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ashcal99 · 2 years

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Certain Things : Leah Clearwater I

Chapter One

"Something about you, It's like an addiction, Hit me with your best shot honey, I've got no reason to doubt you, 'Cause certain things hurt, And you're my only virtue"

Summary: Conner Swan moves to Forks Washington in hopes to help his sister Bella through her breakup with Edward. In hopes to find happiness again. He finds much more.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, loss, antidepressants, general angst, slow burn

Words: 3.5k

A/N: Comment if I missed any warning or anything plz thnx.

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

!!!There is a prologue linked above if you're interested. You don't need to read it, but it does explain a lot of what's written later on.!!!

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December 18th, 2005

Traveling to Forks all the way from Phoenix was a long and boring trip. One that Conner had never driven before as he typically flew when traveling to visit his father. Unfortunately, seeing as he had about 20 moving boxes crammed in and strapped down under a tarp in the bed of his truck, he couldn’t exactly travel by those means this time. He supposed could’ve shipped his belongings and truck up the country, but he didn’t even want to think about how much money that would have cost. Being an accountant didn’t exactly support a lavish lifestyle by any means. Moving was never fun, especially when it was almost 1,600 miles away. But he knew that when he agreed to his father’s request to relocate north.

The twenty-one year old had been driving for about nineteen hours now, so doing a quick calculation in his head, he figured he had about four and a half hours left of the drive. He had refused to stop and pay for a hotel that he couldn’t afford and tiredness had long started to eat away at his mind. Looking at the small fluorescent numbers on his dashboard, he saw it had reached dinner time. In almost comical timing, his stomach growled out a borderline demonic sound, demanding to be fed. Giving into hunger, he pulled the old dull blue chevy truck to the nearest exit, deciding he would stop at the first restaurant he drove past. Much to his dismay, the only signs of life were an old gas station that looked like it was straight out of the 1950’s and a diner to match. Sure, 50’s diners had their appeal, but let’s just say, this one seemed a bit too authentic. He could get back on the interstate and drive further to see if there was anything else, but he knew for a fact that there wouldn’t be another exit for miles and he wasn’t about to backtrack south. He would just have to hope and pray that the food tasted better than the place looked.

Driving up to the almost empty parking lot, he pulled the transmission into park and un-clicked his seatbelt. Pausing for a moment he glanced again to the dirty windows and rusting railing of the building and grimaced. Did he really need food this bad? His stomach answered almost immediately with a low gurgling groan. Okay, that would be a yes then. Throwing his door open, he stepped out, stretching his long limbs for what felt like the first time in years. Reluctantly, he stepped back from the pick-up, manually locking the vehicle with the key, and began trudging stiffly to the dull chrome rimmed door. Once inside, his hopes for a decent meal demolished to ash as the odor of grease and burnt toast hit his sinuses. His nose wrinkled in disgust, as he choked out a cough in protest, earning the attention of a middle aged woman wearing a stained white apron who was sat directly in front of the doors, at the diner’s bar. Looking almost shocked to see a customer, she slid off the stool to her feet. Stepping over to greet Conner at the “wait to be seated” sign.

“Well hello, how can I help you?” She asked confused, the crease between her brows deepening. This couldn’t be a good sign, right? Surly it was bad that she was questioning why he would step into a diner around dinner time.

Taking a quick breath, trying not to breath through his nose too much, he answered. “Um yeah, table for one?” He needed food and a break from driving to wake up, he told himself. He could muster through this and get back to driving soon.

Quirking an eyebrow at the young man, the woman answered. “Are you sure about that? The only people we ever really serve are the farmers around here, and they clearly have incredibly low standards when it comes to the definition of food.”

He grimaced as another strong wiff of something burning hit his nostrils, seeming to singe the hairs. “Yeah, I can see that, well… smell it I guess.” He stated, wincing from the stench. “Unfortunately though, yes, I am afraid I do need to have something to eat as soon as possible or I think my stomach may start eating itself. Which I’m starting to wonder if that is the better of the two options here.” He half joked, earning a small slanted grin from the waitress.

“Right this way sweetie.” She said, ushering him to follow her to the furthest booth from the open kitchen. She slid into the booth quickly, reaching forward to unlatch the ancient window. She swiftly pulled the metal frame upwards, it groaning in protest. “Sorry about the smell sweet pea, our cook Earl gets a bit overzealous with the toaster.” She apologized, sliding against the old creaky booth to stand upright.

Conner smiled slightly, leaning down to sit on the cracked worn leather. “No worries, I just need something to eat to get me by for the rest of my drive.” He stated, pausing a moment to get a nice breath of fresh air from the now open window. “What would you recommend that’s least likely to give me food poisoning, a heart attack, or a stomach ulcer?” He half joked, a lop sided grin forming on his mouth.

The woman let out a bark of laughter, throwing her hand to her chest. “Honey, I wouldn’t touch any food here with a ten foot pole myself, but if you’re that desperate, I would recommend a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup considering the soup comes from a can-“ she paused, taking in a breath from her nose, and continued. “But, on second thought, maybe just some soup would be best.” She smiled apologetically.

Agreeing to the soup with a glass of water to drink, Conner leaned back into the creaking booth, stretching his legs as much as the space below the short table would allow. Running his fingers through his hair, he let out a deep sigh, as his thoughts began to wander.

He didn’t know what to expect when seeing his sister again after almost a year with little to no contact. The last time he had seen her had been after her accident and she had been too drugged up on pain meds to really hold much of a conversation. As far as he knew, she had no idea he was moving up, as him and Charlie decided it would be best kept a surprise.

Conner wasn’t too sure how she would react considering she had willingly stopped her daily conversations with him. He did know that after starting his antidepressants he had gotten a bit better with handling his trauma, and he could only hope that he was less of a burden to her because of it. Because, that’s what he was, right? Clearly there was a reason she had stopped talking to him after years of having a tight knit relationship with each other.

Really, he didn’t blame her, not too much anyway. He didn’t want her to feel trapped into comforting him through his depression, no matter how much it hurt him to be pushed away. She was the younger sibling and he had made the promise to protect her, not the other way around. He couldn’t expect to be coddled by her. None the less, the thought made his chest ache.

He slumped forwards, elbows resting on the table, dropping his head into his hands. The dull ache in his forehead grew. His thoughts continued grow more and more dismal, the ache turning into a pulsing behind his brow. He let his eyes shut as he kneaded his thumbs on his temples, trying to relieve some of the pain.

Before he knew it, he was jolting awake to a small shake of his shoulder. Looking around frantically, it took him a moment to remember where he was. The diner’s fluorescent lights burned his sleepy eyes as tried blinking them to attention. Turning to the waitress that still had her hand on his shoulder he asked, slightly panicked. “What time is it? How long was I asleep?”

She gave him a soft smile and replied. “Don’t worry sweetheart, you were only out a few minutes.” She paused, setting the bowl of steaming soup she had been holding down on the table, completely unbothered by the obvious heat of the ceramic bowl. “I am, however a bit concerned about your state of alertness and getting back on the road.” She continued.

He let out a small awkward laugh in reply, brushing his fingers through his hair once again, it being a bit of a nervous habit of his to do so. “Yeah-“ He said, letting out a deep yawn. “I guess I needed a bit of a power nap. I should probably get a cup of coffee to go and hope my stomach doesn’t put up too much of a fight at the food and drink combination.” He laughed.

She chuckled in reply, resting her hands inside the stained apron pockets. “Well, I’ll go ahead and start brewing that for you then.” She said smiling, turning, and walking behind the bar.

——————

Conner sipped on the coffee that had long lost its’ warmth, trying to keep himself alert. It had been a while since he had been in cold like Washington during December, and of course, he had forgotten that his truck’s heating had gone out. It was just his luck that this happened. He hadn’t exactly forgotten, but he had been so used to driving around phoenix, no matter the time of year, with his window rolled down to compensate for the fact that the heating and ac had stopped working. Arizona didn’t exactly come with the issue of trying to stay warm over half of the year. So, of course, when the sun had set just as he crossed over the Washington state line, he instantly regretted not fixing the truck previously. He knew he would have to find a mechanic to fix it asap, but for now, he was screwed.

So there her was, bundled in as many layers as he could fit on his body, sipping on cold coffee, shivering while his teeth chattered in his mouth. His cheeks had to have been bright red, he was sure. He was almost there though. In fact, hd was even starting to recognize familiar buildings on his way into town, and he knew he was only a few minutes away. Sure enough, he rounded the corner and instantly spotted the old police cruiser out front.

Not much had changed with the house since he had last seen it. The same old trees out front. Same chipped white paint. The only difference was a clunky ancient looking orange truck that now occupied half of the cracked driveway. This, he knew to be Bella’s. She had gotten it on her first day in town, back when she was still speaking to her brother.

Putting the truck in park for its’ final time of the night, he sighed, pulling the key from the ignition. Grabbing a few things, his keys, cell phone, and backpack full of overnight items, he slid out of the cab of the truck into the cold air. He closed the car door softly, trying not to make too much noise in hopes to not wake Bella, assuming she would be sleeping by now. He knew she had been having trouble sleeping and didn’t want to interfere with what little sleep she did get.

Walking up to the front door, he knocked softly. As he stood there, blowing on his hands, trying to warm them the best he could, the door swung open. And there stood Charlie. Not a thing had changed, minus maybe a new wrinkle here or there. Still the same warn out flannel shirt, bushy mustache, and warm brown eyes. "Conner!" His father whisper-shouted. Grabbing his son and wrapping him in his arms. God, he missed his dad’s hugs. Sure, the man was socially awkward as hell, but damn, did he hug with his whole heart. “I missed you so much, Son.” He said, the words muffled by Conner’s shoulder. His son had gotten taller since he had last seen him, that was for sure.

“I missed you too, Dad” He said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come to visit sooner.” He felt his eyes begin to water, trying to push back the building emotion behind his voice.

The older man pulled away, keeping his hands on his son’s shoulders, looking deep into the blues of his eyes. “Stop that. You don’t have to explain yourself or apologize. You’ve been through hell and back, Con. I understand, and I just hope that I can be there for you when you need me.” He said, tears filling his eyes as well. “You and Bells are the most important things in my life and that’s never going to change, okay?” He asked.

As Conner looked into the deep brown of his father’s eyes, the tightness in his chest that had been there for over year, slightly loosened its’ grip. He felt the comfort of home embrace the shards of his broken heart for the first time since Mia had left him. A small smile graced his lips as he nodded lightly, excepting his father’s love.

Charlie let out a deep sigh, letting his hands drop from his son’s shoulders, ushering him inside the warmth of the home. Closing the door and locking it, he turned to Conner. “I put sheets on your bed upstairs. I’m sorry, I only had your old sheets that fit, so you may want to get new ones once you get settled.” He said, giving his son a small smile.

“Thanks, Dad. I’m sure they’re fine. I’m just ready to knock out for ten hours straight.” He said, laughing lightly.

Charlie smiled. ”Okay, I'm going to go to sleep now, have to get up early in the morning. I assume you’ll still be asleep when I leave for work, but I’ll be home around seven, if you want to wait up and have dinner with me?” He asked hopefully.

"Will do, goodnight dad.” Conner replied, smiling softly.

"Night, Con. Glad you're here." Charlie took one more glance at his son before walking down the hall and into his bedroom.

He knew his aching limbs and head would have to wait until tomorrow to unpack the bed of his truck, so he didn’t bother waiting any longer before he trudged up the narrow stairs to his childhood bedroom. Trying to open the old creaky door quietly, he reached in, flipping the light on.

Warm light flooded the room revealing a small dresser, and an old mattress lying on the floor. It wasn’t the best set up, seeing as he was six foot two and would probably find some difficulty getting out of bed from so low, but this was how it was set up when he was a kid. Charlie hadn’t had time to change much of anything with such short notice and that was made clear by the power ranger posters that littered the wood paneling of the walls and the sheets that were stretched tightly across the mattress that were covered in looney tunes characters.

He sighed, knowing he would need to purchase a bed frame eventually, as he left his old one back in Phoenix, not exactly having the room for it in the bed of his truck. But that was okay, he had at least packed his sheets, and they were tucked away somewhere with the rest of his things. He would worry about that tomorrow though. For now, he just wanted a warm shower and a good night’s rest.

Setting his keys and phone down on the dresser, he turned, making his way to the small shared bathroom down the hall. Turning the water on, he dug through his bag, finding his soap and shampoo, and setting them on the edge of the tub. Peeling layer by layer off, he tossed them into the laundry hamper that occupied the far left corner. Finally, he discarded his last piece of clothing, the cool air hitting his bare skin.

Goosebumps rose on his arms as he stepped over the edge of the tub, letting the steady stream of water run over his rigid frame. He took in a deep breath, feeling the steam enter his lungs. Slowly letting the air back out, he felt his body relax under the warmth of the water. His body ached in protest of his day’s journey, the heat gradually easing the tense muscles. His mind blurred through the motions of his shower routine, wanting to finish quickly, so that he could enjoy the warmth for a bit longer. Finishing, he leaned his head back, letting the water droplets run freely down his face.

It was then that he allowed his thoughts to overcome him. It had been an overwhelming day to say the least, and after over twenty-four hours of distracting himself with music or books on tape, he was finally alone with his mind. He didn’t know what to expect from the move. It had been so long since he had set foot in the small town, and suddenly he was picking up and moving here? Sure, he had always missed his father and was happy to be around people he loved once again, but everything had progressed so quickly, he hadn’t been given time to process anything. He had gone over a year after the accident going by a strict schedule he had set in place in order to distract himself from the agonizing pain in his heart.

Now, he had been ripped away from his job, from his apartment, and from the life he was used to living day by day, and suddenly it was hard to breath. He felt his chest begin to raise quickly, up and down as he tried to catch is bearings. The sound of the water beating down on the porcelain tub began to drown out, the pounding in his ears numbing everything but the panic building in his chest.

Was he screaming? Maybe? Surely not. No, definitely not. Snapping out of his thoughts, he quickly shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he rushed to dry himself and wrap the cloth around his waist. Pushing the door open, cool air rushed down his spine, bringing the goosebumps back to his skin. Following the screams, he found himself lead to what he remembered to be his sister’s room.

Sure enough, there she was. The light of the hallway pouried in through the doorway, illuminating her thrashing body. He rushed to her side, shaking her urgently, trying to wake her from her nightmare. With a sudden gasp of air, she shot awake. Squinting through the light at the hazy silhouette before her, she blinked rapidly. Her voice cracked. “C-Conner?” She asked confused. Was she still dreaming? She couldn’t be. Her dreams hadn’t consisted of anything as pleasant as seeing her brother for a while now.

But her heart sunk as realization hit her. She had deliberately avoided him for over a year. Of course she had a good reason to do so in the beginning, but eventually it just turned into her not knowing how to come back and fix the mess that she had made of their relationship. And now he was here to taunt her in her dreams? This had to be a nightmare.

Panic began to fill her chest once again. Conner saw this in the brown of her eyes, and he quickly laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Bells, it’s okay. It’s me, I’m here.” He said reassuringly.

The space between her eyebrows creased as she finally got a good glimpse at him. Water dripped from his tousled hair onto the soft lavender of her sheets, darkening the shade slightly. She blinked. It was really him. She wasn’t too sure if that was much better than him being a part of her nightmare. “H-How?” She breathed out.

Conner sighed, “It’s late Bells, and I’ve been driving all day. I’ll explain in the morning, I promise. But, for now, you and I both need sleep. Okay?” He asked. After receiving a nod in repose, he stood, assuring his towel was secure around his waist, and walked forward to leave the room.

“Con?” Bella croaked. Turning his head back to the girl, he hummed in question. “I love you.” She answered softly, her voice trailing off slightly towards the end of her sentence.

The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly upward. “I love you too, Bells. Goodnight.” He said, not waiting for a response as he walking into the hallway, shutting her bedroom door behind himself.

After going back to the bathroom and grabbing his backpack, he sauntered back to his room. Dressing quickly in black sweatpants and a plain grey t-shirt, he climbed down into bed silently. Wrapping himself in the warmth and comfort of his childhood bed, he let himself succumb to sleep.

Next Chapter

#leah clearwater x reader #leah clearwater #Leah clearwater smut #twilight smut #twilight #Bella swan #Charlie swan #Edward cullen #eventual smut #slow burn #Leah clearwater x m!reader #fic: certain things

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machiot · 1 month

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@ulircursed sent:

Somehow, Marni ended up having an entire hut to herself.

"None of your roommates made it past the games?" Sure, his own room had an empty bed, but as far as he still knew, that was completely voluntary, and the supposed fourth occupant is still outside in a tree or something. She never even came back for the bear.

Still, Andrei frowns at the thought. As nice as it might be to have a space all to herself, it does not come without its drawbacks. "I suppose it is unnecessary to tell you this, but ensure you are on the lookout for attacks, if you are alone like this. Even with unrelated others in the same room, some pink-haired menace still decided to throw crickets into our room in the middle of the night twic..."

He trails off, gaze traveling a distance between Marni and growing more horrified by the second. The reason for that — another woman, just as pink-haired and every bit as much a menace, if not more, than Ethlyn, casually strolling along the path as if she had every right to. Instinctively, Andrei grabs Marni's arm, pulling her into the shade of the hut where they would not be seen.

"You didn't tell me she's here," he hisses, the two still close enough to the corner that Marni could turn and see who he was talking about, though Andrei would yank her back if she reached her head out too far. The girl heads into one of the nearby huts — they're on the same team??? — and immediately, his mind goes to the bow at his back, towards 'offense is the best defense' and all the violent instincts that come from finding oneself in much closer proximity to an enemy than they previously thought, to surprisingly soft lips—

Whoa. No. Not to that.

—before seemingly remembering something more important, gaze snapping back to the girl in front of him.

"Has she hurt you in any way??" Andrei demands, looking her up and down as though searching for some obvious sign of harm that he'd missed until now, like a sword just casually hanging out Marni's gut.

When Marni was younger and crammed onto a single bed with several of her brothers, she had so ardently wished for a room of her own. When she had been dropped off at the church, she had sprawled out over her own bed for the first time in her life and sworn that she would never share a room with anyone ever again.

So she should be happy that all of her roommates had disappeared by the dawn of a new day, leaving her with a solo room. Instead, she's irritated that the sudden quiet grates on her nerves. She'd been so mad that it had been so loud when she was trying to sleep and now she's annoyed that it's too quiet. What's the deal with that?

"What, you jealous?" Marni asks smugly. "No way I'm giving you my room if there are bugs in your room! You're on your o—"

She doesn't get to finish her thought before Andrei yanks her into the shadows.

"Ow! What? Who?" There are so many pink haired she/hers around here that it takes Marni a second to connect who Andrei might be talking about. "Do you mean Pinky? She's on my team, obviously she's here. She was in the game with me, too."

It's not until Andrei looks her over for injuries that she connects what he's actually worried about. He's fresh out of luck if he's looking for any injuries besides her pride; Diana had healed them all before leaving and the cake hadn't left anything more than any stray frosting.

Marni's eyes widen, "Ohhhhh, so that's what this is about! Come on, do you really think she could hurt me? I have TWO shields and I lasted way longer than she did in the game!"

Lapis had come in third, actually, but the specifics don't matter that much to Marni. As far as she's concerned, lasting even a single round longer put her leagues ahead, forget multiple rounds.

"'Sides, she's not even the person here who threatened to eliminate me if she won."

#toahappyland2024 #🎀 ic #ulircursed #🎀 support: andrei #//andrei paranoid about 2/3 of the pink girls on central island and marni is only worried about that 1/3 #insect cw ///#< mention but just to be safe #//SOMEHOW FORGOT TO ACTUALLY? TAG? ANDREI? SORRY KING

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driftwccds · 11 months

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˗ˏˋ rohan kaur ⟶ introduction

rohan kaur picked up their key from the front desk nine months ago. the thirty-seven year old uses he/him pronouns and is a oceanographer from london, england. According to their apartment application, people have told them they look a lot like dev patel, and the character they identify with most is dick grayson from batman. santa moneda gives you a warm welcome, and we hope you enjoy your stay. ( s/star, 25, she/her, est, )

B A S I C S

˗ˏˋ full name ⟶ rohan kaur ˗ˏˋ age ⟶ thirty-seven ˗ˏˋ pronouns ⟶ he/him ˗ˏˋ place of birth ⟶ falmouth, england ˗ˏˋ star sign ⟶ scorpio

I N T E R V I E W ( bio & backstory )

I: can you state your full name, age, and how long you’ve been living at santa moenda, for the record ?

R: he takes a seat across from the interviewer, his posture stiff and his eyes glued to the porcelain tiles beneath their feet. it’s clear he’s not used to being in front of the camera, and much prefers the other way around. “ rohan kaur. i just turned thirty seven. i’ve been here nine… “ he trails off as he checks his watch to confirm the date. “ …yeah. nine months. give or take. ”

I: let’s start at the beginning : where were you born ? what is your family like ?

R: “ i was born off the coast of england, in a town called falmouth. my amma —— my mom —— was a expert in marine biology, and she travelled around a lot, always coming back with these stories about the islands she visited and the animals she saw. i had two sisters growing up ; one older, one younger. yeah, i know… —— “ he titters nervously, “ —— never trust a middle child. oh. and there’s my dad. he’s just a salesman. or he was ? i think he retired last year. “

I: what was your childhood like ?

R: “ my childhood was pretty standard, as far as childhoods go. we were all crammed into this little pastel yellow house right on the beach. i got lucky. i didn’t have to share my room because i was the only boy, but my sisters were constantly arguing on the other side of the wall so it really didn’t make much difference. “ again, he gives a nervous chuckle, though this one has a hint of nostalgia to it. “ my dad was out caretaker. my mom was out on expeditions a lot, though she always made sure to call us provided she had signal —— sometimes you don’t, out in the middle of the ocean —— and she always brought us back trinkets from the places she had been. and stories. from the kind of storyteller she was you would think she has been single-handedly fighting jeff bezos and climate change on the open waters, or wrestling giant squid without a wetsuit. “ he smiles fondly, “ we had a lot of picnics, too, by the beach and the water. my parents would take us down early in the morning to explore the tidepools and the creatures living in them. i used to have a whole box of seashells i stored like treasure under my bed that i wouldn’t let my parents get rid of. we’d try to spot harbour dolphins in the channel. i don’t think we ever did, but me and my sisters all used to say we did to make each other jealous. “

I: what kind of kid were you ?

R: “ me ? “ he looks caught off guard by the question. he doesn’t want to talk about himself —— he much prefers reminiscing about his family home. he thinks about it for a minute. “ quiet. people used to say that a lot. they’d ask my dad if i was okay. i was. i just didn’t have anything to say. i read a lot ; adventure stories, mostly. anything i could get my hands on at the library or whatever i could convince my parents to buy me when we went to the bookstore. i read moby dick when i was too young to understand and cried because i didn’t realize the whale was supposed to be the villain. ” he winces, lips pursing together tightly. “ that’s kind of embarrassing to have on record, huh ? oh well. my mom used to say i had a heart that was as fragile as a jellyfish. i think it probably still rings true. um… yeah. i don’t know. i was a pretty normal, average kid. nothing extraordinary. “

I: the career that you picked : what made you decide to go in that direction ? how do you like it ?

R: “ i knew from the time i could think that i wanted to do something that would put me out on the water like my mom. it was just a matter of figuring out what that would be, and how i would get there. “ he shrugs, “ it’s basically in my dna. the summers she would be at home she would take me and my sisters out to go snorkelling off the coast and the cliffs once we were old enough. it’s like another world down there, y’know ? like you’re visiting some other planet. have you ever —— have you ever gone diving ? no ? you should —— chile is known for being the breeding ground for blue whales, though i guess they really don’t come in close to shore. there are other whales too, and dolphins that do come in towards the beaches… —— i’m getting off topic here, aren’t i ? “ sheepishly, he lowers his head, curving his shoulders up towards his ears. “ anyway, i didn’t want to be one of those scientists who sit at a desk at a university and just read papers. i wanted to actually be in the ocean, seeing it all for myself. i guess that’s where the camera comes in. i was going through a difficult time in my life and going out into the water and seeing the beauty was one of the few things that kept me going. i wanted to share that experience with other people. i wanted to have a hand in educating people, so they’d maybe understand and appreciate it the way i do and want to save it. does that answer your question ? “ he blows out his cheeks, “ i don’t know. “

I: what was the most defining moment in your life ? how has it impacted you personally ?

R: he takes a long pause after the question, his gaze downcast towards his jacket sleeves, picking at the fraying denim. “ about five years ago, i got this opportunity to go to california to study the kelp forests with a hanful of professors. up until that point i had only had temporary contract jobs, and they often required me to move around. i hoped that maybe, if i provided myself on this research trip i'd be offered even a small position at UCLA. “ his voice has been soft the entire interview, but now it’s quiet enough it can barely be heard, and twinged with a hint of guilt. “ up until then i had spent every summer back hope with my family to make sure i didn't go forever without seeing them, but this was such a great opportunity i didn't want to miss out. and i loved it, but we were out on the research boat for days at a time. our signal was kind of shitty so it wasn’t until i got back to see that my dad got a hold of me to tell me that um… my amma and my younger sister they had, um… “ yet again his shoulders cave in on himself. he sounds like he’s trying not to cry. “ there was a boating accident. a boat that was bigger than theirs wasn’t paying attention… i’m sorry —— you didn’t ask for some sob story. i don’t need pity. it just, um, i do a lot of what i do now in an attempt to be close to them, i guess. like if the ocean was the one who took them then maybe i can find some peace of them when i’m down there too. it sounds really stupid to say out loud but… “ he shrugs with a shaky exhale, “ i haven’t really been home since. i think losing them kind of messed up the family dynamics. my dad calls once and a while. so does my sister. but i’m usually really busy, so we don’t get to talk long. there’s an ocean out there to save, right ? someone’s gotta do it. “

I: why did you come to santa moenda ? how do you like it ?

R: “ i’ve already talked your ear off about the chilean marine wildlife, so i won’t bore you anymore with that. “ he forces a laugh, attempting to shake off some of the heaviness that hangs in the air around him. “ it just seemed like the right place to set up a base camp. i post a lot of the videos i take online to raise awareness about the ocean and what it’s going through —— there’s enough wildlife here that i’ll never run out of content. it’s also beautiful. “ he raises his hands to gesture to the stained glass windows on the other side of the room, and the colourful mosaic tiles dotting the walls. “ it’s like an escape from everything. i’ve been a lot of places around the world, seen a lot of beautiful cities and… i don’t know. “ he sighs, dropping his shoulders as he looks up towards the painted ceiling, “ it’s different here. plus, i think it helps being able to open the windows and see the ocean staring back at me. “

M I S C H E A D C A N O N S

he has a small tabby cat that he adopted as a stray when he first moved into the apartment complex, and that's his closest companion. talks to it all day long even though it can't answer back.

he is vegan ! the environment and climate change and the impact of humans on nature is very important to him, and so he tried to negate his own carbon footprint in however many ways he can. this includes going vegan as often as he can ( though if there's no vegan options he's not the kind of person to complain or fuss about it. )

as i mentioned above he does have like a youtube channel where he posts a lot of the amateur footage he takes of wildlife he's encountered over the years.

the death of his mom & his sister did impact him pretty heavily, especially because of the guilt he feels for having not gone home to visit them that summer. he's pretty isolated because of this; it freaks him out to be close to people because he doesn't know if they could just up and die in an accident ( he worries a lot about stuff like that, but only about other people, not himself. ) he's also a workaholic because of this.

adrenaline junky 100%. nobody who swims with sharks willingly isn't.

he travels a lot for work when he gets contracts to do camera work on documentaries or work with scientists to try and get footage of animals that are hard to capture on tape. he'll disappear without saying much for like 2 weeks and then come back from some expedition like he's been there the whole time. practically a ghost out here.

film nerd ! when you're someone who doesn't leave your apartment except to go look at the ocean what else do you have to do except consume content. that also helps with the videography stuff that he does i think. ~ cinema ~

he can very shittily play guitar. was good at it once but hasn't touched the one sitting in the corner of his room for years.

his pinterest is right here and there's a section with some random pinterest photo ideas for connections but otherwise i'm open to whatever ! this is long so thank you for reading lmfao.

#˗ˏˋ rohan kaur ⟶ introduction #intro #smhqintro

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hils79 · 1 year

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Hils Watches The King's Avatar - Ep 35

I have the day off today so I'll probably have time for a couple more episodes than I usually watch. While it's tempting to cram in all 6 and finish it I probably won't do that but we'll see how it goes.

I am having a lot of feelings about these literal children having to raise themselves. I know shit like this happens a lot in the sports and idol industries and it makes me so sad. I know Ye Xiu got kicked out but where are Mucheng and Muqiu's family?

Also, yesterday @hphaeton pointed out that the voice actor dubbing Ye Xiu is the same person who dubbed Cheng Yi in Love and Redemption. It's so obvious now I know. I can't believe I didn't spot it before. He has a very nice voice.

Oh no he's crying again

Poor Mucheng this must be so hard for her too. It's like losing her brother all over again.

Oh no they're all blaming each other for the loss and it's making Ye Xiu Even Sadder. But, look, isn't this the first time they've actually lost a pro game? No team can win all the time this is something they're going to need to get used to. I'm sure Ye Xiu will teach them that.

Oh do NOT start lashing out at my son who is trying to keep the peace

Everyone is so upset. Also, that is a very Western breakfast they are eating

Look, obviously I love them all. But if you're going to suggest disbanding every time you lose a game then maybe you aren't suited to being a team. Take the loss, reflect, bounce back. That's what sport is. To make it All About Me when I first got into hockey my team of choice had one of the worst seasons ever seen. 5 years later they won the championship.

I shouldn't laugh when everyone is dramatically breaking up but Mo Fan is such a mood

He's tired and sad and that should be your rallying point. Unite to cheer him up and help him rebuild his weapon (which I'm assuming they will do when they get over all this)

Ye Xiu at least understands that they need more time to properly bond as a team. The latest member joined them right before the game that they lost.

NO THE GAMER GIRLFRIENDS HAVE BROKEN UP THIS IS TERRIBLE. They were my first ship in this drama 😭

I'm glad you've learned this lesson but you literally ran away from your esports team because you lost a competition and back to your piano school that you also ran away from because you lost a competition. We seem to be going in circles here.

So Tang Rou has gone back to music school and Wei Chen is selling his account. This is all feeling very permanent and I am Concerned

Oh, thank god. Baozi is there to (hopefully) stop him

How could anyone resist the puppy face

I love Baozi so much. He really is the heart of the team. He just wants to hang out with his friends and do the thing they all love whether they win or lose. I think he should just go around everyone and 🥺 at them until the agree to come back

Great now I'm crying

Well, fuck, he signed it anyway

Ow, shit, Mo Fan comes out of left field and kicks me right in the chest

God, he still looks so sad! Everyone is so sad and I hate it! If Yifan cries again I am done!

I can't believe this many journalists and photographers have shown up for one minor league esports team

No journalist ever has asked for proof in the middle of a press conference

Wu Chen of all people to the rescue. Holy shit!

To the surprise of no one Wu Chen's 'betrayal' was all just a big misunderstanding

I'm very sorry I called you a dirty cheater. Thank you for being the voice of reason

#hils watches #hils watches the king's avatar #hils watches cdramas #the king's avatar #cdrama

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godpythiaofambria · 4 months

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Like so many tiny crystals// Short Story Part IV

In tenth grade we were made to run for half an hour. It had been raining all day, gray skies blending into the just as gray trees and fields and streets of our hometown. The track smelled of wet rubber and mud and with every step it squelched under the soles of our soon soaked gym shoes. No one ran much that day. The cold air stung in the lungs of those who tried; we slipped and fell all the way, soon looking just as muddied as the dirty track. Before long, we’d given up and trotted the track listlessly in pretended effort for movement. We all did, except for her. She ran, furiously so. She fell and she bled, but she would not stop. Every step looked as strong as if she was carved from marble, an artwork, a hero of old. When the thirty minutes had passed and we fled the relentless rain to the tiny, roofed area of the sports grounds, crammed together in the little space it offered and wrapping ourselves in dry towels, she kept running for two more rounds, and when she finally stumbled into my arms, dirty and bloody, hair dripping wet and makeup smudged, she looked divine.

“Oh my god”, she’d said and laughed breathlessly, “I’ve never felt this alive”.

We learned that she would not stop anything she started, that she’d do it excessively, even if it meant destroying herself. We learned, too, that her destruction was beautiful, that she shone brighter with every bruise and that any splint she’d wear was but another medal to her inexhaustible spirit.

Where we fell to the ground, the creek mouthed into a lake. Those who did not leave for Spain in summer would come here and crowd the narrow beach with their striped beach towels, or sulk under the trees in the nearby clover field, making sure not to step on any bumblebees that fed on the white blossoms. Now, the bumblebees had fallen asleep, and the beach was empty. The quiet lake reflected the stars above us.

“What’s your favorite constellation? “, she asked.

“Orion”, one of us answered and pointed.

She smiled at that. Orion, the hunter.

Lying down, the sky swallowed us whole. It was above and below and all around. All the stars were dancing for us. While they waltzed, our thoughts and then our consciousnesses slowly drifted away.

When we woke, she was gone. It took a few moments for the realization to set in, as our minds were still heavy with sleep. Slowly, we rose, looking around in confusion. The almost-full moon lit up the meadow and the beach, yet she was nowhere to be seen. It was not until we turned our attention to the lake, that we found her.

The picture was haunting. She was floating in the middle of the lake. With the shining white of her dress, she looked as if the moon had fallen right into the dark water, and all the stars with her, into a silver-black grave.

When we had grasped what we were seeing, panic set in. We ran into the water, stumbled and fell into its icy cold while screaming her name. Our soaked dresses clung heavily to our legs, hindered our movements. We felt stuck in that kind of dream in which you had to run but your body would not listen; we were slow, so infuriatingly slow.

And then she stirred. In one fluent motion, a flash of white, she let herself fall out of her resting position and swam towards us. When then lake shallowed, she stood up. We ran up to her, pulled her out of the water and onto the beach. Her skin was cold and her lips a pale blue. Are you all right, we asked, what were you thinking? As soon as her feet touched the sand, she shook us off.

“I was just going for a swim, all right? It’s not a big deal”.

She studied the terror on our faces, the tenseness of our bodies that had not yet vanished. If she looked for a sign of understanding, she did not find it.

“Come on, what’s wrong with you?”, she said in disbelief. “Maybe you should try it sometime. Clears the mind of pointless restraints”. She shook her head, eyes glinting with disdain.

When we told her, how dangerous it had been to swim out on her own at night, how easily she could have been hurt, or worse, and that we’d been genuinely frightened for her, she had already stopped listening. She was backing away.

“You know what? Forget it. You’re acting like fucking prison guards!”. She wrung out her hair and her dress and started walking away, quickly so. Just once, she turned around.

“Have fun rotting in mediocrity then!”

Nobody answered. Nobody followed. We just stared at her like sheep that had lost their shepherd. That feeling of exceptionality had vanished. Worse, it had never been our own to begin with. It was hers alone. Without her, we were nothing but eleven ridiculous girls in dirty dresses who now desperately wanted to go home.

Our good-byes carried none of the warmth of the evening. We felt like the sky itself weighed down on our shoulders as we walked home, every one of us on their own.

#prose #short story #writing #literature #creative writing #female writers #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writers and poets #female rage #cottagecore #dionysus

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whatisreggieshortfor · 2 years

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Episode One- The Swimmer, The Banker, The Chef

@bypine’s OC Chrys.

Narrator voice: “It was nine am. The sun was shining. The AC was up.

And three guys found themselves crammed in the back of a panel van together.”

The video clicked on before they could even introduce themselves to each other. “Uh, hey there, boys!” A girl with caramel skin and short black hair appeared there almost drowning in her oversized grey sweater, self conscious smile lighting up her face, “My name is Chrys. I’m a surgical nurse, I’m 27, and I’ll be snooping through your rooms today!” She giggled to herself, “They gave me ‘spy tools’ for the occasion. Gloves to check for dust, a black light- which I might just leave in the case-“ she wrinkled her nose, “And tongs? I guess in case I think something is too gross to touch. Here’s hoping I don’t need them!”

“Oh, man, I wonder who will be first. Levi, by the way.” He extended his right hand to the two of them, his left reaching up to scratch at his head.

“Nice to meet ya, mate. I’m Jasper.”

“Jake.” He nodded at them, arms crossing over his chest. “What made you guys sign up for this?”

“Thought it would be a laugh.” Jasper shrugged, “But if I get a date with her it might be worth it.”

Levi chuckled with a nod, “It was a dare on my end. My teammates always say that if I can’t smolder at a girl then she won’t be into me.” Jake frowned at that. Sure, he hadn’t signed up himself. Tim and Rohan did it for him. But he didn’t think these were good attitudes to go into this with. “Oh!” Levi pointed at the screen, “Looks like she’s at my place first.”

“Okay!” Chrys cheered to herself as she walked through the front door, “This place looks…very clean. Are you a neat freak?” She wondered aloud, wandering through. She grabbed the remote to the tv, scrolling through his DVR. “A lot of sports. An athlete? Or just a fanatic?”

“Bit of both.” Levi chuckled.

Chrys trailed herself down the hallway, cameraman never far behind, before she stopped outside the open door of his bedroom, “I just…I go in? Seems a little rude.” Someone off screen must have said something, because then she was walking in, peering around at the walls, “This room is just covered in frames.” Eyes wide, she leaned closer to one of them, “Olympic Qualifier…so you are an athlete.” He had his team jacket framed up on the wall, but she barely glanced at it, “Seems like something that takes a lot of time and focus. We probably wouldn’t get much time together.”

Levi sighed, “Yeah, I get that one a lot.”

“Could be worse, mate. Least she knows you got a good physique from all that training.” Jasper offered. Jake nodded, but just from watching her he didn’t think she cared about that. Not with way her left hand was twirling the black ring peeking out of her sweater sleeve as it sat on her right middle finger whenever her hands were empty.

“Oh, what is this?” She was holding his speedo up to the camera with the tongs, clearly trying not to laugh, “I get cutting down water resistance, but I’ve never understood why they literally only cover the bits.” She did the process of wiping the gloves on things, the tops of the frames coming back dusty, “Good thing they gave me gloves. I don’t need to deal with hives today.” She flipped through his closet, humming at the plain clothes, “We have a similar style. So that’s cool.”

Jasper glanced between the three of them, “Do none of us have prints?”

Jake shrugged, “I meet with investors at the restaurant too much. I need plain clothes so I can take my coat off.”

Chrys cringed as she pulled the black light from the case, moving toward the bed, “Okay, let’s do this.” She picked up a pillow, only to stop short.

“No! Oh, bollocks, I forgot that was there.” Levi buried his head in his hands.

“Oh, uhhhh, they were supposed to take all the pictures out of the house.” She held up a picture of Levi and his ex girlfriend, her proudly kissing his cheek, “I hope this isn’t your girlfriend? Kind of messed up to sign up for the show if you’re still with her.”

Jake’s jaw dropped open, “Mate-“

“No, no, no. It isn’t like that. It’s my ex. I’ve been trying to actually throw the damn thing away but I just-“

“You still kept it.” Jasper shook his head, “Not liking your odds now.”

“I suppose we are on to the next home now!” Chrys chirped at the camera, the short strands of her hair swishing with the movement as she bounced out the door.

Jasper groaned as the screen showed her in front of his place. He knew all the flat surfaces looked like a mess, he had work papers everywhere. And unknown to the two boys beside him, he was panicking over some very real things he knew were in his bedroom that he only just thought he probably should’ve taken down. Jake patted him on the shoulder, complimenting the exterior of the flat as they watch Chrys make her way to the door.

“Okay guys!” She grinned shyly, “House number two.” She walked through the living room, commenting on how sparse it was, “My living room looks just the same. No need for much when you live on your own, right?” She found an office, files piled everywhere, “Whoa,” eyes wide, she gently shut the door again, “I don’t know if those are private so I’ll just leave them be.”

Jasper was thankful for that. They contained customer information that he was not allowed to share.

Eventually she found his bedroom, and he refused to look at the screen or either boy beside him as she opened the door. Mouth agape, she stared at the walls covered in band posters. “We’ve got…*NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, New Kids on the Block, One Direction? Mate, how old are you?” She squatted down next to his stereo, flipping through the cases, “I didn’t even know people still bought CDs. You really like boy bands, huh? Boys in Motion, Five Seconds of Summer, Big Time Rush. Not all bad choices, but do you have any music that…ya know, isn’t a boy band?” She found a collage on the wall, pictures missing from it that she assumed had his face, while other pictures were of the concerts attached to the ticket stubs stuck beside them. She moved to the closet next, mostly dress shirts, but with quite a few shirts from the concert sellers thrown in, “You really run with a passion, huh?” She giggled as her fingertips trailed over the sleeves. “Okay, I think it’s time to head to number three, what do you think boys?”

Jasper blew out a puff of air, face buried in his hands. Levi spoke up first with a shit eating grin, “Boy bands, huh?”

Jake wasn’t pleased, “Mate, you shouldn’t be judging someone’s room when you had a photo of your ex literally under your pillow.” Levi scowled, but Jasper just offered Jake a grateful fist bump.

When Chrys got to Jake’s flat, he was nervous. Everything he’d seen about her already- he knew she was amazing, knew he liked her. But she had to like him based on his room. And he knew there wasn’t much there.

“Okay! Home number three.” Chrys almost skipped into the house, getting more comfortable with wandering around a strangers home, she flipped through his DVR like she had at Levi’s, finding a lot of Gordon Ramsey’s shows, “I love watching Kitchen Nightmares! Gordon is bloody good talent. Does this mean you like to cook?” She seemed to toss around an idea in her head, venturing past his bedroom at first into his kitchen. She opened the fridge, eyes lighting up at the fresh ingredients, “You do cook! That’s mighty impressive for a bloke.”

“Ain’t you a chef?” Levi asked, turning to look at Jake.

“Head chef, got my own restaurant. Certificate from culinary school is hung there, so she won’t find it at home.” Jake watched her carefully through the screen as the cameraman followed her to his room.

“The walls are so pretty.” She smiled, gaze drifting across the deep blue walls before landing on his bookshelf, “What do we have here? Cooking, cooking, poetry? Are you a romantic at heart, Number Three? I bet you’re the kind of guy that recites poetry to his girlfriend.” Jake felt his face burn, but couldn’t care as she continued, “I can get behind that, honestly. I love sweet gestures like that.” She kept moving, with more pep in her step than had been there before, opening his closet she pulled out one of his chef’s coats. “Oh, you don’t just like to cook! Wow, that’s great. Really.” She smiled softly, like it was just to herself before flipping through the other clothes, “This jumper is so soft. Makes me want to steal it from you.” She giggled.

Jasper leaned over to Levi, “I’m not liking either of our odds at this point.” Levi nodded in agreement.

“Whelp, boys, I think that’s all for now. I guess I’ll be meeting you soon!”

Next thing the boys knew, they were being led into a building and into Chrys’s flat. Levi let out a whistle, “Pretty empty in here.” He commented, there was really only the basics in furniture, scarce decorations hung on the walls.

“What flag is this?” Jasper pointed up into the wall.

Levi rolled his eyes, “Philippines.”

“What about this one?” Levi stared at it, eyes narrowing as he tried to place.

Jake turned to look from where he’d been looking at her bookshelf, distracting himself from the volumes of novels, “That’s the ace flag, boys.” When they stared at him blankly, he clarified, “You know, asexual? Didn’t you see her ring?”

“A ring is a ring, mate.” Levi rolled his eyes.

Jake just shook his head.

It didn’t take long before the three of them were sat on the couch, watching as the door opened and Chrys waved at them from beneath her long sleeve. “Hey guys! It’s nice to, ya know, actually meet you.” Jake chuckled to himself. She was adorable.

“Hey, good to meet you, too.” Levi gave her a hug that she seemed to almost shrink away from, so after Jasper did the same thing, Jake just offered her a nod in greeting that she seemed grateful for.

“Well…let’s get to it, shall we? I have to eliminate one person right away, so…” she took a deep breath, and Jake realized she was probably worried about hurting someone’s feelings right off the bat, “Room number one.” She looked right at Levi, which made sense with what she’d found, “I’m sorry, you seem like a very driven person, working hard enough to make it to the Olympics, but you still have what I assume is a picture of your ex. It doesn’t seem like you’re ready to move on.”

“I understand. It was good to meet you.” The swimmer gave her a kiss on the cheek before disappearing out the door.

“Okay…” she was twisting her ring again, “The second one I will eliminate is…room number two. I think it’s sweet that you have such a love for music, but I’m not sure our tastes wouldn’t clash. It doesn’t seem like you branch out very far.” Her gaze jumped between them, clearly unsure who she was rejecting, but Jasper gracefully nodded his head, offering her a handshake before he left the same way Levi did. She smiled shyly over at the last remaining boy, “I guess that makes you the chef.”

“Indeed it does.” He chuckled, “I’m Jake. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, too. So…about the date…”

“I was hoping you’d let me cook for you?” He smiled, “And you were right. I do tend to write poetry for my girlfriend. Maybe when we get there I’ll have some inspiration.”

#litg #litg season 1 #old mtv #mtv room raiders #litg jake #litg levi #litg jasper

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inochinoyomikata · 2 years

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Inochi no Tabekata Part 0 Translation

Part #0- 過去＝．彼方 Past =. Beyond

Hold the bar with your right hand. Lightly gaining momentum, he went upside down with one hand. Put your left leg on the horizontal bar and lift your body at once.

Otogiri Tobi stood on the horizontal bar and folded his arms.

"Oi oi, Tobi..."

The backpack hanging on his left shoulder laughed in amazement.

"I'll tell you. Is it because you’re a bit eccentric? You're a strange guy from the looks of it, aren't you?"

Tobi pretended not to hear and looked around the small children's park. horizontal bar. slide. Two trees were planted. There were two benches. A drinking fountain. Outdoor lights. A two-seater swing.

A pair of boys were on a swing. Both were younger than Tobi. Fifth or sixth grade? Both of them had faces as if to say, ‘What is that junior high school student, scary?’

"Look!"

“Kek, kek, kek,” The backpack let out an obscene laugh.

Tobi clicked his tongue. Shut up, Baku, he just thought and didn't say. Those elementary school students can't hear Baku's voice. Tobi is the only one in the world that could talk to this backpack.

Tobi jumped off the horizontal bar.

"That’s needlessly agile, isn't it? You’re like a monkey."

Ignoring Baku, who never got tired of teasing him, he went up the slide this time.

The boys on the swing were no longer looking at Tobi. They were fiddling with a smartphone instead of swinging the swing.

Tobi crouched down on the slide. Back then, Tobi was probably about that tall.

The part that slides down was made of metal. It was a silver color with conspicuous dents. The yellow paint on the handrail was peeling off in places.

“…Could it be here?” Baku said in a whisper.

"How about that?"

Tobi answered in a whisper and turned up the left sleeve of his uniform. The liquid crystal display of the wristwatch he got from a recycle shop shows 4:59 p.m. Tobi was in middle school, and had not joined club activities, and had not attended cram school. The curfew at the facility is 5:30.

"You won’t be in on time if you don’t go home soon," Baku sneers.

Shut up. Thinking that, Tobi jumped off the slide.

The shadow of Tobi, who was carrying a backpack on his shoulder, was extremely long.

A chime started to ring. There was a small glow at sunset. A familiar melody. A familiar sound.

Tobi looked up at the dusky evening sky.

"...Piggyback"

"Ah? What?"

Instead of answering Baku's question, Tobi muttered repeatedly.

“Piggyback—”

---

That's it.

A piggyback.

He came to this park on his brother’s shoulders. His brother was singing something softly.

"Hey brother, what song is that?"

When Tobi asked, his brother laughed and dodged.

"What song is it?"

"Tell me."

Tobi pestered him by gently pulling his brother's ear.

"Hey tell me what song?"

"I made it."

"You did?"

"Ah, I made that song just now."

---

He remembers. Clearly. He remembered vividly.

A slide. Tobi played on that slide many times. His brother sat on the bench and watched him. He was slouching forward with his legs crossed and his eyes squinting. His brother was smiling.

He also rode the swing. The swing is a two-seater. His brother also got on the swing.

"……That's it"

"I'm not going."

The piggyback was on the way home.

Tobi’s brother carried him on his shoulders when he was tired from playing. His brother was singing another song on the way home with the glow of the setting sun.

"Tobi." Baku calls out.

"Hey, Tobi."

Tobi left the children's park without answering. In front of him was a two-story house. Right here? Or left? Where did my brother go that day? No. I don’t know.

For the time being, Tobi tried walking to the right. The road was so narrow that cars could barely pass each other. None of the buildings facing the road were very new. Some of the buildings were quite old.

There was a barbershop with red, blue, and white sign poles. The outer walls are dark green. The name of the shop is Barber Shop Hatsushima. Some things look familiar, some things don't.

"What is it?" Baku asks. Tobi shook his head without stopping.

"I'm looking for an apartment." He didn’t know the address, but it should be around here. The color was white-ish, and it was a two-story building with an outside staircase and an outside corridor. Tobi lived with his brother on the second floor of the apartment.

What number was it on the second floor? It was a corner room. He generally remembered what the room looked like. A black fence was installed outside the window, and his brother let him sit on it. The image of his older brother smoking a cigarette with his elbows on the fence was burned into his memory.

Tobi stopped in the middle of the T-junction. There was a manhole at his feet.

No matter which direction he looks, there is no view that sticks in his memory.

Eight or nine years have passed since then. Things might have changed in the meantime.

"What's going on, Tobi?" Baku says.

“So—” Tobi tried to hold back. "Shut up, you!"

It was impossible. He just yelled.

"...Don't get angry. That was my bad."

It's not like Baku to apologize. Tobi sighed and turned on his heel. It was at that time a blackened old block wall caught his eye. There was a corner on the other side of the fence. A black and dirty block wall. A corner.

Strangely curious, Tobi went over there. At the end of the corner was a fairly narrow alley, lined with one-story and two-story houses on both sides. The roadside was lined with potted plants, and the telephone poles were extremely thin. It looked like the power lines were covering the path. Tobi’s heart beat as if it were jumping up.

"Here - we passed..."

---

That day.

Tobi ran along that path. Not alone. He was with his brother. Tobi was being led by his older brother. He was in a hurry. Were they being chased? That's it. Someone was chasing Tobi and his brother. They were running away. Why?

Why were we being chased? I didn't even have time to think about that? He wondered. He couldn’t remember. Tobi wondered if his brother had explained what was going on. Or maybe his brother didn't understand either. He did not know. He was desperate anyway. That's it.

There was no one. It was dark. He didn't think it was pitch black. After sunset? Was it early morning? It could’ve been either.

The path came to a somewhat wider road. To the right, there are two shops with tents on the right and one on the left. Tobi and his brother probably ran on this road.

It must have been quite painful. Tobi was not running now. However, his chest hurt.

Tobi was sure he had whined many times. ‘Brother, I can't do it anymore. Impossible. It hurts and I can't run anymore. Stop it.’

His brother must have encouraged him. “Go for it, Tobi. I can run. You can still run.”

That's it.

I have to do my best.

Because brother said he could run.

After going through that road, Tobi came to a cobbled road instead of asphalt. It was an old shopping street. Most shops were shuttered. He didn't remember this shutter town. Did he take a wrong turn?

That's not it. It was an alley. His brother and Tobi entered the alley right there and passed through.

“What is this place, Tobi?” Baku pressed him. Tobi doesn't reply. He thinks it was here. There’s no doubt. Really?

Downtown, no distinctive features? In other words, it was an ordinary townscape. Was it really here?

Tobi’s brother finally picked him up. At that time, Tobi might have been crying, or he fell and couldn't get up. That's it. He fell here. His brother picked him up and ran.

"It's okay, Tobi!"

His brother's voice revived him.

He heard the sound of a car. There was a red light in the distance, and his brother said, "Shit!"

It was likely there were more than one or two people chasing Tobi and his brother. There were many.

---

"Stop!"

That's what he was told. It was a man's voice. Not now. It was around that time. However, Tobi suddenly stopped. He had a creepy feeling. How can he remember it so clearly? Tobi clung to his brother, who was holding him, and probably closed his eyes. He opened his eyes in surprise when the man said “stop” him in a threatening tone.

The man was standing there. The man was holding something in his hands. The object was pointing towards him. A loud noise resounded. A bursting sound. It sounded like a hard hit. What was that sound? He didn't know at the time. In retrospect, it must have been a gunshot.

The man had a gun. He fired at Tobi and his brother.

His older brother yelled, "Ah!" and staggered. At that time, he never thought that he had been shot with a gun. But something happened to his brother. Even Tobi understood that.

However, after that, his brother continued to run away while holding Tobi in his arms. His brother had a limp. He was clearly injured. It was hurting.

How long did they run away? Not tens of seconds or minutes. Dozens of minutes, or maybe more?

His brother ran into an alley between buildings. Before that, his brother had put him down. Tobi also remembered that he asked to be put down. In any case, Tobi was holding hands with his brother. It was very damp, kind of smelly, and filthy. A number of outdoor units of air conditioners protruded overhead like half roofs and were roaring.

His brother suddenly opened the door and pushed Tobi inside.

"Hide here."

"But brother..."

"Stay still until I say okay. Understood, Tobi? Promise me. Never raise your voice."

His brother was in the alley. Tobi was indoors. His brother was trying to close the door. Tobi was scared and anxious. If he did as as brother said, he would be alone. He refused. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted to be with his brother, he did not want him to leave.

But his brother was injured. It hurt the whole time and must have been tough. He was sure he was at his limit. He couldn’t.

Tobi was pulling his leg. He was a hindrance.

I don't want to be separated, and I don't want to be alone, but I have to obey, he thought.

“Yes.”

Tobi nodded and his brother put his index finger to his lips.

"Shhh."

He could hardly see his brother's face.

However, somehow, he felt like his brother was laughing at that time.

Tobi nodded once more, this time silently.

His brother closed the door. It got dark.

Tobi remembers that darkness.

It was not just dark. He could even feel the texture. That darkness had weight. It was so dark and he couldn’t see anything. Tobi was blindfolded by darkness. If the darkness covered Tobi’s eyes, nose, ears, and even his mouth, he would not be able to breathe. Darkness came to Tobi.

He felt like he was going crazy, so he put his ear to the door and heard the sounds outside. The outdoor unit is humming. He was a little relieved to hear that sound. The darkness had not completely blocked his ears yet.

He immediately heard another sound. Could it have been the sound of footsteps? He heard a loud noise.

And also a voice.

Someone was yelling. Was it his brother? Could it be another person?

Of course, Tobi wanted to go outside. He put his hand on the door knob. He was on the verge of opening it, and he hesitated many times.

"Hide here." His brother ordered him to do so. Tobi nodded when asked to make a promise. He couldn’t break his promise to his brother. He couldn’t do that.

But in the end, I was scared.

He was so terrified that all he could do was hold his breath in that darkness.

Before he knew it, Tobi was crouching down. He waited for his brother.

His brother would definitely come back. ‘It's okay, that's enough, Tobi,’ he’d call out to him. Tobi believed in his brother. He had to believe.

It was probably a stairway that was closed in darkness. The stairs lead down and down. Maybe anywhere. Down to the bottom of the earth.

At times, he sensed that something was moving beyond the darkness. Each time, Tobi almost screamed. He managed to suppress it and called out to his brother in his heart.

Brother.

Help me, Brother.

Come back, brother.

Come back soon, brother.

Please, I'm begging you, brother.

Brother.

I'll be waiting here Because I promised I'd do what you said. Brother──

Tobi wondered how long he had been waiting for his brother, shivering in the darkness, perhaps dozing off, and suddenly waking up.

Three hours?

Four hours?

Ten hours?

More than that?

Half a day?

One day?

Maybe two days?

Even more?

“──T……”

Suddenly, there was the sound of the door opening, and light flooded in. It was dazzling. For a moment, his eyes hurt. It didn't matter.

"Brother!"

Tobi climbed the stairs. The door was still open. He went out from there. It smelled like a ditch. The alley was paved with concrete. Dirty and cracked concrete with red stains.

It's blood.

──He thought.

Whose blood is it? No way.

No way, brother.

"There's no way." Tobi was on the stairs leading to the dark basement. He was alone. Someone opened the door from outside. Who opened it?

"Brother"

That's it. His brother. His brother opened the door. He decided. His brother is back. He came to pick him up.

Tobi searched for his brother. He must be somewhere. If it was his brother who opened the door, it would be strange if he wasn't right next to him.

"Oh..."

There. A man stood near the exit of the alley. But that, Tobi shuddered. Wrong.

You're not my brother.

The man was facing Tobi. He was tall and wore a hat. At that time, Tobi didn't really know what kind of hat it was. But that hat must’ve been a silk hat. The man wore a scarf and a long black coat.

The problem was the man's face.

The eyes.

There is only one.

No, it's just the eye.

One eye.

That was the man's face.

It's not the centerpiece. It's just the eyes. If Tobi wasn’t mistaken, the man's face, one eye, blinked. It means that there was something like an eyelid.

The one-eyed man had a bag or something on his shoulder. He didn't seem to have anything else.

At least he wasn't holding a gun. It's not the guys who were chasing Tobi and his brother. He had a feeling it wasn't something like that.

After all, he had one eye.

Or it could be something more dangerous, scary, or mysterious. After all, he had one eye.

The one-eyed man slowly took off his bag from his shoulder and held it out towards Tobi. Accept it, the behavior seemed to say.

Tobi immediately shook his head. The one-eyed man looked suspicious, and he didn't recognize the bag either. He couldn’t take that kind of thing.

Before long, the one-eyed man lowered his face slightly. After that, he bent down and gently put the bag on the ground.

A bag.

It was probably a bag.

It had a strap so you could put it on your shoulder or carry it on your back. It was a big bag.

Tobi stared at the bag for a while.

When he woke up, the one-eyed man was gone. Nowhere. He's gone. It's as if the one-eyed man never existed.

But I can't pretend it wasn't there.

I have proof.

That bag was left behind.

It was left behind by the one-eyed man.

"Because of him..."

Tobi suddenly felt like crying.

It's because of him, that one-eyed man. Because he opened the door, Tobi accidentally went outside. He should have waited until his brother came back. Because of the one-eyed man, Tobi broke his promise to his brother.

Tobi was originally a crybaby. He often cried for no good reason. When Tobi started crying, his brother hugged him tightly. His brother didn't tell him not to cry.

‘Don't cry, Tobi. You can cry as much as you like.’

For some reason, tears came to his eyes when he remembered his brother's words.

Since then, Tobi has never cried again.

After some hesitation, Tobi reached out for the bag the one-eyed man had left behind. When he picked it up, it was light for its size. Even Tobi, who was only five years old at the time, was able to carry the strap over his left shoulder like the one-eyed man did.

Strangely, he felt like he wasn't alone.

The red stain continued to the outside of the alley.

“My brother is injured.”

Tobi was convinced.

The stain was his brother's blood.

His brother may have intended to scatter the pursuers on his own. He was sure he was going to come back after making sure it was safe. But something happened and he couldn't come back.

In that case, Tobi should go to his brother's place.

"I have to search for him–"

#inochi no tabekata #inochi no tabekata translation #e ve

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awkwardauthorwrites · 2 years

Text

End of the World

Part One

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: not proof-read, swearing, mentions of violence, fluff, slight angst if you squint and turn your head to the side, semi-anxious reader

Authors Note: Title is kind of misleading it’s not quite what you think, take a listen to this. Previously on awkward-author

If someone had told Steve Harrington three months ago that his car would be crammed with middle schoolers and a quiet girl with powers that he didn’t fully understand, he would have outright laughed in their faces and asked them how much they had had to drink. The only part that made any sense was having his best friend, Y/N, by his side, even if she was being a little quieter than usual.

“Hey!” Steve glared though his rear-view mirror, to where Lucas and Dustin were currently arguing. “If you shitheads don’t calm down back there I’m going to leave you stranded on the side of the road.”

“No, you won’t,” Dustin scoffed from the back seat and pulled himself forward so that he was in between the two front seats. “Y/N won’t let you.”

“Y/N doesn’t control me,” Steve shook his head, but cast a worried look over at the girl in his passenger seat nonetheless. She had been eerily quiet ever since they had left Billy passed out at the Wheelers’ place. She was currently facing away from him, her head resting on the window to watch the scenery flash by. He would have thought she was asleep, except she kept on rubbing her knuckles, or sometimes winced carefully and touched the dark bruise forming on her jaw.

“Bullshit Harrington,” Dustin chuckled to himself and clapped his hand on the older girl’s shoulder. “You’re scared of her, just admit it.”

“Get your hand off my shoulder or I’ll throw you out of the car myself,” Y/N spoke in a low voice and turned her head fractionally to look at the hand in question. “And Steve won’t be stopping first.” The children in the back fell silent at the underlying threat, and even Steve seemed surprised by her words. She let out a low groan and reached out behind her to pat the top of Dustin’s head. “I’ve got a killer headache, kid. Just keep it down back there and I’ll make sure Steve doesn’t leave you to walk home.” The curly haired boy apologised quietly and slid backwards to talk in hushed tones with the rest of the kids, earning a small smile from Y/N as she turned her head slowly to look at Steve.

“Do you want to spend the night at mine?” he asked quietly, eyes flickering over to her in concern. “Or do you want me to drop you off at home?”

“Where are the kids going?”

“Back to mine.” He paused in front of a stop sign and faced her properly. “They all wanted to stick together and none of the other parents were up to hosting one massive sleepover.”

“Dad Steve to the rescue,” she teased him slightly and drummed her fingers on the window gently. “Can I go back to yours? My parents think I’m still at Kate’s house.” He nodded to show he heard her and turned right onto his road, his hand reaching across the middle to squeeze hers gently. “Could I –”

“Borrow my old middle school shirt to sleep in?” he finished her sentence and shot her a cheeky smile. “Of course.” She flicked the back of his hand half-heartedly to reprimand him and slowly began to get her things together as Steve pulled up into his driveway.

Y/N was out of the car before he had fully stopped and only paused on her sluggish trek to the front door to turn and catch the house key that Steve had thrown at her retreating back. She knew that his parents weren’t in town, but she still called out a quiet hello just in case they were wandering around silently. It wouldn’t be the first time they had come back from a business trip early without letting Steve know. Y/N dropped the keys into the bowl by the door and shuffled towards the kitchen to grab a drink before slowly making her way up the stairs to Steve’s room. The children called out an enthusiastic goodnight to her when she was halfway up the staircase, which she returned with an unintelligible groan.

“Alright, come on shitheads it’s time for bed.”

She could hear Steve setting the children up downstairs as she dumped her stuff on his bedroom floor and fell unceremoniously onto his bed. She lay still for all of thirty seconds before sitting back up and flicking his lamp on. She wouldn’t be able to sleep with the lights off for a while after the past few weeks. She rubbed a weary hand over her face before grimacing as she touched the sensitive skin on her jaw, courtesy of Billy Hargrove. The children – especially Max – had gone mad when they saw him punch her after she defended Steve, but she quickly stood in front of them to stop them from doing something stupid, as well as to protect them from the violent and volatile male in front of her.

“Come on,” Steve let out a sound akin to a whine. “You can’t all sleep in here! The girls have to sleep in the next room.” Y/N let out a small laugh as she heard the children complain and took a second to kick her shoes off before descending the stairs herself.

“…all just going to end up back in here anyway!” Max argued.

“Yeah well…” Steve seemed unable to come up with a reasonable response and pointed at the younger child. “I’m older. What I say goes. The girls are sleeping in the next room.”

“Respect your elders? Nice argument you have there, Harrington,” Y/N leaned against the doorframe and watched as all seven occupants of the room whirled around, rather comically, to face her. “The girls are sleeping in the next room,” she repeated firmly, silently daring the children to contradict her. “End of discussion. Understood?” They shuffled their feet, clearly wanting to fight back, but not wanting to rile up the older girl in front of them. Even Dustin was steadily avoiding her gaze. “Understood?”

“Yes, sir – ma’am!” Dustin saluted her, almost mockingly, but she let it slide and turned to look up at Steve.

“I don’t want to look through your shit in case I find something I shouldn’t see. Can I get that shirt?” He nodded and turned to leave the room, unaware of the wink Y/N shot the kids as she told them to do what they wanted as soon as she and Steve had gone back upstairs. With a quick wave to all the kids, she turned and followed Steve up the stairs, unsurprised to see him waiting for her halfway up.

“I’m going to find them all huddled together in the morning, aren’t I?” he asked, looking back at her just in time to see her secretive smile.

“Probably. I can’t control them though. If they’re old enough to save the world they’re old enough to make some of their own damn decisions.”

“Yeah, you can’t control them,” Steve rolled his eyes and led her back to his room. “Like they aren’t terrified of you or anything.”

“What, like you are?”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Do you want to repeat that while looking me in the eye?”

“…I’d rather not.”

That made her laugh quietly, before moaning slightly as her jaw throbbed. Steve’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took note of just how dark her bruise was getting and held his bedroom door open for her to walk in first.

“You can crash in my room, I’ll take my parents. I’ll get you something to wear and some painkillers…I should have some in my bathroom.” He continued to ramble on, only half aware that Y/N wasn’t fully listening to a word he was saying. She was tracing small patterns onto the blanket that covered his bed, her mind starting to reel as the event from tonight began to settle in.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?” He looked up briefly from the drawer he was rummaging through, and then once more when he registered the look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…well, I don’t…” Steve had seen Y/N look this anxious before, quite a few times in fact, but he had never seen her look like this. Like she was seconds away from breaking down. It scared him more than everything else he had witnessed over the past two years in Hawkins – demodogs included.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Steve crossed the room and sank down to his knees in front of her and took his hands into her own. “What’s wrong? What can I do to help?”

“Can you stay with me?” Her voice was small, and he almost struggled to hear her over the loud laughter coming from downstairs. “I just…I know we’re safe and all now and it's really stupid but I really don’t feel like being alone right now.”

“I’ll stay,” he nodded seriously, not a trace of doubt on his face. “If you need me here, I’ll stay.” He squeezed her hands gently and repressed the sudden urge to kiss her. Instead, he cleared his throat, almost awkwardly, and leaned back slightly on his heels. “Do you want me to go and tell the kids to shut it so you can sleep?”

“No, its fine,” she shook her head slightly, her hair falling over her face. “The boys haven’t seen El – Jane – in over a year. They need this, especially Mike.”

“And you need some sleep,” he pressed a kiss to her knuckles and stood slowly. “I’m just going to ask them to keep it down, I’ll be right back. I promise.” He brushed some of her hair back, mindful of her bruise, and disappeared out of the room. She could only just hear him talking to the kids as she changed out of her clothes and tugged on the things he had given to her. She was in the middle of detangling her hair when Steve wandered back in, slightly out of breath, with a glass of water and a box of painkillers in his hands.

“Did you run back up the stairs?” she eyed him suspiciously as ran her fingers through a particularly big knot.

“Of course not.” The corner of his mouth twitched, a sure sign he was lying to her, and set the glass down next to her. “I’m going to go get changed. Do you…um, side?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and pointed towards the bed. Y/N shook her head slowly, feeling slightly relieved that Steve was feeling just as nervous as she was at sharing a bed. She considered letting him off the hook so he could walk down the hall to his parent’s room to sleep on his own, but being alone after everything that had happened that night was equally unappealing. She knew, logically, that everything was over, that El had closed the gate, and the world was safe, but there was still a small niggling thought in her head that said that it wasn’t over. That this was still only just the beginning and the worst was yet to come.

“Not really,” she shrugged and glanced back at the bed. “You?��

“Nope.” He shook his head and rocked back on his heels momentarily before letting out a small laugh. “Who would have thought we would be the ones acting nervous about sharing a bed?” They both relaxed slightly at his words and Y/N let out a quiet chuckle at how ridiculous they were being.

“We managed when we were five, I think we can manage now,” she climbed in on the left side and shuffled around to get comfortable. “Don’t wake me when you get in.”

“Don’t use hostility as a cover for your anxiety.”

“I’m feeling personally attacked,” she placed a hand on her chest, acting wounded. “This is bullying, I should report you.”

“Yeah, alright,” he rolled his eyes at her and shut the door to his connecting bathroom, effectively ending the conversation. She mimicked him mockingly and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. She knew he didn’t mean what he said, just like he knew exactly what she was doing by acting harshly. She wasn’t as attuned to her emotions like most girls were, which was half of the reason her and Steve got along so easily. The remainder of the equation lay in their parents being friends (friendly seemed like a more appropriate term, seeing as Mrs Y/L/N and Mrs Harrington had been frenemies since they were in school) and their similar senses of humour.

With a small groan, Y/N rolled over so that she was on her back, staring up at the ceiling as she contemplated what the hell her life had turned into. Alternate dimension, monsters, a girl with powers, and the sudden unofficial adoption of six middle-schoolers. The kids were quick to dub her as their mother once Steve had seemingly settled into his dad role, and although she scowled whenever they mentioned it, she didn’t mind it as much as she made out. Her eyes wandered over a blurry outline, wrecking her train of thought. She could only just make out the shape because of the lamp that was still on across the room so she sat up slowly and squinted to get a better look.

“Don’t tell me you forgot that was there.” Steve had walked back into the room while she was too busy looking at the poorly sketched drawing, startling her slightly as he sat down next to her on the bed. “It hasn’t been that long since you drew that.”

“It’s been over ten years,” she rolled her eyes and looked back up at the heart on the ceiling. “I didn’t know it was still there.”

“Of course it’s still there, we made a pact.” He slid under the covers and lay on his back, one hand tucked under his head. “That right there is proof.”

“Proof?”

“What, you don’t want to marry me anymore?” he asked, a small smile on his features. “We made a deal, Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, when we were five,” she rolled her eyes and slid under the covers as well. Neither of them made a move to turn the light off, almost as if they had silently agreed that it was going to stay on. “I didn’t think you were going to hold me to it.”

“You’re my best girl, I still plan on marrying you.” His words echoed the promise they had made nearly thirteen years ago in this very room, where they had come to the logical conclusion that they were going to get married because that meant that they would have to be best friends forever.

“Does that mean I’m stuck with you?”

“Afraid so, sweetheart.” He let out a chuckle as she groaned in fake annoyance. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

“I think hoped is the better alternative.”

“Now that’s just plain rude.”

“Buck up, buttercup,” she turned her head to wink at him, unaware of how close his face actually was to hers. They both pulled away quickly, faces ablaze, as they subtly shuffled away from each other just a little. An awkward silence fell over them, and the all too familiar feeling of anxiety settled in Y/N’s stomach as she realised she was lying in bed with her best friend.

“So…” Steve let out a long breath and turned his head slightly to look at Y/N with what she assumed was meant to be an alluring expression. “You come here often?”

“Did you just…” she blinked once and let out a laugh. “You’re such a dork,” she covered her face to stifle her giggles, completely unaware that Steve was now watching her with a soft smile.

“I feel like I should take offense in your inability to accept my flirting skills.”

“What skills?” she snapped back playfully and brushed some hair away from her eyes.

“I’m feeling personally attacked,” he repeated her words from earlier, catching her hand before she could hit him. “This is definitely bullying. Do I need to have a word with your dad about your behaviour?”

“Now that’s a conversation I would pay to hear,” she shot him a wicked grin. “‘Oh, Sargent Y/L/N’,” she deepened her voice, imitating his drawl. “‘I just want you to know while I was in bed with your daughter she was bullying me relentlessly and not accepting any of my flirtatious advancements’.”

“Ha-ha,” he flicked her nose gently, which did nothing to stop her from laughing. “I don’t have a death wish, thanks.”

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes and flicked him back. “I’ll believe that when it’s been more than seventy-two hours since you used yourself as demo-dog bait.”

“I’m fine, aren’t I?”

“Only because I saved your ass.”

“My hero,” he fluttered his eyelashes, earning another quiet chuckle from her. He grinned every time she laughed, thankful that he was successfully distracting her from the horrors that had been through. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite miss the flicker of pain that went across her face as she accidentally caught her bruise while trying to cover her mouth to muffle her laughter. “I should have killed him.”

“Knock it off, Harrington,” Y/N suppressed an eye roll and flicked his arm gently. “If you think this looks bad you should see what I did to the other guy.” Steve looked unimpressed by the remark and hesitantly reached out to touch the welt.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only when I think about it,” she shrugged, not wanting him to see the pain she was in. He already felt awful enough that Billy had punched her for defending him. She clicked her tongue in annoyance when she saw his expression and placed both of her plans over his face, successfully managing to cover all his annoying, regretful features.

“What are you doing?” his voice was muffled under her hands before he chuckled and pulled them away.

“I’m sick of the guilty act. I chose to kick the shit out of that asshole, you hear me? Now drop the saviour complex before I do the same thing to you.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Because you didn’t know that already?” Y/N breathed out a laugh before letting out a quiet yawn.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” she nodded and moved closer to him so she could steal some of the warmth he seemed to be radiating. “Cuddle me, Harrington.”

“So bossy,” he teased but draped a hesitant arm around her waist anyway. He wouldn’t admit it, but he probably needed the physical contact just as much as she did. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have I thanked you for keeping me alive?”

“Which time?”

“All of them,” he chuckled and kissed the top of her head gently. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Billy would have won, that’s for sure.”

“Way to make me feel better, Y/L/N.”

“Anytime, Harrington,” she smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, carefully avoiding the cuts and bruises that littered his face. “Just promise me you’ll avoid any more fights, at least until your pretty face is better.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Of course, that’s what you took from what I said,” she muttered before placing her head back down in the crook of his neck. “Goodnight Stevie.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Steve’s voice was quiet in the dark room, and he seemed to hesitate for a second before pressing a soft kiss to the bruise on her jaw. She could feel her breath getting caught in her throat at his proximity and just hoped he couldn’t hear, or feel, just how fast her heart was going in that second. Steve Harrington was her best friend, and that’s all they had ever been – all she had ever seen him as – despite what everyone else in Hawkins seemed to think about them. That didn’t mean she was blind though; Steve Harrington was definitely easy on the eyes, and in spite of the reputation he had built for himself at school she knew he had a heart of gold. Not to mention, they had been through a hell of a lot in the past few weeks, which only served to strengthen the unwavering bond between them. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly, his tone uncertain.

“I…” She fell silent, trying to process what she was thinking and feeling with great difficulty as Steve’s fingers traced shapes on the small of her back. “No.” He pulled away fractionally at her word, and even through the dark she could still make out the flush of embarrassment on his face.

“Right, um…right. Goodnight, Y/N.” He tried to turn away so that she couldn’t watch the humiliation flicker across his face, but of course, she wasn’t having it.

“Hey, look at me,” she tugged at his arm gently and made him look at her. “You’re my best friend Steve, sweetest guy I know and you’re pretty as hell, but…”

“But you don’t feel that way, it’s fine.”

“Will you stop?” she placed a hand over his mouth and glared at him. “I was going to say, but you just broke up with Nancy. I’m not going to be some rebound for you.”

“You’re not –” He looked surprised at her train of thought and shook his head adamantly before removing her hand. “I would never. Not to anyone. Especially not you. Never to you.”

“I know,” Y/N smiled wistfully and slowly reached out to grasp his fingers in her own. “But it’s still too soon.”

“Are you just saying this to let me down gently?”

“What? No,” she let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. “I don’t go around punching people to stick up for just anyone, you know.” She tolled her eyes at him and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “A month. One month, and if you still feel the same, then you can kiss me.”

“A month?” He pretended to groan, but quickly grinned and caught her hand as she tried to smack his arm. “A month,” he nodded once, almost to himself. “I can do that. You’re worth the wait.”

“You’re such a cheeseball,” she pretended to groan, but quickly grinned when he let out a loud laugh and pecked her cheek once more.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

“Sweet dreams, Harrington.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things 2 #end of the world #end of the world part one #awkwardauthormasterlist #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthor

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dusk-army-blog · 1 year

Text

Incident

Ever since the incident, I've come to dread the colors. You would, too, if everything was grayscale and a splash of red or a yellow glow meant something was amiss. I don't really remember what things looked like before; yes, there were colorful signs and clothes, but the city has always been kind of gray. I'll look at a shop on the way to work and a part of me knows, "That OPEN sign is neon blue," even though what I see is dull as stone. So, when a person walks by, highlighted in red, when I don't need to remind myself what color something is supposed to be, that's when the dread kicks in. Because it means that it's time to do my job. Being dead sucks.

I... don't remember how it happened. Not exactly. The memories are clear enough before the incident. I stopped by the convenience store on my way home from school. Lots of students were there that day, crowded into a tiny building with a broken air conditioner. I wanted ice cream, but they were out. Settled on cold bottle of cola instead. Anything to beat the heat. The bus wasn't running; I think there was an accident somewhere on the route. Just as well. Who'd want to be crammed into a metal box crawling across the pavement in the middle of summer?

Besides, I had a friend that worked for public works department, so I could take a few shortcuts that weren't available to most people. Turn down an alley, unlock a door to an abandoned construction zone, and voila, three blocks of junk instead of six blocks of traffic. I took shortcuts like that one all the time, but... Well, next thing I knew, I was watching my own funeral. Mom crying. Friends wondering if they could have changed something.

I tried to retrace my steps a few times, to figure out what happened. Best I can come up with is this: there's a factory right next to the shortcut, one of those ugly things from the industrial revolution. There was a plan to tear it down, but no money to do it with. High winds, maybe a bird landing in the wrong spot, whatever the exact reason, some bricks fell off one of the smoke stacks. Clonked me right in the head. Probably. I can't exactly ask, you know? There's no guy in a hood to come tell you it's your time, no angel with a little book recording when and how you died. Really, I wasn't even sure I was dead until I met Gramps.

Actually, I guess I've been lying here. Just a bit. I'm not alive but, technically, I could be deader than I am. At least, that's what Gramps told me. Never got to meet him when I was alive, but I saw pictures so I knew who he was. Big muscles for such an old guy, from a lifetime of work in a steel mill. And, even after death, there's still work to be done, and huge labor shortage for it. Those colors I mentioned, the ones I can still see. They're some kind of interference between the living and the dead, usually vengeful spirits or something like that. Red ones aren't so bad. They're usually angry, kinda stupid even. Easy enough to deal with. But the blue ones? Don't get me started on the blue ones. Being dead sucks, blue glows fill me with terror. But, at least I get to hunt ghosts for an unliving.

#fiction #dream writing #story idea

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trashyswitch · 2 years

Text

Day 9: Unusual Tool

Shawn and Jamie are teasing each other...Then Shawn steals a straw, and starts using it to tickle Jamie. And though it looks weird, it turns out to be SUPER effective.

Day 9 is here! And Happy Thanksgiving to all the Canadians yet again! I'm visiting my grandma and Aunt today. It'll be much calmer than yesterday...that's for sure. We had over 30 people in one crammed up house yesterday...and AAAH! It was so loud! But, I survived.

Shawn was watching a TV show and just chilling on the couch with Jamie. Jamie was drinking up a strawberry milkshake, and occasionally removing the straw so he could pick up some whipped cream.

Shawn looked over at Jamie, and smirked. He brought his finger closer to the whipped cream pile, and dipped his finger in.

Jamie opened his eyes, and froze with his straw still in his mouth. He watched carefully as Shawn took a fingerful of the whipped cream from Jamie, and shoved it into his own mouth.

Jamie narrowed his eyes and turned to look at Shawn. He stared at Shawn with his eyes super narrow and his eyebrows super frowny.

Shawn bursted out laughing the moment he saw Jamie. “Whahat?”

Jamie leaned his head closer to Shawn, and poked Shawn with the straw on the neck, while it was still in his own mouth.

“hEY- DUDE!” Shawn yelled, stealing the straw right out of his mouth. Shawn smirked as he rubbed the germs off the straw. “Got it. Mine now.”

Jamie looked at Shawn with annoyance. ‘Why?’

Shawn rolled his eyes and turned back to the TV.

But Jamie wasn’t done with him yet…He still wanted his straw back.

Jamie gave Shawn’s side a kick.

Shawn looked at him. Jamie showed him his hand, silently ordering him to give back the straw.

But Shawn ignored him.

Jamie frowned and kicked him on the elbow this time, a couple seconds later.

Shawn ignored him again.

Jamie kicked his thigh with his heel another couple seconds later.

Shawn ignored him yet again.

Jamie was about to kick him again…

But then Shawn suddenly grabbed Jamie’s ankle without even looking to see where his hand was going.

Jamie widened his eyes and tried to tug his ankle loose. But Shawn was having none of it.

Jamie narrowed his eyes at him. ‘Let go.’ Jamie signed.

Shawn huffed. “No.” Shawn replied.

Jamie audibly growled. ‘Let. Go.’

Shawn smirked. “No.” Shawn replied.

Jamie tried to kick Shawn with the other foot…but Shawn sat on Jamie’s other foot. Jamie widened his eyes again, and tugged on his other foot…But it was quite stuck under Shawn.

“Are you done being a pain in my ass?” Shawn asked.

Jamie looked up at him…and smiled at him. He lifted up his middle finger towards Shawn.

“That’s it.” Shawn started skittering his fingers all over Jamie’s foot.

Jamie widened his eyes and threw himself back, covering his mouth.

Shawn smirked as he moved up to the toes…then down to the heels. Back to the toes…then back to the heels.

Jamie was shaking his head, tugging on his feet as much as he could. He removed his hand from his mouth in order to sign. ‘STOP!’ He signed.

Shawn chuckled and shook his head: “never.”

Jamie let out a silent whimper as he tugged on both his feet. But one was temporarily stuck under Shawn’s butt, and the other was stuck in Shawn’s hand.

“You know what would make this situation more funny?” Shawn asked with a wide smirk.

Jamie narrowed his eyes at Shawn. ‘Don’t.’ he warned.

Shawn smiled and put the straw into his mouth. He started blowing some air through the straw, and onto the sole of Jamie’s foot.

Jamie laid against his back and bursted out laughing. Though his voice did not make a sound…It didn’t need to. Jamie’s visual reactions were more than helpful.

Shawn watched carefully as Jamie’s toes curled and uncurled in an attempt to cover up his vulnerable feet. The hard part was, Jamie couldn’t get this item off his feet. The tool that was tickling him was invisible, and impossible to interact with…

…And his toes could only cover up so much…

Jamie didn’t really know what to do with his hands at first. But he quickly began to sign protests and pleads to stop.

Shawn couldn’t help but chuckle at Jamie’s struggling. It was honestly really funny to see such a put-together man like Jamie, completely crumble just from a little bit of air on his feet.

Then, Shawn removed the straw from his mouth. He cleaned the ends of the straw, and smirked as he looked at Jamie.

‘Do you see how gross that is?!’ Jamie signed.

Shawn just laughed. “Do I look like I care?” Shawn teased.

Jamie gave him an ‘are you serious’ face in response. ‘You have tasted my spit.’ Jamie told him.

Shawn chuckled. “So?”

Jamie visibly gagged. ‘Gross.’

Shawn rolled his eyes and started using the straw to scratch his soles. “Shut up and laugh, dapper germaphobe.”

Jamie covered his mouth and tried to hide his need to laugh. He tried so hard. He was NOT going to let him be satisfied.

But then Shawn did something EVIL…

He cleaned the bottom end of the straw…put the top part of the straw into his mouth…and then shoved the straw under Jamie’s toes. With the straw in place, Shawn started blowing into the straw. Little bits of air started tickling under Jamie’s sensitive little toes.

Jamie’s smile grew wider than his hands could cover. You could easily see the edges of Jamie’s smile beside his thumbs.

‘Stop!’ Jamie signed.

Shawn smirked as he breathed in some more air through his nose to keep blowing air onto his toes.

Jamie removed his hands from his mouth and silently laughed with a big, toothy smile. He was just way too ticklish for this.

Shawn smirked as he watched Jamie wiggle his foot around and laugh as he tried to sign things like ‘You are so gross!’, ‘Stop it!’ and ‘Not my toes!’. Shawn just found it endearing seeing Jamie all giggly like this. It was just too fun to stop.

“...*Ahem*…” Someone said nearby.

Shawn choked for a second, and just about spat some saliva through the straw and onto Jamie’s toes. Shawn looked over at the location of the voice, with the straw still in his mouth and Jamie’s foot still in his hand. “Hm-” Shawn removed the straw from his mouth. “Chase! Hi…”

Jamie was slowly calming down from being tickled. But when he looked at Chase for only a few moments…he quickly looked away with a bright, red blush on his face.

Chase looked at them with a mix of confusion, and disappointment. “Is…this a new type of foot fetish?” Chase asked.

Shawn’s face morphed into a look of disgust. “What- Ew, no!” Shawn replied.

Jamie pulled his own foot out of Shawn’s grip. ‘I was drinking a smoothie…then he stole my straw and proceeded to TiCkLe me with the straw of all things.’ Jamie explained.

Chase tilted his head and repeated the sign for tickle. “...What’s this word again?” Chase asked. “It’s something like ‘back scratch’…isn’t it?”

Jamie rolled his eyes and got off the couch. He walked himself up to Chase, and tickled Chase’s sides for a couple seconds.

Chase squealed. “Oho GOHOD-” Chase quickly grabbed Jamie’s hands to keep them away from him. “No. No tickling.” Chase warned.

Jamie blinked at him a couple times…then did the wiggly fingers to show what he was meaning.

Chase raised an eyebrow. “That was not a back scratch. That was a side scratch, and it tickled a lot.” Chase told him.

Shawn groaned. “The sign means TICKLE, YOU IDIOT!” Shawn yelled.

Jamie hung his head for a couple seconds…then looked up and nodded. ‘I was drinking a smoothie…and Shawn stole my straw and started tickling my feet with the straw.’ Jamie explained.

Chase began to put together the sentence for himself. “...Blowing air through a straw onto a person’s foot…was his form of tickling you?” Chase asked.

Jamie guffawed. ‘I TOLD YOU it was weird!’ Jamie signed at Shawn. ‘But YOU didn’t listen!’

“Oi! Says the one who started poking me with the straw!” Shawn argued.

‘You started it by stealing my whipped cream!’ Jamie signed back.

…and while Shawn and Jamie continued to argue, Chase took this time to grab a straw of his own and feel the air blow through the straw and onto his own hand.

Huh…Perhaps that could work…

“Hey Shawn.” Chase called.

“-DIDN’T YOU CONSI- What?” Shawn asked, pausing his argument.

Chase smiled and walked up to the back of Shawn’s neck. Then, Chase took in a big breath and blew some air onto Shawn’s neck.

Shawn visibly shivered and curled his neck back as he let out many high-pitched giggles.

Then Shawn uncurled his neck and widened his eyes. “Oh my god…” He reacted.

Chase widened his own eyes and smiled a little bit. “Does it actually tickle?!” Chase asked.

Shawn blinked and pointed to his own neck. “Do it again.” Shawn told him.

Chase was taken aback by this request. But…he did it anyway. Chase blew some more air out of the straw and onto Shawn’s neck.

Shawn snorted and giggled. “Eeehehehehehehe! Yeheheah, ihihihit dohoes.” Shawn told him.

Chase was smiling widely at this point. “Alright…Okay, this isn’t as weird as I thought it was.” Chase told him.

“Newsflash: This is NOT a fetish! This is a new form of tickling. And it fucking works!” Shawn told him.

“But you can only do it, if you happen to have a straw on you…and only for a couple seconds. Because…looking at you and Jamie just now…” Chase winced. “It looked like I walked in on a highly intimate act.” Chase admitted.

Shawn tsked, before grabbing the straw right out of Chase’s hand and poking him in the stomach with the straw. “It’s about as intimate as your tea bag obsession.” Shawn clapped back.

Shawn gasped dramatically. “How DARE you make fun of my tea bags!” Chase reacted.

Shawn chuckled. “With your obsession with tea bags, it’s a wonder you’re not British like Jameson.” Shawn added.

“Well at least I’m not some lower-class worker who got fired for fucking up a couple dolls.” Chase muttered.

Shawn guffawed. “And at least I’M not the one who couldn’t understand the sign for ‘tickle, and had to be tickled to understand…” Shawn added. “And you DIDN’T! You had to hear it from ME!” Shawn added next.

“Alright, smartass.” Chase took the straw from Shawn’s hand and started blowing air through the straw and all over Shawn’s neck.

Shawn burst into giggles and moved his head around all over the place to cover up his neck. Then, Chase removed the straw from his own mouth and lifted up Shawn’s shirt. Eager to REALLY get the man laughing, Chase shoved the straw into Shawn’s belly button and blew into it.

Shawn SCREAMED and threw his head back, laughing hysterically. He kicked his feet, and struggled to get the straw out of his belly button. “NOHOHO FAHAHAHAIR! NOHO FAHAHAIR!” Shawn yelled.

Jamie smirked as he signed something. ‘Karma is a bitch.’

Chase stopped tickling to look up at Jamie. “What did you just sign?”

Shawn looked at Jamie as well.

Jamie visibly paled. ‘Karma…is a bitch?’

…and what’s how Jamie ended up being wrecked by 2 childish boys and their secret weapons: the straws.

#tickletober2022 #day 9 #unusual tool #straws #ticklefic #ler!chase #switch!shawn #lee!jamie

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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

Text

mattheo riddle | focus.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: you thought you were just going to have a peaceful night with your boyfriend, cuddling while watching the newest episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. you thought.

WORD COUNT: 4.1k. (i’m sorry?)

TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, praise kink, some teasing, matty being an absolute dawg per usual, unable to keep those delicious hands to himself, maybe like the tiniest bit of degradation, fingering, multiple orgasm, PIV, doggy/prone-bone, um yeah the usual filth i provide.

DEDICATION: this was a little bday gift for my lovely friend @pizzaapeteer🤍 hope u had the best day bbygirl ilysm!

"Matt," you exhaled your boyfriends name, leisurely rubbing your tired eyes. "...any minute now, please."

A muffled yawn from inside the bathroom was the only outward sign of his acknowledgment before he appeared in the doorframe--like a vision materializing from a dream. Your groggy eyes clung to his shadow, watching as he lazily sauntered toward you--looking cozy, yet as exhausted as ever.

It’d been a busy day for you both, between his quidditch tournament finally drawing to a close and your ruthless potions exam--you’d found yourselves lacking routine, your schedules treacherously out of sync--because not only had you not seen each other since this morning, the way the day had started was frantic enough to send your mood into sours so intense it’d make a fucking lemon grimace.

There was no cuddles, no intimate shower time, and certainly no morning sex. The only bout of intimacy Mattheo was able to steal from you was a quick peck on the cheek before you scurried out the door, desperate to cram in as much studying as you could.

It was safe to say that by this point, the two of you were fucking spent, slightly annoyed, and most certainly, drained. And all you’d been thinking about--for the entirety of your day, was getting to snuggle, catch the latest episode of your favourite muggle/guilty-pleasure show, preceded by dozing off embraced within your boyfriend’s loving arms.

"Look, I love you and all, but can't we watch something else?" He was so utterly unenthused you'd think you were forcing him to watch paint dry, his expressions a mirror to his tone as he combed a hand through his hair. "Something that maybe won't give me a bloody headache."

Messy chocolate curls framing brooding brown eyes, grey sweatpants and a black hoodie was all that it took to make you rethink your plans for the evening. It was clear to you, almost immediately, that Mattheo wasn’t as deterred by the craziness of the day as you were. You could see that twinkle in his eye, that hunger barred behind cheeky grins and teasing words.

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip in attempt to quell your smirk. "Oh, come on, Mattheo," you teased, shifting on the comforter to make space for him beside you. "You know deep down you love the drama. That's practically your middle name."

"If I'm being completely honest," your boyfriend scoffed, settling into bed beside you. "I'd probably enjoy it more if we turned the volume off."

Your face flushed with warmth as Mattheo immediately drew you into him, one arm slipping under your head while the other coasted a light path up your thigh. A pair of lips pressed to your neck, wet and soft against your aching skin, igniting bliss to burn a scorching heat in your belly. Against your better judgement and instigated by a force well beyond your control, you sighed--exhausted lids fluttering shut as you revelled in the warmth his presence evoked within you.

It right was then, that you knew--as instinctual as breathing--that simply watching your show and going to bed wasn’t going to be enough for your boyfriend. Of course you wanted him--wanted him just as bad as he wanted you--but your exhaustion was prevailing, and therefore, so was your brattiness.

He was going to have to be patient. He was going to have to work for it.

So with a sharp inhale, and in an honest attempt to avoid the volcano of desire before it erupted irrevocably, you turned your back to him--seeking refuge from the imminent intoxication that came along with your boyfriend's perfect lips.

"Wow, Matty," you teased, "and here I was actually considering letting you be the little spoon for once..." you fixed your sight on the TV, fighting to ignore his touch on your hip. "Guess you'll just have to be the big spoon all night."

Mattheo's chuckle rumbled against your back as he tightened his embrace, his warmth enveloping you completely. His lips brushed against your ear, and you could practically hear the exhaustion in his tone, his voice as rough as gravel.

"That's not the punishment you thought it'd be, princess," he murmured, the cheeky grin on his lips practically audible, each syllable tickling the back of your neck as he spoke. "This just gives me something far more interesting to focus on than that dumb show of yours."

You couldn't stop yourself from tsking him, a giggle escaping your lips as you gently pulled his wandering fingers away from your backside, intertwining them with your own. This was one of the many things you adored about him—the way he couldn't seem to keep his hands off you whenever you were together.

"Nuh-uh, Mattheo Riddle--your focus is on the show," your attempt to scold him was warring with the need to keep your voice steady, playfully tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze. "I know you're just dying to find out who said what behind whose back, aren't you?”

Mattheo huffed, an exhale of pure amusement. A certain intoxicating devilism that you knew all-too-damn-well twinkled in his honeyed irises as he caught your gaze, scorching heat over your skin.

"I'm dying for something, undoubtedly," his arm beneath your head curled inward, large palm finding a handful of your breast and kneading it. Before you could react, his lips graced your earlobe, and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling it, forcing an eminent whimper to flee your throat. "And it's not that."

Involuntarily, you groaned--a noise of pure restraint--your other hand moving up to tug his fervent fingers away from your chest. It took every ounce of your willpower to hold back a sigh of desperation as you mentally reminded yourself of your prior mantra.

Make him be patient. Make him work for it.

"Matty, quit being a brat," you muttered, playful scolding tracing your tone. You honestly couldn't believe you'd just said that. "We’ve both had such a long day…let’s just watch this and goto sleep, yeah?"

His response was a low, rumbling murmur, his voice thick with desire as he turned his head toward the television, his fingers still for the moment.

"You're so right, baby," he conceded, his breath warm against your neck. "I'm just watching the show. I don't even know what you're--"

"Mattheo," you interjected, a hint of warning in your tone, and he let out an exaggerated huff, falling silent. After a moment, you giggled at him. "Salazar help you."

Even without seeing his face, you could practically hear the cheeky grin on his perfect lips spreading from ear to goddamn ear. You were certain he was seeing right through you.

"Alright, alright, I'll behave," he said, though his voice betrayed him. There wasn't one ounce of sincerity in those devastatingly deep cords. "Would you just like, stop squirming, though? It's distracting."

You rolled your eyes. Gods, how you wanted to smack him while simultaneously kissing his perfect, annoying face. "Matt, I literally haven't moved."

Mattheo shrugged, his breathy chuckle washing over your neck, his eyes now fixed on the TV. As the two of you settled into stillness, you exhaled--his playful antics never failed to humour you, a reminder of the delightful chaos that came with dating this messy, yet undeniably wonderful boy. Sometimes, it truly felt like living in your own reality TV show, though you wouldn't have it any other way.

Nestled in his embrace, a sense of tranquility washed over you as you immersed yourself in the drama that this weeks episode had to offer. However, as the clock ticked on and the show progressed, you could feel Mattheo's restlessness grow stronger behind you.

His movements were subtle at first--a shift here, a slight adjustment there, but soon enough, his hands began to wander after breaking free from your hold, tracing delicate patterns along your skin. Despite your efforts to remain focused on the show, the sensation of his touch was relentless, subtle ministrations laced with clear intent that had you distracted from the TV without much effort.

"Mattheo," you whispered, trying to sound stern but failing as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

"Shh, princess," he cooed, voice so sweet it was sugar incarnate. "We're watching the show, aren't we?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his teasing, but before you could protest further, his hand moved to roam along the curve of your waist, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your breath caught in your throat, his touch igniting a familiar spark between you, threatening to engulf you both in a different kind of drama altogether--one that had absolutely nothing to do with the show on the television.

And you longed to utter something, anything--longed to form some semblance of coherent speech--but words would simply elude you as Mattheo's hand continued its eager exploration, mapping every inch of your curves as it started trailing its way from your hip down your thigh and back up, softly rolling his hips against your backside.

Somehow, throughout all this, you kept your eyes focused on the screen in front of you--hardly even daring to blink--though your mind was monopolized by the feeling of his calloused palm catching on the fabric of your leggings, the way his fingernails dug into your flesh as he gripped your hip, gripped your thigh, gripped your waist--anywhere his hungry hand could find purchase.

"I want you," his voice was a breath on your neck, his grip bruising your hip as he bucked into you. "So fucking bad."

You whined from lust, your vision fogged by need. His words sent heat straight to your cunt. "Matt..."

"I know, baby," his tongue drew a wet line up the side of your neck toward your ear, and he whispered into it. "Watch the show. Just let me take care of you.”

A lump formed in your throat, your mind so clouded with desire that forming a coherent response seemed impossible, your teeth clawing at your bottom lip to prevent any sounds from slipping out as his other hand moved to grope your chest, kneading your breast within his palm.

Your entire body was in flame, and the truth hung heavy in the air--of course, you wanted him just as desperately as he wanted you, and were more than willing to abandon the show and lose yourself in his touch--but it was frustrating, maddening even, how effortlessly he could disarm you, even while exhausted.

A mere whisper, a few tender touches, and you were putty in his hands, melting under his gaze. So much for making him work for it.

Mattheo hummed and bit the tender flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking an angry, puckering red mark into it while he continued to grind against your ass, his throbbing desire jabbing you, seeking friction.

"Keep those eyes on the screen, baby." Gods, that bastard. That beautiful fucking bastard. Impossible to resist, completely useless to attempt to ignore. "Forget that I'm even here, yeah?"

A whimper escaped your lips, a tacit admission of how adeptly Mattheo had unraveled you, his touch igniting a starving fervour that coiled tight within you. He possessed an uncanny ability to unravel your defenses, leaving you malleable and pliant under his fingertips, consumed by an overwhelming need that pulsed with every beat of your heart.

"That's..." the words died on your tongue as he kissed your neck again--one hand moving to slip underneath your shirt and the other bruising your hip with his grip, pulling you closer against him. "...impossible."

"Oh, is it?" a pleased huff escaped him, his curls tickling the sensitive skin below your ear as he buried his face against it, teeth grazing your pulse. "Are you saying you can't multitask, baby? You want me to stop-"

"No," you cried out without hesitation as he finally glided up your stomach and slipped under your bra, thumb brushing against your nipple. "I...I can do both."

"Mhm, yeah you can," he purred, five slender digits slipping down to caress between your thighs, grazing over your mound and resting there for a moment, feeling your heat through your leggings. "You can do both because you're my good fucking girl, aren't you?"

His tone was intoxicating, the teasing and gentle praise melding together, creating a concoction brewed with the sole purpose of making your fucking head spin. Each word he uttered seemed to fan the flames of desire within you. Your teeth dug into your lower lip, wanting to plug as many noises as possible, his mouth moving from below your ear and slithering up to the line of your jaw.

Gathering yourself with a sharp inhale, you nodded. "Yes, Matty, I am..."

One hand shifted to your other breast and he groaned against your cheek, flooding your flesh with warmth as his fingers kneaded it, thumb twirling over the sensitive bud, erection grinding against you with another harsh snap of his hips.

"You are what, baby..." he muttered, burying his face back into the crook of your neck, his thick hair soft on your skin. "Wanna' hear you say it."

Another whimper escaped you, loud and shameless as his hand between your thighs shifted slightly, pressing against your clit for a moment before releasing pressure. You knew what he was after. You knew he wasn't going to give you what you wanted until he got it.

"I'm..." you choked on your breath, forcing the rest of the words past your teeth. "I'm your good girl, Matty."

Your arousal surged to dizzying heights, eclipsing any awareness of the television's presence in the room. Your focus had been hijacked, seized by the insatiable force of the hungry heathen at your back.

"Yeah, that's right, baby," Mattheos fingers sprung to action again, dragging the pads of his pointer and middle tantalizingly slow along your slit, teasing you through your leggings, your back arching instinctively as you fought the urge to grind against his touch. "Say it again for me."

You growled in frustration, feeling the heat blaze over your skin as his breath ghosted over your neck. Inhaling sharply, you fought to gather whatever shreds of sanity remained within you.

"Your good fucking girl, Matty," you declared, the words dripping with equal parts hunger and desperation. "All yours. Only yours."

Mattheo's response was a low, guttural growl of approval, his grip tightening possessively as he pulled you closer against him. His teeth dug into your shoulder as he finally sprung into action, hand on a hunt, tracking up to find the band of your leggings and slipping beneath it.

"That's fucking right," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "All mine.”

Without wasting another second he slid two digits along your slit, pulling apart your slick folds and dragging the rough pads of his fingers over your clit--maddeningly slow. His grip on your breast tightened, breath leaving his lungs in shallow grunts as fervour engulfed him--engulfed you, engulfed the room and set it in flame.

"All yours." you whimpered, nodding.

"My good fucking girl, always so wet for me--so eager, hm?" Your moans filled the room as he took those two thick fingers and slid them into your cunt, the feel of your walls stretching around him igniting a quiet groan from his throat. "All day without this pussy and you really expect me to be able to keep my fucking hands off you? You're all I've been thinking about..."

Then, his thumb was on your clit while he curled his digits inside of you, stroking that sweet spot of raised flesh, your trembling hands flailing to find his arms, fingers digging into his skin, grounding you as though he was your lifeline, your anchor in the rough sea of pleasure he was providing.

"Gods, Matty." Your lids were squeezed tight, lips pinched together, rubbing your head against his as the heat from his mouth grew sweat on your neck. "You're all I--ah--all I think about too..."

Mattheo groaned again, working fast, building the pressure inside of you in record speed, warm heat rushing out over your skin. Your walls throbbed around him, heart a rabid animal barred beneath your sternum, and he added a third digit, pinching your nipple with his other hand--sending stars shooting behind your lids.

"My good girl isn't focusing on the show, is she?" His voice was the tantalizing depth of a black hole, sucking you into his orbit. You forced your eyes open. "You wanna' cum you better start focusing, princess."

Your brain was short circuiting--your mind fogged by a desire so intense it eclipsed any awareness of the television before you. Though your eyes registered its presence in the room, its glow seemed distant and hazy, as if it existed in separate realm from the searing heat encompassing you. You glimpsed it, focused on it, but your brain couldn't quite grasp its purpose as the only thing that held any significance in your consciousness was the sensation of your boyfriend's fingers, relentlessly driving you closer and closer to the edge of euphoria.

"That's better." He hummed, lips pecking at your cheek. "So good for me," his fingers scissored inside you, thumb increasing its pace on your clit. "So, so good."

Your ears rang, your sight blurring. You were so fucking close. "Matty, fuck—I'm gonna-"

Your boyfriend groaned. "Cum for me, baby."

Without needing any further instruction, the coil of pressure inside of you burst, exploding through your skin and enveloping you in a hot, convulsing warmth--you were crying out, cumming hard around him, your walls clamping down on his fingers, pulling him into your body as you pulsed and throbbed with pleasure. You thought you'd kept your eyes open, though you couldn't entirely be sure as your sight blanked, your consciousness consumed by a days worth of pent up sexual energy.

As Mattheo slowly withdrew his hand from beneath your leggings and distanced himself slightly, his voice carried a palpable strain. "Turn over, facing the TV."

Confusion flickered across your features as you blinked, glancing over your shoulder at him. "What?"

"Face the TV, on your stomach," he repeated, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of desperation. "Please."

You watched as he palmed his throbbing, angry erection through the fabric of his grey sweats, and every single nerve ending in your body roared to life again. Still buzzing with the remnants of your climax, you quickly moved, shifting onto your stomach and facing the TV like he asked, unable to shake the boiling anticipation churning within your core.

You could feel Mattheo's dark eyes boring holes into your flesh, searing the seams of your skin as he shifted up onto his knees and moved between your legs behind you. Two strong hands gripped your thighs, and you tried to peer at him over your shoulder before he tsked you playfully.

"Focus on the screen, baby." There’s that sweet voice again. Sweet like honey oozing off his lips. “Be good.”

Your boyfriend was methodical, moving without urgency even though you knew that he was more than vibrating with it. Leaning down, he pressed soft kisses along the back of your thighs, slowly journeying upward, tracing a path to the curve of your ass cheek where he playfully sank his teeth into the plump flesh, eliciting a shudder that rippled through your body.

You suppressed a moan, the sound caught in your throat as his hands found purchase, kneading and groping the sensitive flesh between his digits.

“Matty..."

A low hum of satisfaction reverberated against your skin as he continued his exploration, his fingers deftly hooking around the band of your leggings and underwear. With a teasing tug, he began to pull them down your thighs, revealing the fresh expanse of your skin inch by tantalizing inch.

"Shh," he cooed. “Beautiful girl.”

The breath in your chest was a rapid circle, your entire body trembling with desperation. The moment your pants were off, you felt Mattheo's hands shifting to his own, a soft groan escaping him as he freed himself from the confining material. Without hesitation, he loomed over you, his presence dominating as he leaned forward to snake a hand around your throat, forcing your head in place, facing the TV as he aligned himself with your centre.

"Since you're having trouble focusing, I'll help you," his fingers wrapped around your jaw, his breath hot on your ear. "My good fuckin' girl."

A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. You felt him glide the head of his cock between your thighs, slicking himself in the wetness he'd caused, teasing you with false thrusts before he finally pushed in, spearing you open with one long, deep, slow thrust.

"Fuck." His breath was a hidden hiss through his teeth as you groaned, walls clenching around his cock. "Been waiting all day for this, baby. Fuckin’ tight little pussy."

His grip intensified on your jaw, his breath washing warm over your ear as he pulled out slowly and slammed back in. You couldn't think, couldn't speak--brain already cock-drunk, inebriated by lust.

"Matty," you gasped, gripping the wrist to the hand holding your head in place. "Fuck."

"Mhm, that's right," his voice was shattered, his tone strained against his throat. Each thrust was deeper, harder, faster than the last one, his curls tickling your cheek as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck--warm, wet lips pressing against your pulse. "So fucking tight. Fuck, I missed this--fuckin’ missed you."

You whimpered, struggling with every ounce of your existence to keep your eyes open, to remain focused on the glowing box infront of you--but you weren't even sure if Mattheo cared much about that anymore. Even without seeing his face you knew he was above you, looking down--teeth barred, jaw tensed and pupils blown wide with lust.

You knew he was just as gone as you were.

"Fuck," Mattheo snarled, fucking deeper, his hips smacking against your ass with every angry thrust, drowning out the sounds of the show. His hand moved under your belly, reaching for your clit and quickly connecting with it, causing you to writhe and spasm against his hold. "How's that feel, princess."

Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you bordered on the very edge of exploding.

"Fuck," you replied, as though it was the only word that you seemed capable of reliably saying. "Fuck—good, Matty...so good..."

"That's right," he muttered. "You're so beautiful like this, so fucking perfect." He held you fast, pounding your cunt, catching groans in his throat. "You have no idea what you do to me."

You groaned. His words alone were enough to make your head spin. "Fuck—"

Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick fucking you deep. His weight pinned you to the mattress, his hand holding your head firm as he growled in your ear with each harsh thrust, pent up sexual tension pouring off of him and threatening to drown you beneath it.

"Mhm. Little slut. Dumbed out on my cock." A low moan left you, the heat and friction and feverish thrusts sending your sanity to space. His fingers circled your clit faster, and you tweaked, eyes rolling. "Poor thing couldn't even focus on the screen if she tried, could she?"

"No—fuck, I can't." Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. "I—I wanna' cum for you, Matty...please..."

"Go ahead, princess." He cooed. "Cum for me."

You clamped down on his swollen length, your orgasm cleaving you in half as you shook with euphoria, heat and pleasure tearing all the way to your fingertips and toes. Mattheo keened, grip on your jaw turning almost painfully tight as he groaned and drove into you with a final thrust, cum spilling into you, hips snapping while he convulsed with the tremors of his falling climax.

The room was spinning, your bodies stuck with sweat, every breath of air too hot, too thick with sex. Your boyfriend's face was still nestled into your neck, and, exhausted too, you let your head be entirely supported by his hand, exhaling a long, trembling breath.

After a moment, Mattheo rolled off and slumped down onto the mattress beside you, grinning. “Good thing we can just rewind, hm?”

You grinned, letting out a breathy laugh as he pulled you into his chest. “You’re something else, Mr. Riddle.”

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xexiar · 1 year

Text

Keep Watching. Ch 5

Ch4 Ao3

---

Chapter 5

After another long weekend of dad teaching me to cook, it was the first day of 8th grade. I wonder what nonsense I would have to deal with now. Especially since this is my last year with worthless nobodies at my middle school. All I have to do is keep my grades up as I prepare for the UA entrance exams. Based all everything I learned from the cram schools, I have an idea of what was needed of me.

As I walked, I could feel I was being followed. At that, the recognizable mumbling told me enough about who it was. I still don’t get how we always end up in the same school and class. It was so annoying. But I know for a fact he won’t be able to follow me into high school. I will be leaving that nerd behind where he belongs. After all, I’m going to be the number one hero. Just wait and see, Deku.

After the rest of the extras left, I turned to Deku. “Just give up, nerd. There’s no way you’ll get into UA.” With that, I grabbed him by his shirt and threw him against the wall. That’s when I saw one of those damn notebooks of his and picked it up. As I looked through it, I saw how he had written notes about today’s villain attack.

Deku is such a nerd. It was when I saw the first few pages that made my face burn. Notes about my quirk, along with a drawing. What the hell? Especially reading a small note saying that Kacchan was awesome. I took one more look over his notes on me before exploding the notebook. “Kacchan!”

I tossed the notebook out the window, and thankfully it landed in the school’s koi pound. Which put out the flames that my explosion made. With that out the way, I refocused my attention on Deku. “Just give it up, nerd. You’ll never be a hero. Especially since you’re quirkless, Deku.”

I watched as Deku shakingly stood up and guard himself. “You don’t know that Kacchan. I can still be a hero without a quirk.” Damn it, Deku. I punched him back down, but he kept trying to get up. Why won’t you just stay down?

“You’ll never be a hero! Better yet.” I couldn’t help but smirk. “How about you take a swan dive off the roof? Maybe you’ll get a quirk. In your next life.” As I said that, as angry as I was, I also felt sad. Why didn’t he give up on our childhood dream? Damn it, Deku. I’ll become a hero. Maybe then you’ll just stop.

“You don’t know that.” Seeing the tears on his face hurt. But why doesn’t he understand I’m doing this for the both of us? He’s weak and needs to be reminded that some things are just impossible. I gave him one more punch to knock him down. With that, me, Kato, and Saito started to walk out of the room. “I will be a hero.”

“What?” When I looked back at Deku, he had his hands up. So pathetic. But just as I walked near the staircase, I realized what I just said. With that, I rushed back to the class. Oh, please! Please Deku! I hope you didn’t take me seriously. When I entered the class, there was no sign of that nerd. I rushed to the window and looked down. He was nowhere in sight. So, I quickly ran to the other set of stairs and ran as hard as I could to the roof.

My heart stunk as I looked all over the roof. It was hard to breathe as I made sure that Deku was nowhere in sight. I was more relieved when I spotted him getting his notebook out of one of the school’s koi ponds on the ground level. “Are you ok, Bakugou?” I looked to the roof door and saw Kato and Saito. Taking in deep breaths, I tried to calm my racing heart. I waved them off, letting them know I would catch up in a moment.

As I walked with the guys, they chatted back and forth about how they didn’t get why Deku even tries. It’s the same conversation every time. How they don’t get how Deku and I were ever childhood friends. They question why he still calls me by the childhood name he gave me. But of course, they will never understand. Like how much I enjoy the fact that he still called me Kacchan. No other name would feel right coming from him. At that, during 1st grade, I have beaten everyone who dared call him Deku. Only I get to call him that.

Before long, these extras were annoying with how they kept bringing Deku. “Don’t you talk about anything else?” They just looked at me and then left. With that, I decided to go down one of the many allies. I just need to clear my head. After everything that happened today, I wasn’t ready to go home.

I can’t believe this. It was so hard to breathe as I tried to get this damn sliming thing off me. But it was no use. It was hard to keep fighting as it covered my mouth. “Kacchan!” Deku!

I tried to see where that sound came from. To my horror, it was Deku. No! Stay away. There’s no way you can save me. But for some reason, he kept getting up. He even reached out to me. I should grab his hand. NO! That would mean I’m weak, and he saved me. I can’t let that happen. So, I kept my hand to myself.

I watched as he cried, but still trying to save me. What is wrong with this nerd? Why doesn’t he give up? He’s weak but still fighting. Then the guy tossed Deku back. Please, stay down. Deku weakly tried to get back up. But within a blink of an eye, everything was over. And standing next to me was All Might.

As a hero asked if I was ok, I completely ignored him. All I could focus on was how Deku was being lectured for being reckless. Damn it, Deku. I then tried to look for All Might, but he seemed to have just vanished. But it was pointless.

When I got home, I was surprised to see that my parents were waiting for me. “Are you ok, son?” Dad tried to come forward, but mom got in the way. It then became like usual. Mom started to yell at me. She went off how why didn’t I fight back. Or at least run away.

“Just drop it, old hag!” With that, I stormed my way to my room and locked it. The moment I was alone, I sat on my bed. I took out the card from my pocket. Sad how I didn’t get a chance to ask for an autograph. But then I looked at my All Might doll. That night I held him as I fell asleep. With my last thought being how I needed to have a word with Deku.

…

Today was the first I get to train under All Might. Making sure I packed an extra set of PE clothes, I got ready for school. When I walked into the kitchen for a quick breakfast, I saw that mom had already left for the day. After yesterday, I’m surprised she had the energy to go to work today.

The school went like always. Some kids talked among themselves, making it hard to hear the teacher. A few kids threw paper balls at me while calling me names. Nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing that was strange was how calm Kacchan seemed. He was still being cocky when he answered the teacher. He’s so smart. There’s nothing he can’t do.

Once class was over, I rushed to get my things to leave. The class was practically empty now, besides me and Kacchan. Just as I started heading to the door, Kacchan got in my way. “Kacchan, I’m in a hurry. So, please move.”

“Shut it, nerd.” Kacchan grabbed me by the collar of my uniform. “You shouldn’t have pulled that stunt yesterday.” He then pushed me to the ground. As he stood above me, my face started to burn. Even when he’s being intimidating, he’s so cool. “You could have gotten hurt, idiot!”

At that moment, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He shouldn’t worry about me. Especially when he was the one in danger, and I was trying to fix my mistake. “It didn’t matter. I just couldn’t see you get hurt.” Kacchan growled as sparks came off his hands.

“You should learn your place.” Just as he was about to hit me, I nearly escaped. With that small moment, I made my way out the door. I just kept running as I could hear Kacchan in the distance. “Get back here! Deku, you’re pissing me off!” Turning the corner, I saw one of the school’s trashcans. I stopped in front of it. As Kacchan ran toward me, I tried to keep my breath and waited for my chance. The moment he was close enough, I tipped over the trashcan and made a run for it. “Damn it!”

…

I still can’t believe that nerd ran from me. What is so important that he didn’t face me? For the last week and a half, it has been the same thing. I would try to confront him, and Deku would somehow escape me. He never runs away. So, whatever it was, I needed to find out. What am I thinking? Why do I even care?

As I walked home, I wondered what I should do. After all, I had almost 10 months to get ready for UA entrance exam, and I was worried about a nerd. I should put more focus on finishing those elite cram classes.

When I got home, I was surprised to see that dad was home. I looked to see where mom was. “She won’t be home for another hour. Do you want to help me out?”

“Sure.” As I helped dad prep the ingratiates for tonight’s dinner, I was lost in thought. Something about doing stuff with dad was very calming. Especially when it came to cooking. I don’t know why, but it always puts a smile on my face.

“Are you doing well in your studies?”

“Straight A plus like always, dad.” I looked behind me to see dad was frowning. “What’s the matter, old man?”

“I know it’s none of my business, but please let me talk.” I watched as dad turned the fire low, as he turned to face me. It’s not often he does this. Which means it’s important, and I should hear him out. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but are you ok?”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.” I looked up at dad and crossed my own arms. “Ever since you found out Izuku was quirkless, you been acting off.” At that, I looked away from him but didn’t speak. “You’re just like your mother. Putting on a hard act when you’re worried. I’ve noticed that you’ve been crying more recently. Not to mention how you hesitated to touch the phone. And then what happened the other day.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore. It’s nothing, old man!” I turned away from him and got back to chopping the vegetables.

“There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re scared.”

“I wasn’t scared!”

“Is Izuku trying to get into UA as well?”

“He shouldn’t. Not like he’ll ever get in without a quirk. It’s impossible. That damn nerd.”

“Nothing is impossible.” I then felt dad’s hand patting my shoulder. “Please don’t be too hard on yourself.” With that, it went silent between us. And during dinner, I couldn’t help but notice how dad seemed more worried than usual. At that, these were the few moments I saw mom being gentle. As much as we fought, when it came down to it, she was very sweet. Mom just worries a lot.

As I washed dishes, mom stood by the door. “Telling from that look your dad spoke to you?” I nodded my head. “Well, Inko called yesterday about how Izuku is acting strange. She wanted to know if you knew anything.”

“I don’t.”

“I thought as much. You two used to be so close.” Mom then walked over to me and gave me a hug while passing a hand through my hair. “My big boy is going to high school soon. You’ve grown so much.” With that, mom left me to finish the dishes. After, I went to deal with my homework. I just hope Deku is ok.

#bkdk #bnha bkdk #bakugo katsuki #fanfic #izuku midoriya #bakugou x deku #mha #bkdk fanfic #deku midoriya

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