abandon you.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Not now, not ever, okay? I will always come back for you.”

His cheeks were more flushed, but he nodded meekly and relaxed back on the bed as you quickly left to retrieve the medicine.

And you kept your promise.

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kaeyastopmakingicepuns · 4 years ago

Text

Hey, I suck at writing fics that have a plot, so here's a little Diluc x Reader prompt, for anyone who wants it.

It occurred to me that Diluc's character had been MADE for a fake!married trope, and this scene popped into my head, but I didn't know how to go further with it, so if anyone wants to continue it, or use it for inspiration, please be my guest! :)

Diluc x Reader Fake!Married AU

"There you are," you said, paying no mind to your fancy clothes as you plopped yourself down on the dusty floor to lean against the cold, stone wall of the wine cellar. You had found Diluc right where you had expected to whenever the winery held these public festivals.

Diluc, seated on the ground next to you, merely grunted in response, taking a swig from the glass bottle he held before he nestled it back into its place in the crook of his arm.

"People are looking for you, ya know," you commented idly.

Another grunt. Honestly, having a conversation with this man could be like pulling teeth at times. It was a good thing that you had known him long enough to have learned that once you did get him talking, Mondstadt’s grumpiest bartender was actually a huge softie with a droll sense of humor that never failed to have you clutching your sides with laughter at least once or twice before he inevitably clammed up again.

“There’s a new bard in town.” You tried again. “Goes by the name ‘Dandelion.’ Wants to woo you with a special poem he wrote just for you.”

And yet another grunt punctuated by a long swig from the bottle. Time for drastic measures.

“Hey!” Diluc cried, uttering the first word you’d heard from him all evening as you snatched the bottle from his hand and helped yourself to its contents. You lowered the bottle as soon as the drink hit your tongue and spat the sip you had taken to the side.

“This is just stale grape juice,” you said in disgust. Honestly, you should have known, but the way he was nursing the drink had you convinced it was something stronger.

Diluc rolled his eyes as a plucked the bottle out of your grip. “Wait ‘til you find out what wine is,” he remarked drily.

You laughed. There was the Diluc whose company you had sought out. “Connor would cry in shame if he ever heard you say that.”

Diluc winced. “Please don’t tell him,” he pleaded.

“Of course not,” you agreed. “No way I could break his heart like that.” You grabbed the bottle again and took a proper drink this time. Now that you were expecting the sweeter beverage, it was actually quite good. Dawn winery didn’t get its reputation for nothing, its grape juice was just as good as its wine.

“How much longer do you suppose I have?” Diluc asked with a grimace as you passed the bottle back to him.

“What, before they come bursting down here trying to marry you off to their sons or daughters? Oh, not long at all,” you teased, accepting the bottle as he passed it back to you.

Diluc groaned. “Archons, I hate this. I wish they’d just leave me alone.”

You gesture in his direction, using the neck of the bottle to point at him, ignoring the way the juice sloshed around dangerously inside, threatening to spill on Diluc, who leaned away from your waving arms with a frown. “You know what you need to do?” you asked playfully. “You need to get fake married.”

Instead of laughing at your joke, Diluc’s brow scrunched up in puzzlement. “I need to get what?”

You sighed. Leave it to Diluc to not be aware of classic story clichés. “You know, disappear for a week or two, then return with some pretty thing on your arm and just tell everybody that you’ve eloped.”

Diluc scowled. “But I don’t want to get eloped.”

Archons, but he was lucky he was pretty. Diluc was generally an incredibly smart guy, but sometimes the way he failed to employ common sense baffled you. Like when he had used slime bait near his own vineyard and had to fight off a few curious slimes every few hours for a week. Still, being (secretly) big of heart and dumb of ass was what made Diluc, well, Diluc, and you wouldn't have him any other way.

“You wouldn’t actually get eloped,” you explained slowly. “You would just pretend to. You and whatever idiot you persuaded to be your fake spouse would know, but no one else would. That way, you get to be free from all the hassle of being a bachelor, and some lucky sucker gets to, I dunno, live in the manor rent free, or something. I’m not really sure what you would offer them to make it equitable, but I’m sure you can think of something, you’re rich, after all.”

It seemed Diluc still wasn’t getting the joke as, judging from the contemplative look on his face, he was actually giving the idea some serious thought. “That... might actually work,” he said thoughtfully.

Of course he would think this was a good plan, this was the same guy who thought it would be better if the city of Mondstadt was attacked from two fronts at the same time, rather than him revealing himself as the city’s so-called ‘Dark Knight Hero.’

“There is something you do have to be very careful of, though,” you said gravely, schooling your expression into something serious.

Diluc looked at you with concern. “What?”

“You have to make sure you pick someone whom you will absolutely not fall in love with, and will not fall in love with you under any circumstances,” You said. finally passing the grape juice back to him as you realized you were still holding it. Diluc took it and set it on the floor between you. “That’s how these things always go, someone falls in love with the other one and suddenly bam!” You punched your hand into your fist for emphasis, pleased to see that Diluc had been listening to you intently enough that he started a little. “The whole scheme goes up in smoke,” you said dramatically.

Diluc rolled his eyes. “Someone I won’t fall in love with?” he repeated. “How about you?”

“Ouch!” You put your hand to your chest in mock offense. That was clearly payback for making him jump.

Something flickered behind Diluc’s eyes and you hurried to make a teasing remark, knowing that if Diluc thought he had actually hurt your feelings his social awkwardness would instantly turn him back into Mr. Tall, Dark, Silent, and Brooding.

“And you call yourself a gentleman,” you said, lightly shoving his arm.

Diluc smirked back at you, visibly relaxing as soon as he was reassured you weren’t actually insulted. “I can be a gentleman,” he said, “when the situation calls for it.”

“I’ve never seen it,” you scoffed.

“Do you want to?” he asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You did, weirdly enough. At least a little. But rather than say that you snorted and said, “Archons, no.”

“I thought as much,” Diluc said confidently. He picked up the bottle again and finished it off, before giving you a sidelong glance. “You didn’t say ‘no.’“

“I didn’t,” you admitted. But that didn’t mean you were saying yes. After all, there had to be a reason this stuff only happened in stories, right? It’s not like this kind of game could work if attempted in real life.

“How would it even work?” you asked. “I mean, this kind of thing can only stay a secret for so long. It just takes one person learning the truth, and suddenly everyone knows. And it’s not like you can just explain away the fact that we have separate bedrooms to your staff, so that right there is where it all starts to fall apart.”

“No, it’s not.,” Diluc insisted. “It’s not at all uncommon for a husband and wife to have separate rooms. Royals do it all the time.”

You barked out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re royalty now? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you took that ‘uncrowned king of Mondstadt’ thing so seriously. And all this time I’ve been calling you by your first name. Is ‘your majesty’ too informal when we’re alone? Is it to be ‘His Esteemed Royal Highness, Diluc Ragnvindr of the Grape-Growing-Greats’ at all times?”

Diluc sighed. “Stop that, I just meant it’s not without precedent. My parents had separate rooms here when I was a kid, it’s not unthinkable.”

You blinked. You hadn’t known that. “They did?”

“Yeah,” he said. “They rarely made use of both of them, but they did. It’s expected of nobility, somewhat.”

Huh. There might be something to this plan, after all.

“And you still haven’t said ‘no,’“ Diluc said.

You hadn’t. Were you actually considering this?

“If you lived at the winery, you wouldn’t have to walk down here from Mondstadt every day,” he pointed out casually. Damn him for knowing your one weak point-- your hatred for your daily commute.

You were saved from having to answer by the torch on the wall going out with a pop, plunging the two of you into darkness. You squeaked and instinctively grabbed onto Diluc’s arm.

“Sorry,” Diluc said. “It must be a faulty torch. That’s the third time it’s gone out this week. I’ll get it.”

You felt Diluc wave his hand, and the torch flared back to life, illuminating the small corner of the cellar once again.

“Thanks,” you said, letting go of Diluc’s arm, wondering at the way Diluc’s face seemed to flare blight red in the glow of the firelight.

Suddenly, your eyes widened. “Archons, Diluc, you’re on fire again!” Was there a single pyro vision wielder in all of Teyvat that had mastered the art of not setting themselves on fire whenever they used their vision?

Diluc swore under his breath and began frantically patting his arm in an attempt to smother the flames. You helped, and, between the two of you, managed to get the small flame put out in a matter of seconds. Just another day at Dawn Winery.

Diluc stood, making sure there were no other embers lying around that could burn the whole manor down. “I should get back to the party,” he grumbled, offering you a hand to help you to your feet.

You followed him up the stairs, your earlier conversation seemingly forgotten. You were confidant that once the pressure from the party was gone the next morning, Diluc would never bring up the thought again, and you would both carry on with your lives.

But, still, neither of you had said ‘no.’

#genshin impact #gi diluc #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr

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drwcn · 4 years ago

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#9 【Carbon in the Steel】

cql au: everyone is an orphan except wwx; dark!twin jades

The Brothers Lan

There was once a little house, on the outskirts of a farming village beyond the tiered rice fields south of Meishan, far, far away from Cloud Recesses. Both Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji remembered that house. It was the house Father had built for Mother, and it was there that they were born.

It sat at the base of a hill where many tall bamboo trees grew, and in the garden, there had been gentians, indigo and violet, that bloomed beautifully every summer.

Lan Xichen would dream sometimes of that house and of the wonderful days in those early years.

Father, look!

Excellent form, A-Huan. Very good. Much improved. Now, remember to keep your balance on your front…

These days he could no longer recall Father’s face. His voice though, Lan Xichen still remembered as clear as a bell. On the other hand, his brother Wangji did not remember much of Father at all; instead, it was Mother’s smile that he could never forget.

Mother, can A-Zhan and I stay with you and Father tonight?

P’ease, Mo’her.

Lan Xichen remembered hugging his baby brother like a doll and strategically weakening his parents’ resolve using his baby pout and big puppy eyes. A-Zhan was always a trooper, so cooperative, so excellent at looking like a perfect toddler. Stoic though. So stoic for a baby. What a weird kid.

We had a bad dream.

Bad dweam.

Those were obviously lies. They never had bad dreams then; those would come much later, when their reality became worse than any nightmare they could ever imagine.

Jiujiu never needed to tell them that Mother and Father were dead, or what death was. They’d seen plenty of creatures die: the village’s cattle they butchered for the new year, the spinster's kittens that didn’t survive the winter, and the pheasants they caught and roasted for A-Zhan’s birthday.

Father had been a lifelong vegetarian, so eating meat didn’t agree with his stomach, but he never enforced such rules on his sons. In fact Father didn’t enforce any rules on his sons, except to show kindness where they could and to be true to their hearts.

Father probably didn’t anticipate just how difficult it was to be kind when the world had been so wholly unkind. Nor did he anticipate that he would die in such a violent and sudden manner without even so much as a goodbye.

I don’t remember what were the last words Father said to me. Wangji would confess to Xichen one day. I don’t even remember what Father looked like.

They were by the marsh catching lobsters with jiujiu when it happened. Mother suddenly appeared and spoke words that were foreign and frightening - Gusu Lan, cultivators, siege, pursuit, escape. Go. Now. She didn’t hug them or kiss them. Lan Xichen remembered Wangji reaching up towards her to be picked up and the confusion and heartbreak in his eyes when she pushed him back into jiujiu’s waiting arms.

A-niang...

At a certain point, jiujiu must’ve done something to them, because neither Wangji nor himself remember any part of their journey out of that village. When they woke up, they were somewhere high up and deep in the mountains. His little brother had looked at him and he had stared back and they both knew then that their parents were dead. Curled in their jiujiu’s arms, they cried themselves into another fitful sleep, and all the while, jiujiu didn’t wake up once, too exhausted by the endless days of travel.

To them, jiujiu - like all adults - was old, but it was not until they grew up that they realized that Zhao Zhuliu at the time of their parents’ demise had been no more than twenty years old, barely more than a boy himself.

Life with jiujiu was quiet, but after some time, they were able to find a sliver of happiness.

Zhao Zhuliu was a quiet man, always had been, and that didn’t change just because he now had two young children on his hands. But he loved them, his sister’s only blood left on this earth; by god, he loved them beyond reason.

Jiujiu was not a talker, but he was never distant, and though he was strict in his training of their cultivation and their swordsmanship, he was never harsh. So yes, life was quiet, but at least for a while there was a roof over their heads and food in their belly, and they never had to wonder where they would be tomorrow…

When jiujiu failed to return from his night-hunt, Lan Xichen knew that something had gone terribly wrong.

Lan Xichen was the older one; he was thirteen. Practically an adult, he told himself. If jiujiu never came back, then he was just going to have to take care of Wangji.

Whatever it takes.

His brother was not a needy child, but when he turned eleven, he seemed to have found his appetite and ate everything Xichen could get his hands on. Fishing was the easiest and hunting a big game lasted them a while if he could preserve it just right, but even if he collected berries in the mountains and wild herbs in the forest, he still needed grains, still needed new clothes for the winter, and still needed oil to light a lamp at night so Wangji could continue to practice his calligraphy.

He did try; you must know. Lan Xichen did try to do things the right way, but there was only so much money he could earn by book-keeping at a shop, or running errands for merchants, or even waiting tables at an inn. He was a child, and desperate, and nobody would pay him a dime if they could get away with a nickel.

It didn’t take long for Xichen to learn that the fastest way of earning money was often the most unsavoury and that he wasn’t above reaching for those means. There were no lengths Lan Xichen wouldn’t go to keep his brother safe and happy, no asset within his arsenal of skills and attributes that he wouldn’t hone and weaponize to make himself stronger. He got good at stealing, got great at cheating, and grew accustomed to killing. Every so often...if there were other offers available, well...Wangji would never need to know.

Morals do not matter if Wangji went hungry. I can’t let Wangji go hungry.

And, once a year, Lan Xichen would buy a box of osmanthus pastry, like the kind Mother used to make for them - flakey and fragrant, rich but not overwhelming - and he and Wangji would sit together under the stars and finish the box all in one go.

“Happy birthday, didi.”

Chewing slowly on the osmanthus pastry, Wangji would smile, and it would all be worth it.

“Thank you, xiongzhang.”

Then, three years after jiujiu was taken, a startling news broke out over the lands.

After years of internal strife, the dirty politics of Lanling Jin finally fractured the once glorious reigning sect. Jin Guangshan’s many children and their scheming “little mothers” formed factions and allied themselves with subsidiary sects all vying for control over Lanling’s seat of power. (小娘 xiao’niang = little mother, what one calls one’s mother if one’s mother is not the legal wife. The “real” mother of any children would always be the legal wife, while their birth mothers are ‘little mothers’.)

The details of Jin Guangshan’s demise was not entirely clear, but eventually it was his third son Jin Zitao who became the new Sect Master Jin. Being only eleven years old, it was clear to anyone who had eyes that he was a puppet, completely controlled by the whims of his regent mother, Jin Guangshan’s once favourite concubine, and the ancient respected Qin family who had promised their daughter Qin Su to be his bride once they both come of age.

People had praised Qin Su’s stepmother, Sect Master Qin’s second wife, for securing such an advantageous marriage for a daughter not even of her own blood, stating that with the Dowager Madame Jin’s clever mind and Sect Master Qin’s seniority and experience, surely the murky pond of Lanling would become peaceful once again.

The bigger question now was with three of the five major sects being led by minors - Qishan’s 14 year-old Wen Yuefan, Yunmeng’s 13 year-old Jiang Wanyin, and Lanling’s 11 year-old Jin Zitao - who then would become the next Chief Cultivator. Qinghe Nie seemed the most obvious choice at first glance, for they were the fiercest warriors, but given Sect Master Nie Heqiu’s most recent close encounter with yet another qi deviation, it seemed perhaps the real day-to-day leadership role was fulfilled by his first son Nie Mingjue. At seventeen years of age, he was certainly older than his contemporaries, but still a far cry from what was required to be His Excellency. (温越凡 Wen Yuefan = Wen Qing’s courtesy name)

Naturally, all eyes were drawn then towards Cloud Recesses, whose previous chance at obtaining the seat of Chief Cultivator had been dashed when its sect master at that time, Qingheng-jun, mysteriously vanished more than a decade ago. Now it seemed that Gusu Lan’s fortune was about to change yet again, when what once should have gone to Lan Cenrong now fell to his younger brother Lan Qiren.

News of his rise to power had spread far and wide, until every man, woman, and child knew his name. Until Lan Xichen heard from a gossiping bar-keep at a tavern. Until Lan Wangji heard from the children playing on the street.

One morning Lan Xichen returned to their temporary home to see Wangji sitting in front of the breakfast he’d prepared (when did he learn to cook???) and a purse on the table filled with silver coins and small gold nuggets.

“Wangji...where did you -”

“I don’t want you to go out at night again, xiongzhang,” said Lan Wangji bluntly.

Taken aback by Wangji’s tone and his implications, Xichen quickly gathered his wits and tried to maintain control of the conversation. “That doesn’t answer my question; where did you get the money?”

“I also went out last night, after you assumed I fell asleep and left.”

Xichen’s blood went cold. “You...went out? Out? In the middle of the night?! To do what?!”

Lan Wangji’s stoicism did not waver. “What one usually does to get paid at night. What you’ve been doing for years.”

In three long strides, Lan Xichen strode up to his little brother - his baby brother - and yanked him up by the collar. Grabbing his arms with both hands, he forced Wangji to look him in the eye as he exclaimed in a mad panic, “You didn’t! Tell me you didn’t!!”

God, Wangji, what have you done, what have you done - how could I let this happen - I should’ve done better -

Wangji did not blink, but after a long terrible silence, he said, “No. I didn’t. I just followed you. I saw.”

“You saw…”

There had been a man who eyed him with interest. Lan Xichen wasn’t looking for business - hadn’t been looking for months - but winter was coming and Wangji was growing so much he would need several new sets of robes. Xichen hadn’t been working as many hours as he’d been previously. He needed to train, to cultivate - they both did - so that one day they could do what needed to be done. The core melting technique was not to be trifled with lightly, jiujiu had warned them. They needed time to practice, to perfect it, time that couldn’t be used to earn income.

While yes he could steal and yes he could kill, Lan Xichen realized early on that those two options often caught the attention of local authorities or worse the local cultivation sect, especially if his activities were too frequent or too conspicuous. Sometimes it was just easier…

“The money, then?”

“Don’t you recognize the purse?”

Xichen turned around. He did. He did recognize that silk embroidered draw-string purse. It belonged to the man from last night. He had taken money out of it this morning to pay Xichen for his time.

And when they parted ways, Xichen had gone to a public bath house to get rid of any incriminating evidence on his body before going home to his brother. That was his routine... had been his routine for years…

“I shoved his body down a well. That should buy us enough time to get out of this town. You weren’t planning for us to stay that long anyway right?”

“Wangji…Wangji -” Lan Xichen turned away. He couldn’t face his brother, who now knew what he knew.

“Xiongzhang, don’t do this for me anymore.” Lan Wangji’s hand found his own, squeezing it tightly.

“It’s - it’s really not a big deal.” Lan Xichen tried to laugh it off. “I don’t do it that often. Really - I am your older brother, it is my duty to -”

“No. No more. From now on, if you go out, I go out. I’m old enough -”

“You’re thirteen, a child!”

“So were you.”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know I’m done waiting.”

Lan Wangji was talking, of course, about their vengeance. It was what they spoke of on most nights when they couldn’t sleep. For mother and father and jiujiu, they swore they would not rest until they razed Cloud Recesses to the ground and burned the core out of every last one of their disciples before slitting their throats.

Wangji came around to face him again and stared him down with his brows furrowed tightly above bright determined eyes. “It’s not fair. The Chief Cultivator was supposed to be Father! The heir of Gusu Lan is supposed to be you! Instead - instead...”

Tears welled up in his little brother’s eyes. “They hurt you, ge, I saw. I saw.”

Choking with shame, anger and a pain he couldn’t describe, Lan Xichen pulled Lan Wangji into a crushing hug. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Wangji. I’m sorry I couldn’t do better. I’m...” Words failed. As Lan Wangji cried into his chest, Lan Xichen looked up to their leaky roof and their bare, striped walls, and wondered what the ethereal Cloud Recesses would look like. All that should have been theirs, should’ve been his, belonged to someone else.

Lan Qiren is Chief Cultivator now. He’s still holding jiujiu captive. He needs to die. The people who killed Father and Mother; they all need to die.

“You’re right, Wangji, you’re right. No more.”

“So you won’t leave at night anymore?”

“I won’t. The world has taken everything from us, I think it’s time we take what we are owed. Once we are strong, we will save jiujiu and avenge A-die and A-niang.”

“And if people try to stop us?”

“Then we will destroy them and anyone else that gets in our way.”

#cql #the untamed #twin jades #lan wangji #lan xichen #cql ficlet #corie fics #carbon in the steel

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okay-victoria · 3 years ago

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Random Personal Rant

For anyone somehow here not from the original thread, this started off me getting asked what finishing school is and me getting shit off my chest that is only mildly relevant about how I could both be of the social class that gets sent to finishing school and grows up on welfare.

With an understanding that in many parts of the world it wouldn't qualify as so, as far as the US goes, my dad is from what counts as a very old money family from Baltimore & Philadelphia. Both his siblings went to college and one now owns a major hedge fund, and his sister is married to a C-level executive at a huge conglomerate. His parents went to college. His grandparents went to college. All eight of his great grandparents went to college. My dad...did not go to college. He was not about that life, and while I don't mean it as an insult, when I say his primary occupation until I was ~5 was a drummer in a mediocre band I mean that he opened for a lot of great acts, and if you lived in the Boston to Atlanta area in the 80s you may have heard him play, but he was never a huge national name. But he wasn't an amateur band playing for free at some random local gig either.

My mom grew up on a chicken farm in a Mennonite family in Pennsylvania but also completely rejected her heritage and became a model, sort of like my father, of mediocre status. Not Giselle Bundchen, but had national contracts and if you have a Graco ad/box from 1990-1993 you might see both me and her on it. They met because my mom's friends placed bets, one each, on who could sleep with a member of their favorite local band first and my mom picked my dad and...my mom was actually supposed to go be a model in Tokyo and found out she was pregnant with me and couldn't go 😂

So, after my parents had two kids back to back with a third on the way and determined they needed lifestyles more in line with having three children, they became much poorer than they originally were because my mom stopped working and my dad, with a barely-passed-high-school education but needing a true "day job" worked day labor in construction. My dad's father was too proud to give us money/help if my dad didn't beg for it; despite having eventually four young children my dad never did so we ended up on all the state assistance programs one could imagine. My grandma jokes that dinners at my parents house were BYOC - bring your own chair, because we didn't own any.

My mother and paternal grandmother had no such pride issues and I live in eternal gratitude that my welfare childhood was not as crappy as it should have been because my grandmother would have my mom accompany her on grocery runs and buy us food without my father or grandfather knowing, and every Christmas and birthday my grandparents/godparents could give us the one big ticket gift all the kids wanted that year. But, on the other side, I once got stung by a bee inside my mouth because my brother threw a hairbrush through a cracked window at me and broke it and we couldn't afford to fix it for about two years and a hornet got in one day and rested himself in my coke can (my parents were the very American type that fed me coca-cola in baby bottles at age 8 when I was jealous of my younger siblings lol).

It is hard not to believe in "toxic masculinity" when two men warring over dumbass pride issues would rather their children/grandchildren go without food than suck it up and decide 'help' isn't the worst word in the English language, and you know you've only been saved by two women who came from totally different backgrounds and entirely disapproved of each other but reached out the hand to shake when it came down to toddlers getting the short end of the don't-bend-the-knee stick. It wasn't that either of the men were bad people, I loved them both and got along great with both, but on a societal level I feel they were socialized in a very fucked up way if that was the end result, as both claimed "male pride" in these instances [my dad took multiple thousands of dollars I'd saved from working during college from me during the 2008-2010 financial crisis and didn't tell me and that was the reason I was given for why I hadn't been informed/asked, because it would be too emotionally difficult for an adult man to ask a young woman. My graduation present was them repaying me 1/3 of the money they'd taken from me without asking because I'd like, trusted them when it had been in a joint account that was a holdover from when I was <18 and couldn't have my own bank account].

While in some ways my parents on the surface achieved the American dream of going from nothing to a bunch of money, the real factor in play was that my dad's father was the bank. My parents had no credit and couldn't get real loans. My dad worked construction and during the two major periods that flipping houses was very lucrative, he never had to get an actual loan or pay actual interest, he just had to ask his father to pay out cash and then repay him at a flat 2% interest rate that didn't even accrue over time, just...whenever you are ready, repay the value of the loan + 2%. Because my father was doing something productive, in these instances, my grandfather was happy to pay, because it wasn't giving away money, it was loaning it. I had a very weird situation of mostly being poor but like also getting taken to the "big donors" events at the Kennedy Center and my grandparents regularly buying me a dress as a child worth more than my mom's wedding dress and also needing to pretend I fit in with these people.

And look. When I say "these people"...honestly, by and large, most wealthy people, whether inherited or not, are not the assholes you want to imagine. Most of them are extremely nice. Most of them are generous when it comes to the less fortunate who are in their personal sphere of being. Most of them are just really out of touch. The 100% kindest of all of them that I know once relayed to me that she thought people would be happier if once a year they did what she did...go to the airport with a purse packed full of absolute necessities, buy a one way ticket to the most appealing destination on the flight board, buy your clothes and book your accommodations after you'd arrived, and come back after you felt you'd 'centered' yourself. She didn't understand why there were so many unhappy people who weren't taking this very obvious route to being happier. I didn't quite know how to explain that saying "most" people couldn't afford to do that either financially or from a job/career angle didn't even cover it, as "most" sounds like 70% instead of 99.7%.

I was both my parents eldest son and eldest daughter in the worst combination possible. I was the eldest son because I was the most stereotypically male of all my siblings, in everything from desire to physically fight the battles I was given to dislike of shopping/fashion to lack of emotional connection to my relationships, so I can now fix your average household plumbing/drywall/electrical issue better than most "city" guys I interact with and remain less clingy to them in the process. I was also very much the oldest daughter from a responsibility perspective, I managed our household and from age 10 - 24 managed the finances of our family business, my mom almost died giving birth to my youngest brother after a ruptured uterus that should never have happened in the first place if we had adequate insurance to get her a non-emergency C-section (I was just past 9 years old at the time) and I was informally withdrawn from school for two years to take care of the family when she couldn't because there is no paid parental leave in the US and we got double-fucked by the medical industry because she got a bad "mesh" put in and then had to have a further surgery to repair that which we also had to pay for and didn't have the money to win a lawsuit over.

I don't know quite how to put this, but in the deepest fuck you of the universe, my rich-immigrant-ggggg grandfather's money led to him owning banks, insurance companies, etc, and the family cashed out in a big way when their ownership was bought by and merged with what is now Cigna, one of the biggest US healthcare insurers, and my nuclear family specifically got screwed by the American health insurance industry, but anyway, we were the people selected for that karmic comeuppance so if you want to feel schadenfreude at my expense, I'll allow it without begrudging the sentiment, my family might have fucked up your family’s life too, not just their own.

I got up twice a night to feed my brother because my dad had to sleep unmolested in my room to get to work and my mom was too weak to carry my brother or even hold him against her while she nursed so I had to hold him up to her. Adjusting to living in a city and hearing lots of random noises all the time was not easy when I'd had mom sound instincts from age 9.

I learned to drive the fall my youngest bro was born because my mom couldn't and I had to get my middle brother to preschool and go the grocery store on my own. While I hold absolutely no ill will towards my father or grandfather for this and given that about 1/3 of my paternal family either has an autism diagnosis or should, I fully feel the struggles they both went through to be communicated with, my father wouldn't ask for help, and my grandmother that lived 20 minutes away couldn't give enough help because my grandfather refused to do a single dish on his own as that was outside their "marriage contract" type agreement and she couldn't ever stay with us overnight when there wasn't a clearly-communicated need, so they let the burden fall on a 9 - 11 year old child and that really shaped a lot of my life in both good and bad ways. My youngest brother is 22, and we have only just climbed out of the medical debt his birth left us with between my dad's life insurance and my oldest brother and I paying for the extra cost of out-of-state college tuition.

The irony of all of this is that because my father died before his father, when my grandmother dies, my siblings and I will all inherit enough money (as a non-blood relative my mom, despite keeping her vows to part at death and not having remarried in eight years, is cut out entirely) to make this a non-issue, but my grandfather couldn't conscience spotting his unluckiest child some money in the end of days to pay for my youngest two brothers' education and take that worry off my father as he was dying. The day before he died I had to hold him down in bed to keep him from trying to climb in his truck to go to work because he was so anxious about trying to provide for us in spite of his father having fuck you money, because his father didn't think it was fair to the other siblings (who, at the time, still owned a major hedge fund and were married to a C-level executive of a huge conglomerate). A day and a half later I went back to my job because at the time I was then the sole provider for the family and didn't want to risk asking for the standard week's bereavement leave when I knew I was capable of showing up at work the next day and was fresh out of college so hadn't built up a reputation yet.

My father worked the day each of us was born, so I suppose it is only fair and he smiled at the choice. In spite of what it may seem, I gave a baller and very heartfelt speech at his funeral to all his rich friends that over and above everything, he'd taught us how to be happy with our own lives no matter what, and multiple of them emailed my mom in the aftermath to say they'd reassessed their relationship with their children in light of it, although...tbh I kind of doubt that lasted and they probably changed nothing 😅. The last good talk I had with him, two weeks before he died [his liver was going and it sent toxins to his brain that de-personed him after that and he no longer recognized me as his daughter, but as his sister], I reassured him that though we would all be sad he'd gone, we'd live on just fine without him because that's how he'd raised us, and according to my mom that was what gave him the final bit of peace he needed. Although honestly, I don't think I will ever see the strength in another human again that it took my grandmother to sit next to him and stroke his hand and tell him to close his eyes and imagine he was happy on a beach and die, for God's sake, because he was unaware and in pain and just prolonging it for our sake by then.

That type of obsession my grandfather had with assessing his children and grandchildren on the basis of economic productivity and a very black and white idea of "fair" is one you don't easily forget, I promise you. My hedge fund uncle is currently positioning himself to screw us out of our inheritance because of janky writing in the will and I'm doing my fuck all best to gain the wherewithal to go toe-to-toe with this cold motherfucker in court as the oldest and representative member of my happily much nicer and softer younger brothers who I want to remain that way not because I even care that much about the money, I know what bills affect your credit first and what you can put off paying and all of us have good enough career prospects to do our own thing, but just because I want to give the middle finger to a man that was a multi-millionaire and drew lines on his milk and orange juice bottles when I came over so he knew if I drank what my parents couldn't afford when I was approximately six. Anyway, ask me why I support major reforms in wealth taxation. I don't care who it goes to, just not that guy, you feel?

Having expendable income was very exciting for a bit after I started working but once I got to the hateable point of assessing my annual bonus and internally complaining that I'd spent the money I should have spent on a Sauternes cellar to drop five digits on bedset materials (to be fair they are drop dead gorgeous, very comfy and the factory pays a living wage for people to handmake the sheets/duvets/pillows to people in San Francisco, which is not cheap, so maybe I did more good than harm with that), I two seconds later nodded to myself and went "the government needs to confiscate more money from me". The narrative is always that the "undeserving" will use it for dumb things they don't need like iPhones or refrigerators...?...but like...I could also have gone to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought a very nice sheet/comforter set for at most a tenth of what I paid so am I really spending it responsibly either....?....who is going to get more joy out of this misspent money....?....not me, that is for sure, I probably would have had more fun going to BBB and laying on all the demo beds and buying something there.

My lifelong dream, which may become possible if/when I do have something of an inheritance, is to provide food security for one of the many towns in the US were most residents don't have it. It's the thing I remember the most distinctly over the years. I never could quite believe it when I got to the point that I could just...pay to eat at a restaurant. One of the most disappointed my mother has ever been in me is when I was twenty five and confessed I actually had no idea how much a gallon of milk cost in a city grocery store besides that it was probably between $1 and $5, because I didn't have to know. For now I make a weekly drop off of my excess produce to a mom group I met under somewhat weird circumstances but I was walking through the cut-through that went through the low-income housing back to my apartment at like 2 AM on a Saturday and these moms were out there partying and smoking weed with their kids all strapped in strollers around or the older ones watched by a rotating member of the group and I felt very safe and like these moms had a very good vibe of both living their own lives [seriously for mental health parents but in most cases specifically mothers need to be able to keep up relationships with people their age] but keeping their children safe and accounted for while doing so and trying their fuckin' best against all the odds to figure out how to make that happen when life had dealt them a shit hand.

...anyway, looping way back to the original question of what finishing school is, when I was almost done with middle school my dad had built a legit construction business that then very quickly took off because we lived in a commutable zip code to the now-rich-in-their-own-right people he went to high school with who trusted him to redo their homes. We eventually moved to that zip code but I stayed and commuted back to my old high school. But, i was a pretty wild kid which my father appreciated for a long while because I would follow him around on jobs and enjoy doing physical labor, but once I was mid-puberty and also he had to maybe show me to his high school friends that did not fly.

I snapped - not broke, snapped - my left thumb and my parents had to trap me like a wild animal to get me to go the hospital. Then I got a deep cut that partially injured a tendon in my leg and at eleven I tried to beat the shit out of my dad to prevent him from picking me up to strap me in the car and go to the hopsital. Next I got a deep splinter due to my eternal-barefoot tendencies and it wouldn't come out so got infected and I refused to go to the doctor [another weird back story but I was minorly sexually assaulted [[to be clear, not raped or anything big traumatic]] when I was eight and had to stay in hospital for a week and my parents couldn't be with me all the time so I have a permanent heebie-jeebie about going to the hospital, not true anxiety, I will go if I know I need to and I don't breathe heavy or anything, and I'm actually not permanently weirded out by sex or anything, just doctors in hospitals specifically I kind of unconsciously try to justify not needing to the extent I can rationalize it] and my dad was tired of my antics so he was like "fine if you don't go I will slice your foot in half with a Swiss Army knife to get it out" and I called his bluff and laid down on the floor, stuck my foot on his lap, and he didn't really know what to do when a barely fourteen year old girl called his bluff so my brothers watched in fascinated but horrified awe as I got my foot sliced open spectacularly so that the infection/splinter could come out and I didn't even make a sound out of spite despite it being quite painful to my recollection almost twenty years later.

They saw me cry from pain exactly one time when while trying to break up a fight between all three of them (it was over ice cream) I got pushed and my ankle got dislocated and what actually made me cry was snapping it back in place and they realized it was not a joke. These dumb assholes that I love have ragged on me for "skipping" chores the day after I was in the hospital because the day before that I had to spend 18 hours running Thanksgiving as a good sub-hostess like I didn't have a serious infection that needed treating and couldn't rest because none of them were up to any task beyond peeling potatoes.

After the Swiss Army knife incident, my dad's discussion of sending me to finishing school became real, which I knew when my mom made me take a walk with her and talked about it. Finishing school is like...etiquette school....? In ye olden day when finishing high school was not the norm for anyone, wealthy men finished high school and wealthy women often went to "finishing" school to have a combined education on being a proper lady but also being able to hold a decent conversation with your presumably-educated husband, so it wasn't entirely etiquette non-academic. It was more just like "what a rich man wants in a wife" school, which was sort of household management and knowing enough about cleaning/cooking to correct the staff if they fucked up, how to be a polite hostess, and how to not entirely bore him when you were alone together and had done your five minutes of sex or whatever so actually had to have a conversation. In modern times it has obviously expanded to be less bleak.

I said miss me with that, I can be a girl on my own, so I went full throttle into the girliest sport they offer in high school and ever since have gained the inestimable advantage of knowing how to also use femininity to my advantage, which I am very grateful to my parents for making me learn. It would be great if we lived in a world where that didn't count, but it did/still does, and they really set me up to operate in all the worlds.

It is weird for me to tell the story to Internet strangers because it's one of those things that makes your parents sound terrible and abusive in the general tone of the Internet nowadays, and while I support gender nonconforming children I don't remember my childhood or parents that way. But, I feel like the bits and pieces of my life I've given don't always make a ton of sense together without the context, so here it is, and in the end, I think a number of parts of it are areas where you can probably understand where it makes me have the opinions I do when I write.

Anyhoo, this makes my life sound far worse than it is, I actually have a great life and I am not unhappy with it at all and feel I was on the whole blessed with many more turns of luck than unluck, so, please, do not take this as a depressed artist rant, it is more like a rant of a very energetic person who rants about a lot of things all the time and didn’t need to come out but just did because the question was asked and the time was right with my life being in a bit of flux to think about how I got where I am and where I want to go and why.

Always remember no matter what problems it seems like I have, if I didn’t solve them on my 2 year round the world traveling hiatus I took from working, it’s my own fault, I definitely had the time and money to solve them and just chose not to.

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yikesharringrove · 4 years ago

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(( Soooo Pokemon AU? Idk if you’re a fan of Pokemon but given all the cool snippets and stuff you’ve written I figured I’d return the favour in a way and write this and submit it to you! I included some notes at the end! ))

– Unstable Genes –

Billy knew Steve would have a preppy, rich boy Pokemon. He just knew it. Granted he expected it to be something more powerful and less, cute.

The Eevee was always at Harrington’s side, matching brown doe-eyes observing the school. It didn’t shy from the larger Pokemon that approached it, nor did it act sickeningly sweet. It stood it’s ground, head held high, matching Steve’s general disinterest in the bustle of the school or the gossip around it. It was so weird to see such a small ball of fluff regard bigger, tougher Pokemon with such little concern. Billy didn’t know a lot about Eevees but he knew Steves was… off. For one thing, the aloofness. For another, it was (apparently) strong as fuck according to Tommy and half the school. Tommy in particular wouldn’t shut up about the battles the little Eevee had won, helping to secure old King Steve’s crown before he lost it. The other thing was that it hadn’t evolved, despite Steve apparently having it since he was ten.

Billy knew an Eevee’s DNA was extremely fucked. They evolved if you so much as looked at them funny. Buy some expensive stone and shove it in your Eevee’s face? it’ll evolve. Take them aboard to some fancy place and rub it on a stone in a specific place? It’ll evolve. Give it a ton of cake and pet it a bunch? It’ll evolve. It’s not hard to get those things if you can afford the Eevee in the first place. There were no wild Eevee’s anywhere; they were all from breeders and cost far more than anyone should pay for a Pokemon, so if you could afford the Eevee, you’d evolve it. If you weren’t keeping it for a pet.

It just made Billy all the more curious. Curious about the once King Steve and his un-evolved Eevee. And Klaus - his Luxio, the only Pokemon he had managed to keep from Cali - was equally curious. It wanted a decent fight. It saw the little Eevee, heard the stories, and licked it’s teeth, eyes gleaming. Klaus always looked for that Eevee, always trying to catch it’s gaze, caught between growling for it’s attention and purring, letting eelctricity crackle in it’s fur with every step. Billy couldn’t blame Klaus. He saw Steve and ached for the fight. To see his eyes focus on them and them alone, take charge of the battle, hear him issue commands to that Eevee. To get Steve’s skin under his fists, under his hands, to scratch, to grip, to grapple. To feel him sweat and bleed. To press him down with his body.

Then came the Night. Billy got to face King Steve, staring him down after being sent on a bullshit mission to find Max. He’d wanted this for so long but not like this. Not when it was backed up with the shit from his old man. Not when he saw Max peered from the window. Not when Steve fucking lied to his face about his sister being there with a bunch of weird boys. Klaus snarled, and Steve’s little Eevee puffed up, digging kitten claws into the earth.

It was criminal Billy couldn’t remember the fight that followed, thanks to the drugs Max had shot into him (that shit was crystal clear - the rest of the tape, the good shit, was covered in static and fuzz). He remembered throwing a punch. He remembered getting punched back. He remembered smashing a plate. He remembered feeling a pair of canines sink into his ankle as the little furball bit him, evading his attempts to kick it off. He remembered Klaus lunging, electricity crackling in his teeth as he lunged at the Eevee. And then, jackshit. But he saw the results of it the next day.

Steve was bruised, deep purple splotches darkening as his body worked to recover. On his pale skin they were beautiful, vivid proof that Billy had gotten his hands on King Steve and left a mark. Steve glanced over and for a moment, their eyes met. Billy didn’t look away. Steve didn’t either. Billy resisted the urge to lick his teeth. To make it another challenge. It was when his Luxio gave a deep, rumbling noise beside him, caught between a growl and a purr, that Billy turned, following his Luxio’s gaze to the Pokemon at Steve’s side. Billy wanted to punch something. Steve’s Eevee was no longer an Eevee. Steve’s Eevee had evolved, during or just after their fight, and he couldn’t remember it.

Billy didn’t know a lot about Eevee’s aside from them evolving at the drop of a hat. He didn’t know what it was, but it was not a preppy little furball anymore. It’s fur was sleek and black, with yellow rings on it’s legs and forehead, matched by bands around it’s ears and tail. The doe-like, black eyes were gone, replaced by knowing, red eyes. It looked directly at Billy. For an eternity, Billy stared at it as it watched him. The yellow rings glowed and dimmed in a hypnotic pulse rhythm. Yellow on black, like every caution and warning sign Billy had seen. Finally, it turned, following Steve down the hallway.

It didn’t take long to find a book on Eevees in the library, to find out what the hell Harrington’s Eevee had become. He found the page with a picture of the Pokemon, reading through it and freezing, ignoring the dirty look from the libraian as Klaus stood on his hind legs to look at the book, as if he could fucking read (Really, he was just staring at the picture).

“Umbreon, the Moonlight Pokemon. A well trained Eevee with a strong bond to it’s trainer can evolve into an Umbreon under the influence of the Moon.

A nocturnal hunter, it blends in with darkness by dimming the markings on it’s body. When excited and ready to strike, the markings shine brightly, startling it’s prey. It’s possible that it uses the glow of it’s markings to communicate with others… Not much is known about this Pokemon; Umbreons (and Espeons; see page 196) are unknown in the wild, and few trainers evolve their Eevees this way. Most cite that it is easier to evolve their Eevees through other means and train them appropriately according to how they evolve, rather than spend the time to attain these forms and then hone their training. Fewer still are willing donate their Pokemon for research on this elusive species…”

Billy looked down at Klaus, snapping the book shut. He knew Max had told him to stay away from her little weirdo friends. Which apparently included Steve. Which was still extremely fucking weird. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know what the fuck happened that night. Why Steve was there. What the fuck Max and those kids were doing. How Steve’s Eevee had evolved from some little bundle of fluff into a literal Pokemon of the night. “Klaus. We got some training to do.”

—

(( Steve’s Pokemon is an Eevee! It’s a rare Pokemon; in earlier games it couldn’t be found in the wild at all, and you’d only get one given to you. They can evolve into a total of eight different Pokemon, depending on what method you use, and each evolved Pokemon is a different type with different stats and abilities. So it’s very popular! It feels like the kind of thing Steve’s parents would give him and think “yep, we’re good parents, back to work/never being at home”. And given how listless Steve generally is, he wouldn’t have decided how to evolve it. Until it evolves in response to…well, the everything happening! Steve’s evolved into an Umbreon, a dark type, which has high defensive stats. Eevee evolves into Umbreon when it had a strong bond with it’s trainer and levels up at night-time - I feel like the events of Stranger Things would cause Steve to develop a very real bond with it and cause the evolution. And I can’t decide what he would name it or if it would be a boy or a girl (girls are much rarer than males - it’s like a 1/8 chance of obtaining a female Eevee).

>>>

Billy’s Pokemon is a Luxio! It’s essentially a teenage lion, and an electric type. They’re not super rare but they look extremely rad and channel electricity into their claws/fangs when they attack! They also develop the ability to see through walls when their eyes gleam a golden colour, which they use to trakc prey or lost cubs of theirs… It evolves from a Shinx (a cub basically) and then evolves into a Luxray (the adult lion). It feels very Billy to me! I imagine he had another pokemon that was a water type/fish, so he had to leave them in the sea when he ended up going to Hawkins. I also took the name Klaus from the lead singer of the Scorpions cos I am not that good at coming up with names.

God this ended up being massive, I completely understand if you don’t post this. I don’t really know how to sign this off cos this is literally my first contribution to the Harringrove fandom despite lurking for a while. But again, thank you for all the stuff you write! I hope that even if you don’t like Pokemon, this makes ya smile. I guess I should leave a name or something, URM

- that guy who made the stupidly long Pokemon AU submission

I LOVE pokemon this is so fucking good. I’ve definitely thought about Steve having an Eevee before, and I love it evolving That Night, especially into Umbreon, that’s so GOOD and POWERFUL. I also love the idea of Steve with Mimikyu for,,,, angst reasons. And I love Billy with Luxio. I totally see him with electric or fire types because he would really like the strength and energy those types bring. I’ve thought about him with Cubone (also for angst reasons), or even Growlithe/Arcanine mostly bc I’m more familiar with gen 1 and 2. Seriously, I love this SO MUCH and if you ever wanna write more 👀👀 I would LOVE to read it.

#submit to yikes #submission #this is the fucking best think ever #thank you for the submission #harringrove #not my writing #steve harrington #billy hargrove #pokemon au

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crystal-snowing · 4 years ago

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fake dating | seo changbin

synopsis: in order to take over the family company there is one condition that you need to fulfill, and in the heat of the moment and without thinking things through, you happen to mention your best friend, seo changbin.

genre: best friends to lovers!au, rich! reader, idol!au

word count: 4.6k

warnings: alcohol consumption and some light swearing

a/n: i am now trying to restrain myself from starting any new series until i finish these uncompleted ones, join me on my journey to see if i actually follow through with this :)) also, this gif was edited by me, but the original gif belongs to @/changbeanie

seo changbin has been a constant figure in your life for as long as you can remember.

it only made sense, after all, you were a part of the wealthy and illustrious [l/n] family, owners and inventors of some of the most high-end technology in south korea.

when you were both children, fancy socialite gatherings were definitely not your scene, and being the only two kids there, it only made sense that the two of you would strike up a friendship.

and this friendship continued to last as the two of you grew older, and even though you both went on separate paths, you both continued to stay in contact.

it wasn’t a surprise to you when you learned that he had become an idol, especially debuting under the coveted company of JYP, he just had this knack about him—some kind of drive, that made you know he was going to go far.

you, on the other hand, had your life planned out for you since the day you were born.

it was only natural that you were going to inherit the multi-million dollar company from your parents, they would want it to go to nobody else except their own child, and you didn’t have a choice to decide otherwise.

all your life you have been groomed for this position, and while attending school and then university, did you retain some of your independence and freedoms, you knew that it would all be over as soon as you graduated.

it was pointless to try and delay your future, but there were nights were you longed for the freedoms of just being a normal person, instead of the heir to the [l/n] cooperation.

and in more ways than one, did you envy the freedom and fun that your best friend seemed to be having in comparison to you.

but as you grew older, you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else but running the company, it was your life and it was in your blood.

in more ways than one, you were determined to succeed in all the ways that your parents failed, and you would make yourself worthy of the position CEO rather than a spoiled brat who simply inherited the position.

however, what you were not expecting was a second request from your parents the day that you were signed over as the new CEO.

“you want me to do what?”

“it’s simple [y/n], sweetie, it’s not like we’re asking you to make a life altering decision!”

“mother, with all due respect, but i don’t want to get married.”

“well, then i’m afraid that you don’t really have a choice. i’m sorry for giving you an ultimatum like these, but either you find yourself a suitable husband, or the company will have a new heir.”

to say that you were baffled was a complete understatement.

but, you needed this, the company, this lifestyle—everything, and you were not willing to let a slight hiccup in your plans deter you from getting what you wanted.

and before you could stop yourself, the words had already spilled out of your mouth—a desperate attempt to keep everything that you have worked for still within your grasp.

“i’m not sure i’m going to need to find a husband, when i already have a boyfriend.”

oh how the tables have turned.

turning away you fiddled with the hem of your clothing underneath the table, it was a blatant lie for sure, but you were desperate and if this was the only way that you could acquire the company, then so be it.

however you weren’t in the clear just yet, your mother narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, still skeptical of your statement.

“you’ve never mentioned a boyfriend, who is this boy and when can we meet him?”

crap, you didn’t think this far ahead—the jig was up, you were done for, and now you were going to be in even more trouble for lying.

you had to think quickly, something, anything that could possibly get you out of this predicament and quickly.

and once again, as if you didn’t learn from your mistake just a few minutes ago, you opted for saying the name that came to mind.

“seo changbin, he’s my boyfriend.”

finally, that seemed to render your mother speechless, as you quickly bid your parents goodbye with a promise that you would call them later and set up a meeting.

it was only when you stepped out of the building, could you feel the cool breeze on your heated cheeks, did you finally understand the gravity of the situation that you were in.

somehow, if it was even possible, you seemed to have dug yourself into an even deeper hole than before.

slumping against the building and sliding down to the concrete sidewalk below, you placed your head in your hands and roughly scrubbed your face, wondering how you could have possibly ended up in a situation like this.

in all honesty, both you and changbin had not lost contact per se, but kind of drifted apart—both of you had become preoccupied with other responsibilities, and texting nonstop was more harmful than beneficial.

you weren’t on terrible terms, so you could assume this fact was at least a partial silver lining in this fucked up situation.

but, on the other hand, it was kind of awkward for you to suddenly call him out of the blue, and ask him to do this relationship-altering favor for you after you both have spoken to each other in so long.

but, once again, what choice did you have?

reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your cellphone before dialing the familiar number, waiting only three rings before he picked up.

“i made a boo-boo,” you couldn’t help the phrase that tumbled out of your mouth as soon as he answered.

he chuckled slightly before answering, “well, hello to you too, we haven’t talked in almost three months and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

letting out a deep sigh, you hastily explained the predicament that you were in, everything from inheriting the company, to how your parents set up this ridiculous condition in order for you to do so.

“and so i kind of may have, sorta, mentioned your name,” you mumbled, clutching the phone close to your ear as you gnawed harshly on your lower lip.

there was silence on the other end of the line for a couple of seconds, and you could vaguely heard what sounded like screams of other boys in the background, with the sound of laughter and loud music following them.

“i completely understand if you can’t do this, i mean with your career and everything and this could really jeopardize everything, i mean i honestly don’t even know what came over me when i—” you continued to stammer, tapping your fingers rapidly against the back of your phone.

“[y/n], relax, take a deep breath and relax,” and upon following his instructions, you could easily feel some of the stress leave your body as he continued, “right now isn’t really the best time, but let me call you back later tonight, and we can talk about this.”

but that didn’t answer your question, in fact it only seemed to cause a resurgence in your anxiety, and before he could hang up you mumbled out another question.

“this means you’ll help me, right?”

it was almost inaudible, how softly you whispered, and you weren’t sure if he even heard you, but as soon as you heard his laughter, you were a bit perplexed to say the least.

you weren’t sure what to think about the chuckling on the other side of the line, but it filled you with a sense of warmth—a sensation that you haven’t felt in a long while.

“yes, i’ll be your fake boyfriend,” changbin confirmed softly, before bidding you goodbye.

currently, it was close to eleven o’clock at night, and still there was no sign of life from the electronic device, and you were stressed to say the least.

he said that he would call, he said that he would call—a mantra that was currently repeating like a broken record inside your head.

however, your anxiety soon turned to confusion as soon as you heard a faint knock at your front door.

visitors at this hour were unheard of, especially for you, who lived in a penthouse on the top floor of the apartment complex, the most secluded portion of the building.

taking a look through the peephole, you were surprised to see changbin there, dressed in casual grey sweats and sneakers with a black mask and cap covering most of his features, but to you it was completely obvious that it was him.

quickly you opened the door and ushered him into your apartment, closing it behind him and prompting him to take off his makeshift disguise.

“what are you doing here, i thought you were going to call?” you asked, turning around and facing him, your eyes widening a bit as you drank in his appearance.

he looked good, honestly, good was not even the word to describe how good he looked.

even though it has been a couple months since the two of you last texted each other, it has been maybe a couple of years since you both have seen each other—and you had to admit, whatever they have been feeding him at jyp entertainment has certainly done him well.

he has muscles now and long-gone was the lanky boy from middle school, his skin was glowing, and there was something about the way that he carried himself, perhaps with more confidence that was perhaps kind of attractive.

“we haven’t seen each other in so long, i was thinking that you wouldn’t mind me paying you a visit,” changbin grinned, flashing his pearly whites.

yikes, suddenly it was feeling a bit stuffy in the room, as you turned away and adjusted the baggy old t-shirt that you were wearing, suddenly self-conscious about the way that you were dressed.

grabbing some drinks from the kitchen, you offered one to him as you both sat on the couch, popping the top of the bottle, you took a long sip before whipping your mouth with the back of your hand, before speaking.

“so, this is what i need you to do.”

it was simple, really, you were going to schedule a dinner with your parents and introduce him as your boyfriend and in the meantime you just needed to fill both of your phones up with “memories” of the two of you in order to really sell the story that you have been dating for months.

now, the tricky part was revolving everything around changbin’s situation as an idol.

there was no way you were willing to drag his name through the mud and absolutely tarnish everything that he has worked for, but this relationship had to be believable and in order for that to work there was bound to be conflicts in scheduling.

perhaps, you had thought too rashly about this whole situation, who were you kidding, you weren’t even thinking when you blurted out his name, and now you were in a deep dilemma.

and after voicing your concerns to him, he waved his hand, telling you that it was no problem at all—promising you that he was going to keep this, his personal life, private from his idol life.

and so everything started to be set in motion.

it began with the cryptic posts that you started posting on instagram, most of the time they showed a picture of you in the city or some food that you would eat, nothing typically out of the ordinary.

a few days later, changbin would post something on the official stray kids account, a similar picture to your own, as if he was mirroring everything that you posted.

none of your antics seemed to draw suspicion from the public, which was a good sign, so you decided to up the ante.

“no, you’re standing all wrong,” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at changbin.

“what do you mean, i’m standing exactly how you want me to,” he chuckled, mimicking your stance, “maybe you’re the one standing wrong.”

instead of answering, you slapped him lightly on the arm, “let’s just do this again, and make sure you follow exactly what i tell you!”

he rolled his eyes playfully before doing what he was told.

you stood in front of him in front of a mirror, his hands came to wrap around your hips, as his head nuzzled into your neck, and for the final touch, your hand interlocked with one that was resting on your hip.

he smelled good, like really good, perhaps a mix of sandalwood and some kind of light citrus.

you couldn’t deny the heat that flooded your cheeks, feeling the warmth radiate off of him, his scent making you feel a bit lightheaded.

this was your idea after all, but you didn’t think that you were going to get like this swooning over your best friend as if you were back in middle school all over again.

that’s right, seo changbin was nothing more than just your best friend, and thinking these things about him was only going to drive a wedge between the two of you.

snapping the picture quickly, you pulled away, causing a small frown to flash across his lips, before vanishing.

“so, how did it come out?” changbin asked, peeking over your shoulder as he shoved his now empty arms inside of his pockets.

“uh, really good! don’t worry, your face is completely covered, so nobody will know.”

“we should probably meet by the pier next week to take some more, i heard that was a popular spot for couples,” he nodded, pulling away slightly from your figure.

you couldn’t help that warm and fuzzy feeling from tingling up your spine as the word “couple” left his mouth.

it was foolish to think this way, and you knew that, but in all honesty, how could you possibly help yourself?

somewhere in these past few weeks, the line between “newly reconnected best friends” and “perhaps something more” began to blur and you found yourself lost in a sea of emotions and feelings.

he was a successful idol, with seven other successful members that were counting on him, and something like this, would be detrimental to his career.

something like this could never happen, and even indulging in it for a second was not worth the wasted time and effort.

but, only for a second, you could wish that the two of you were different people in another life, perhaps ordinary people and then maybe things wouldn’t be so complicated.

somehow you had attempted to convince yourself that you were content with the way life was right now, trapped in the limbo that you called a love life, and perfectly happy with the very real feelings you were currently experiencing with your fake boyfriend.

“you have that look on your face again, is it the food?” changbin asked, tilting his head to the side with his eyebrows furrowed, “i can call the waiter back and you can order something else if you want, i don’t mind.”

the salty breeze surrounded you, and for a second you thought you were going to be sick.

it was almost nauseating the way that he was looking at you, there was so much care and consideration in his eyes, that you were practically ready to yeet throw yourself off of the boardwalk and into the ocean below.

it was unfair the way that he was acting right now, it was almost as if he expected you to fall for him and at this rate, you weren’t sure if you could stop.

the candle light illuminated his features perfectly, casting a soft shadow on his handsome face that your heart already skipped ten beats since you’ve got here—and with his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, exposing his muscles, it was already game over.

you had already finished taking pictures, and you had already uploaded them to your account, the picture of you and him (his face obscured of course) was already generating thousands of likes, and you were both just enjoying your food and each other’s company.

“it’s nothing! i don’t want to ruin the night,” you dismissed his worries with a wave of your hand, taking your fork and shifting the food on your plate from one side to the other.

while your attention was fixated on the plate in front of you, you were oblivious to the deep frown that was etched on his lips.

in one swift motion, he reached across the table and grabbed your wrist, forcing you to look at him.

“your problems are my problems, at the end of the day we’re still best friends, and i don’t want that to change between us.”

the intensity and sincerity that reflected through his brown eyes caused shivers to travel down your spine, but ouch did his words sting.

flashing him a sheepish smile, you gently tugged his hand off of your wrist, the warmth almost a painful reminder of his words, before speaking.

“i’m fine, don’t worry about me!” you paused, swallowing the lump in your throat, “how about we go play some carnival games after dinner, those used to be our favorite when we were kids.”

he didn’t put up much of a fight as you grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the table after paying, both of you getting lost in the bright lights and sounds of the boardwalk.

and at the end of the night, when he dropped you back off at your apartment with a giant teddy bear and polaroids in your hand, you couldn’t help but somehow taste the bittersweetness on your tongue.

that night, the words “best friends” were the only thing ringing through your head as you drifted off to sleep.

fast forward a couple of months later, and you found yourself stressing out at the most upscale restaurant in the city, practically guzzling the entire bottle of wine that the waiter left unattended at your table.

sitting on your right sat changbin, dressed handsomely in a tie and suit, eyeing you as you finished your second glass within fifteen minutes of arriving.

“woah there, don’t you think you should chill out with the alcohol,” he scolded you grabbing both the bottle and the glass, moving it away from you as you merely shrugged.

“they’re not here yet, plus if i’m sober, they are definitely going to see right through this lie.”

there was already a slight haziness to your vision and your whole body was filled with warmth, but you were definitely not as intoxicated as you wish you were.

and that wasn’t exactly the whole truth either.

you see, changbin looked absolutely dashing in that suit, and well that was making your heart hurt a little more than you expected.

it had nothing to do with the suit itself, no, in fact he hasn’t done anything wrong per se ever since he picked you up for the dinner tonight.

instead, you were completely and utterly upset at him, and everything about him frustrated you to no end.

this dinner right here was the end game, it was simple really, after your parents accepted him and with the promise that the two of you would get married, the company was yours.

then, the two of you would “breakup” and your parents cannot rescind their offer without looking like fools in front of the media—therefore, everything that you could ever want was waiting for you as soon as this dinner ended.

however, was it really everything that you wanted?

because the man that was currently sitting next to you was certainly not excluded from the list.

he was making you reevaluate if this was all that you wanted for the rest of your life, like yes, you would have the company—the sole thing that you have you wanted since you were a child, but you wouldn’t have him.

and you weren’t sure if the company was even worth it anymore if you could never truly have him.

and as you were about to reach for both the bottle and glass, the ding of the elevator stopped you cold in your tracks, and you instead opted for sitting gracefully back down in your seat.

there, entering the room were your parents, a composed expression etched on their faces as they made their way over to your table.

“[y/n], my darling, it’s nice to see you,” your mother greeted you, before turning her attention away and onto your companion, “and who is this?”

holding back a sigh, you cleared your throat before speaking, “this is my boyfriend, seo changbin.”

pleasantries between your parents and him were exchanged, and now it was time to commence the most dreadful dinner that you have ever attended.

it was so obvious that your parents were suspicious of changbin, and unlike you, they were not as good at concealing their feelings.

they started with the usual questions, “oh, how long have the two of you been dating?”, “what do you do for a living?”, “what are your intentions with my child?”, etc.

and while the both of you have prepped for these questions, he definitely answered better than you could have hoped, some of his answers seeming so genuine that it made your chest ache.

throughout the night, you could feel his gaze lingering on you as you continued to sip more wine, the alcoholic beverage making you feel warm and slightly numbed the pain of sitting here and having to listen to your parents incessantly brag about their jobs.

the night was soon drawing to a close, and you were absolutely certain that changbin had won over your parents, they would not stop laughing at his jokes and their whole demeanor was like something you have rarely seen, for once, they looked happy.

“thank you for coming tonight, and i really enjoyed meeting you,” changbin bowed slightly, as your parents dismissed him with a wave of their hand.

“it was our pleasure meeting you again, and make sure you tell your mother hello for us,” your mother smiled as she made her way towards the elevator.

she walked over towards you and gave you a hug, whispering in your ear that by tomorrow the company was yours, before both of your parents walked into the elevator and the doors closed with a firm click.

this should have been your moment of victory, your moment of joy—your moment of realizing that everything that you have worked for was finally being realized, but it wasn’t.

walking out of the restaurant, you couldn’t help but admire how brightly the stars seemed to twinkle in the sky tonight, despite the ever bright lights of seoul.

“oh no, i know that look, do you wanna tell me where your head is at, [n/n]?”

your eyes glanced up to meet his own, before looking away admiring the bright lights of the city instead of having to confront him and talk about your problems.

you were perfectly content with walking back to your apartment this way, in complete and utter silence, but your last straw seemed to be when he draped his jacket around your shoulders.

“you need it more than i do, plus it’s cold ou and your parents would never forgive me, if you caught a cold.”

that seemed to be the straw that broke camel’s back, and you weren’t sure what came over you, but you suddenly exploded.

“just stop alright, it’s over, whatever this is between us is over.”

you could feel him slightly flinch at your words, pulling away from your figure as his eyes narrowed at you.

“what are you talking about? what is ‘this’? i was just helping you, doing a favor for a friend, and this is the thanks that i get?” he scowled, folding his arms across his chest as you both stopped walking, standing merely three feet away from each other on a deserted street.

friend, that word just slapped you in the face, as you scowled and turned away from him.

“y’know what, just forget i even said anything, i can find my way home alone.”

turning your heel, you were about to stalk away in a huff, cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger, but before you could even take another step, you were tugged back towards him.

his warm hand enveloped your wrist, holding you firmly in place as you frowned at him.

“there’s no way i’m letting you walk home this late at night, if anything happened to you, i would never forgive myself.”

you couldn’t help but scoff at his statement, “you can stop pretending, it’s fine, you can drop the act.”

you could practically see the gears turning in his head, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he attempted to follow along your haphazard thought process.

you weren’t sure if the alcohol was impairing your judgement or not, but before you could stop yourself, you blurted out what you have been thinking the entire night, “you can stop pretending that you like me.”

cue the awkward tension, the grip on your hand loosened, and you were free to escape perhaps one of the most embarrassing moments of your life, but for some reason you feet was rooted to the ground—waiting, wishing, and hoping for a response.

“who said i was pretending?”

ah, there it was the rejection that you have been waiting—wait.

his voice cut through the silence like a knife, and you jerked your head up so fast that you almost gave yourself whiplash.

“you, me, like, what?”

your less-than grammatically correct sentence seemed to lessen the awkward tension, his laugh warming you despite the coolness of the night.

“yes, me like you,” he grinned, pulling you closer to him until you were pressed against his chest, “and i agree, we should stop whatever this is and start dating for real.”

“wow, aren’t you a charmer, changbin,” you chuckled lightly, practically feeling his heart beat in sync with your own.

you weren’t sure if you were hallucinating or not, but you could swear that the distance between both of your faces was starting to get smaller and you could practically feel his warm breath tingling your lips.

“i’m going to kiss you now, is that okay?”

you meekly nodded, before his lips were pressed firmly against your own, his hands coming to wrap around your waist as you moved yours around his neck.

of course, he had to be such a great kisser, and you were wondering if there was possibly anything that seo changbin was bad at.

his lips were slightly chapped, but with the way his hands were moving through your hair and the way he was making you lightheaded and unsteady on your feet, was enough for you to overlook that.

pulling away, he pressed his forehead against your own, and the only sound that could be heard was the soft breathless gasps from the both of you.

“now that i have you, i swear, i’m never letting you go.”

#stray kids imagines #sk imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin imagines #seo changbin scenarios #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #my writing #districtninewriters

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lovelylogans · 3 years ago

Text

honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror)

see other chapters, notes, and warnings here!

chapter four: symbiosis

symbiosis: interaction between two different organisms living in close physical association, typically to the advantage of both.

VIRGIL

“Uh,” Virgil says, scrambling in the face of his mother—hair wrapped for the night, blinking the sleep out of her eyes, her arms crossed, “My—myself?”

Technically true, he guesses, according to some of the sensate’s personal beliefs about the connections they share with their clusters, according to Logan according to Dot. Like having other selves scattered across the world.

Andisiwe frowns. “At this time of night?”

Virgil shrugs weakly.

She frowns deeper. Then:

“You know,” she says, looking at him very intently, “your grandmother used to talk to herself at all times of day, too.”

Virgil stays silent. His mother crouches to sit with him on the floor, settling with a long sigh.

“About anything at all,” she continues. “She’d talk about the snow when this country hadn’t seen snow for ten years. She’d laugh when no one told a joke, cried when nothing sad had happened. She’d make recipes I’d never heard of before. You remember her pitha?”

Virgil nods, confused. Of course he remembers her pitha. They’d have it at every large family gathering.

“That’s an Indian dessert. She’d never left South Africa in all her life, but she knew how to make pitha and speak Tamil like she was born in Bangalore. Just like you were speaking a language other than Xhosa or English just now.”

Oh, Virgil thinks, then, oh.

“So unless you started taking language lessons while studying for your doctorate,” she says, staring at him.

Virgil chews at the inside of his cheek.

“No,” he says hoarsely. “No, I didn’t.”

She nods, accepting this. “How long…?”

“I don’t know,” Virgil admits. “A week and a half? Two weeks?”

“Not long at all,” she murmurs. “ I suppose it might skip a generation. She told me once it started when she was a child. A horrible headache struck her, and once it let up she had seven new friends all around the world. When they were all ten, maybe.”

Ten, Virgil thinks, mind whirling. God, to deal with all this at the age of ten?

“Sensates,” Virgil croaks. “We’re called sensates.”

His mother offers him a smile.

“I know,” she says. “Tell me about them.”

“One’s here,” Virgil says, and he looks at the big, tall, tattooed man. “I don’t think I got your name last time.”

The man walks from his plush apartment rug to sit on the hardwood floor.

“Patton Taumata,” he says with Virgil’s mouth, offering a bright smile to Virgil’s mother, sitting beside him. “Māori, New Zealander.”

And then Virgil feels what Patton does next—pull seems too strong a word, but it’s the closest he has.

Sitting across from him, looking vaguely disgruntled to find himself on the ground, yet still sitting at his desk in his home office.

“Janus Slange,” he says. “London.”

He slides out of Virgil’s body to find a spot to sit that’s a bit more refined.

Patton turns his head, and Virgil turns his gaze to follow.

“Roman Regio,” the actor says, looking up from his script to gesture beside him. “And my brother, Remus. Who is currently on his way to Mexico City, which he should have done as soon as he got accused.”

“This is such a dumb plan,” Remus groans, resting his head simultaneously against the bus window and Virgil’s bed. “I want all of you batshit hallucinations to know that I don’t come up with plans this stupid. My plans are refined in the way they cause utter chaos.”

Sitting in his bed in the barracks and beside Virgil, so close their thighs almost touch, giving Virgil a thrill that shoots all the way to his fingertips—

“Logan Zieliński,” he says to Virgil’s mother, careful to sound respectful. “I was just here. I’m Polish, but I’m currently studying in Antarctica. Space research.”

They’re here. All of them here. But Virgil sees Patton reach again—

EMILE

—and Emile beams at the sight before him. Patton turns to grin at him.

“Well done!” Emile says, filled to bursting with pride.

Patton! Reliably being able to pull them all in to visit together! That kind of skill—coupled with the fact that Patton, back in his apartment in Auckland, is peaceably planning lessons with a sitcom in the background—can take other sensates months of practice to truly achieve.

“Is this your mother?” He asks Virgil.

Virgil says, “Um, Mom, my—cluster parent?”

Emile makes an eh handwavey gesture followed by a thumbs-up. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m comfortable with!”

“—is here right now. His name’s—”

He speaks at the same time as Emile does.

“Dr. Emile Picani, hi there—!”

“—and he’s American.”

Virgil’s mother’s brow wrinkles in distaste, but she does a good show of trying to hide it.

“That’s fair,” Emile says. “Americans are—well, y’know. You’ve seen the news.”

“This is my mother, Dr. Andisiwe Nkosi. My grandmother was a sensate too, apparently.”

“Oh, that’s lovely!” Emile exclaims. “There are sensates within biological families, of course—” he gestures to Roman and Remus, “—but things are still up in the air about if and how being homo sensorium passes down.”

“Dot said the number of sensates is rising due to epigenetic factors,” Logan says.

“Oh, you’ve met Dot!” Emile says delightedly.

“She answered many of the questions I have,” Logan says, and for a blip, they’re all sitting in the barracks in Antarctica as Logan reaches for a notebook and pen. “But I still have many questions.”

“Entirely understandable,” Emile says.

“Wait, you got your questions answered?” Roman demands, and they’re all sitting on Roman’s apartment’s massive balcony overlooking Mexico City. “I just got this one—” he points accusingly at Janus, “telling me hey, surprise, you’re not actually losing your shit!”

Janus shrugs, and they’re all surrounded by monitors, blinking with so many different points of data it makes Emile a little dizzy. “He just showed up in the mirror while I was shaving.”

“Well,” Emile says, and they’re all in Emile’s apartment at home. Emile puts a kettle on the stove. “I’m here now. So what questions can I help you answer? Or, at least, activate the Archipelago to get some kind of answer for you. If you can think of some kind of subject, there’s probably a sensate that knows something about it, but I suppose we should probably start with the sensate-specific questions.”

Remus puts up a hand and asks, loudly, “Can I use the psychic connection with other sensates to have some kind of insane worldwide orgy?”

ROMAN

Sasha is out for a key art photoshoot, so Roman has the whole apartment to himself. Which is good, because he got a bit busy last night with the whole explanation of what exactly it is that’s been happening to him, and then yelling in disgust when Remus asked gross questions about it.

Roman’s considering if he wants to paint his nails—it’s not like he can keep it, if solely for movie continuity—just to have something to do with his hands when the door cracks open.

And in steps Remus—absolutely filthy, staring at Roman incredulously, a fake mustache plastered above his real mustache that he immediately rips off.

“It worked,” Roman says gleefully. “It worked!”

“First of all, cops ain’t shit, I probably should have expected literally every police officer to sleep on the job when seeing someone suspicious board a bus, but Jesus fuckin’ Christ, your security munches ass,” Remus declares, “They let a murderer get into your apartment.”

Roman bursts out laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Remus says, pulling off the fake beard he’d donned. “It took five pesos of stolen fake beard and mustache to fool everyone, are you fucking kidding me—?!”

Roman slides off the couch, gripping his stomach, he’s laughing so hard.

“What?!” Remus demands, throwing off the overly large trench coat he’d been huddling under.

“You,” Roman wheezes, then, “you said the plan was stupid and it wouldn’t work—!”

“It is stupid! I come up with way better plans than this, you’re telling me that you came up with the stupid kid movie plan and I didn’t?! And it shouldn’t have worked—Roman, stop laughing, your fangirls are fucking batshit crazy, could you imagine what kind of weird Wattpad shit they’d get up to if they knew how easy it was to break in here?!”

Roman is screaming with laughter, because literally all they needed was a fake mustache and beard, and ooh Roman can tell that Remus is pissed that Roman came up with this plan first because it’s such a perfectly Remus plan. He isn’t sure how much of it is a sensate thing versus a twin brother thing, but all the same, Roman knows that Remus is absolutely fuming, which makes it even funnier.

Remus storms off, shouting, “Just for this, I’m going to use up all your fancy shampoo! I’m going to take the biggest, nastiest shit in your bathroom! I’m—I’m going to eat all your soap! I will! I’ll do it! I’m eating all your soap!”

LOGAN

It’s still a little startling to look over at his notebook and suddenly find himself in South Africa, but he’s gotten a little more accustomed to it since the night before. He’s been feeling a pull to South Africa all day, like an ache deep in his chest. He isn’t entirely sure why.

Virgil glances over at him and smiles, just a little. Logan smiles back. Virgil clears his throat and returns his attention to the textbook before him.

“Roman’s plan worked,” he says.

Logan huffs, shaking his head. Honestly. It’s like those American movies when three children stack on top of each other and wear a large trenchcoat and a fake beard to gain access to the movies, but it actually worked.

In retrospect, Logan’s sure that Remus would have foregone his escape into the wilderness if he’d known that donning a disguise and having his rich brother pay away the arrest troubles and their psychically connected lawyer argue before the court would have worked so neatly.

However, considering that nearly every aspect of that plan is absolutely off the rails ridiculous, the escape into the wilderness must have seemed like a prudent measure to take at the time.

“How’s your research?” Logan asks, sitting down on Virgil’s bed.

“Pretty good,” Virgil says, his tone very casual. “I think the fact that abrus precatorius—”

“The scientific name for rosary peas,” Logan assumes. He is rewarded by a nod from Virgil.

“—isn’t native to Mexico and the fact that Remus hasn’t traveled for years on end is a pretty good basis for Janus to go on. Plus, abrin—”

“The toxin?” Logan clarifies and receives a nod.

“—is incredibly toxic, to the point where anyone ordering rosary peas would probably get pinged under some kind of monitoring system. So there wouldn’t really be a way for Remus himself to get them. Miguel Contreras, on the other hand—”

“The murder victim?” Logan says, startled.

“Yes—on the other hand, he went to Florida very recently. He got back three days before his death, in fact.”

“I thought they were native to Asia and Australia?”

“Yeah, they are, but rosary peas are an invasive species, and they’ve been clocked in the pine rocklands there,” Virgil says. “Symptoms usually occur pretty quick, but it can take up to five days to show up, depending on the method of ingestion. And considering the seed of just one pea could be fatal…”

“Then the cause of death could very well be found in Florida!” Logan says. “And the only thing they have on Remus—”

“—Are threats, exactly,” Virgil says enthusiastically. “And considering the way Remus is as a person, Janus could probably get those hand-waved away as being under jest, rather than an actual threat to kill him.”

They smile at each other again, Virgil’s lips twisting wryly.

“I’ve been wanting to visit you all day,” he says abruptly, and Logan feels that flutter in his stomach again, the one he’s been feeling since they first met; he’s willing to admit to himself that it most certainly isn’t unease, now. It is a near antonym of unease.

“I have too,” Logan admits, trying his very best to keep his voice informal.

Virgil’s smile softens, a little. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Logan affirms, and the flutter in his stomach intensifies.

They stare at each other. Virgil’s eyes, Logan notices abruptly, are objectively beautiful. Framed by long lashes, his eyes are so dark a shade of brown they’re practically black, so easy to stare at, admiring the way a sudden shift in the lighting would illuminate the subtle honeyed depths of them.

For a moment, Logan gets a flicker; he’s looking at his own eyes, blue and framed by his glasses, but the emotion in him doesn’t change, the fleeting thought of look how gorgeous, and suddenly he is back to looking at Virgil, and, as one, they look away.

Virgil coughs awkwardly. “This sensate thing—weird, huh?”

For the first time, Logan wonders if the feeling in his stomach is not entirely his own. If it is something shared.

But, Logan thinks, sneaking a look at Virgil taking notes, twirling his pen idly over the backs of his long fingers, he supposes that neither of them would be able to tell that, anyways.

REMUS

Remus is bouncing his leg so much that the cop near him is giving him a disdainful look.

Or maybe the look is because the cop thinks he’s a murderer. Whatever.

“Are you sure this is gonna work,” Remus mutters out of the corner of his mouth because he hasn’t gotten the hang of visiting someone in his cluster and going about day-to-day life like a normal person, the way more experienced sensates can.

“Positive,” Janus says. He’s sitting crossed-legged beside Remus in his holding cell, where they’re waiting to be transported to the courtroom. Remus is pretty sure most lawyers shouldn’t turn up to court in pajamas, but considering that to the rest of the courtroom Remus is going to play at being his own lawyer, it’s all fine.

“All they have on you is proximity and threats,” Janus continues. “And considering the voice in your novels, along with the parts in your dust jackets’ where you literally threaten your readers, I can get that set aside no problem.”

Remus inhales heavily and exhales just as noisily.

“Right,” he says. “Right.”

Roman flickers into sight just long enough to shoot Remus a thumbs up, and as Janus resumes spitting legal jargon, Remus feels his shoulders relax.

PATTON

“Be careful with our bezzie Buzzy Bee!” Patton says brightly. He’s crouched before Sophie, having helped untangle the string. “Let’s make sure we don’t tangle him up again, eh?”

“I will, Mr. T!” Sophie shouts, already on the run with the toy, and Patton huffs ruefully. It’ll probably be tangled up again by the end of the day.

A brief chill across his skin, and Patton shivers before he refocuses on the sunny afternoon, here, in Auckland.

By the time he’s stood upright, Logan’s beside him, in a white lab coat.

“Do you really need that much air conditioning down there?” Patton says. “Seems a bit overkill, mate.”

Logan shrugs, closing a door, hiding away some kind of equipment that looks very finicky and complex. “I’m not the one in charge of the facility.”

“Fair enough,” Patton says. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be asked to join in on some kind of game, soon. You like rugby?”

“It’s not exactly popular in Poland.”

“Hm. Guess not,” Patton says. “Probably should’ve known that already.”

“The whole sharing knowledge aspect of this does seem to be rather dependent on a variety of factors,” Logan says thoughtfully. “I don’t think I automatically know the minutiae of New Zealand history and culture just because you might; I think we have to be doing something to trigger that sharing of knowledge.”

Patton huhs thoughtfully.

“If you didn’t know how to drive a car, for instance,” Logan theorizes, “and I did, and you sat behind a wheel and needed to drive somewhere, I would probably be able to impart that knowledge to you.”

“I can ask Emile,” Patton says, ready to turn and look in on Florida, but he’s stopped by Logan’s frustrated, “how do you do that?”

“Hm?” Patton says, turning to look at him.

“This seems to come so effortlessly to you,” Logan says. “You drop in and seem totally at ease, you could control if we all came to see Virgil a couple nights ago, and by the reactions of those around you, you don’t seem to be talking to thin air—”

“Well, we’re mostly, surrounded by five-year-olds, they wouldn’t be too phased by the concept of me having an imaginary friend,” Patton points out. Logan doesn’t seem particularly amused by this.

“I don’t know,” Patton admits. “Emile thought I was just very communicative, for a sensate. That might be it; I’ve always been pretty chatty. It also might be because Māori have beliefs about how we are all connected—people, nature, all living things—so maybe I was a little more prepared to accept that I was literally connected to other people because I grew up with that as a sacred ideal.”

They watch children run and play for a few minutes; Manaia, diving to catch a football in the game of rugby that had assembled; Sophie, racing between everyone with her Buzzy Bee clack-clack-clacking behind her; Oliver, shyly joining in on a game of hopscotch.

The grass sways in the light breeze, the sun had peeked out from behind its clouds, leaving the entire playground awash in light and warmth. The laughter of children carries on the wind. Patton’s coworkers occasionally look up from their tiny charges to smile and wish him a good day.

“It’s really rather nice here,” Logan says quietly. “I’ve never been remotely near this continent. Coming to research in Antarctica is the most travel I’ve ever really done.”

“Do you miss home?” Patton asks.

Logan considers this.

“Some things,” he says. “Kluski, makowiec, honey mead. Newspapers written in my native language. The coffee shop I studied in throughout all of university. Proper herbata góralska. My mentors. The ability to go to a grocery store. My mother.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“But I love the research I do here,” Logan says firmly. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be able to study down here.”

“It sure seems like it,” Patton says, his admiration clear in his voice.

“This whole situation threw a bit of a wrench in the works,” he says.

“I think it did for all of us,” Patton says. “Not all bad, though. Remus would probably still be on the run if he hadn’t connected with Janus.”

“No,” Logan muses, a soft flush touching his cheeks. “Certainly not all bad.”

Unbidden, images flash in his mind; black coffee, an expanse of wide sunny road, the sensation of dirt under his fingernails, purple jacaranda blossoms.

Patton tries his hardest not to grin. But—

“What,” Logan says defensively.

“Nothing,” Patton says, not hiding his smile, and Logan huffs irritably.

“You know,” Patton says, “Emile’s been dating someone in-cluster for, like, nine years? They were the first people that they saw, of the people in-cluster. In-cluster relationships are apparently pretty common, which I guess makes sense. Sharing feelings, knowledge, everything—it sure can bond two people together.”

Logan’s flush deepens.

“Just sayin’,” Patton offers cheerfully, and he goes off to join a game of hopscotch, leaving Logan with his thoughts.

JANUS

The language is different. The procedure is different. The situation is, most definitely, different.

He’s used to English, English law, English crimes. He’s been a barrister for years, jumping from one firm to another because the latter had seen partner potential in him; it paid much better, too, which certainly hadn’t been a negative. Janus had become a well-polished lawyer, a viper in the courtroom, a boomslang to his rivals.

He’s good at it, is his point. He’s always been good at it.

He stands, surveying the judge. A different uniform, but a similar dime-a-dozen judge. He’s seen this type dozens of times. He could debate them in his sleep.

But as he looks to the side—Remus sitting, Roman beside him, the rest of the cluster in a line past them, just peeks of their profiles past the twins—he remembers why he started to study law, too.

Because he wanted to be able to get himself and his brother out of any and every sticky situation they could ever stumble into.

Janus stands when he is bid to. He takes the oath, Remus’s mother language tripping off his tongue like it’s his own. It is now, Janus supposes.

Roman reaches over and grips Remus’s hand. Remus pinches Roman as hard as he possibly can, but Roman doesn’t flinch.

Janus begins smoothly, “Your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the court...”

#my fic #my fanfic

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roger-that-cap · 4 years ago

Text

once upon a december

knight!steve x reader (sort of an anastasia au type thing!)

word count: 4.09k!

warnings: i think swearing! but other than that this is good for everyone!

did not check her for errors, sorry!

part two!

You rode for about fifteen minutes at medium speed on the huge horse that felt like seconds to you by the time you were coming into town. The way the horse stopped startled you, because just as fast as he started his trot, it felt natural to you. It would have brought you all the way to sleep, if your mind hadn’t been so wary about who was right in front of you.

“This is our stop,” he muttered, getting off of his horse and turning to you, and you reached your hand out to be helped down, landing softly on your feet. “You good?”

“I am, thank you.” You said out of politeness, and he nodded. You looked at where his eyes were looking as he tied his horse to the tree, and you immediately recognized it as a bar. “A bar?”

Those were forbidden back at the orphanage. You had been told that only low people went there, people with no class. As far as you were concerned, orphans were the lower class. You couldn’t get lower than that in the kingdom. Right above you were the common bargoers, you believed.

“There a problem with that?”

“I don’t speak to drunk men.” You surely didn’t. You had learned from others that men who were drunk wanted one of two things at all times, and that was to start a fight or to make children. At first, you had faith in the men that people talked so down on. But you learned. Like all other women, you learned. “If he wants to speak to me, he’ll have to come outside.”

“It’s cold,” James said, giving you a face.

You weren’t going in a room full of rowdy people. You much rather preferred hushed, passionate conversations and whispers. It was just… better. “If he’s a good man, he won’t make me go in there.”

“What does him being a man have to do with that?”

“Men are nasty,” you said boldly, and he gave you a slightly amused, slightly agitated look. “And they’re all in there,” you said, grimacing when you heard boisterous laughter. “If you want a good seamstress, you’ll bring him out here to talk.”

“Where are you from?” He asked out of nowhere, and you were both shocked at his blatant attitude and relieved by it.

“Why?”

“You don’t sound like you’re from around here.” He per his horse twice before looking back at you. “So, where are you from?”

You took a deep breath and then exhaled, watching it leave your body with an intense curiosity before you answered his question. “Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know?”

A slow smile spread across his face, and then he was grinning, a shallow but true grin. And then, he shook his head once. “No.” He turned around and walked straight into the bar.

You had no idea what to do. Were you supposed to stand there and wait, possibly even freeze? Or was that a sign for you to follow him or go on your own way? You had already tried to be on your own, and that didn’t work well at all. Maybe you were a team player before you were an orphan.

You stood with your arms wrapped around your body, swishing back and forth and bending your knees every so often, locking eyes with the horse every now and again before finally turning away from the bar and throwing your head up, giving out a groan.

“Hey,” you tilted your head back down. “Buck tells me you’re a seamstress for cheap.” You turned around and faced the direction where the sound of boots slapping snow came from, and immediately you were stunned.

A blonde man, even taller than his brunette companion, was standing there, his steps long stuttered at the sight of you. You could see his blue eyes clearly even through the flurries of snow that were still coming down. You frowned subconsciously, something about the sight of him tugging at your mind.

He took a few steps closer, and you stayed put. You could have sworn that his head was going to pop right out of his neck when he pushed it forward, trying to get a good look at your face. He was close enough where you could see the looks of surprise, confusion, and anger morph into one. His jaw slacked, and as quiet as the wind, he said one word. “Alexandra?”

Just like that, your enchantment with the second grown man that you had seen during your journey dropped. You shook your head at him. “Who’s Alexandra?”

His slight joy dropped, plummeted so far that you couldn’t have caught it even if you tried. “Who are you?” He questioned harshly.

“Y/N,” you said cautiously, narrowing your eyes on him. “I make clothes. You said you needed help,” you said, and you looked towards the hole in his pants and how they were shorter than what they needed to be, and you also caught sight of a huge hole under his arm. You gave him a look. “And it seems to me that you do need help, so don’t be so hostile.”

“Buck, who-”

“I found her. She sprained her ankle.”

The blonde man had you on the receiving end of a harsh look and then yanked his friend to the side, seemingly for a private conversation that wasn’t so private because of how loud he was, and how good your hearing was.

You could tune into nearly anything, and tune out of nearly anything. It was the perk of being the oldest for most of your time at the orphanage. Some kids were fighting while another needed some help, and you couldn’t listen to both. And so, you adapted.

“This- who is she? Who is that, Bucky?” Bucky? His name was Bucky and not James?

“She says she’s-”

“I know, but she sews, too?” The man’s voice was quiet. “She- she looks like an older version of Alexandra.”

“I know.”

Whoever this “Alexandra” girl was, the blond man was not happy about you resembling her. It was all over his face and in his body language. “So, why did you bring her here?”

“He brought me here because your pants are too small,” you chimed in, and they jumped. “What? I have good hearing. What can I say?”

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

“Guess my parents never taught me that,” you joked, knowing that they wouldn’t get it. “I can fix your clothes. I just need money, and quiet. All the whispering freaks me out, and I can hear it.”

“Who are you really?”

“I’m Y/N, I’m an orphan, and I’m a seamstress in training.”

“You’ve never worked in a shop?”

“W-well, no, but I- I know how to sew,” you said, getting tripped up on your words the second he started to ask you about what you could do. “In fact, I did all of my clothes myself.”

He looked you up and down. “How did you learn?”

You had a feeling that I always just knew wasn’t going to be enough for the blond man, especially because he already didn’t like you. “I… it’s a natural talent.”

“Ha!” His laugh was more of an exclamation than anything as he looked up to the sky and shook his head. “When will I be done paying for the past?”

You made a face at him and waited for his dramatics to subside, tapping your foot in the snow despite your utter freezing. “So, are you going to give me your pants to work on…?”

“What’s your rate, girl?”

“Don’t call me that.” You retorted. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Sir Steven,” he answered, and you saw James give him a look. “What pay do you want?”

“Enough to get a train ticket to Auren.” They both looked at you strangely, and it was for long enough that you took a step back and crossed your arms over your chest. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Why are you going there?” James asked carefully, almost as if he was walking on the thinnest sheet of ice over a lake that he was standing in the middle of. You didn’t like it.

“Because I want to.” You didn’t even consider trying to explain to them about the pull you felt. They looked rich. They looked like they had never experienced loss before. You hadn’t met many knighted men, but you felt like they were too pretty to have seen much at all. “So, if you can’t trade me some new clothes for a ticket, then, I’ll find someone else.”

“We were actually heading that way.”

“That way?” You asked, a brow cocked. “You mean to get there by horse?”

“It’s no more than a three week ride from here, if we’re fast.” James explained, looking to his partner, who was still staring holes in your face. “The trail is already made.”

You knew what he was insinuating. Was it wise to agree to it? Probably not, and at the same time, it may save you money and time. It would take you a long time to work up what you needed for a ticket, but if they were offering to let you ride with them if you fixed their clothes every so often, that could be it. On the back of a horse could be the way you got to Auren, away from the snow, away from everything you’ve conditioned yourself to know again.

“Are you offering for me to come with you?” The huge, blond man looked horrified.

“If you’re comfortable with riding,” he said, ignoring the lethal look that “Steven” gave him. “We mess up our clothes a lot, we could use someone who knows how to fix them. How fast are you?”

“Very.” And you were. You were quick and accurate, and you only got quicker with every passing month.

“I’m sorry-” the glowering man gave you a fake smile and turned around to his friend. “We need to talk.” He pulled him off to the side, way too far for you to hear, and sighed and shook your head.

“Hey, horse.” You muttered, petting him a few times. “Do me a favor, would you?” There was no verbal answer, of course. “If you think I should go with them, stomp your foot twice.

You didn’t even need for him to stomp his huge feet for you to know what you were doing. The men seemed more honorable than the ones you were warned about, and for some reason, you knew that you could trust them more, even if the blond one was angry. The time it would take for you to earn the money would be past three weeks, and in three weeks, you could potentially already be in Auren. It made no sense for you to not take the deal, so you decided that you would make sense.

Minutes later, a red faced Steve and a frustrated James came back over, only to find you talking sweet to James’ grey horse.

“What do you need to sew?” James asked, hands on his hips, near his sword though you knew that he wasn’t going to be using it. “Supplies?”

You tried not to smile. “I have everything but cloth and string that matches the colors of your clothing, really.”

“We don’t care much for looks,” Steve muttered and turned to his own horse, giving you his back. “Just do what you do, and we’ll pay you.”

“We’ll pay you and,” the brunet added, giving his friend a dirty look. “You can ride with us, but you’ll have to share horses with someone.”

“You,” you said automatically, making Steve turn his head your way. “You seem to be the one most on board with me coming, so… you. Please.”

“Fine by me,” He said, shrugging. “We should get you out of the cold and set up camp.”

You nodded, and your shoes crunched on the snow as you walked forward. Right before you hoisted yourself up on Bucky’s horse, you heard the other man call out at you. “Don’t try it if you can’t do it yourself-” you interrupted him by effortlessly swinging onto the horse, scooting back to give the man enough room for when he got up himself.

“You ever rode a horse before?”

Not to my knowledge. “No.”

Steve gave you a long look, scrutinizing and breaching into the rude factor. He nodded his head after the lengthy stare and then looked towards Bucky. “We riding out?”

“She’s going to freeze if we don’t set something up, and a fire, too.” You agreed with that mentally. Bucky hoisted himself up and then tapped his horse quite lovingly before the both of you started on a trot, your legs trembling against the backs of his from the freezing cold.

§§

You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep until you felt yourself hit the ground. Not a sound came out of you as you roused yourself from your sleep, blinking slowly as you registered the cold, and the sound of shouting.

“Shit!” You felt yourself being picked up by the arms and you sighed, feeling your wet clothes get even more damp. Your shoes were as good as gone. Your shirt was barely salvageable and your pants were probably better off if you took them off. “Are you-”

You were traded off into another set of arms, and you nearly flinched when warm hands touched your neck. “Is she alive?”

“Yeah, but we need a fire. Now.”

You shook your head and opened your eyes, blinking once you saw the night sky above you being halfway blocked by Steve’s face while he peered down at you, that same suspicious and questioning look that he had before on his face again. You raised your arms up and put your hands together, rubbing them to get some friction going, and hopefully some heat. You were cold, and hardly awake.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you stood up on your own, reaching for the bag on your back and pulling it in front of your eyes, your hands digging for something.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, his tone annoyed. “Take it easy.”

You ignored him easily as you took out the thick quilt that you made that was folded up and nearly done. You grunted when you realized that you never quite finished it, and then you pulled out your scissors. Your hands shook as you found where you left off and realized that cutting and tying would do nothing but ruin it.

“Are you seriously trying to knit right now?” Steve asked, irritation leaking into his question as Bucky worked on starting a fire not too far away, diligently blowing and running stones against each other.

“Gotta finish,” you mumbled, and then you shook your hands out.

“Just put it on, worry about finishing later-” he was cut off by your hands working rapidly, threading the thick material through your largest needle at what was almost your top speed, never missing once. He stared down at your hands and your face as your concentration never broke. You finished the last line, grabbed scissors, and ended it before you wrapped it around yourself. “How… I thought you said you were never taught.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Fire’s ready,” Bucky called, and you stumbled during your first two steps only to fall forward and be caught by Steve, who made an exasperated sound. “Don’t put the blanket in the fire, Y/N.”

You were freezing. You were tired. You had just finished a knitting project that you assumed would take you much longer than you thought. And you had a feeling that everything you were feeling was going to be a constant thing on the journey that you had barely begun.

The morning after you felt better, and the sun hitting your skin made you glow like a golden flower. You were back to the slightly bubbly attitude you naturally had, waving to Bucky when you woke up and saw him still on watch, immediately starting to knit something.

“Those socks?” He asked I’m a raspy voice after watching you for a few minutes, and you nodded.

“I’m making a few pairs for all of us.”

“How much material do you have?” He looked at your bag, and you laughed. It seemed small, but you lived confined all your life. You knew how to compress things to make them fit, and you knew that to anyone else, your bag probably seemed like a magic trick.

“A lot,” You mused, looking to the side as Steve woke from his sleep at the sound of your voice. “All my life’s savings have gone to material to sew, fabrics of all kinds.”

“Why didn’t you save to get a train ticket?” He asked softly, almost like he knew that he probably shouldn’t have asked.

Your fingers stopped moving as quickly as you thought, your movements much slower, slow enough for them to see what you were doing with them. “I could live without making it to Auren, I suppose,” you replied just as soft, looking back down to your hands. “But… sewing? No. I couldn’t live without doing that.”

“You love it that much?”

Your expression of nonchalance turned into muted confusion when he asked that. Did you love sewing? You weren’t sure. You weren’t sure if you loved it or if you knew it, and those were two different things. It was your way of life that you would never abandon, but did that mean that you loved it? “I… I know it, I think.” You dropped your arms onto your lap. “It’s the only thing I have, I guess.” You had sewing and dancing, the kind that all the commoners learned to do.

Steve frowned, too. “Have from when?”

A small scowl formed on your face, the same one that you hid from the younger kids when they pressed on for you to remember something that you clearly didn’t. You wiped it off of your face and just gave a shrug. “I don’t know. But it’s the only thing I have in this world that is mine, so I’ll keep it.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, giving Steve a look when he saw that the ever persistent man was about to keep pressing. “Do you think you can sew and ride at the same time?”

“Probably,” you answered.

Steve stood up. “Then let’s get it moving.”

You had been given Steve’s pants to work on while you rode, and you started with the hole first. You found a fabric that matched the color relatively closely and went with it, finished within forty minutes. You couldn’t do much about the length other than estimate how much longer he needed them, and your guess was two and a half inches or so.

By the time you were almost done with the first leg, you looked at the sun and realized that you were going in the wrong direction. “Uh…” you started softly, and you felt Bucky tense up. “Where- this isn’t the direction we’re supposed to be headed.”

“We have to make a short detour, pick up a friend.”

“How far is your friend?”

“Shouldn’t be more than twenty leagues from here,” Bucky answered, his strong voice louder than the cutting wind. “He’s good people.”

“Does he live where cloth is available?”

“I thought you spent all your money?” Steve asked from beside you, his eyes watching your every move, like they had been the whole time.

“I did,” you confirmed, and you smiled when he looked confused. “I can basically talk my way into getting anything,” you said, and you watched him roll his eyes. “Except for someone to adopt me, I guess.”

You felt Bucky’s snort more than you heard it, and Steve had a look on his face that said that he didn’t know if he was allowed to laugh at the joke or not, but you shrugged. “Is that one of your talents?”

“What?”

“Sweet talking.”

You made a face. It had been something that came slower, like a memory that was in the part of your brain that was much less quicker than the rest. It was the reason some didn’t ever warm up to you at the orphanage, especially the adults. They called you charming, they said that the combination of your smart tongue and your “accent”, whatever it was, was telling a different story than the one you remembered.

“If I hadn’t seen you being brought in by that man myself, I would have called Marta a liar. You’re no orphan. You- you were something else. Someone else.” The Warden’s words haunted your mind every so often.

“It’s something I think I might have known how to do before.”

“Before what?” Steve asked, and you breathed in through your nose, ignoring the sting of the cold air.

“Before I lost my memory.” The world froze there. “I woke up in the snow, someone brought me to the orphanage, and I don’t remember anything before that.”

“What do you mean, you don’t remember?”

“It means that I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t even think Y/N is my real name. I didn’t remember what it was, so I picked it. I knew how to read, and I saw it in a book, so I took it.”

“Holy… when were you put into the orphanage?”

“I was… I think I was fifteen or sixteen. It’s hard to say, no one could tell my age without giving me an exam and I said no to that one,” you chuckled, but neither man was laughing. You hadn’t even realized that you stopped riding, and that Steve had turned his horse so that he was looking at you head on without having to turn his body.

“You don’t know who you are?”

“I know who I am,” you said, getting a little defensive. Even though

“You just said that you didn’t remember what happened to you through the first sixteen years of your life, that’s a huge chunk of time.”

“Well, I know who I am now.” Steve frowned deeply. “I’m Y/N, I like to knit, and I’m good at talking. That’s it. That’s all you need to know. That’s all I know.”

“Have you tried to find something out?”

“What do you think going to Auren is about?” You quizzed, feeling oddly satisfied when that shut him up. “I think someone’s there.”

“Who?”

“Someone who knew me,” you said.

“How do you know that they’re there?”

“I just have a feeling,” you said, your voice slightly whimsical as you thought about being reunited with people who cared about you, the people you had guilty lost recollection of. “And I also have nothing to lose.”

“None of us do,” Steve said, and then he snapped the reins on his horse and began trotting forwards.

“Steve, Buck!” You had fallen asleep and woken up to the enthusiastic shouting of a man. “That was much faster than expected.” You wiped your face with your hand and straightened your posture, attempting to stop your teeth from chattering like they previously were. “Do you have someone- oh, Holy Hera.”

A man with nearly the same look of shock that you had was looking at you, eyes wide. You would have assumed that what he felt was terror, if his lips weren’t slowly curling up into a smile. The world stood still again as you both analyzed each other, him with much more confusion and enthusiasm than you.

“Alexandra!” He nearly shouted, and he bent his body downwards, into a deep kneeling position. You tilted your head to the side, so confused by his sign of respect that you didn’t see the looks of panic on the other men’s faces. “I always-”

“Y/N.” Steve said sharply, interrupting him and catching all three of you by surprise because of his hostility. “Her name is Y/N.” He was the first to climb off of his horse, and he gave the man a pat on the back before entering the house like he had been a thousand times and lacked the need for invitation.

“Who is Alexandra?” You asked again, upset at being mistaken for someone for the second time.

“She’s um, she’s no one.” Bucky said, shooting his friend a look. “This is Sir Sam Wilson. He’s a great man, very honorable.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Sir.” You responded, helping yourself off of the horse and ignoring the icy air that surrounded Steve’s sharp actions.

You saw him look at your quilt, and then at the bag that had needles dangerously poking out. “You sew?”

“I do,” you responded, and he smiled. “I think I’m hired to be their seamstress and accompany them to Auren.”

“You have interest in going to Auren?”

“Yes,” you answered, drawing out the last letter to make it sound like less of a short answer. You smiled at him and moved to get off of the horse, ignoring the way that he rushed forward, hands outstretched to help you down. You swung both of your legs around and hopped right off without problems, prompting for the knight to give you an impressed look.

“You’ve ridden before?”

You knew you looked like you couldn’t even afford a bucket to put the horse food in, and that was why he was asking. It didn’t bother you at all, because the assumption was painfully true. “Actually, before I met them,” you nodded towards Bucky and Steve’s horse, “never.”

“Never?” He echoed. “Even the noblewomen request help from getting down off of their horses. I’ve helped probably every noblewoman who ever stepped foot in the palace walls by horse, besides- yes,” he cut himself off, brushing his hands on his pants and nodding sharply, like he had just remembered something. “Well, I’m sure you’re starving and in need of warmth. I think Steve has already seen himself to the food.”

Sam was right. There were already bowls out, and Steve had filled them with soup and was waiting for everyone else to start eating, even though he looked like he was using all of his strength to do it. His hands were hidden under the table and his leg was bouncing up and down as he stared at his bowl, hunger evident in his expression.

“What have you been eating?”

“We’ve only come across rabbits and squirrels,” Steve muttered, clutching his spoon.

“It’s been an unfortunate season,” Bucky added, giving Sam a look. “And you know that Steve doesn’t operate on an empty stomach.”

“Oh, do I,” He said, a grin on his face as he said it. “Help yourself, Y/N! Don’t be shy.”

“If you insist, Sir.”

“So polite,” he teased, and you cracked a smile. “Where are you from?”

You almost grimaced. “A small town, a ways away from here. Yakir.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s not very fun, nothing much to do.” That was the grossest understatement ever. There was quite literally nothing to do, and even if there was something to do there, you were restricted by the operators at the orphanage. “Except for learning manners, I suppose.”

That gained you a smile, and you took your own spoon, first putting it on the other side of your bowl before eating, and folding the napkin out on your lap, crossing your legs and sitting up straight in your chair, leaning over slightly to blow on the soup that you picked up with your spoon.

“This is very good, thank you for making it,” you said after having a bit of it, and you were being honest. It was good, even though you were sure that anything would have tasted good at that moment.

“You’re welcome,” Sam dragged out, eyeing you oddly as you ate the soup in your bowl, which put the attention on you at the table.

“Um…” you trailed off, trying to get at least one of them to explain why they were staring at you like you grew a head and cut it off and then went back to business.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Bucky assured, and he picked up his own spoon and waved it around, making a big show of starting to eat and hoping that the others would do the same. You raised your brows and then put your lips together before parting them again to drink from the spoon, figuring that whatever weird exchange that was, was going to eventually be explained.

You finished first, and you felt weird about it. Your stomach was full, though, so you watched the fire crackling in Sam’s fireplace with a far off look in your eyes as you thought about Lucas, and what he could be doing.

Did he miss you already like you missed him? Did his young mind offer to spare him some pain by forgetting you were ever there? You almost preferred it to be that way, because you knew that the kid didn’t sleep without you feet away from him. He didn’t eat if you didn’t, he didn’t go outside if you weren’t watching him. You prayed that he wouldn’t remember you.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

The words that came from Steve took you right out of your mind as you kept your eyes on the burning fire, a small smile gracing your face as you thought about him again. “Nothing.”

****

hey junebugs!! how are y’all? this is entirely self indulgent at this point- and i love this! can’t wait to do more with this steve! we’re gonna build a relationship here with this miniseries, no love at first sight this time! i don’t think anyone’s vibing with this rn but i at least hope y’all liked it! if you did like it, please drop a like or reblog or a comment! i loveee comments omg

#marvel fanfic #knight!sam wilson #knight!bucky barnes #knight!steve rogers #steve fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel au #anastasia au

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goodlucktai · 4 years ago

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it’s a better place since you came along

the adventure zone taako & angus mcdonald 7k words

read on ao3

“So, you must be here about the job,” the old man goes on. “To tell you the truth, I’d just about given up on finding a decent nanny. When can you start?”

Taako stares at him. There’s an alarm klaxon blaring in the back of his brain, along with a shrill inner voice advising him to “abort, motherfucker, abort!”

***

In which Taako answers a general “help wanted” ad that actually changes his entire stupid life.

There’s a baby crying somewhere.

Taako, left waiting in the foyer by a harried maid, has nothing else to do but tap a foot, twist one of the rings on one of his fingers, and count the long seconds that the plaintive wail continues to echo through the cavernous house.

Listen, he may not be a very good dude, just in general, and for a healthy plethora of reasons—but there’s a prickling sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach, as one minute passes into two, and the sounds of distress go unheeded.

What in the fresh fuck, he thinks, when another member of the house staff drifts through the room without any sense of urgency. If he knew shit about magic beyond a few travel-handy tricks and the occasional intuitive transmutation, he’d assume this was some sort of elaborate illusion. Maybe a sort of test played on unsuspecting hopefuls who came to answer the help-wanted ad.

Unfortunately for Taako, he remembers all-too well what it feels like to be an unwanted child, outcast and always alone. As it turns out, he has a very particular Achilles’ heel and he’s not overly thrilled to discover it.

“Well, I didn’t need the job that bad,” he tells himself, as he gets up to single-mindedly fail this stupid test. And nevermind that he kind of really did.

‘Confidence is key’ and ‘fake it till you make it’ are two mantras that Taako could live and die by, so it’s with long, unchecked strides that he crosses the grand foyer and chases the miserable cries up some stairs, down a long corridor, and finally into an out-of-the-way bedchamber at what must have been the back of the house.

The cries stutter when the door clicks open, and Taako gets a glimpse of a tiny round face peering at him through the bars of an ancient-looking crib. The sudden appearance of this strange elf in his nursery seems to have surprised the little human, but not for long. After about two seconds, he screws his face up and screams with renewed vindication.

Taako winces, his sensitive ears twitching back at the onslaught. This is way above his paygrade, but he used to babysit younger kids in the caravans while their parents were busy or drunk, in exchange for a hot meal or a few coins. He’s not totally out of his depth here.

“Hey, little man,” he says by way of hello. “Trying to bring the roof down, huh? No, I dig that. I wasn’t gonna say anything, but this house of yours is ugly as hell.”

Taako doesn’t raise his voice, because what the hell would be the point? There’s no way he’s winning that contest of wills, and nobody wants some lunatic shouting at them when they’re this fucking distraught, anyway. He just crosses his arms on the side of the crib and leans down to get a good look at the kid.

The baby’s face is tacky and snotty, dusky skin flushed darker with exertion, curly hair a tangled mop. But he’s a cute little guy despite himself, probably a year old or thereabouts, not that Taako is in any way a decent judge of that sort of thing. As Taako talks to him in a conversational tone, his awful, heaving sobs peter out.

The tearful gulps are better. The way he lifts pudgy arms up to be held, not so much.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Taako says, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. “I’m not even supposed to be in here. You have no idea how culturally insensitive people are when it comes to elves and babies. Your mama walks in and sees me holding you, and then she’s calling the guard, and I’m getting hauled off for attempting to spirit her little heir away, and we both perpetuate an archaic myth that all elves are equally capable of and greedy for voluntary childcare. Let me just say—from personal experience—that is not the fuckin' case.”

But he reaches a hand into the crib and lets the little human clutch at it. Tiny, clumsy fingers wrap around Taako’s much bigger ones and hold tight. The baby’s eyes are wide and curious now, soaking up Taako’s every word without a damn clue what any of them mean.

Taako almost forgot he knew how to do this. It’s been months since Glamour Springs, since Sazed ditched him on the road. Taako’s been living a half-life, made up of odd jobs and never staying for too long in any one place, and for all that it’s absurdly one-sided, this is the longest conversation he’s had since then, too.

“One of us is pretty fucking pathetic,” he confides. “And it’s not the screamy baby.”

“Ah, this is where you’ve gone,” a voice from the doorway says.

Taako jumps in alarm, and looks around in time to watch a man step into the nursery. He bears a striking resemblance to the baby in the crib, though he’s graying at the temples and his face is lined with too much age for him to be an immediate parent. Grandparent, probably. Distinguished, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than the entire cumulative worth of everything Taako currently owns, leaning heavily on a walking cane.

He doesn’t look as though he’s about to ring the alarm, but Taako is still a little keyed up. Given the way he’s been living, the feeling of getting caught, even for a moment, activates his fight or flight response.

“Sorry,” Taako says lamely. “I heard him crying.”

“I don’t doubt it. His parents, my daughter and her husband, died recently. An accident on the road,” the man says. There’s some sorrow there, but it’s pushed back and away. Compartmentalized. “He came to live with me, but the transition hasn’t been an easy one. It seems as though all he’s done is cry.”

Taako doesn’t melt even slightly for the poor kid, because he’s made of sterner stuff than that. But he does let him hold onto his hand for a little while longer. It’s not hurting anything.

“So, you must be here about the job,” the old man goes on. “To tell you the truth, I’d just about given up on finding a decent nanny. When can you start?”

Taako stares at him. There’s an alarm klaxon blaring in the back of his brain, along with a shrill inner voice advising him to “abort, motherfucker, abort!”

It wasn’t a nanny ad. It was just a ‘general help wanted in exchange for room and board’ type of deal. He wouldn’t have shown up to take the job in the first place if it had specified providing 1) cooking, 2) companionship, or 3) childcare, and that’s for damn sure. He believes in playing to his strengths, and while vapid charm is certainly one of them, being personable and likable for any extended period of time is not.

And Taako absolutely doesn’t know what to think of this old rich guy who seems to be operating under the illusion that thirty seconds is plenty of time to get enough of a read on some rando to then trust your child to them. For real, and from the bottom of Taako's heart, what the fuck?

He’s only been acquainted with this particular child for about five minutes, but his ears go back and his hackles go up at the idea of someone just walking in off the street to take charge of him.

Maybe there’s some crucial insanity element to parenthood that Taako just isn’t fucking picking up. Maybe total and complete willingness to just ditch your kid at a moment’s notice is part of the package. Sure would explain a few things about Taako’s childhood.

But… this old manor house is clearly in the middle of nowhere. Two hours from the nearest settlement, where the job posting was hiding beneath other flyers on the board in the square. Taako wandered the woods all afternoon and almost gave up finding the place before the chimney smoke tipped him off.

It’s remote. Safe. And, at a glance, more comfortable than any of the inns and caravans Taako has lived out of since his auntie died.

He’s not qualified for this position, but since when has that ever stopped him? It’s not like he went to culinary school, either, and for awhile he was one of the most famous chefs on the continent. A baby can't be that much work.

Fake it till you make it, he thinks, and then faces the old man with a smile.

“Hell, I’m already here. Might as well start now.”

Aside from Taako, there are three other members of staff on the books, and none of them are full-time. The maids come in every other day to do the cleaning and the laundry and bring in groceries, that sort of thing. The groundskeeper only works the weekends.

They like Mr McDonald well enough, the girls confide in Taako over tea on his first night there, and the pay isn’t bad, but he’s forgetful. Doesn’t think to eat until he feels hunger pains, that sort of thing. Don’t be surprised if you get paid twice some weeks, or not at all others.

“He’s just not interested in running a household, I think,” the older of the two imparts, ancient at seventeen for all the weariness in her eyes. “I’m glad he finally found someone to take care of the baby. I felt bad about him crying all the time.”

Baby Angus had seemed to surprise both teens by being agreeable and downright adorable, perfectly content to be tucked into the crook of Taako’s arm and soothed to sleep by the rumble of his voice.

Did any of you try, like, holding him? Taako wants to ask acidly. Seems a little fucked up that Taako, of all people, is more on top of this than anyone else. But the maids are little more than kids themselves, and it seems as though grandpa isn’t completely with it.

About a month after Taako first wandered in, grandpa proves it.

“It was before Angus was born,” Mr McDonald says, digging through the many drawers in his study, looking for some expensive rich person thing he’d acquired at auction four years ago. There’s an empty crystal tumbler sitting on the liquor cabinet, next to a half-empty decanter of whiskey. “We went to Goldcliff for a charity fundraiser. Marquis proposed to my daughter that night. You remember, Taako?”

Taako, halfheartedly poking through stuff on the desk while Angus chews on the end of his braid, replies, “Sure do, homie. Hell of a party.”

He finds a photo in a stack of letters and pauses. Two humans are pictured with their arms around each other, handsome smiles on their faces for the camera, a baby cradled tenderly between them.

At the bottom, in looping handwriting, someone wrote ‘Marquis, Angela, and Angus.’ There’s a little heart drawn under the names with such care that it, in itself, is something of a revelation.

Angus’ parents wouldn’t have let him cry himself sick in a faraway room. They wouldn’t have let some stranger be holding him now. They abandoned him, but not on purpose. Not the same way Taako’s family did.

This kid was loved. He’s due love. And all he has is an absent grandpa and a shitty elf looking after him.

“Check it out, Ango,” Taako says quietly, holding the photo up so the baby can see, carefully out of reach of those sticky fingers. “Your genes are killer. You’re gonna outshine the whole damn world.”

He pockets the photo with a sleight of hand he perfected at ten years old, and then guts some ugly painting in the service hallway in the name of repurposing the frame, and then he and Angus stage a tactical retreat.

The nursery was too depressing, just in general, so one of Taako’s first acts as nanny was to move all the baby stuff in with his. He had his pick of any of the second floor bedchambers, and he chose one overlooking the overgrown gardens, with a pretty bay window that it only took like two hours and a handful of stubborn Prestidigitations to scrub clean.

He enlarges the photo, slides it into the frame, transmutes it to look like a more professional job, and then sets it in place of pride on one of the empty shelves.

“Gang’s all here,” he says. He bounces Angus a few times, eliciting a toothy smile from the kid.

Lordy, Taako thinks, she’d be laughing her ass off if she could see me right now.

The thought comes out of absolutely nowhere and disappears just as quickly, sliding right out of his mind like water through a sieve. Then Angus makes a sudden dive to grab one of the charms hanging off the brim of Taako’s hat, and he has more immediate things to worry about.

Living in a house is weird. Having the run of the place is even weirder.

Taako is certainly not the type to sign up for extra responsibility, and he’d be the first to say as much to literally anyone who asked. Keeping himself alive has always been trouble enough, and now he has a whole ass extra person he’s in charge of, too.

But as time drags on, he realizes he’s been pretty solidly assimilated.

When McDonald forgets to give Catherine the grocery allowance before he fucks off on one of his bi-monthly business trips to Neverwinter, Taako forks over his own gold without feeling the sting of it too badly. He practically writes his own checks around here, anyway. He can make up the difference whenever.

When crotchety old Boniface came in from the gardens looking for an answer about the freshly broken fountain, he bypasses McDonald’s closed office door entirely to demand guidance out of Taako instead. Taako is in the library, laying on his stomach to supervise Angus’ painstaking and artistic destruction of a probably priceless but unfortunately racist oral history Taako found on one of the shelves, and gives Boniface the go-ahead to gut the old eyesore.

“If it dies, it dies,” Taako says plainly, passing Angus a new red crayon. Boniface, pleased that he’s allowed to demolish something, makes it a point to ask Taako about these things first from then on.

When Ezra shows up in Taako’s suite one morning with tearful eyes and an ugly burn from the temperamental furnace in the basement, neither of them stop to question why she ran all the way up here. They’re both reasonably intelligent people, after all, and Taako is quick to cast a nonverbal Helping Hand. He doesn’t need to overthink it. The burned skin on Ezra’s arm is shiny and red, but repaired.

The girl surges forward to hug him, visibly rethinks it, and then changes course and scoops Angus up for a hug and a noisy kiss on the cheek instead. Angus shrieks in bald delight, and Taako finds himself smiling.

So, yeah. It’s weird, the whole thing is weird, but he wouldn’t say it’s bad.

McDonald is a kind but largely absent presence in their lives. When he’s home, he’s shut up in his study. Angus hardly seems to recognize the man anymore, only watching him with solemn brown eyes from the comforting circle of Taako’s arms. It doesn’t really sit well with Taako—he didn’t take this job to upstage any relatives or be a replacement parent—but he’s already nanny to a precocious two-year-old, he can’t also be nanny to a seventy-something-year-old retired scholar. If McDonald wants to be a part of Angus’ life, that’s on him. It can’t possibly fall on Taako’s shoulders.

“And even if it did, I have a bad back,” Taako informs Angus. “You’ll have to do the heavy-lifting for me, sweetpea. How’s that sound?”

“Okay, Taako,” Angus says gravely. If there’s a tiny part of Taako that’s fucking delighted every time this tiny miracle says his name, he squashes it down good and hard and no one is the wiser.

It feels a little bit like nothing exists outside this spacious manor house. The extensive grounds might as well be a magic barrier between Taako and the rest of the world. It won’t last—nothing good ever does—but for now he allows himself to pretend that it will.

Taako and his little shadow swing into the kitchen around noon one day to find Catherine in tears.

This is so far from the norm that Taako actually draws up short in the doorway. Angus toddles right into the back of his leg, loses his balance, and plops down hard on his padded bottom.

“What’s this all about, darling?” Taako asks warily.

Catherine is sharp in all the places Ezra is soft, and while it makes her much easier to understand—a girl after Taako’s own black, shriveled heart—it also makes her approximately one million times more difficult to comfort, as likely to bite at a helping hand as accept one.

At the first sign of her vicious temper, he’s gonna grab his kid and bail. There’s fruit and bread in the larder that’ll see them through to dinner, and if not, he's not above bribing Ezra to run interference.

But Catherine just lifts her head out of her hands and says, “I burnt the stupid soup!”

Taako blinks. He stands still so Angus can use one of his legs as leverage to pull himself back upright, and cups the back of the boy's head in silent praise when he manages it on his own.

“Okay,” Taako says slowly. He can piece this shit together. “The soup is burnt. And you’re cheesed about it because…you feel really strongly about soup.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she snaps, but it’s without any real heat. “I just. I can’t get anything right today.”

Ah. Okay. So it’s one of those.

He hesitates for a moment, and then leans down to scoop Angus up and balances him on a hip. Angus knows not to toddle into the kitchen unsupervised, and rarely gets to toddle in at all when there’s cookery going on.

Taako himself rarely goes in. It feels too much like tempting fate. But his feet carry him forward, and he leans over the pot of thick and creamy chicken and dumplings, and right away he can smell the problem. It caught on the bottom of the pot and scorched.

He’s never worked in this kitchen—and he never will—but he remembers the steps. It’s mise en place. He reaches into the spice cabinet and withdraws a small tin shaker.

“Cinnamon,” he says at length, offering the tin to Catherine.

She stares at him, losing some of her steel for a moment. “Really?”

“Really,” Taako says, and firmly steps back. The six-second exchange has left him feeling tense and sick, his appetite fully and completely fucking out of the picture.

Angus is a perceptive little monster, and settles more heavily into Taako’s arms. He heaves a very pointed sigh, something he started doing to communicate that he’s feeling particularly safe and content. It makes Taako’s chest hurt in a much different way than impending panic attacks tend to, and he presses a kiss to the kid’s curly head.

“Thanks, angel,” he says.

“You’re welcome.”

“Holy shit, Taako,” Catherine says, looking up from the soup with awe in her eyes. As he watches, she tries another spoonful, and then she actually laughs out loud. “It worked!”

He finds himself searching her face for—sickness. Shortness of breath. Something.

It’s stupid. The people he killed in Glamour Springs didn’t show signs of death for days.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” Catherine goes on. “Could you teach me?”

“I don’t,” Taako blurts. It comes out sharper than he meant for it to, sudden and a little bit too loud. Catherine’s smile tapers. Angus lifts his head off Taako’s shoulder. Breathe, idiot, Taako tells himself. Be a fucking person for two seconds. “Cook, I mean. I don’t cook. Or, uh, teach. I’m kind of useless. Pretty, though.”

He flips his hair. It makes Angus giggle, but Catherine isn’t an easily-amused toddler, and she’s not buying it.

Her eyes are sharp, and seem to peel through layers of Taako’s bullshit like a knife. And then she scoffs, and mimics his hair flip with her wrist even though her hair is only about two inches long, and the tension drains out of the room like someone pulled a plug in the floor.

“You’ve been teaching Mango to read,” she says dryly. “And Elvish. And magic. But okay, Mr I Don’t Teach.”

“He’s my fucking protege. That shit’s different!”

“Shit!” Angus agrees cheerfully.

“Whatever. Now that I know you’re secretly a fountain of knowledge, I’m dragging you in here the next time I fuck up a recipe.” She studies him for a moment, and adds, “You don’t have to cook, Teach. If it bothers you. I just…I need help sometimes.

Taako feels himself relenting. This house is turning him into a fucking pushover.

“I know, Cat,” he sighs. “Try to find one person who doesn’t.”

“Alright, little man,” Taako says, tugging Angus’ collar straight. “What are the rules?”

“Hold your hand, don’t talk to strangers, aim for the eyes if I can reach them, knees if I can’t,” his boy recites gravely.

Next to him, Ezra stifles a snort of laughter. Boniface, waiting by the loaded carriage, looks reluctantly amused. Catherine says, “Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to give you a kid?”

“Uh, your boss,” Taako says without looking at her. He stands up from his crouch as the front door closes, and they all turn as McDonald comes down the steps to join them in the crumbly courtyard.

“Are we ready, boys?” he asks with a smile. “Neverwinter is waiting.”

Honestly, Taako has been sick with dread over this trip for the past two weeks, but he wouldn’t know how to go about explaining that. And he sure as hell isn’t sending Angus off alone with his absent-minded grandfather. The kid probably wouldn’t make it home.

It’s not as though Taako has been sequestered in the manor house for the last five years. He’s ambled into the settlement with the girls now and then, has gone farther up the road to buy from caravans for Candlenights gifts, has let himself be bullied, cajoled, blackmailed and bribed into helping Boniface lug imported plants home from the train station.

But this is fucking Neverwinter. The Jewel of the North.

“Taako? You okay?” Angus says from somewhere near his elbow.

“Just dreading three hours on the road playing I, Spy with you, boychik,” he lies smoothly. “Go pet the horses so we can get that out of the way.”

Angus looks mulish for a moment, but he does insist on petting the carthorses before they take the carriage literally anywhere, so he lifts his head and crosses the courtyard with great dignity. Taako watches sharply until Boniface rolls his eyes so hard Taako can practically hear it and hefts Agnus up in one huge arm to better reach the giant creatures without running the risk of getting fucking trampled.

“I’m making the salmon at home tonight,” Catherine says abruptly, a non-sequitur that takes Taako by surprise. “If I don’t fuck it up, I’m gonna cook it here, too. So don’t be late, Teach.”

“I’ll a hundred percent eat your share if you’re late,” Ezra adds. Her smile looks a little strained.

Taako has not been subtle. He’s been freaking out right out loud where anybody could see it. Get it together, asshole, he coaches himself helpfully.

“Cat,” he says earnestly, “your salmon is literally the only thing I have to live for.”

She groans and pushes him away from her. Angus has finished with the horses and returns to Taako at a run, even though they’re all going to be walking back across the courtyard to the carriage in like one minute anyway.

McDonald is handing out a few last minute instructions. They’re mostly things that have already been taken care of, errands that have already been run, the ushe. The girls nod along politely, but there’s a level of uncertainty lingering above them like a cloud. They look as nervous about Taako leaving as Taako feels.

Now, Taako is many things—an elf, a failed chef, a murderer, a dime-store wizard, and one lucky nanny—but he is not some mercurial fairy tale creature. He’s not going to vanish from their lives the second they lose sight of him. He could if he wanted to, and he will if he has to, but he doesn’t want to. For now, he doesn’t have to.

So he lifts a hand and says, “Back soon.”

But for some reason, it fucking hurts.

The trip is about everything he expected it would be: long and boring. Angus gets bored with I, Spy within about ten minutes, the interior of the carriage is a little too tight to practice his cantrips, and Boniface seems to be aiming for the roughest parts of the road on purpose. Taako tries reading aloud from one of the Caleb Cleveland books, but McDonald keeps interrupting every time they get to the good, mysterious parts, so Angus and Taako trade a loaded glance and wordlessly agree to save it for later.

Still, it’s not awful. Angus at six years old is bright-eyed and relentlessly clever. He wants to be a detective like Caleb, and has taken to solving little mysteries around the manor house, like who left the jam out on the counter (Taako, and what are you going to do about it, pumpkin?) and who tracked the mud inside the undercroft (Boniface, obviously, that’s where all the booze is, and he literally works in mud all day. You didn’t have to put on your detective cap for that one).

Needless to say, Taako would burn the whole world down for this kid.

With no choice but to spend time in his grandson’s company, Taako can see Angus’ innate charm going to work on McDonald. There’s something wistful in the old man’s eyes, affectionate and more than a little bittersweet. He stops interrupting as Angus starts to describe his latest case in great detail—the mystery of the missing tarts!

The tarts are wrapped up and waiting in Taako’s bag for when they inevitably get snacky during the trip, but he's not going to tell. He kinda wants to see how far the kid takes this one.

By the time they board the train, Angus is tuckered out. The excitement of a trip so far from home is wearing off after hours in a carriage, and Taako ends up carrying him into their sleeper car and putting him to bed in one of the bunks.

McDonald takes a seat at the small table and watches without commentary as Taako extracts the boy’s hat and glasses and wand without waking him, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. And then, out of habit more than anything else, he murmurs the only Elven blessing he remembers, quite literally ‘sweet dreams.’ He remembers Auntie saying it to him, and…someone else, maybe? He remembers that it always made him feel loved to hear it.

“Hiring you was the best thing I could have done for him,” McDonald says suddenly.

Taako turns with a trademark smile on his face, only as charming as it needs to be. “Hiring me was the best thing you ever did, period.”

His boss smiles back, but there’s an edge to it that Taako can’t translate. This is the most present and aware he’s looked in the last five years. Taako isn’t sure he’s ever had this much of McDonald’s attention.

“There’s another reason I wanted to take the two of you with me this week,” he says.

It’s ominous as fuck, and as the train lurches into motion, pulling away from the station, Taako realizes that he’s effectively trapped here, in a way he never was at the manor house. Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because McDonald’s smile warms a bit, and he gestures at the other chair.

“It’s a good thing, son. No need to be nervous.”

Taako sits in an irreverent collapsing of limbs to prove that he isn’t nervous, actually. McDonald pulls a bunch of papers out of his briefcase and sets them on the table. They look official as fuck. McDonald’s signature at the bottom draws Taako’s eye—huh, so that’s his first name. After this long, it would have felt a little awkward to ask. Beneath that is the signature and seal of a notary.

“What am I looking at here, Charlie?”

McDonald’s lips twitch. He probably cottoned onto the name thing.

“Well, this isn’t an easy conversation to have, and I probably could have picked a better time for it, but.” He glances over Taako’s shoulder at where Angus is sleeping. “It’s probably better if the boy doesn’t overhear until it’s sorted.”

“I hear ya. That little bugbear is all up in everyone’s business all the time,” Taako says proudly. “Just the worst.”

“He’s amazing,” McDonald says. That sorrow swims into his eyes now, an ancient, ruinous thing. “He reminds me of my daughter every time I look at him.” Oh. “It’s been…hard to look at him sometimes.” Oh.

Taako carefully reevaluates his opinion of Angus’ absent grandfather. Not too much, because the dude still should have been around, but, you know. Some.

Taako tries to imagine losing somebody, how much it must hurt. He tries to imagine looking like somebody, a family resemblance, a belonging at face-value. He’s never experienced either, but there’s still a bitter pit in his throat, a feeling like if he swallows too hard he’ll start to cry. So he sits very still instead.

“But still, he’s my only grandson, and I want him to be taken care of when I’m gone,” the man goes on. “I’m getting on in years, and I probably don’t have much longer left—oh, Taako. It’s alright.”

Taako is certain he didn’t move. He’s still doing the sitting-very-still thing. Then he realizes his ears betrayed him, pressed back flat against his head. Goddamn things.

“No, it’s uh. Taako’s good, don’t. Just.”

It’s the human age thing. He doesn’t want to think about it. He waves McDonald on, a tight rolling gesture. They really need to power through the rest of this conversation while Taako still has enough self-control left to not do something really embarrassing in front of his boss, like have a whole emotion.

McDonald takes pity. Thank fuck.

“It’s normal to want to get your ducks in a row,” he says. “I’m not planning on kicking the bucket any time soon.”

“Alright, let’s organize these ducks,” Taako says with unwarranted enthusiasm. He’s trying to trick himself into it. “Fucking ducks, am I right?”

“Angus is my heir. When he’s of age, he’ll get the estate and everything that goes with it, as well as his parents’ properties,” McDonald says, once again reminding Taako that he’s a rich old fuck. Istus. “But that’s still more than a decade away. If something should happen to me, I don’t want him to end up a ward of the state.”

Taako blinks. In the back of his mind, he realizes that he has become one of those elves that would one-thousand-percent kidnap a human baby if it came down to it. Leave Agnes in an orphanage? His Agnes? It would literally have never occurred to him.

“Custody cases can be so long-winded. The easiest way to circumvent the whole mess would be to adopt you into the family,” McDonald says, super nonchalant about flipping the world upside down. “That way Angus has an immediate next of kin that no one would question.”

He looks up when Taako doesn’t say anything and frowns at whatever Taako’s face must look like.

“You don’t have to use the surname if you don’t want to. It’s mostly just for the sake of paperwork.”

“I can’t,” Taako blurts.

“Of course. I wouldn’t insist that you change your family name if it’s important to you—”

“Not—not that, who gives a fuck about my family name,” Taako says too loudly. Angus shifts around for a second, like he might wake up, and Taako snaps his mouth closed so hard it hurts his teeth. In a whisper, because it’s all he can manage without giving into the urge to scream, Taako forces out, “I—I’m—I can’t.”

In the nightmare scenarios that still sometimes plague him in the middle of the night, when everyone else is asleep and he’s alone with the voice in his brain that fucking hates him, the choices always boiled down to either leaving Angus behind or taking him on the run. Both choices were fucking awful for a myriad of different reasons, and left Taako pacing his room tirelessly trying to think his way out of an unsolvable problem.

The idea that he could become a legal part of Angus’ family as simply as signing a piece of paper is so far-fetched and ridiculous that he can’t wrap his mind around it.

But bringing all his shit into Angus’ life? Signing up for this only to get snatched away the second the paperwork goes through and the militia finally finds him? Leaving his dirty laundry all over the front yard like the worst fucking house guest imaginable, and then peacing out to spend the rest of his long-ass fucking elf life in jail, while Angus was left to just…deal with that?

He couldn’t. He can’t. Every single option is bad. He shouldn’t have stayed. He should have known he would fall in love with that baby on day one. It’s really fucking stupid that he stayed.

“—aako. Taako.”

Taako jerks his head up. His ears are twitching and his hands are shaking and McDonald has probably been saying his name for awhile.

The man’s eyes are bright and steely. They look exactly like Angus’ do sometimes, when he wakes Taako up from a miserable meditation, when it’s just the two of them in a huge house surrounded by a crumbling garden.

“Tell me,” the man says sternly.

At a fucking complete loss, Taako just…does.

When he’s finished, McDonald looks at him really hard for what feels like a long time. Then he pulls a pair of reading glasses out of an inner pocket of his coat, poises the business end of a fountain pen against a fresh sheet of paper, and starts asking questions.

It’s a business-like, no-nonsense exchange. Taako is wiped out, emotionally he is the equivalent of a damp rag wrung out to dry, and he has no wherewithal left to lie or deny or deflect.

When they’re done, McDonald has filled three notebook pages of blocky handwriting, and Taako is swaying in his seat. He watches somewhat vacantly as McDonald nods to himself and rummages in his briefcase for a stone of farspeech.

“We won’t reach Neverwinter until morning. Get some sleep,” he says, and his voice is kindly again, the way it was before. Taako stares at him. “And don’t tell me elves don’t need it, please. I wasn’t born yesterday, and you nap twice as much as my grandson ever did.”

Well, it would be nice to get one last unnecessary snooze in as a free man, Taako supposes, and he doesn’t hesitate to climb into Angus’ bunk. It’s a familiar ritual. The kid squirms to accommodate him without fully waking. Taako tucks an arm around him and buries his nose in that riot of curly hair.

He hears McDonald say, “You’re not much more than a kid yourself, are you?” but that might have just been part of a dream.

He hears someone else say, “That can’t be broken or lost or taken away, it’s always going to be so important,” but Taako thinks that, whoever that was, they were very clearly wrong.

Taako wakes up to a six-year-old’s warm brown eyes. They’re crinkled at the corners in an urchin sort of way, and it’s the only tell Taako needs. His kid has been up to some mischief.

“Grandpa said you were tired and I should let you sleep,” Angus reports cheerfully. “He also said that there was a nice lady selling flowers a few cars down, and I ought to go buy a few!”

Ah. Taako glances down at the ruin of his hair. It looks like about a hundred snowberry blossoms were worked into the thick flaxen braid. It’s going to be an absolute pain to brush out later. He’ll probably find bits of plant in his hair for days. He loves it.

He risks a glance in McDonald’s direction.

The man looks amused by their whole general existence, which is fair. He also doesn't look like he's about to summon the guard to have Taako hauled into the brig, which is a fucking relief and a half.

“The world changed while you were asleep,” he says significantly. “Would you like to sign the papers now or with your pardon?”

Angus says, all in one breath, “You should sign the papers first! Grandpa says then you’ll be my family! I mean, you already are, so I’m not sure what the point is, but it must be important. Look at how official they are!”

Taako feels about four cups of coffee behind this conversation. He scoots off the bed, spilling into one of the chairs at the table, and folds his hands.

“Charlie. Buddy.”

“I stepped out for two minutes,” McDonald says defensively, “and I thought he was asleep!”

“That’s the oldest trick in the book,” Taako mutters. His heart is doing something really complicated and largely unnecessary, fucking backflipping in his chest, at Angus’ thoughtless ‘you already are.’ Like it was a given. What the fuck. “Can you go back to, uh—the world changing? A pardon? What’s up with that?”

“An old friend of mine is a cleric,” he says pushing a steaming cup in Taako’s direction. “Level nine, or thereabouts. She owed me a favor from when we were in school together, when I—well, that’s not important. What is important is that she was happy to cast Discern Location to find your old stage manager.”

Taako fumbles the cup, almost drops it. He sets it down hard.

“What the fuck? No, hold that thought. Angus, I love you. Get lost.”

He’s really banking on the kid being more stir-crazy than curious, and sure enough, Angus hops right off the bunk and sprints for the door.

“Okay, I’ll be in the dining car! You’re not s’posed to take food back with you, but I’m gonna see how many pastries I can fit in my pockets so you won’t be hungry when you sign the papers that make you my family! Love you, bye!”

“A three-hour carriage ride followed by six hours on a train was the worst fucking idea,” Taako says severely. “He’s gonna be on eleven when we roll up to Neverwinter. They might not let us in.”

“He’s just excited,” the old man says, with the tranquility of someone who isn’t going to have to child-wrangle all day long. “I told him I had good news for you.”

Taako is fidgeting, turning the cup of coffee around and around in his hands. It’s leaving a ring of condensation on the table.

“You found Sazed?” he asks, and hates how small his voice sounds.

“We did.”

“He probably hates me,” Taako mutters. “I ruined his life.”

McDonald takes the cup from him and sets it down on the other side of the table with a firm clunk.

“Pardon my language, but you didn’t ruin crud.” Taako mouths ‘crud’ in bewilderment, but McDonald isn’t finished. “I was suspicious of your story when you described the way those people died. Those aren’t the typical symptoms of deadly nightshade, and I’d never heard of a transmutation spell failing in that way before. So I looked into it. Or, I should say, I had a few friends look into it.”

“Are you in a cult?” Taako asks. He can’t help it. He’s one part genuinely curious and two parts hardwired to deflect any time someone tricks him into having a serious conversation. “We frown on cults in this family. Mysterious shadow organizations are never a good thing, no matter what greater-good shit they’re peddling.”

“I’m very rich and belong to very elite social circles,” McDonald says dryly. He’s unmoved by Taako’s general everything. “This whole thing took about three calls. I wish you would have told me about this five years ago, but I do understand why you didn’t.”

Taako doesn’t have a cup to fuck around with anymore. He stopped wearing jewelry when Angus was a baby and literally everything smaller than an apple was a choking hazard, and he never really got into the habit of it again, so he doesn’t have rings to twist around his fingers, either. He wrings his hands instead.

“If it wasn’t the elderberries,” he chokes out, and doesn’t make it any farther.

“It was arsenic,” McDonald says. His voice is kind again, but not so much so that it’s painful to hear. “Sazed was questioned within a Zone of Truth. He admitted to—okay,” he cuts himself off, putting a hand on Taako’s shoulder. “We’re done talking about it for now. Just take it easy.”

Taako doesn’t uncurl from his chair until the door rattles open and Angus’ voice fills the room. He’s found a dozen things to talk about in the ten minutes he’s been gone, and is very proud of himself for all the contraband pastries he managed to make off with. There’s a cheese danish wrapped very carefully in a napkin, only slightly squished, that he presents to Taako with a showy flourish that he really only could have picked up from too much time around one particular idiot.

Taako accepts the danish, and then hauls Angus up onto his lap, and then says, “Charlie, baby. Pass me that fancy pen.”

For the first time in almost eight years, Taako is cooking for an audience again. His hands are shaking, but as long as everyone else is politely pretending like they don’t notice, he can do himself the same favor.

I fed those people their death, but it wasn’t on me, he recites inwardly for the seven millionth time, a nervous mantra. My magic was good. My cooking was good. I was good. It wasn’t on me.

He looks up from the counter where all his tools are laid out and his ingredients are arranged. Ezra is bouncing in her seat, Boniface is lingering in the doorway like he doesn’t care but he also isn’t leaving, and Catherine’s eyes are wide and moonlike and younger than Taako has ever seen them. Angus has place of pride, a seat on the counter by the sink with the best view in the house.

“Okay,” he says. “What are the rules, pumpkin?”

“No swiping ingredients, no magic in the kitchen, and no taste-testing until you say it’s okay,” Angus rattles off promptly. “Autographs at the end of the show are three gold apiece, photos are ten, and the overall experience is absolutely priceless.”

Over the sweet sound of the rest of his audience groaning at him, Taako goes on blithely, “And what are we cooking today?”

“Macarons!”

“And who’s your dude?” Taako asks, pointing a whisk at him. Angus giggles, and Taako’s hands aren’t shaking anymore.

In a month, Angus is going off to a summer camp out past Rockport. It’s Caleb Cleveland-themed, and the whole thing sounds extremely nerdy and book-cluby, and Angus is desperately excited. He’s also desperately nervous about being away from his family for three whole weeks but he’s trying to keep that on the down-low. He’s very grown up at nearly ten years old.

Taako can respect that. He also bought the kid a stone of farspeech, because actually fuck that.

And while Angus is off having his first away-from-home adventure—since the girls think that Taako’s just going to be useless and mopey the whole time, and Boniface already threatened to bury him in a flowerbed the first time he whines about literally anything—Taako is going to go do something cool, too. There’s always some interesting jobs posted on Craig's List up in Neverwinter. He’ll be able to find something to occupy his time.

But for now, he’s gonna make some goddamn desserts.

“Come on, Ango,” Taako wheedles, “who’s your dude?”

“You, papa.”

I’m good, Taako reminds himself. He looks at his kid, who only deserves the best this piece of shit world has to offer, and thinks, I can be good.

#the adventure zone #taz balance #taako taaco #angus mcdonald #taz fic #my writing #better place #ladies i dunno but i gotta work in like 3 hours and i wrote this instead of sleeping

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petersasteria · 4 years ago

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Younger (I) - Holland!Reader

Back at it again with a theme

Inspired by: Younger by Ruel

The prequel of this will be coming out soon x

Holland!Reader Masterlist || TH Masterlist || HH Masterlist

Rich kid AU

* * * *

"Deep in my heart I know that it's over Deleted your number, so I can't call you Call you my brother, the way that we used to When we were younger, younger"

Grief does a lot of things to a person. It also hits different for everyone depending on who died and depending on how close these people were to the one who met their untimely demise. In this case, the Holland family were the most affected with grief. The Holland children's grandfather died and they were terribly heartbroken. But the most heartbroken one of all was Nikki and Dominic Holland's only daughter, Y/N.

Y/N was close to her grandfather only because she was the only daughter and because of that, she was the favorite. Her brothers didn't mind, though. However, it did bother Sam and Harry only because they were triplets.

Y/N had been living in Paris for quite some time now, four years to be precise, and she hasn't been in contact with her siblings since she left London to follow the man she loved; truly loved. She hated the way she left her situation with her siblings, most especially Tom.

"Timmy, are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Y/N asked the love of her life. Timmy was a tall and lanky lad who had beautiful curls and beautiful green eyes.

Timmy gave her a soft smile and lightly nodded his head, "I'm sure. Y/N, your brothers hate me with a passion. You haven't spoken to them for four years. I think you should go there to grieve and make things right with your brothers. If you can't do it for yourself, do it for your grandfather. I'm sure he would want that."

"Fine, I will." Y/N sighed. "I'll come back soon, okay?"

Timmy only nodded and went back to his painting. They lived in a small apartment in Paris. It was the only one they could afford. Y/N could've bought a larger apartment for both of them, but she came to Paris with only little money in her pocket.

Timmy was a painter and he sold his paintings to anyone who commissioned him. He has been saving up for Paris ever since he was little. Y/N supported him all the time, especially when Timmy hasn't been getting commissioned. Whenever that happened, Timmy took up painting jobs. If he were lucky, sometimes a rich client would hire him to paint a nursery or the master's bedroom and then he'd be paid a generous amount.

Y/N got a job at a bakery and it helped pay the bills. It wasn't the life Y/N pictured for herself, but this was better and more real and more down to earth. She preferred waking up next to the man she loved rather than waking up to a rich man who was betrothed to her all for business purposes.

A few days later, Y/N left Paris to go to London just in time for the funeral. Y/N may not be in touch with her siblings, but she was in touch with her mother. After all, a mother could not bare to not speak to their child. Nikki was the one who told Y/N about her grandfather's passing. It was a heartbreaking call for both of them; Y/N was heartbroken when she was told the bad news and Nikki was heartbroken when she told Y/N and when she heard her daughter's cries. Nikki wished nothing but to hold her and tell her that everything will be okay, but she couldn't.

All eyes were on Y/N when she arrived in the funeral. Her parents were the first to hug her tightly with Paddy following. He missed his older sister dearly. Y/N cried when she saw her youngest brother and their parents left them alone to have a moment.

"You've grown so much!" Y/N cried as she pulled away to get a good look at the youngest Holland. Paddy smiled, "Yeah, it's been four years. I'm twenty now."

Y/N wiped her tears away, "I can't believe I missed so much, but I'm here now."

"Does that mean you'll stay for good?" Paddy asked. He was hopeful. His sister was his anchor and she knew him better than anyone else.

Y/N frowned and shook her head, "I'm sorry."

"Of course, she won't stay. Don't be so surprised, Paddy. It's not like she actually stayed last time." A voice interrupted. The pair turned their head to see Tom who was bitterly looking at Y/N, up and down.

"Hello, Thomas." Y/N said politely. "I've missed you."

"Well, I haven't." Tom said bitterly. His words were venomous. "You left, remember? You had no intention on coming back and I've accepted that already and it's time for Paddy to accept that too."

"But Tom-" Paddy said. Tom quickly turned to him and shook his head, "Paddy, you shouldn't have this wishful thinking of Y/N coming back. She's only here for the funeral and then she'll leave again to go back to her poor lover."

Paddy shut his mouth and walked away. Tom's words hurt his feelings and he didn't want to say anything he'd regret, so he decided to be the bigger person and left.

"We could've had everything, Y/N. You're so selfish!" Tom spat and crossed his arms. Y/N didn't say anything as she stood there in front of her older brother.

"Sam, would you look at that. It's our triplet." Harry said when he approached Y/N with Sam. "Hello, Y/N. I hope Paris has been treating you good."

"Hello, Harry. Yes, it's been treating me good. I work at a bakery." Y/N said proudly.

"Bakery?" Sam chortled. "Linda worked at a bakery before she became our maid. Besides, you don't even know how to bake. Last time I checked, you nearly burnt the kitchen down."

"I learned, Sam. I learned." Y/N said. "I know working at a bakery isn't what I'm supposed to be doing, but it's honest work and it kind of pays well."

"Pays well? What, your boyfriend can't pay for you?" Harry joked.

"Harry, what do you expect? Timmy's poor. He could never give Y/N a wonderful life like our parents pictured her to have." Tom rolled his eyes.

"It's not the life I pictured either." Y/N told them. Tom opened his mouth to talk but he got cut off by Y/N, "But it's a humble and simple life and I wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world. All of you would understand that if you're in love. Other things don't matter anymore because at the end of the day, it'll just be me and him in Paris as we start a life together. That's the dream, isn't it?"

Harry looked down and Sam dismissed it, "Maybe you're right, but maybe you're wrong. Maybe that's your dream. Don't generalize it. Let's go, Harry. It's clear that Tom and Y/N need to speak with each other." Just like that, Sam left.

Harry stayed put and walked towards Y/N as he put a hand on her shoulder with a small smile on his face, "It's good to see you, though. Even if it's just for a while." Harry quickly left after that.

Tom looked at Y/N and said, "We'll talk after the ceremony." He left and Y/N sighed. The ceremony quickly started after that. The Holland patriarch said a few words followed by Y/N as said on one of the death wishes of grandpa Holland.

Y/N cleared her throat, "I, uh, I didn't know that I was going to speak up here so, I'll just talk from the heart." She made eye contact with her mother and Nikki just smiled and nodded for her to continue.

"Being the only daughter of my family, I was immediately the closest to my grandfather. Though, he would say that he loved us equally, everyone knew that he loved me most. I asked him about it one day and he told me, 'Your grandmother loves Tom, Sam, Harry, and Paddy. She loves you too, but she loves the boys more and we both know that's no secret. When one of the boys are in trouble with your parents, she'd be there for them. Y/N, I want to be the one who's there for you. Someone has to look out for the only girl and it would be an honor for me to be able to do that' ."

"And he did. He looked out for me when no one else would and our bond was pretty strong. He loved me when I thought no one else did. He was my shoulder to cry on and he was my hero. From taking out a spider from my room to helping me through my first heartbreak, he was there to save me. It's just sad because my number one hero is gone now and no one else will be there for me anymore. My brothers still have grandma and I'm left with no one." Y/N's breath hitched and she quickly covered it up.

"Grandpa was a loving man. He loved people and he saw the good in people even when they were mean. He taught me that life was too short to hate and I guess that's why he spent his whole life giving love and spreading love. I remember a lot of things that showed him being so loving."

"He loved my brother, Harry. He was his second favorite." Y/N chuckled lightly. "But when Harry used grandpa's credit card to buy something online, I thought he'd love Harry less." She and Harry made eye contact. Harry didn't know about that side of the story. Heck, he didn't even remember the story until Y/N mentioned it.

"But I was wrong. If anything, he loved Harry even more if that was possible. I asked him why and grandpa told me these wise words that I'll never forget. He said, 'Y/N, when you love someone, you love them with everything in your heart. Loving someone is sticking through the good times and loving them even more during the bad times because during the bad times, people need someone who love them unconditionally. When people feel bad about themselves, usually all they need is love'. I guess that's why he had it in his heart to just shrug off what Harry did because Harry felt bad about what he did."

"And as I stand here in front of all you, I want to tell you that from now on, I'll live the rest of my life like my grandfather; I want to give and spread love. I also want to say that I would like to have a man in my life like how grandpa was when he was still here and I'm confident to announce that I already found that man." Y/N smiled at the end. She looked at her grandfather's closed coffin and sighed, "I'll miss you, grandpa."

A few moments later, he was buried. Far from everyone, there stood Tom and Y/N. Y/N stared at her brother as he puffed out smoke from his mouth before taking another hit from the cancer on a stick.

"Since when did you start smoking?" She asked quietly. Tom glanced at her and shrugged. He threw the cigarette butt on the ground and stepped on it to put it out. "Since when did you care?" He asked.

"I've always cared. You're my brother and we'll always be related whether you like it or not." Y/N said as Tom nodded, "Let's talk. Where did we stop?"

"You told me I was selfish before Sam and Harry interrupted us." She reminded.

"Ahh, yes." Tom said and turned to face her. "You're selfish."

"How was I selfish?" Y/N asked.

"You should've just married him and then we would've made the deal." Tom sighed disappointingly.

"But I didn't love him and I still don't and I never will because I love Timmy. If you can't accept that, then fine. Timmy and I don't need validation from anyone especially from you." Y/N argued.

"I'm still the eldest, Y/N and anything I say, goes." Tom said sternly.

"Yeah and you're my brother." Y/N said as tears streamed down her face. "You were supposed to have my back just like I have yours. You're the selfish one, not me! Did I ever really matter to you, Tom?"

"Are you crazy? Of course you mattered to me! You're my baby sister and you always will be." Tom shrieked.

"If I mattered to you like you said you did, why are you so mad at me? Why are you so mad at Timmy, huh? He's done nothing wrong! He's a good guy and yes, he's struggling financially but I don't care. I don't care one bit and if I don't care, why do you?" Y/N sniffed and wiped her tears.

"Because I want what's best for you! For all we know, it's all just an act and he's only with you for money or sex. Haven't you ever thought of that?!" Tom raised his voice.

"No-"

"Well, tough luck because I have!" Tom shouted. "Since you met him, all I've been thinking about is your safety and if he's not using you!"

"Is that how low you think of Timmy?!" Y/N challenged. "Scratch that, is that how low you think of people who don't have the same lifestyle as you?! Because if it is, change it, Thomas. It's not good because believe it or not, not everyone in this world is after your fucking money!"

"Hey, that's enough!" Harry shouted as Sam and Paddy jogged towards them. "Mum told me to come get both of you because lunch will be served at home. But now that I'm here, I can see that both of you aren't ready to get your shit together so that we can have one decent family meal!" Harry yelled angrily. He was sick and tired of Tom being so bitter and shady all the time when Y/N was away.

"See what you've done, Y/N?! Our family's messed up because of you!" Tom spat.

"Don't go blaming this on her, twat!" Sam declared. "You're the one who can't let go of things!"

"Sam, may I remind you that I've arranged for her to marry so that we could have that partnership?! It would've made us more successful and wealthier! But she chose to follow that poor excuse of a man to Paris and she fucking stayed there! He probably doesn't even love her! He's probably in it for the money!" Tom's words were full of poison and venom. All the anger he had was now flowing non-stop. He had to take deep breaths as everyone stayed silent. The tension was thick.

"What if they're in love with each other?" Paddy interrupted. Tom scoffed, "Pads, that's preposterous!"

Paddy looked at the eldest Holland boy and nodded, "Ahh, you haven't thought about it, I see. If they're genuinely in love with each other and if they're not hurting anyone, there's nothing wrong with that."

"What do you fucking mean?" Tom questioned.

"I'm saying, Y/N's a grown woman. Just let her be. If she's happy with Timmy, then let her be happy." Paddy explained.

"She said that about Peter and where did that get her?" Tom fumed. "Absolutely nowhere! She said that she loved him and that she was so sure that she and Peter were destined to be together. And what happened next?"

"He left her for someone else." Sam interjected.

Tom pointed at Sam and said, "Exactly! He left her for someone else."

"Yeah, Peter did that." Paddy nodded. "But this is Timmy we're talking about. Peter and Timmy are different guys."

"Are you saying that we should just allow Y/N to do something she hasn't thoroughly thought of? She went and fucking followed him to Paris with no plan at all!" Tom argued.

"Not everything should be planned and thought of." Harry interrupted. He looked at Y/N and smiled a bit, "What she did was spontaneous and grandpa would love that because she did it for love."

"So, she should just forget our family, is that what you're saying?" Tom berated as he stared at his younger siblings.

Sam stared at Tom and shrugged, "You said that, not us. All we're saying is that we should just let her be. She's not a kid anymore. She can think for herself and if she thinks that being with Timmy in Paris is right for her, then she should follow it especially if it makes her happy."

Y/N's heart swelled at Sam's words. She didn't expect him to say that.

"We'll leave you two alone now." Sam said before walking away with Harry. Paddy looked between Tom and Y/N and sighed, "Fix this." Paddy left too.

Tom and Y/N stood in silence for a while until Tom started to talk, "I'm sorry."

She looked at him in shock. Tom has never really apologized before because of his pride, so this was a new experience for him. Tom squeezed his eyes shut as he inhaled the fresh air through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, "I don't usually say sorry, but here I am apologizing. Like I said earlier, I'm the eldest and by default, it's my job to look after all four of you and it'll be my job for the rest of my life until my last breath. So, excuse me for being really overprotective. You're our only sister. Mum and dad would kill me if anything happened to you because out of all four of you, I should pay attention to you most. That's why I'm always in your business. I want to make you're not making a stupid and big mistake because if you do make a stupid and big mistake without my knowledge, mum and dad wouldn't get mad at you. They'd be mad at me for not doing my job."

"I'm sorry I said that Timmy was a poor excuse of a man. That was below the belt. I just don't like Timmy for you." Tom confessed. "I know that's not a valid reason, but I'll try my best to get to know him, so that I can see why you like him so much. I just hope it's not too late and I know that I have so many to make up for, I just don't know where to begin."

Y/N stared at him before pulling him into a hug, "I meant what I said back there. I want to live the rest of my life like grandpa. So, I forgive you and for the record, you already began by saying sorry."

She pulled away and smiled at him, "Tom, I love you."

"You do?" Tom cried. "After all the harsh things I said?"

"You're my brother and my love for you will always be constant. I loved you before and I love you now. I also loved you during the those four years, I especially loved you then." She told him.

"I love you too, more than I love myself, actually." Tom smiled and wiped his tears.

"Good." Y/N chuckled. "So, lunch?"

Tom nodded, "Lunch. I'm starving."

The pair walked back to their family and they felt at ease knowing that everything will be alright now. Y/N forgave him a long time ago and now it was time for Tom to forgive himself just like how Y/N forgave him.

Grief does a lot of things to a person. Sometimes, grief can be a bridge to connect two people and replace the old bridge that was burned. Y/N may have lost her closest family member, but she gained back her relationship with Tom. After all, when one person leaves us, another one will arrive.

* * * *

I can't wait to write the prequel of this

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @poguesholland @superheroesaremytea @marshxx @buckys-little-hoe @harryismysunflower @itstaskeen @hollandsrecs @ilarbu @slytherin-chaser @quaksonhehe @lil-mellow-bunbun @turtoix @badreputationlove @swiftmind

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @sufwubi @abrielleholland @osterfieldnholland @purplepizza-summerrain @euphorichxlland @marshxx @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual (thanks for helping me sis uwu)

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shots #tom holland one shot #tom holland x holland!reader #harry holland #harry holland imagines #harry holland imagine #harry holland one shots #harry holland one shot #harry holland x holland!reader #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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uwua3 · 4 years ago

Text

drivers license.

🍁📸 fushimi omi

summary: omi receives his license and goes to the cemetery to celebrate

warnings: angst, anxiety, arguments, car crashes, driving, family trauma/issues, grieving/mourning, major character death/parental death

author’s note: if you are going through the loss of a loved one, please remember you will always have people in this world who support and love you endlessly ♡ you are not alone and you will make it through. i believe in you with all my heart—i cannot tell you it’s okay, but i can tell you it’ll get better. please keep trying, it’ll be worth it. i hope you wake up tomorrow with a lighter heart, i love you

this is not romantic! this is a headcanon i have of omi’s family history as he only lives with his father and two brothers (ＴｗＴ。) thank you!!!

word count: 2,619

music: drivers license – olivia rodrigo

I GOT MY DRIVER’S LICENSE LAST WEEK

JUST LIKE WE ALWAYS TALKED ABOUT

‘CAUSE YOU WERE SO EXCITED FOR ME

TO FINALLY DRIVE UP TO YOUR HOUSE

Omi was the first person to pass his driver’s license test in his family.

His father wasn’t getting any younger, so his hands were hesitant and shaky every time they hovered over the stick shift. The buttons out of the corners of his eyes were much too confusing for his old brain so Omi’s father insisted on walking everywhere. As he grew older, the Fushimi household reached a compromise of taking public transport during the weekdays.

Omi’s two younger brothers weren’t old enough. They were still in their early preteen years, so getting behind the wheel wasn’t a legal option. As the oldest son, Omi took it upon himself to get into a four-wheeler and figure out all the tricky mechanics for himself. Hours and hours passed borrowing his friend’s vehicle, spinning around in circles in abandoned parking lots, and studying road laws.

When Omi learned all by himself and paid for it with his own money, his father clapped his shoulder with his usual proud smile and congratulated him.

The leather beneath his father’s wrinkled hands suddenly felt like skin, as if he could see right through him. When Omi took a moment to take a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and could almost see a younger version of his father. A father that wouldn’t be so close to retirement, that wasn’t so fragile and slow.

What did his father see? Could he see Omi was still the little boy sitting in the backseat all those years ago?

“That’s my boy! You’re just like your—” Omi didn’t want to hear the rest of the sentence, so he hurried upstairs and left his father alone in the corridor. Sometimes, he regrets it. But, most times, Omi’s glad he didn’t stay.

Whenever Omi got into a car after that, he sometimes still heard it in his head.

Omi knew he was like his mother.

BUT TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

CRYING ‘CAUSE YOU WEREN’T AROUND

YEAH, TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

‘CAUSE HOW COULD I EVER LOVE SOMEONE ELSE?

The first thing Omi did after receiving his license was visit his mother.

The car wasn’t preferable by any means, but it did its job. The seat creaked every time Omi had to adjust it, the air freshner didn’t make anything better, and there was no possibility that the air conditioning worked. But, the windows rolled down all the way, the wheels rarely ran out of air, and the car door only jammed sometimes. At the red light, Omi shifted and heard the crease of his jacket.

Omi didn’t know why he still wore it. Those days were long past him now, but the aged material made this whole experience a little easier. Before Omi could let himself reminicse, the light turned green and Omi automatically pushed forward.

Check the rear-view mirror. Two hands on the wheels at all time. Eyes on the road. Pay attention to stop signs. Be aware of everything around you. Omi repeated this again and again until the GPS on his phone announced he reached his location. Parking carefully, Omi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding until everything stopped moving.

Picking up the small bouquet of flowers on the passenger’s seat, Omi locked his car and nodded at the security guard at the gates.

“Hi, Ma.” Omi said, pausing at a worn-down grave with the same flowers as last time.

“I got my driver’s license last week.”

AND I KNOW WE WEREN’T PERFECT

BUT I’VE NEVER FELT THIS WAY FOR ANYONE

AND I JUST CAN’T IMAGINE

HOW COULD YOU BE SO OKAY NOW THAT I’M GONE?

Omi sat besides her, leaning his head upon the cold grey stone. Like her tombstone, she was always strong, resilient, and offered a shoulder to cry on. Omi shuddered and wrapped an arm around the grave, as if she was still here.

“I did it.” Omi breathed and closed his eyes shut, hearing the distant rumbling of a thunderstorm. Even though Omi knew he should’ve left to get ahead of the rain, his legs were too weak. He couldn’t move without feeling like he was going to crash and burn.

“Ma... it was so hard.” Omi finally admitted to himself, squeezing the plastic of the bouquet in his hands and distracting himself with the crinkle. “Every time I sat in the driver’s side, I thought of you. I was... I’m so scared.”

Silence, before a clap of thunder. Omi flinched, hiding his face in the grey. “You were such a good driver, you followed every single rule. You should’ve been the one to teach me...”

Omi hated this feeling, like he was selfish for wanting his mother to be here with him. But, he knew he was right. Omi shouldn’t have had to suffer through panic attacks by himself. Make close calls with no one by his side. Balance school, work, family, and driving every single day. Omi could feel the exhaustion in his bones, as if he was the one who was dead.

“Pa couldn’t. Ever since...” Omi didn’t dare relive the tragedy. All he could bear was the inhumane screams, shattering glass, and alarms of the ambulance from miles away before snapping back to reality. “... the accident, he’s been so, so sad.”

It was an under-statement to say the Fushimi boys were struggling. Losing a parent didn’t hurt just emotionally, but financially as well. As Omi’s father picked up more shifts, more and more of that money went to medical bills that should’ve been years down the line.

“Your boys miss you so much. I miss you, so much. You would’ve been so proud... just like Pa. He said—” Omi’s voice cracked and he hated himself for it. Pulling the jacket tighter, Omi winced as the sudden gust of wind chilled his spine. The leaves rustled unceremoniously and Omi wished he could fly away, too.

“I’m just like you, Ma.” Placing the small flowers at the base of her grave, Omi read the faded engraving upon the surface until his vision was clearer.

Omi moved onto the next grave without a goodbye, because he’s had too many of those in this lifetime.

GUESS YOU DIDN’T MEAN WHAT YOU WROTE IN THAT SONG ABOUT ME

‘CAUSE YOU SAID FOREVER, NOW I DRIVE ALONE PAST YOUR STREET

After visiting his mother and Nachi, Omi returned to his car. It looked nothing like the car he almost died in. Back then, that car was big enough to hold a family of five snugly. Now, Omi’s car didn’t need all that room. His father would never get back into a car ever again, and his brothers could just sit in the back.

Resting his hand upon the car door, Omi didn’t have the heart to open it. Going inside meant driving home; driving home meant seeing his father flinch whenever the car pulled into the driveway. Driving home meant preparing dinner, making sure the boys did their homework, giving Pa his proper medications, doing homework, and barely sleeping. Going home meant being mom.

As the rain began to pour, Omi didn’t move. Soaked and unable to distinguish if he was crying or just stupid, Omi hung his head and let the water run over him. Was this his Ma’s way of crying for him? Omi didn’t want to know.

Omi finally yanked open the car door when a pair of glowing headlights passed by him. He nearly missed the splash of a puddle by his feet as Omi started the engine. Something was wrong. The usual ignition wasn’t audible and the lights barely illuminated the darkening path. Omi sat in the driver’s side with frustration that’s been growing ever since the car accident.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Omi swore, kicking the floor uselessly as he lifted his fist to hit the surface. Before he could slam his hand down, Omi sighed and simply hit the dashboard lightly at the last second. He had spent far too much money only to pay for repairs later on.

Omi pulled out his phone and checked, only to see no bars and no signal. Omi was cold, shivering, and crying in a cemetery and he had never felt more alone.

AND ALL MY FRIENDS ARE TIRED

OF HEARING HOW MUCH I MISS YOU, BUT

I KINDA FEEL SORRY FOR THEM

‘CAUSE THEY’LL NEVER KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO

Omi bought his first car after saving for months.

He honestly didn’t have to. Leaving behind the delinquent life meant making good friends. Friends that didn’t start fights, disobey the law, or be at risk of being put behind bars. Therefore, Omi had a friend that was willing to just give him a car.

“Come on, this is our gift to you. You don’t have to worry about this!” Omi’s friends insisted, trying to push the keys into Omi’s tight fists. No matter how much pressure was put upon him, Omi never faltered, just like stone.

“I’m sorry, but I... can’t take this.” Omi guiltily rejected the brand-new car. It was a model only rich people drove, the same exact demographic his friend was apart of. It was freshly washed with the proper tags and everything. Omi could’ve just taken it and saved thousands of dollars.

Except, he couldn’t. The car by no means was a vehicle he sat in before. But, the white color was the same. If Omi wasn’t paying attention, maybe he could ignore it. Yet every time he saw the exterior, it brought him back to that rainy day, desparately fumbling to rip off his seatbelt and wake his mother up.

“Omi... you can’t afford to say no...” They sympathetically tried to reason with him, but Omi was far gone. He backed up, nearly tripping with how hurriedly he stepped on his own heels. If he blinked, he could see the new car wrecked. If he didn’t focus, he could hear the sickening sound of the brakes failing.

“Omi, it’s been years since she—”

If he let himself get consumed by the past, he’d surely die.

“Thank you for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Omi bought a car a week later and when his father asked about price, Omi lied through his teeth.

“My friends saved up and bought me one for my birthday. Don’t worry, Pa. We can make the bills.”

Even when his friends sold it and tried to give him the money, Omi didn’t take it. His mother didn’t raise her son to take money from anyone.

Like mother, like son.

TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

AND PICTURED I WAS DRIVING HOME TO YOU

Omi left the windshield wipers on, watching as the rain drops got caught in the way. The heating wasn’t functioning, so Omi huddled in on himself and waited for some sort of sign that he could make it home tonight. The radio crackled every now and then, making Omi jump every time a voice spoke a word before getting cut off.

The world continued on as Omi lived through another rainy dark sky. Omi remembered staring up at this type of sky, his back laid out on a stretcher and hand reaching for the closest family member. Omi mentally punched himself, finding that he was getting caught up in his own trauma much more often than usual. Ever since driving lessons.

When it got too much to handle, the assignments, the expectations, the pressure, Omi indulged in make-believe. Omi imagined an universe where he was driving home to be welcomed by the warm embrace of his mother. Where his father was standing taller, where his brothers left their rooms on their own accord, where he wasn’t the backbone of the household anymore. It didn’t do him any good to hope for something impossible, but Omi did so anyways sometimes.

Perhaps it was his punishment for not being the one who died that night.

As Omi swiped mindlessly through his phone, willing for a bar, a crack of lightning made his skin crawl. Yet, beneath the pounding rain, a single yell of shock alerted Omi to look up from his screen. A deep sense of familarity forced Omi to look past his window, hoping to see past the blurriness of it all.

At the sight of a dark frame, Omi didn’t think twice before hurdling him outside, barely able to close his door before stripping his jacket and throwing it around the man. The shivering man weakly holding onto an umbrella that did nothing but cause more problems.

“Pa?! What are you doing here?”

RED LIGHTS, STOP SIGNS

I STILL SEE YOUR FACE IN WHITE CARS, FRONT YARDS

CAN’T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“Son!” Omi’s father happily greeted despite being on the verge of catching a cold. Omi held the umbrella over his father’s head, taking the brunt of the cold willingly.

“I took the bus here. I knew you’d be visiting her today, but it was quite late.” He explained, wearing a newsboy cap that he must’ve had since youth. The sight of his father with a runny nose and wet clothes at his expense set something off in Omi.

“Why did you come?”

“To bring you home—”

“What would’ve happened if you died?”

The sound of rain was defeaning. Omi’s father stopped, staring at his son like he was seeing him for the first time. Omi’s arm started shaking, his grip on the umbrella’s handle was slacking. The truth weighed upon his shoulders, like he was about to collapse.

What if the bus had crashed? What if something happened to Pa while walking to the cemetery? What if it was Omi’s fault? Before Omi could apologize, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders.

Omi dropped the umbrella.

SIDEWALKS WE CROSSED

I STILL HEAR YOUR VOICE IN THE TRAFFIC, WE’RE LAUGHING OVER ALL THE NOISE

GOD, I’M SO BLUE, KNOW WE’RE THROUGH

Omi couldn’t die.

Not when he raised his weak father that wasn’t getting any younger. He had to take care of his two younger brothers. Omi had to finish university, graduate, and be hired at a high-paying job to support his family. Fushimi Omi couldn’t die.

But, here he was, breaking.

“My boy, I’m not going anywhere.” Omi’s father said it so surely, like it was a promise he could control. Omi hesitated before resting his chin on his father’s shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of cologne. It was the brand his mother used to love, but he knew his father hated this one. It was so fitting, Omi refrained from crying.

“You’re so strong, I’m so proud of you.” Omi nodded, hugging his father with unsaid words he’d never be able to speak. Omi could never tell him his greatest fear was Pa dying. Could never admit that seeing his father react a second late makes him pace. Could never reveal he only went to university close-by in case an emergency occurred. Everything Omi did was for his father, his Pa, his only parent.

“She’d be so proud of who you are today. You are her son.” Omi’s father patted him once, twice, then pulled back. He rested his aged palm upon Omi’s cheek gently, just like his mother used to. His thumb ran over his scar with no judgment, just fatherly love.

Omi had never felt more loved.

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“You’re just like your mother, Omi.”

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