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reki-of-the-valley · 3 years

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More bullet point fanfic by yours truly! - First kiss edition

I woke up at 4 am thinking of this and it's been stuck in my brain ever since. Watch me eventually write it as a whole ass fic

It's the weekend, a slow, hot day. Reki and Langa are in Reki's room, as usual, watching a mix between skating videos and dumb videos that make them laugh (and the occasional cute animal video they will inevitably come across). It's a slow, relaxing day, nothing out of the ordinary for them, except that they can't go out because it's just *too* hot

Langa's got his chin on Reki's shoulder, his eyes falling shut every so often. The heat makes him sluggish, but he refuses to go home where it's cooler or take a nap to sleep the heat away. He's adamant to continue watching what's playing on Reki's phone, even if the light is tiring his eyes

And Reki doesn't mind. He's never minded having Langa close, basically cuddled into his side. Reki likes it, actually. He likes having Langa close. He likes feeling Langa pressed into him, Langa's chin digging into his shoulder, Langa's hair tickling his cheek, Langa's bony elbow pressed into his side. Obviously it's because Reki is used to having people in his personal space. The twins when they cling to his leg, his mother when she hugs him, Koyomi when she's poking him.

So Reki doesn't mind having Langa close, falling asleep on his shoulder. At least, not until Langa is shifting, nose pressing against Reki's neck, the soft skin where no one ever touches him. And his warm breath is heating up Reki's face for a reason he can't tell. Or maybe he can, when Langa is mumble-asking if he can kiss Reki

Langa doesn't mean it. He can't mean it. Langa always mumbles out nonsense when he's half asleep. So Reki laughs it off awkwardly.

Except Langa's nuzzling closer, "please, Reki? Can I, please?"

Reki doesn't trust his voice, knowing it'll come out as a squeak, so he just nods. He has no idea what Langa is going to do, or what kind of kiss he wants, but Reki wants whatever it is, which is weird. Kissing the homies good night was just a saying, not an actual thing, right?

But when Langa's pressing a kiss to his cheek, everything fades away. It doesn't feel weird or wrong or anything. It actually feels nice. Reki likes it. Even if it's just a quick peck, Reki likes it. A lot.

Everything fades, everything goes hazy. Maybe it's from the heat, maybe it's from something else, but Reki's shifting, turning to Langa, Langa with his heavy lidded eyes, Langa with his pretty smile. Maybe it's the heat, maybe that's what's fogging Reki's everything, but something happens. Something happens for Langa to be kissing him, or maybe he's the one kissing Langa; he can't tell who started it. But they're kissing. And Reki feels like he's floating.

Reki is the first to pull away, gasping for air, but langa's chasing his mouth and Reki can't say no to that.

It's not Reki's first kiss - he had kissed a girl on a dare in 6th grade during one of those middle school parties - but it is the first time he was feeling someone's tongue against his lips. It is the first time he was gripping onto someone's shirt to hold them close as the kiss was deepened. It is the first time he was kissing a boy. And he.... Reki likes it. He likes kissing Langa.

When Langa finally pulls back, they're both flushed and panting. Maybe they had gotten a little carried away, but Reki doesn't care. He can't care, not when everything feels blissfully light

At least everything feels nice until Langa's eyes are blown wide open, scrambling to pick his stuff up, shoving them into his bag.

"shit, shit, fuck, I promises my mom I'd be home before dinner. Fuck, she's gonna be pissed. I'm so fucked-!"

And he's dashing off, Reki not even getting a chance to put in a single word. Something twists inside of Reki. Maybe Langa regretted kissing him, maybe that's why he was running away now. Maybe Langa didn't like it as much as Reki did.

They don't talk about the kiss(es). No one brings it up. Reki's too afraid to bring it up and Langa is acting like it never happened. They're both desperately trying to go back to how things were before, but Reki jumps every time Langa's hand brushes against his and Langa isn't leaning in as close as before when they watch videos during lunch at school. It's not horrible, but Reki can feel the tension, which can only mean one thing: Langa hated the kiss.

This goes on for a few days, the awkward no touching but still wanting to. It calms down a bit after a few days. Reki's a little less jumpy, Langa is starting to lean back in (not as much as before, but still always a little closer). They can sit shoulder to shoulder now, not quite touching yet, but getting there. That's how Reki finds himself staring at Langa, watching him eat, looking at his mouth. His mouth that had been pressed to Reki's only a few days ago. His lips so soft despite being chewed at on the daily.

Reki can't blame his actions on the heat this time. He can't blame anything or anyone except himself as he presses a quick kiss to the corner of Langa's mouth. He tries deflecting, finding excuses ("you had something and-!") but it's useless. There's nothing that can excuse his behavior

But Langa simply let's his head fall onto Reki's shoulder. He's not pushing Reki away. He's not telling him that it was wrong of him to do that. None of that.

"M'tired..." "It's the heat, dude" "wanna sleep" "wanna ditch and head back to your place? It's way cooler there" "only if you come"

Reki short circuits as soon as Langa's fingers are twisting with his, tracing the lines in his palm, not letting go.

"can we go? Not like we're actually going to listen to anything, even if we go back"

That's how Reki finds himself pulling Langa up, walking by his side until they're out in the yard and skating off towards Langa's place. That's how he finds himself coming to a halt in front of the apartment he's been in only a handful of times. They always go to his place, crashing in his room. They rarely ever go by the apartment.

Reki watches as Langa unlocks the door, kicking his shoes off as he set his board against the wall. And he follows his lead, though a little more careful, untying his shoes and setting them in a corner with his own board. It's a lot colder in here than it is in his room. The AC must be put to it's lowest.

"you want something? I think my mom bought cookies yesterday"

Reki watches as Langa pulls out more food - they just finished lunch, but Langa is a monster when it comes to snacks, no matter what time it is - before crashing into the couch. Reki follows, like a puppy. He isn't uncomfortable, but still. The environment feels new and he isn't sure how comfortable he should make himself

That is until he's sitting on the couch and Langa is putting his head on Reki's lap, a cookie in his mouth as his bright blue eyes are staring up at Reki. Blue like a clear sky, sun blazing down over the ocean

"I'm sorry," Langa says, holding up his half eaten cookie. "about the other day, I mean. I shouldn't have done that" "I'm sorry too. About- about earlier? It was dumb"

There's a beat of silence. Then Langa is shifting again, sitting up

"Look, Reki, I- I like you and I get it if you dont-!" "Really dude? Like, like like me?" Langa nods, though looking a little confused. "You can do that?" "Reki, you... You do know I'm gay, right?"

Reki did not know that. And when Reki is caught off guard, he acts dumb. That's why he's blurting out "you're gay???"

Langa's still staring at him in disbelief. "yes? I thought it was obvious?"

Apparently not enough for Reki to get the hint. "Oh my god. You like me. You like me. You actually like me."

"Look, you don't have to-" "I like you too! I mean," Reki rubs at his nose, laughing nervously, "i gotta, right? Since I kinda really wanna kiss you again?" "You do?"

And they're both laughing at each other, Langa's face buried in Reki's shoulder. Reki can feel the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, though he isn't sure if it's from the laughing or from how happy he is

Then Langa's shifting against him once again, look up at Reki with his beautiful blue eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

Reki doesn't answer him, only pressing their mouths together. Because of course Langa can kiss him. He's been thinking about it ever since it first happened

The kisses are slower this time. They're not rushed, not as needy. They take their time exploring each other, feeling what's comfortable, what feels good. It's new, the kissing, and they will have to find how to do it properly. But for the most part, there's more smiling than there is kissing

"Reki?" Reki hums against Langa's lips, not quite ready to pull back completely. "Reki, what does this make us? Does this make us boyfriends?"

The realization hits like a truck. He could be Langa's boyfriend. Never in a million years did Reki think that would happen

"yes? I think? I mean, I want to" "does that mean we aren't best friends anymore?"

Langa's eyes and big and wide and worried. He knows he shouldn't laugh, but Reki can't help it. He can't help but laugh, pressing a kiss Langa's cheek

"no, were still best friends, man. Nothing can change that. And I mean," Reki ducks his head, rubbing at his nose, "it's like what they say in all those Hollywood movies. You know, the cheesy romcoms? In those speeches when the main characters get married? That they're marrying their best friend? Not that were getting married! I didn't mean us-!"

Langa's kisses only got sweeter with time. A quick peck cutting Reki off before he fell into a panicked ramble. "I get what you mean. I just... I don't want to lose you. You're the only best friend I've ever had." "What about boyfriend?" "You'll be the last one."

Reki is satisfied with that. He's more than satisfied as Langa is pressing another kiss to his face, then to his mouth. How long had he wanted this? Reki has no idea, but now that he's got it, now that he's got Langa, he's happy.

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flannels-and-fannypacks · 4 years

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Will They Won’t They | Part 1/4 [Reggie Peters]

Pairing: Reggie Peters x fem!reader

Words: 7000

Summary: Reggie and reader were the best of friends up until middle school where they drifted apart and decided never to speak to each other again. What happens when a shared algebra class and a resulting detention force them to spend and increasing amount of time together. Will it be enough to overcome the mutual hate? Or was the relationship doomed from the start.

WARNINGS: swears, spicy dancing, ANGST

A/N: Okay this is the first of hopefully many collabs between Drea and I! We’re both so excited to share out very long baby with you and hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it! - mimi <3

A/N (2): hi babes it’s drea taking over HAHAHA to repeat what mimi said, we are SO EXCITED to collab and work together to create this SUPER ANGSTY but also SUPER FLUFFY AND FUN fic! your feedback is highly appreciated! and if you like our writing, please like, comment, and reblog! we’d love to hear what you have to say! sending my love! - drea :)

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The night was young in your eyes. All the lights in the (L/N) household were off, aside from the nightlight in your bedroom. Despite it being nearly eleven at night, you and your best friend, Reggie Peters, were far from tired.

The soft humming from the radio was all that could be heard from your room, along with the occasional giggle from you or joke cracked by Reggie. You laid on your bed next to him, your legs tangled in the bedsheets. As much as you loved sleepovers with your best friend, you had to admit that Reggie’s growth spurt did not help your cramped situation.

“Your elbow is jabbing my ribs,” you grumbled, kicking Reggie towards the edge of your bed.

The boy only shoved you back, a playful smirk on his face. “You’re just jealous I’m taller than you now, Cookie,” he said triumphantly.

“I��m jealous you’re taking up all the space on my bed, dork,” you shot back, kicking hard enough to push him over the edge. Reggie let out a yelp before hitting the ground, groaning upon the impact. You fell into a fit of giggles as you peeked over the edge of your bed to see a pair of narrowed blue-green eyes and a scowl. “Sorry, Flicka,” you squeaked.

Reggie glared at you jokingly, rubbing his elbow in pain. “No you’re not,” he whispered back.

“Yeah, I’m not.”

You swung your legs over the edge of your bed, standing up to reach -well almost- Reggie’s height. You frowned at his arm, gingerly taking it into your hands. The boy winced upon first touch, but relaxed in your grasp. “Does it hurt a lot?” you asked in a concerned voice.

Reggie shrugged his shoulders. “It’s whatever,” he responded nonchalantly, but the pain in his voice was visible.

You raised an eyebrow at your best friend. “You don’t have to pretend to be all strong and tough,” you reminded him.

The taller boy sighed, a pout adorning his lips. “I know,” he murmured. “But we’re starting middle school soon. I should be ‘all strong and tough.’”

Snorting, you shook your head. “Who cares about that nonsense?” you exclaimed in a hushed voice. “We all feel pain, that’s not a bad thing. Besides, it’s just me, Flicka. You don’t need to put up an act.”

Reggie’s lips turned upwards as he looked into your eyes. Everything just felt right at the moment. The smile on your face. The redness in his cheeks. The moonlight reached the window and illuminated the room. It was perfect.

The radio, forgotten by the two of you, started to play a new song. Your song.

“You got a fast car

I want a ticket to anywhere”

Glancing up at Reggie, you could both tell you were thinking the exact same thing.

“Dance with me, Flicka?” you asked, giving his hands a squeeze.

Reggie’s face burned in embarrassment as you moved his hand to your waist. “I’m not any good at this, you know that, Cookie,” he muttered, resting his chin on top of your head.

You scoffed, starting to sway along to the music. “Just follow my lead, Reggie. I promise I won’t leave you hanging.”

There, the two of you swayed silently to the music. The moon shined bright from your window, making the blue and green in his eyes shine brighter than usual. Reggie watched as you moved your head so that it laid against his chest. You could hear his heart practically beating out of his chest, making you giggle softly.

“Flicka? you spoke up in a hushed tone. Reggie only hummed in reply. You took a deep breath. “Promise me you’ll never leave me?”

Reggie looked out the window, seeing a glimpse of both of your reflections through the glass. “I’d never leave you, Cookie.”

“You promise?” you whispered.

“I promise.”

That was your first broken promise. The first broken promise upon millions. Reggie told you he’d never leave you, that he’d always be your friend.

Funny how fragile promises can be.

That was nearly seven years ago. The late nights spent doing who knows what, listening to the radio seemed like a distant memory from a past life.

Now your days were spent alone in the library, bent over textbooks determined to ace your classes to get a scholarship and go to a good college. You wouldn’t make your parents pay for that. That was asking too much of them.

You weren’t sure where Reggie was, or what he was doing. Once you both were in middle school, he found himself new friends, and apparently a band, too. Even though you weren’t on speaking terms, you had listened to his music every once in a while. You knew he was destined for big things. Those big things just didn’t include you.

But that was fine. Your entire life wasn’t centred around some boy from your childhood. You had school and your family. So, for you, that meant signing up for all the most challenging classes and studying your ass off for all of them.

You didn’t want to admit it but this class was killing you. Your pride always got in the way. Most of the time, you believed you were capable of passing every class with flying colours. But, there was no denying this class was more difficult than the others. How were you supposed to know what effects the Great Depression had on farmers of that era? You weren’t them and they were all dead.

Your tired eyes drifted over to the clock and you sighed as you realized what time it was. Packing your things, you left the library and dragged your feet to your algebra class.

Sitting patiently in the front row while your teacher explained the lesson plan you barely even registered the faint knock on the door frame, but when you turned your head up your expression changed from one neutral to a scowl.

He hadn’t changed a bit. Aside from the whole outfit -he definitely switched his old sports sweatshirts for leather jackets sometime in freshman year- he was the same old Reggie Peters. The same dark hair, piercing blue-green eyes, and rosy red cheeks.

“Um, sorry I’m supposed to be in algebra with Mr. Milenika, I just got transferred.” the dark hair teen said, running a hand through his hair and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, Mr. Peters correct?”

Reggie nodded wordlessly. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Not from nerves, but is pure hatred for the boy. He couldn’t be in this class. He just couldn’t. Why would the universe do that to you?

“Very well, take a seat.”

Reggie walked into the class, eyeing where to take a seat when he noticed the only open spot was next to you.

His features hardened and he threw his bag down next to the empty desk, pulling out the chair and sitting in it with a loud thump.

“Flicka,” you spat.

“Cookie,” he nodded with a hiss in return.

“Great, I take it you two know each other?” Mr. Milenika asked, unaware of the drama that was associated with whatever relationship you and Reggie had. It was a stretch to say you even had one.

You and Reggie gave him a bitter “Yes.”

Mr. Milenika, never one who was ever good at differentiating bitterness and normal answers, beamed at the two.

“Good, because even though this is a math class, I will make you work with your partner quite often. So I suggest you get to know whoever is sitting next to you.” Your body stiffened. As if it couldn’t get any worse, Mr. Milenka never failed to disappoint.

Mr. Milenika continued on, explaining the rest of the plan for the class, but you seemed unable to concentrate, entirely focused on the boy who was now sitting next to you. With his stupid face and stupidly strong cologne, you couldn’t focus at all on whatever was on the board. It was as though you were in a haze, and all you could think about was him.

It had been years since you’d last spoken, not to mention you barely saw him in the halls anymore. He was notorious for skipping class to go rehearse with his so-called band while you were quite the opposite. Never missing a day, no matter what it took.

“Never thought you were one for staring,” he whispered under his breath and you scoffed.

“Oh so we don’t talk for seven years and you think now’s a good time to start?”

“Yeah, I do, cause then I could tell you how stupid those shoes look,”

“I’m literally just wearing converse, you are too Reginald,” you spat.

“Shut up!” he said, raising his voice slightly.

“You first!” you said, voice becoming louder. Was it a childish comeback? Perhaps, but you weren’t one to back down, no matter how stupid your comebacks were.

Now the whole class was listening, even Mr. Milenika had stopped teaching to observe what was going on with his students and just as he was about to intervene it seemed the debate had gotten worse.

“Me? shut up? You’re the one who was always bossing me around and telling me what to do! I could never get in a word with you!” Reggie snapped back.

“That’s because you were too thick-skulled to listen to anything I had to say!” you hissed, not realizing the audience you had. “Who knows Flicka maybe if you had you wouldn’t have failed this class last term!”

“That was uncalled for!” Reggie exclaimed, now standing from his chair. “And it’s not my fault the tutor bailed on me because it was a conflict of interest. This isn’t Judge Judy (Y/N)! If anything it’s your fault!”

“You manipulative little asshole!”

“Suck up!”

“Motherf-,”

“That’s enough!” Mr. Milenika yelled over both of you, causing you to shrink and turn to look at the very angry teacher. “Never in my years of teaching have I seen such barbaric behaviour! That’s two months' detention. Both of you! Now go to Mrs. Hillside’s office, immediately.”

Reggie angrily grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, kicking a stray chair on his way out while you followed close behind in a much quieter fashion.

You had no words as you entered the principal’s office, sitting across from her desk while Reggie took the seat next to yours.

It was your first day back from the holiday. Your first day back and you finally had a conversation with your childhood best friend in seven years and got two months of detention with said childhood best friend. Your heart ached at the thought of the big flaw printed on your record. You only had Reggie to blame.

Purposefully, you shuffled away from him and he rolled his eyes as Mrs. Hillside finished her phone conversation with Mr. Milenika.

“Disrupting a class?” The woman exclaimed. “Foul language? Damaging school property?” Your face burned at each accusation.

Mrs. Hillside glared at you. “Ms.(L/N),” she addressed with a frown. “I did not expect such reckless and irresponsible behaviour from a promising student like you. I’m greatly disappointed.”

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “Please don’t make it go on my record,” you whimpered, your voice cracking.

The woman pressed her lips together. “You’re lucky this is your first detention, Ms.(L/N).” You released the breath you had no idea you were holding.

“Kiss ass,” Reggie muttered.

You narrowed your eyes at the boy, prepared to shoot back another comeback when your principal had something far better.

“I find that rich from you, Mr. Peters,” she laughed humorlessly. “Remind me, how many detentions did you have last term?” The boy’s cheek flushed, instantly shutting his mouth. You held back a laugh as to not get a snapback of your own from the teacher. “Now as much as this is infuriating, you both do have a class that I believe would be in your best interest not to miss. So we’ll draw up a schedule for these two months of detention and then you can return to your class in an orderly fashion. You understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” you nodded and Reggie just shrugged, if he blew this for you, well let’s just say there wouldn’t be any evidence of the crime.

“So let’s make this three days a week for two months. Thursday, Friday and Saturday and the hours will vary from time to time depending on the tasks you need to complete.”

“Three times a week?” Reggie exclaimed. “Mrs. Hillside, I have band practice-”

“And I’m losing my patience,” she cut him off. “Now go back to class before I make it four detentions a week.”

You squeaked a quiet “Thank you” before picking up your things and leaving the principal’s office. Speeding down the hallways, you didn’t hear Reggie catching up close behind you. When you saw a blur of black and red in the corner of your eye, you fought the urge to turn your head.

“Stupid Reggie Peters,” you muttered under your breath. “Stupid algebra class. Stupid Mr. Milenka and his stupid detention. Stupid-”

“Are you talking to me, Cookie?” Reggie spoke up, making you jump in surprise. By that time, you were already at the door of your algebra class.

You pressed your binder close to your chest, shooting the boy a pointed glare. “I hate you,” you said, opening the door just enough for you to slip through and slam in Reggie’s face.

You didn’t dare speak when you returned back to class, not wanting to try your luck and possibly extend your already long detention.

Reggie seemed to be thinking the same thing, possibly except he didn’t have his record on the line it was that stupid band practice of his. If he had spent as much time studying as he did practicing maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation because he would have passed the class in the first place.

You knew that you’d need to spend time catching up tonight so you didn’t even bother paying attention to the lesson. Anger bubbled in your chest as you mindlessly wrote notes for the class, not processing anything at all. Occasionally, you would notice a pair of blue-green eyes staring at you, only for them to turn back to the board each time you would look back.

You couldn’t even look each other in the eye. How were you supposed to last two months of detention with him?

Finally, the bell rang and allowed you to escape the confinement that was the loud stares of your classmates as you headed to your first assigned detention. Cleaning up the backroom of the library.

Reaching the library, you were met with the librarian, Mr. Mallard. The old man was hunched over a box filled with books, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. It seemed as though he didn’t realize you were right behind him, so you awkwardly cleared your throat.

Mr. Mallard jumped, turned around to see you nervously waving at him. “Oh, Ms. (L/N), I didn’t see you there.” You waved his comment off.

“Not a problem,” you said with a kind smile. You mentally let out a sigh of relief. Good thing Mr. Mallard was nicer than the rest of the teachers here.

“I was just listening to music,” he explained, nodding at the radio playing soft music. He looked back at you. “You know I used to be a dancer back in my day? Now, I got this bad back, so I’m stuck here with you rascals.” You laughed at the man as he tried to snap his fingers and sway his hips to the music. “Ah, I got too carried away, sorry, dear. Now I must be getting old because I could have sworn there were supposed to be two of you here with me.”

You nodded, looking around for the boy in a leather jacket and red flannel, but came up empty. “He must be running late,” you told him.

Mr. Mallard frowned. “Well, I guess we can wait for him,” he settled, sitting down on his desk chair. “Feel free to take a seat over there until he comes in.”

Reggie came in a few minutes later, tossing his bag onto one of the chairs and placing his bass guitar on the table.

“The usual Mr. Mallard?” Reggie asked and the older man gave him a nod. It seemed Reggie had become familiar with the library as you had, just in a different way. “Well what are you waiting for?” he looked at you unimpressed. “The faster we start the faster we leave.”

You didn’t say a word, only followed him into the back room where you’d be organizing some old books, boxes and trophies

You stepped into the room, squinting at the shadows of assorted boxes. It was completely dark.

“Well, come on, Cookie,” Reggie said, giving you a shove. “We don’t have all day.”

You took in a shaky breath. “It’s dark,” you pointed out.

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I think we’ve established that,” he said. “Let’s just find the light switch and start cleaning.”

You nodded, blindly searching along the walls for that damn switch. Not noticing the small box on the floor, you kicked it aside, spilling all sorts of books onto the floor. You squeaked in fear, grabbing the first thing in sight. Of course, that had to be Reggie’s hand.

You whipped your head around, face red in embarrassment. Lucky for you the darkness of the room prevented him from seeing that. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Reggie scoffed at you. “Still scared of the dark?” he asked in a teasing voice.

“Still sleep with that horse plushie of yours?” you shot back.

Reggie glared at you but didn’t say anything else. Without letting go of your hand he flicked on the switch and the room filled with a dim orange hue.

“You can let go now,” you said, trying to shimmy your hand away from his, only prompting him to grip harder.

“What are you scared of me now?” he asked with a smirk and you scowled, ripping your hand away from his.

“Let’s just clean, like you said, the faster we get this done the faster we can go home.”

The room was silent aside from the noises of books falling against the floor, making a quiet thud. You made a small area of your own in the back of the room, a stack of boxes hiding your view of Reggie. But from the lack of noises made in his part of the room, you could tell he wasn’t doing anything productive.

You poked your head out of your small space, frowning at the boy. He was sitting on the floor, slouching as he scribbled on a dusty piece of paper.

“Hey!” you called out, throwing an old yearbook in his direction.

Reggie barely ducked in time, sitting up and turning in your area. “What the hell?” he yelled.

“We’re supposed to be working on cleaning this room!” you snapped. “You aren’t doing shit, Flicka.”

“I did clean,” he muttered. “I just had an idea for the band-”

“That stupid band! Why can’t you just stop for once in your life and focus on what’s in front of you,” you scowled, frustrated that even now you were the one stuck doing all the work. Seemed like maybe things hadn’t changed much from seven years ago.

“Maybe if you loosened a screw or two we wouldn’t need to have this conversation,”

“Just shut up Reginald, you have no idea what it means to take responsibility for something. You haven’t changed and you never will.”

Reggie was about to come back with a retort when the door to the backroom swung open and Mr. Mallard came in with a smile on his face.

“Could I get you kids some snacks?” he asked kindly.

“Always, you’re the man Mr. M.” Reggie grinned, completely ignoring you and giving the librarian a high five from where he sat on the ground.

“I’m good Mr. Mallard,” you shook your head and he left you both with a nod of his head and promised to be back with some assortment of fruits and such.

After your first detention, it was safe to say that all hope of fixing your friendship with Reggie went down the drain. It seemed as though every hour you spent with him gave you all the more reasons to throttle him and be glad he stopped talking to you back in middle school.

—

Detentions became just another regular part of your week, integrated with your studying and your part-time job at the cafe. So you were more than happy to take a minute and walk back home where you could take a minute to rest.

Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.

“Reggie!” a voice yelled. You took a deep breath as you tried to make yourself invisible. It was his friends, Luke, Alex, and Bobby. The friends he left you for.

Reggie’s face lit up as he walked past you, running over to his friends. “Hey guys!” he said with a toothy grin. “What are you doing here?”

Luke shrugged his shoulders. “We thought we might as well give you a ride to practice since we were already around here for lunch,” he explained nonchalantly.

Bobby sent his friend a glare. “You mean I gave you a ride,” he corrected, gesturing to the keys in his hand.”

Luke waved his comment off. “Details. Oh, who’s that?” Luke asked pointing over to you and you tried to pick up your pace before he eventually made his way to you.

“That’s just (Y/N),” Reggie shrugged. “We have detention together.” Luke approached you with an overexcited pep in his step. You tried to back away as subtly as possible, but you were stopped by a wall.

“You’re adorable!” he grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder while you looked at him in a sort of odd confusion. “Your face is so cute and pink, kind of like a bunny! You know, growing up I had this bunny for a pet named Carrot. We’re adopting you, right boys?”

You ducked under his arm, trying to stay as polite as possible. “Oh, I’d love to be your friend and all,” you began nervously. “But um...I just have things to do and-”

“We’re. Adopting. You,” Luke said in a sickly sweet but firm voice. “Right boys?”

As you tried to slip out of his grasp and walk away, Alex, who was also coincidentally your lab partner, called out from the van.

“Hey (N/N), you need a ride?”

“No thanks! I’m fine walking,” you called back, but Luke didn’t want to take no for an answer. He ran up in front of you and scooped you in his arms, throwing you over his shoulder causing you to shriek in surprise.

“We’re taking you with us! Who knows what kind of dangerous types are wandering around LA.”

“At the moment I would think you’re one of them!” you exclaimed, squirming to have him put you down, before finally giving up when he tossed you in the van. “Could this constitute a kidnapping? I feel like it’s a kidnapping. Can I call the police?”

Reggie followed close behind the two of you, clearly not liking this at all. He had already spent enough time with you in detention. Now you’re with his friends? He took the backseat, right behind you. “Dude, come on,” Reggie said as Luke fastened your seatbelt before patting the top of your head. You shot the guitarist a glare. “I really don’t want to be arrested for kidnapping. Especially since it’s her. Lord knows she’ll manage to pin the charges on me.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Nonsense,” he said. “We’re not kidnapping her. We’re making friends!”

“That’s not how making friends works, Patterson!” you yelled as he slid the van door closed.

While they were making their way to your house Luke seemed to glance at the time on the dash and gasped.

“Shit! Guys turn around we’re gonna be late for practice!”

“Practice, you said you were taking me home!” you exclaimed. “This is actually a kidnapping now! Flicka your friends suck!”

“Sorry Lady Bunny,” Luke shrugged and you whined.

Reggie groaned and banged his head on the seat in front of him while Bobby took a definitely illegal u-turn to go where they normally had their rehearsals.

The car stopped in front of a fairly nice house with a big studio. The boys filed out, leaving you grumbling in the back seat. Luke opened the door, bowing dramatically.

“Lady Bunny,” Luke said, reaching his hand out to you.

You scowled at the boy, crossing your arms on your chest. “I want to go home,” you muttered.

“No can do, Lady Bunny,” Luke said with a shrug of his shoulders. “We have practice to do.”

“Then I’ll walk home,” you whined.

Luke laughed at your frustrated face. “Can’t let you do that either,” he told you. “Besides, you’re too little and innocent to brave the world on your own.” Luke reached for your cheek, patting it softly until you turned your head and bit his finger. “Ouch!”

“Yeah, bunnies bite, dick head. This is holding an innocent party against their will and you will do jail time,”

“(N/N), just stick around this once, I’ll make sure you get home later,” Alex offered and you slouched in your seat and mumbled a “Fine,”

Alex patted your back and led you into the large studio where there was a girl with frizzy brown curly hair, sitting on a couch.

“Finally! What took you guys so long!” she sighed and stood up.

“We adopted a bunny, Rose!” Luke grinned and hugged you from behind tucking your chin in his shoulder. You rolled your eyes and mouthed help me, to the girl and she scrunched her nose as if to say, ‘sorry honey there isn’t anything I can do.’

Luke pulled you to the couch and sat you down. “Now you stay there while we practice, okay bunny?” he said, patting your head.

“If you’re good we might give you snacks,” Bobby added from behind Luke, snickering under his breath.

Rose shot both boys a pointed look. “Cut that out, you two,” she ordered. Rose sat next to you, patting your knee. “Can I get you anything? Water? A snack? You don’t have to do a flip for treats or whatever.”

You laughed in response, nervously playing with the hem of your sweater. “I’m fine, thank you,” you responded politely. “If anything I just want a ride home.”

Rose frowned, leaning against the pillow cushions. “I’d give you a ride but my sister took the car for today,” she explained apologetically. Rose could sense the awkward tension, and wanted to break the ice. “So which one of them is your boyfriend?”

You choked on air, not expecting her question. For once, you were thankful the band was blasting music. “I’m sorry?” you coughed, causing Rose to reach over to grab a water bottle from the table and offer it to you. You took a big gulp, sighing. “What made you think that?”

Rose hummed as she thought of her answer. “Well, you’re way too nervous around me,” she began. “And the boys all keep on looking at you. Alex is not your boyfriend because he’s currently talking to this guy in my English class. Bobby...definitely isn’t your type, now that I look at you. I considered Luke for a moment but he’s way too dedicated to music to date anyone but his six-string, you also just seemed way too annoyed by him, but what’s new. And now that leaves Reggie.” she looked over at the boy playing the bass. Reggie, who apparently was watching the two of you talk, quickly ducked his head, his cheeks visibly red. “You two have history, don’t you?”

You froze, eyes widening. “How did you-”

“I think you forgot we were in the same homeroom since fourth grade,” she laughed. “You and Reggie, you guys were glued at the hip. Don’t you have nicknames for each other or something?”

“I-I guess,” you shrugged, it wasn’t really something you used as a term of endearment anymore, but it was still there. “He was Flicka and I was Cookie,”

“Did you date?” she asked curiously, leaning in closer.

“No,” you shook your head. “Just friends. Used to be.” you corrected and Rose frowned, but before she could ask another question you stopped her. “If I have to sit here and wait for Alex to take me home you think we could talk about something else?”

“Sure,” Rose nodded, “Well in that case I think you should come around here more often,”

“What do you mean?” you nervously chuckled.

“I don’t know, I just think we’d be pretty good friends,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

You leaned your head on her shoulder, smiling at the warm feeling bubbling inside you. “Yeah,” you agreed in a quiet voice. “I’m starting to think so, too.”

—

“And then he told me I was annoying!” you hissed, angrily scribbling the data of your experiment onto your notebook. “Can you believe that? Him!”

Alex anxiously watched you as you reached for a pipette, squeezing the poor thing like it stole your money. “Really?” Alex only said in a shaky voice.

You nodded furiously, taking the indicator, not even caring to count out your drops and just pouring the purple liquid haphazardly into the Erlenmeyer flask.

“He’s-He’s just a… argh! I can’t stand him!” you waved your hands almost knocking over the whole buret and ring stand with a very strong molarity composition of hydrochloric acid in it causing Alex to let out a strangled yelp from the back of his throat.

“C-can you please at least stay ten feet away from the table?” he requested. “You’re going to either break something or send me to the hospital with an acid burn and I really would prefer if that didn’t happen.”

You placed your materials down, glaring at the blond boy. “What are you talking about?” you snapped, not meaning to take your anger out on your friend (and chemistry experiment, at that).

Alex placed his hands up in the air in defence. “Just-” he swallowed loudly, trying to think of the right words. “Maybe take a deep breath? I know Reggie gets you all angry and stuff, but please don’t put our lives and chemistry grade on the line.”

“Makes me mad is a fucking understatement,” you grumbled.

“Okay, we can start there,” Alex began, slowly moving the materials far away from you. “I think it’s reasonable and incredibly understandable that you dislike him. But do you really hate him?”

You scowled. “Yes, Alexander,” you said in a scarily calm voice. “As a matter of fact, I do. He’s a fucking pain in my ass and can go fuck himself for all I care. He’s rude, inconsiderate, and selfish beyond belief.”

“And why do you think that?”

“Alex, you’re not my therapist, stop acting like you have every right to be in my business when you don’t know a single thing about me!”

Alex didn’t respond to that comment, fearing what you might say next. You paused, noticing Alex’s uneasiness. “I’m sorry,” you only mumbled.

He nodded wordlessly, gently placing his hand over yours. “Don’t worry about it, (N/N),” he reassured you.

Silence followed, aside from the quiet mumbling of instructions for the experiment. Minutes in, you finally decided to break the silence.

“Because he left me,” you whispered in a broken voice.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?” he said, genuinely not hearing you.

You sighed, placing your pencil and notebook down. “He left me for your stupid band. He got friends and I got nothing,” you explained further. You removed your glasses, wiping away a stray tear. “I probably shouldn’t even be mad at him, at this point. He’s moved on...and got popular and actually has something going on for himself. And me?” You laughed humorlessly at yourself. “I work a job to help mom and dad pay the bills and work my ass off so I can go to school and make a life for myself. No one told me trying for success would be so lonely.”

“(Y/N),” Alex said, frowning slightly.

You shook your head. “But he’s happy, isn’t he?” you asked. “Reggie. He’s smiling wider than I’ve ever seen before. Singing and playing the bass, dancing his heart out on stage. He never used to do those things with me.” You looked away from Alex, unable to take his pitiful gaze. “He’s changed while I’ve stayed the same. I’m stuck here, still moping about my past. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he is better off without me.”

“He’s not,” Alex said without even thinking.

“How could you say that? He’s clearly happier. It’s not like you can pretend you don’t see that,”

“But he’s not. He just replaced what he had, his friendship with you, with music. I might not know him as well as you, but it’s his coping mechanism. It hides all the bad things in life that he chooses not to deal with,”

“Reggie’s not like that,” you shook your head, refusing to believe what Alex was saying.

Alex, starting to get frustrated, slammed his hands on the edge of the table. “Dammit, (Y/N) can you just realize for one second that you don’t hate Reggie and that Reggie doesn’t hate you?” Your mouth remained closed, so Alex took it as an opportunity to push further. “You two talk my ears off about each other more than you realize. It’s always “Reggie did this” or “(Y/N) did that” can’t you two get your heads out of your asses and see that?”

“C-Can you take care of this, I’m just going to run to the washroom,” you murmured, not waiting for a response. You took off your goggles, gloves and lab coat, making your way to the courtyard, contrary to where you said you were going. Pulling your MP3 player out of your pocket you threw on a pair of battered headphones and turned the volume all the way up clicking on the familiar track of Fast Car maybe you couldn’t run away physically, but right now, your heart sure needed a break.

—

“You two will be with Mrs. Leona today in the dance room,”

“What does she need?” you asked with much confusion. Normally Saturdays were used for either sitting in silence or cleaning up some area of the school.

“She needs help choreographing the dance she’s going to use for the sophomore class next semester,” Mrs. Hillside explained. “Now go on, get dressed and meet her in the dance room.”

You and Reggie walked away to the locker rooms. A scowl was plastered on the boy’s face. “These detentions are getting more and more ridiculous each day,” he muttered.

Scoffing, you crossed your arms on your chest. “Well, that’s something we both can agree on.”

You parted ways for a short time to get changed before meeting back up again in the dance room where Mrs. Leona was already setting up and waiting for you both.

“Perfect! So glad you guys could make it,” she grinned.

“We have detention,” Reggie noted. “Not really much of a choice,” You shot the boy a glare, elbowing him roughly in the ribs.

“Right,” she chuckled. “Well, I’m working on a routine for my sophomores. Apparently, they think we’re doing the same thing over and over again so I’m going to give them something new for a change. I was thinking a partner assignment would work best.”

You and Reggie nodded as Mrs. Leona walked over to the stereo, popping in a CD and playing All That She Wants in the background on repeat while she would lead the stretches.

“Isn’t this song a little inappropriate to have sophomores dancing to? Or like even just to play in school?” you asked as you followed along.

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Of course that’s what you ask,” he muttered.

Mrs. Leona waved off your comment. “It’s fine,” she insisted. “It’s an upbeat song, and it’s “in,” so might as well give the kids a fun assignment.”

“Mrs. Leona, what kind of dance moves are you thinking?” Reggie asked curiously. “Because I’m not that good of a dancer and (Y/N) is practically so old she could break her hip by breathing.”

“I’m not old,” you snapped, crossing your arms on your chest.

“You sure act like it,” he shot back.

“You bit-”

“Enough talking!” Mrs. Leona cut you both off. “More dancing. Now I have a couple of ideas for you two, so make sure you’re really stretched out so you don’t pull something.”

You groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “What did I get myself into?”

—

“It’s a simple concept!” Mrs. Leona insisted after the millionth attempt. “You two are just so awkward with each other.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Can you just explain it again, please?” you requested.

Mrs. Leona sighed, standing up to show you the dance sequence. “Reggie, take her hand and bring it to your lips. Step away, and (Y/N) you pull him back. Then Reggie turn so that you and (Y/N) are facing each other. At that point, you grab him by the shirt while he takes your waist, then he twirls you and goes in to dip you. Simple enough!”

Simple to maybe a Rockette, but not to a bassist and an awkward bookworm.

“Let’s take it from there, okay guys?”

You grumbled to yourself, positioning yourself in front of the boy. “This is way too much,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

“Just shut up and do what she says,” Reggie hissed. “I don’t want to be any closer to you than I have to.”

When the music started playing, you felt Reggie’s fingertips trace down your arm to your hand, unknowingly creating a trail of goosebumps. Weaving his fingers with yours, he brought your intertwined hands up to his face, his lips ever so gently grazing your hand.

On beat, Reggie started to walk away from you, only for you to pull him back. His eyes met yours as you brought your other hand to his chest, balling the fabric of his shirt in your fist. You watched as he dropped his hand to your waist before pulling away to twirl you. The moment he pulled you back into his chest, you saw his cheeks redden. You were so close, close enough to smell that stupidly distracting cologne of his. You knew Reggie was just as flustered. His hand was getting clammy in yours. Before you could even process it, he dipped you down, making you gasp in surprise.

You didn’t even notice the music had stopped. All that was on your mind at that moment was Reggie. His eyes flicked down to yours, and you could have sworn you saw a hint of a smile on his lips.

The loud clapping coming from Mrs. Leona had snapped you out of your trance. Immediately regaining his composure, Reggie loosened his grip on you. You fell to the ground, hitting your elbow upon impact.

“Ass,” you muttered, rubbing your elbow in pain.

“If you’re saying I’ve got a good one then I agree,” he smirked and you scoffed loudly.

Mrs. Leona walked up to the two of you. “That was probably the best dancing I’ve seen from the two of you all morning,” she applauded. “And for that, you can take a five-minute break,”

“Oh thank God,” you whispered and flopped onto the ground, trying to relax your muscles. You tried to pull one leg over the other, stretching it out, but unable to turn properly in order to pull the tension out of your muscle.

Your eyes were closed so you didn’t notice Reggie coming closer and kneeling toward you, placing a hand on your thigh and pushing it down for you, causing you to open your eyes and see him practically leaning over top of you.

“Ow! Fuck! Too much,” you hissed and he loosened his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Helping you stretch, you’re ancient so I thought I might be able to lend a hand,”

“Get your hand off me,” you said seriously.

“What,” he grinned, lifting his hand higher and causing your breath to hitch and slap his hand away and sit up, scooching back.

“Fuck off Flicka,” you said, the words barely able to leave your mouth, throat turning dry.

“Only trying to help, Cookie,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He looked over at your arm, seeing as you winced with every movement. “Does it hurt a lot?”

You cradled your elbow. “It’s whatever,” you mumbled in response, unconsciously mimicking his answer.

Reggie scoffed, leaning back on his hands. “Say what you want, Cookie, but I know when you’re lying. You can’t pretend around me.” You paused, vaguely remembering that night with the radio.

“I said I’m fine, Reggie,” you insisted firmly.

“Just let me see it,” he asked, crawling over to you, prompting you to scoot all the way back until you hit the mirror. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he frowned.

“That’s what you said seven years ago but I’ve learnt the hard way to take promises from you with a grain of salt,” you said venomously.

Reggie paused, moving back to his spot, far away from you. “Fine,” he simply said. “But don’t act like you were the only victim. I got hurt, too.”

You opened your mouth to respond when Mrs. Leona walked back into the room with three water bottles. “Well, I’m back. Are you two rested enough to continue?”

You shook your head. “Mrs. Leona, um I think it’s probably time we head back to Mrs. Hillside’s office,” you suggested. “It’s erm, late and I hurt my elbow, so…”

Mrs. Leona nodded understandingly. “Yes, of course, I forgot how much time had passed. You two work so well together, I might as well keep you guys in my class!” You laughed nervously before grabbing your things and waving goodbye. You didn’t bother looking back at Reggie. There was nothing left to say.

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because-of-a-friend · 3 years

Text

GuardianAngel!Jun

MASTERLIST

Thanks for the request anon! I really hope you like it!!! This was def a bit out of my comfort zone but in a really exciting way! Also I don’t keep up with absolutely all lore on angels/ guardian angels, so if I say something you weren’t expecting/didn’t really want or left out something you were expecting, I’m sorry and hope it’s still enjoyable anyways! (I DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE THIS ANGSTY IT JUST SORT OF HAPPENED IM SORRY)

Warnings: Near death experiences (including almost drowning), mentions of injury and death, and angst

There are rules about being a guardian angel that are so obvious, they don’t need to be spoken

Obviously, if there’s a fixed point where your person has to get injured or even die, you can’t intervene

You can’t ever assist in a way that would get you spotted by your person

You can’t do more than simple guidance when it comes to matters of the heart and mind

And, you cannot ever meet your person and tell them who you are

Jun has always followed all rules to a T

He’s never gotten in trouble or anywhere even close to trouble

He’s an example to his peers

He always does his job perfectly

There’s never been a hitch

And then he’s assigned to you

At first your life is as normal as anyone else he’s ever been a guardian to

But then things get complicated

It’s honestly like you’re trying to get hurt

Suddenly, there’s just a period of time where you’re constantly in danger

Jun will save you once and then immediately be running off to save you again

Boy is he stressed

He feels like his constant state of being is just standing there, bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath before you need him again

He’ll admit that he’d rather be assigned to you than someone who never required his help at all

He’d be so bored

But still, did you always have to be so... reckless?

One day it gets to be too much

And Jun slips up

You had already walked under an AC unit falling from someone’s apartment window and he had to send a gust of wind to push you out of the way

Then you stepped out into the street in front of a car speeding down the road

Jun was still in the middle of breathing out a sigh of relief from the first incident

So he didn’t have the time to think of how to save you from the next danger

In his panic he steps forward and grabs you

You feel the hand around your wrist

You feel the force yanking you back out of the street

You see someone out of the corner of your eye

But once you fully turn to thank them, no one is there

You’re turning around over and over to see who you could have missed

But there’s really no one

Jun is watching you from a few feet away, now invisible to your eyes, his heart practically beating out of his chest

He didn’t do anything wrong... did he?

Technically he didn’t get caught by you

Technically

But that was close

He needs to be more careful

You have a period of time where you’re just utterly confused about what happened that day

You’re constantly looking over your shoulder wondering if maybe it was something supernatural

You start to notice your close calls with injury/death

And begin to wonder what’s stopping you from actually getting hurt

Sometimes it’s a gust of wind strong enough to push you out of the way, or a loud noise to stop you in your tracks, or sometimes just the kindness of a random stranger who is suddenly overcome with the need to help you

It’s starting to feel impossible how many times you’ve crossed paths with death and walked away fine

You begin to almost... test the waters

Instead of accidentally running into trouble, you start purposely running towards it

Jun is unbelievably stressed

Why do you have to do this?

He feels like he might die at this rate just from how much he’s stressing out about your safety

Then you put him in a situation where he really has no choice but to help you as himself

You’re walking by a community pool late at night after agreeing to help your friend that works there out by locking up for them so they could go out that night instead of being stuck at work late

There’s no one else there since it’s already closed

It’s dark and slippery

And with you being you, Jun is beyond nervous, so he follows behind you from no more than a foot away

It’s going fine and you’re almost done

So Jun is letting out a sigh of relief

But it was too soon

As you’re passing by to double check that the back door is locked, you slip on the wet floor

You tumble towards the pool and hit your head on the way down

Jun watches in horror as you fall into the water and sink straight to the bottom

He doesn’t hesitate even for a moment to jump in after you

He drags you out and sets you down next to the pool

You’re not waking up and he’s terrified

He begins to perform CPR

Finally you sit up, choking, water streaming out of your mouth

You saw him, you know you did

There’s a boy sitting in front of you even though you knew there was no one in the building besides you

He’s staring into your eyes with such great concern

“Are you ok?”

You nod slowly as he helps you sit up

“You need to go to the hospital, you hit your head”

You nod at his words again, reaching up the rub your eyes since they’re blurred from the water

“How did you get in-”

You stop mid sentence

As soon as you’ve taken your hands away from your eyes, you look up and see that no one is there

You begin to search around but you really are alone

You’re spooked and also worried that maybe it’s just because you hit your head that hard and immediately head to the hospital

The doctor discharges you quickly, telling you the hit didn’t do any serious damage and that you just needed to rest and take it easy for a few days

You’re still completely confused by the disappearing boy

Was he the same person that pulled you out of the street that one day?

Jun begins to observe you closely after these incidents

He can tell you must be thinking about him

Most days when you’re not busy, you’ll be staring off into the distance, your mind trying to explain these strange happenings

And for the first time since he’s ever become a guardian angel, Jun really wants to tell you

Usually he had no issues hiding from the people he was assigned to

But you

He likes the way you live

How you speak to people

Your goals and dreams and how you work towards them

The hobbies you enjoy

He feels happy being your guardian

And while it can be stressful sometimes, he never hates it

It feels, ironically, comfortable to be your guardian

He’s honestly grown quite fond of you

Which is also a big no-no for guardian angels

You should never get too attached to your assigned person

There will come a time where they have to get hurt

Or a time when their life must come to an end

If a guardian angel is too attached to a human

They may try to change what must be

But Jun hates watching you feel like you’re going insane over not being able to explain these instances

He wants to be able to explain it all to you

In the end all it takes is one more brush with danger before you’re standing there, Jun’s hand locked around your arm, staring into his eyes after he’s saved you once again

He immediately turns to walk away but you grab his arm

“WAIT! Wait!”

Jun knows he should do anything, anything at all to leave you right then and there so he doesn’t get caught

But he also doesn’t hate the idea of that happening

“I know you!” you say. “You saved me the other day at the pool!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, turning back to you, “but I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It was you, wasn’t it?” you’re so sure this is the boy from the pool

Jun hesitates

Instead of saying anything, he just holds a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion before finally walking off

And you just stand there in awe

It was him

You go home immediately, beginning to study different supernatural creatures and happenings

You print out pages and pages of all sorts of information on any type of guardian creature you can find

You’re certain this boy is something other than human and you’re sure that whatever he is, he must be in charge of your safety

Now every time you almost get hurt or in trouble, you look around wildly, trying to spot the boy who you’ve only really been able to see twice

Sometimes you’ll catch a glimpse of a figure walking around a corner out of sight, or a being seemingly disappearing into thin air

This boy must be following you everywhere and you’re determined to catch him again

Jun, who is very tired after all of the saving you and then concealing himself moments, sort of just... lets you

One day you turn around after surviving another potentially dangerous moment, and he’s just... standing there

You can’t think of anything else to say, so you just blurt out the question, “Are you my guardian angel?”

Jun just smiles and nods at you, “Nice to finally meet you”

He walks you home that day

And you have a million questions for him

“Did you chose me or were you assigned to me?”

“What abilities do you have?”

“Have you been with me my whole life?”

“Do you have like... a boss?”

“Actually what is the system like?”

“What other supernatural creatures exist?”

“Do you have a name?”

He interrupts your next question by answering, “Jun.”

It silences you for a moment

“I like that name.”

Jun smiles brightly at you

You notice he sort of... glows

To say your relationship moves fast is an understatement

Jun knows your time together will be short

He’s heard what has happened to other guardian angels who have broken the rules

Someone will be coming for him

But he knows he’s in love with you

And wants to make sure he takes advantage of all the moments he has left with you

He’s very forward

But since your safety and comfort is his top priority, he always lets you set the boundaries beforehand

He’ll never do anything you don’t want him to do

But he’s definitely going to do anything and everything that you are ok with him doing

You feel strangely comfortable around him

Obviously you know he’s there to protect you and he’s been there your whole life

But it’s still strange how easy it is for you to just fall right into Jun

He holds your face in his hands and looks at you like you’re the whole world

And to him you are

Nothing has ever mattered to him as much as you

And all he wants to do is spend as much time with you as possible

He wants to go on all the traditional human type dates and do all the cliché human couple things

The two of you celebrate every human holiday in like a week so he can experience what it’s like lol

On the day you celebrate Valentine’s Day he gets you every cheesy gift he’s ever seen humans get each other

“Jun how am I supposed to sleep with this many giant teddy bears in my room?”

“You’ll figure it out”

Then you two celebrate Christmas and he definitely sets up mistletoe on every doorway

You don’t miss how tightly he holds you at night

Or the way he looks at you like you’re about to disappear

Or the way he always needs to suddenly reach for you to make sure you’re there

You know something is off

Why would your guardian angel suddenly show up out of the blue to spend your life with you?

“Junnie, you’d tell me if I was gonna die right?”

“What? [Y/N], what makes you think you’re gonna die?”

He comes and kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his

“I don’t know, sometimes you just act like... this is all going to end at any moment.”

Jun knows he should tell you

But he just wants the two of you to stay in your little bubble for as long as possible

“It’s just because I love you so much, and I just want to make sure you’re always safe and happy”

He clings to you even tighter the next few days

He knows he has to tell you asap so he wants to give you the best days of your life

He’s so doting

Makes you breakfast every day

Is always right there to show you affection

Wrapping his arms around you from behind

Resting his head on your chest and gazing up at you

Ruffling you hair

Pressing kisses all over your face

Letting his hands stroke up and down your arms and then all the way down to your fingers sending goosebumps across your skin

And then one day he gives you a gift out of nowhere

It’s a beautiful necklace that looks like one single angel wing

“Oh Junnie, I love it” you say putting it on immediately

You quickly notice that he’s wearing a necklace with a matching wing

“[Y/N], I need to tell you something.”

He sits close to you and strokes your hands with his thumbs as he lays out the reality of your situation

His heart is in the pit of his stomach by the time he’s finished and he’s ready for you to run away and leave him behind

But when you assure him that you also want to make the most of every moment you have left

He’s so happy he could cry

So you start to take him on all the typical cheesy human dates

So that way the two of you have plenty of happy moments together while also getting to experience everything

The carnival

Picnics

Walks on the beach

Stargazing

And it’s honestly perfect every time

When he stares lovingly down at your face, stroking his thumb slowly up your cheeks then leans in to kiss you slow and sweet under the stars, you feel like you could fly

Your happiness is short lived though

You’re not even surprised when two men show up at your door asking where Jun is

Despite not being surprised, you are devastated

The two of you put up a good fight

But the ending was inevitable

You watch helplessly as they drag Jun away from you

But before he’s gone completely he calls out to you

“If it’s in this life or the next, in this world or another, I will come back to you”

And as you see the look in his eyes during those last few moments

And see his expression as he says those words

You know that he will

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nighthaikyuu · 4 years

Text

letters | 02

they were just words on pieces of paper. words he never wrote himself. but those words were enough to make you go from living a fairytale relationship to one filled with burning questions, envy and uncertainty.

m.list ch.1 ↞ ch. 2 ↠ ch.3

pairing: kuroo tetsuro + gf! reader

word count: 1.8k

genre: established relationship! au + angst, fluff

previously...

Taking the letters out, your eyes scanned for the dates. To your dismay, many of them were sent to him after you guys got together. Taking a deep breath, your grip on the letters tightened before you let yourself fall into a deeper hole, feeling your heart shatter as you read every single word, one after the other.

❝Kuroo,

I miss you.

except you probably already know that right? after all, I've only said it about a million times in these letters.... i sometimes wonder whether you even read them when you never reply, but after everything I did it wouldn’t surprise me if you saw these and just ripped them apart.

god, I miss you so much kuroo. ever since that day, every day without you has been a reminder of how badly I messed up, how badly I fucked up and let you go. i’ll never forgive myself for that.❞

You quickly realized maybe this was why Kuroo never brought up his past relationship to you. From what you read, it wasn’t hard to see that it didn’t end well.

Thoughts raced through your mind, what did happen? You wondered if she cheated on him, but the thought in itself caused a surge of anger within you. Placing the letter back into the box, you read the next one.

❝Kuroo,

sometimes I think about the nights we spent just lying outside the gym after practice, staring at the stars as we whispered promises of forever’s and always’ to each other.

life is a funny thing isn’t it?

but I meant every word kuroo, every single word. I wasn’t able to keep up my promises but I can promise you every word I said was true and genuine. I loved you so much, and I still do and forever will.❞

Biting down on your lip, you hated how the feeling of jealousy for this girl you didn’t know, burned through your veins. You felt pathetic, after all this was a relationship that was over yet you couldn’t help but feel it was anything but that.

❝Kuroo,

do you know how many times I’ve blocked and unblocked you on social media? while I never wanted to see you again because your face was the constant reminder of the biggest thing I lost in my life, I couldn’t keep away. not from you kuroo, not when I still see the others around and they pretend to be nice but I know they all hate me for what I did.

last night I visited nekoma, and that night I went back and unblocked you. however, I really wish I hadn’t.

she makes you happy, doesn't she?

it hurt a lot to see. I saw you took her to where you promised we’d go together one day. but more than that, it hurt to see the way you smiled at her, how your eyes were filled with so much affection and adoration for her. it hurt to know I used to be the one who saw those eyes everyday once. how badly I wish I was her.❞

At the mention of you in the letter, your chest tightened. So she did know you existed.

You frowned softly when you read about the picture she had seen on his social media. The very first couple picture he had posted of you was from the trip the two of you took to the beach during a long weekend break from school. You had always remembered that trip as the time where you really fell for Kuroo, the night where you were lying on the beach with him as you whispered your very first I love you’s to each other, would be something you’d never forget.

But now you felt sick.

❝I'm sorry,

god, kuroo please, please I'm so sorry. please respond to my letters, I don’t know what to do anymore.

I'm still so in love with you kuroo, from the day I saw you to when I broke your heart, to now. I never stopped and I never will. please forgive me and come back to me. I promise I'll be better, I promise you kuroo. I still must be there in your heart, please just give me one more chance. ❞

Sitting there as you finished the most recently dated letter, a sudden wave of emptiness washed over you. You had a million questions. You wanted to know the meaning behind every word, every sentence and every letter she had sent Kuroo.

But more than that, you wanted to know why he still kept them.

But you couldn’t. You didn’t have the courage nor the strength to ask them or to find the answers. You were too scared.

You felt the corners of your eyes sting as dangerous thoughts plagued your already weakened mind. Why didn't he throw them away? Was he still not over her? Did he still love her?

As the voices in your head only got louder, screaming as they overtook the ones that attempted to give you hope, you pulled your knees to your chest as you choked back a sob.

Oh how unfair life is.

The next time you saw Kuroo was that following night. It was finally the end of the week, and like every Friday the both of you sat on the couch with bowls of popcorn in your lap as you flipped through Netflix to find a movie to watch.

Usually you’d be cuddled up by his side, head against his chest as he’d rest his in the crook of your neck. Today, you found it difficult to even look his way.

You knew you had to play it off better than this. Kuroo was quick to realize when things were wrong and it was only a matter of time before you ran out of random excuses.

“Hey, you okay?” a voice whispered beside you.

Guess you were already too late.

Turning to your side, you forced a soft smile on your face before nodding at Kuroo, “Yeah, think I’m just tired this week is all.”

Concern washed over his features. Frowning, he asked, “You wanna talk about it?”

"No!” you sputtered out as you eyes went wide. You watched as Kuroo blinked at you in surprise before you immediately shook your head, chuckling nervously, as you attempted to cover up your sudden outburst. “No, it’s okay...it’s nothing new or anything. Just classes and club responsibilities all piling on top of each other, ya know?”

To that, Kuroo simply nodded but you didn’t fail to notice the skeptical look he gave you as you quickly turned your attention back to the screen in front of you, keeping your face as stoic as possible despite the million thoughts and emotions that ran through you at that moment.

You were such an idiot.

After what seemed like nearly forever, the movie came to an end. Grabbing the remote off of the coffee table, you turned off the TV with a yawn as you got up from the couch and stretched your arms up in the air.

“Kuroo, I should probably get going—Oh!” you yelped in slight surprise as you felt your boyfriend wrap his arms around your waist, his head nestling into the crook of your neck.

“Mmm, don’t go~” he whispered softly into your ear, “Why don’t you stay over tonight, huh?”

You almost let out a bitter laugh.

Any other day and you would’ve gladly accepted, easily making your way into his room to quickly find one of his t-shirts you could wear to bed.

But there you stood, staring at the door to his room and you instantly felt nauseous. Today, that was the last thing you could do. Not when you’d be sleeping right above the scraps of paper stuffed in a box hidden away from you, right above a secret that Kuroo had kept from you, and that you had found out about.

Turning around in his arms, you looked up at Kuroo who stared down at you with a sleepy expression; his eyelids were drooping as he gave you a soft smile, lips in a small pout. All you wanted to do was grab his face and pull him into a kiss, to feel that adorable pout against your lips.

If only I hadn’t found the box... you thought to yourself, biting the insides of your cheeks.

No, if only Kuroo hadn’t kept those letters. you corrected yourself. If only he had thrown them away, you would’ve never found them and you wouldn’t be here, feeling like the world’s biggest joke.

As you pulled yourself from his grasp, you watched as his pout dissolved into a small frown as you said softly, “I don’t think I can tonight Kuroo, maybe some other time, hmm?”

Frown deepening, Kuroo only pulled you closer before engulfing you into his arms, your head resting against his chest as he held you tighter. The both of you stood that way for a while until you heard him finally sigh, “Okay, I’ll let you go then.”

Pulling away, Kuroo gave you a soft smile before cupping your face with one hand, fingers grazing your cheeks gently as he started to lean in.

You felt a sinking feeling erupt in your stomach once you knew exactly what was about to happen.

Oh god, what should I do? Should I just let him? Will he able to tell something’s off? This is too much—!

Just then, you felt his lips brush against your forehead, kissing it firmly before pulling away slowly.

Your eyes that had been squeezed shut in fear, opened slowly as you blinked at him in surprise. You almost swore he was going to kiss you...

“Goodnight Y/N.” he said softly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

Nodding, you whispered back a goodnight kuroo before grabbing your things and heading to the door. Opening the door, you turned around and gave him a small wave, which he returned back with a smile.

Finally stepping outside of his apartment, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in this whole time. Your whole chest felt like it was on fire, like you had been breathing smoke for the last couple hours from the fire that had been lit in your heart ever since you laid your eyes on those goddamn letters.

Running your hands through your hair, you let out a soft groan of frustration. It hadn’t even been a day and you were barely able to make it through without wanting to expose everything.

“You can do it Y/N.” you whispered firmly to yourself, “You just need some time.”

You didn't exactly know what you were talking about. You didn’t necessarily have a plan either. Were you just going to ignore that the letters existed? Were you hoping on just forgetting they existed? Or were you just waiting for the right day and time to tell Kuroo what you had accidentally found?

Shaking your head, you brushed the questions away. They could wait.

Now all you wanted to do was get back to your room and get under your sheets, and hopefully not cry yourself to sleep.

general taglist

@lady-snavely @02hhsailor @killuaking @rae0fsunshine1317 @sugawaaras @findityourselffsworld @voids-universe @yams046 @visaintes @honeybacon @kuroos-babie @verbluehte @captain-janeway

letters taglist

@postsfromthe6 @yatoatyourservice @blanknearvana @airheadpillar @hopelesshawks @ysatrap @starry-magicshop @whenyouscream @mkkhaikyuu

#kuroo x reader #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction

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supernatural-jackles · 4 years

Text

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,834

Warnings: High Stress Levels, Mentions of the readers shitty Mom, FLUFF, All around cuteness!

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: Three parts left after this one! I hope y’all enjoy this part! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy Reading!!

Your head was pounding. Your vision was starting to blur and everything looked the same. You felt like you had been awake for forty eight hours. Your stomach was in knots, your chest was tight. You were beyond exhausted.

Finals were going to be the absolute death of you.

You buried your face in your hands, trying your hardest to clear your eyes and make them see one thing instead of eight. You had been at this for hours and nothing was sticking. You needed to pass this final. It was the most important one and you needed a seventy five in order to advance to the class you were taking next semester. You needed to learn the next twenty definitions and the process of seven more things and you literally had no idea how you were going to pull this off.

“Knock knock,” Dean called out from behind your door. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

“Come in,” you called out, trying your hardest to sound okay. Your bedroom door opened and Dean walked in. He was wearing his new pyjama pants that Sam had sent him as an early Christmas present. They had presents scattered all over them, and quite frankly they looked cute on him.

“Hey you,” he greeted you. “Still studying?”

“More like dying,” you sighed.

“Nothing’s sticking huh?” he frowned, taking a seat at the end of your bed, giving you a bit of space.

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I am not going to pass this final at this rate. I’m stressed out, exhausted and all I want to do is sleep for ten years.”

“Don’t say that, sweetheart. You just need a break,” he suggested. “Why don’t we go make some dinner and pie. I did the groceries so we’ve got some food in the house. I can make you one of my dad’s recipes and after we can make your grandma’s homemade apple pie recipe.”

“What are we going to make for dinner?” you smiled. “Mac and cheese? Winchester surprise?”

“I was thinking I could make your favourite chicken with some mac and cheese,” he said with a smirk.

“You know I can’t resist that,” you squinted at him.

“I know. That’s why I’m making it. You gotta come out of this room and you’ve gotta eat something that’s not dried cereal or leftover beef jerky from our road trip nearly two months ago.”

“You’re making me sound like I have a problem,” you giggled.

“You do. It’s called being overworked,” he chuckled. “Kitchen. Now. Then I need you to watch a short movie with me. Give yourself a break. After that, we can kiss a little and I will help you study for however long tonight,” he declared proudly, looking at you with a sweet smile

“Okay. We’ll go with your plan, chief,” you said with a weak smile. “You win this time. You had me at kissing you.”

“Let’s go.”

The second you got to the kitchen, you felt guilty for not having your books in front of you. The worry of not passing this final was really starting to get to you. You knew Dean was right; that you needed a study break because nothing was going to stick if you kept trying to cram it in. He offered to help you later, and you prayed to god that it would stick in better.

Dean had the pasta noodles on, and the chicken already in the oven, like he was planning this all along. All that was left was to grate the cheese, and he was already halfway done. You just got to sit there, and watch him do what he did best.

“When I was little,” you started, glancing up at Dean, “my mom tried to teach me how to bake. Red velvet cookies were what I wanted to make because I saw a picture in a recipe book one day. So she found one that would work and picked out an afternoon to do so. I thought it was going to be fun. You know, spending time with my mom, just the two of us. But I accidentally dropped an egg on the floor, and of course it broke. My mom was furious with me and sent me to my room for destroying her good kitchen floor. All because the egg slipped out of my hand and fell.”

“That is terrible,” Dean frowned. “Accidents happen all the time.”

“It was,” you nodded. “She came into my room hours later with a single cookie for me to eat. It was the first time I looked at something and felt like I didn’t deserve it.”

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked, turning to face you.

“Because I feel like I don’t deserve you sometimes. Especially on days like today when I’m cranky as hell, and not so fun to be around. You’re here making sure I eat and don’t overwork myself, and I don’t deserve to have someone as great as you in my life.”

“Yeah you do,” he argued with a smile playing on his lips. “You deserve to have someone looking out for you, Y/N. You do the same for me.”

“Well, I’m glad I’ve got you,” you smiled.

“Likewise,” he smiled softly. “When I was growing up, my dad was the one who taught me how to cook. He told me it was a valuable life skill that I would need one day. I was always taught that it wasn’t just a woman’s job to cook for the family. I don’t remember a whole lot of my parents together. I was four when she died. But what I do remember is that they were happy together, and I wanted to have that one day.”

“Do you still want that?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve got you. I know my parents loved each other. Even if I remember them arguing, and such. I asked my dad about her from time to time, and he always talked about her with that same look on his face that he had when he saw her. Their love was something real. That’s what I want.”

“The real thing,” you teased. “Growing up, my dad was my best friend. He had this big office in our house that no one was allowed in but me. He had a chair in there for me, and a computer there for me to do work at one end of his desk. It was our space that my mom couldn’t enter. It was a safe place for me. His Sunday’s were spent playing golf, away from my mom. Those were supposed to be the days I spent with her but she never wanted to. She had her girlfriends over for drinks and I’d be shoved into my bedroom, away from everyone and everything. My parents never spent any time together when I was growing up. My dad travelled during the week for work. I spent Saturdays with him. The more I think about it now, I wonder why they waited until I was twelve to get divorced. They were never happy together.”

“That’s not fair to you,” he commented.

“No it’s not. It’s like some sort of arrangement for them, I think,” you agreed. “You want what your parents had, and I want anything but what my parents have. How strange is that?”

“Have you ever gotten along with your mom?” Dean questioned as he poured the cheese into the noodles. “I know Ketch said to you at the diner that night that your mom loved him more than she did you. Is that true?”

“Unfortunately yes,” you shrugged. “And for the longest time, that was so hard for me. I mean, my mom loved my boyfriend more than she loved me, and I was her daughter. God, my mom was more excited when she found out I was going out with Ketch than I was. Sure, his family is the richest, and their house is a million times bigger than this. Ketch literally doesn’t need a college degree for crying out loud. It’s not like we ever struggled with money. I mean my dad still makes amazing money and he bought this house for me so I wouldn’t have to stay with my mom while I went to school.”

“He’s got connections to everything and your mom liked that huh?”

“It made her look good. It was good for the parties and for all the people at the country clubs. It’s like he’s fucking royalty or something,” you scoffed. “My mom didn’t want me to go to college at first, actually. That’s one of the reasons why I’m so late in graduating. I fought hard to go, and she would only let me go as far as here. My dad fought for me. He knew I wanted my own life. My mom was determined. A girl like me shouldn’t have to work hard for one. The job at the hospital was hard enough work. At one point, she even told me I wasn’t smart enough to get in, which was untrue. It’s just not me. I can’t just sit somewhere and have everything done for me. I’ve never been that way, even if my mom tried to raise me that way. It wasn’t right. I think she thought that Ketch was going to turn me into someone that she’d approve of. A housewife. Someone like her.”

“I could never see you sitting back and doing nothing,” he chuckled. “You work harder than a lot of people.”

“Thanks, Dean,” you grinned. “I’m at the point where I’m trying not to care about her. I don’t answer my mom’s texts anymore. Her calls are ignored. I’m done dealing with it all. All it ever does is upset me and I’m tired of putting myself in that position. I gotta move past it all.”

“Good for you, sweetheart,” he nudged your shoulder. “You graduate in June right?”

“Maybe! If I pass this final and all my classes next semester, then yes,” you let out a dry laugh.

“You will,” he reassured you. “You’ll get home tomorrow feeling relieved that it’s over with and that you aced it. I’ll pick up some pizza and beer on the way home, and we’ll celebrate.”

“And I can pick the movie?” you asked with a wide smile.

“‘Course you can,” he winked.

You and Dean ate dinner with a constant flow of conversation. For the first time all day, you felt relaxed, and you knew that was going to do your brain some good. When you were to go back to studying, there was a good chance you were going to retain more than you could before.

Dean was the first one to finish, and he instantly started on the dishes. You couldn’t help but watch him as he worked. His muscles flexed beneath his shirt every so often. It had been a whole two months since you had slept with him that night, and the morning after. Your feelings had only grown stronger for him. You were taking it slow, enjoying the ride as you went on. Since you already lived together, you kept the sleepovers until Friday and Saturday nights. You didn’t want to rush this and ruin things. You wanted to still have that friendship between you. It was the most important thing to you.

You were slowly but surely moving past the whole, not good enough for him thing. There were still days when you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, and that was normal. Most of the time, he was the one who made you feel like you were. He was always making sure you knew that you were doing good, especially in the moments when you felt like you weren’t. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that you weren’t head over heels for him. This had the potential to become what his parents had. This had the potential to be something amazing.

You got up from the counter, placing your utensils in the sink and your plate on top of his. You reached for the towel, taking the first mug out of the sink, drying it off. Dean gave you a soft smile before returning back to what he was doing. Your heart began to race in your chest.

You wondered exactly what was going through his mind. If he was thinking about dinner, or anything else in specific. You wondered if he looked at you and thought the same thing you did when you looked at him. If he thought you were beautiful. If he thought he was lucky to have someone like you in his life. It was the little things.

There was a part of you that wanted to tell him that you loved him. You knew it wouldn’t be the worst thing to say, especially with how long he had been in your life. But at the same time, you were always the one who expressed how you felt first and that never worked out for you in the end. It was fear this time around. You didn’t want to push it so far only to have it crash and burn in the end. Dean was all you had at this point. You could wait. You could wait a lifetime for him. He was worth it.

“Pie time?” he chuckled, pulling the apples out of the fridge. A few weeks ago, you had decided to go apple picking one Sunday. He remembered the day you met him that you mentioned something about your grandma’s recipe needing fresh autumn apples. He thought it would be a good date idea for the two of you and it was. It was one of the memories you think about that makes you smile.

“Pie time,” you nodded.

You opened up the cupboard, grabbing your book of recipes. Dean was already pulling out everything you needed from the fridge. You stifled your laugh, knowing just how excited he was for this. Quite frankly you were too. He was like a kid when he was excited and you loved that about him.

He peeled and cut the apples while you made the pie crust. You worked side by side, bumping into one another a few times while you worked. You tried your hardest to focus on the pie in front of you, but when he stood so close, you couldn’t help but look over.

“You’re cute,” he muttered, taking a slice of apple, bringing it up to his lips.

“You’re cute,” you smiled, taking a bit of flour before flicking him. The white dust covering part of his shirt and his cheeks.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he threatened with a laugh, placing his hand in the flour before rubbing your face. “Much better.”

“Dean!” you shrieked, letting out a laugh. You smirked, inching closer to him, wiping your cheek on his shirt. He gasped, laughing in the process. “Okay, I actually have to finish this if you want to eat this tonight.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, flicking you once more before getting back to work.

You managed to get everything ready within half an hour. Dean added a lot of apples into the pie, and extra cinnamon. You smiled when he helped you with the top of the pie, patting it down with you. Your hands brushing against one anothers every so often. He took it when it was done, and put it in the oven for you. You were really looking forward to tasting it after this.

His hands made their way to your hips, backing you up to the opposite counter until you hit it. He lifted you up quickly, his body settling between your legs before his lips were on yours. His kisses started off slow and soft; chaste. Moving in a perfect sync with yours as his large hands travelled over the length of your back. You melted against him, allowing yourself to enjoy being with him like this. It was really nice to have a boyfriend that wanted to kiss you the way he did on a constant basis.

“You want to watch a movie, or a few episodes of Dr Sexy? You’re nearly caught up,” he pointed out as he placed a slice of pie on your plate. “Fuck, this pie is amazing.”

“Dr Sexy!” you stated. “Gotta see if Dr Sexy and Dr Tara get together. I’m glad you like the pie.”

“I love how into this show you are,” he let out a laugh.

“This is your fault,” you side eyed him. “I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.”

“Hey, this is on you too. I had no idea you had a medical kink,” he winked.

“So do you, Winchester,” you teased. “You and I both know if I dressed as a nurse, you’d have a field day.”

“There is no denying that,” he shrugged. “You’d make such a hot nurse.”

Dean pulled it up on the tv as you sat down in your designated spot. Right next to Dean. It was one of your favourite parts of movie nights. He’d always end up playing with your hair while the movie ended, and you soaked up every second of the attention he was giving you.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked about halfway through the episode.

“You just did,” you turned to face him with a wide smile. “What’s up?”

“What’s the plan after you graduate?”

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure yet,” you answered. “I have lots of options, and I think that’s what matters the most.”

“Which one sounds the best?” he questioned.

“Teacher’s college,” you breathed out. “The one my mom would hate the most.”

“For that reason?”

“That’s a bonus,” you chuckled. “But I think I could make a good career as a teacher.”

“My mom was a kindergarten teacher,” he revealed, giving you a soft smile. “I think that would be an amazing career path for you. You know I’ll support you in anything you want to do.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I have to apply at the end of January, so I still have time. But it’s definitely something I’ve thought about for a little while now.”

“You’re good at helping people. I’ve learned so many things from you,” he added. “You’d make an amazing teacher.”

The episode finished, and you needed to get back to studying. You couldn’t relax any longer. You needed to get these last few things down before you could go to bed. You flopped down on your bed, opening up your notebook. Dean was in not long after you with two mugs of peppermint tea. You knew that there was nowhere he’d rather be than here with you, making sure you got this material down.

It was around midnight when you packed it all up and crawled into bed. Your eyes were drooping, and words started to blend together. You studied the best you could and you felt a million times better than you did earlier. Dean helped you get down the last eighteen definitions and you had memorized the processes you needed to. You have this final in the bag.

Dean left your room to go lock up the house, something he did nightly for you. You flicked your side light off before curling into your pillow. A few moments later, you felt your bed shift, the comforter moving just a little, before the bed dipped next to you. Dean was sleeping next to you tonight.

“Gonna sleep with you tonight,” he whispered, linking his pinky with yours.

“Good,” you muttered. “Night handsome.”

“Night sweetheart,” he mumbled, reaching over to place a kiss to your forehead.

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

You walked through the front door with a smile playing on your lips. Friday were the best days. The start of the weekend. The best damn part of the week. You kicked your shoes off, heading straight for the kitchen with your bag in hand. You couldn’t wait to start the weekend off right with the man you loved.

“I’m home!” you called out.

“Hey beautiful,” a familiar voice filled your ears. Your smile only grew wider. Your eyes glanced over to the counter where he stood. The sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong, toned forearms that drove you crazy.

“Hey sexy,” you winked at him. “How was your day?”

“Great. Bobby gave me a raise today,” he revealed. “He said I had been working really hard the last few months and it’s paying off.”

“Dean! That’s amazing,” you grinned widely, dropping your bag to the ground. You circled the counter quickly, reaching Dean in an instant. You stood on your tiptoes, your lips crashing to his, kissing him hard as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he smiled, licking his bottom lip. “You’re my rock.”

“And you’re mine,” you whispered, reaching up to kiss him once more.

“How was your day, sweetheart?” he asked, tugging you in close to him.

“Good. No tears today. No parents to call. And it’s Friday,” you chuckled. “Today’s a good day.”

“How’s our baby girl?” he questioned. His right hand slipped from the small of your back to your growing bump.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

Dean kneeled down to your stomach, pressing his lips to the bump. His hand held either side of your stomach. It had to be the best thing you had seen and he did it over and over again. She already had her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger. She was going to be a daddy’s girl for sure. This was exactly what you wanted.

“Hey baby girl,” he said softly. “You being good for your mom in there? Not kicking her insides too much?”

“Not today,” you whispered.

“I love you, peanut,” he muttered, pressing another kiss to your stomach. “And I love you, sweetheart.”

“Not as much as we love you,” you smiled.

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

You shot right up, your eyes opening widely. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You swallowed hard, realizing that it was just a dream and it was the middle of the night. Dean was still fast asleep, facing your direction.

For a moment, it actually felt real. It actually felt like you and Dean were going to end up together, and you were having a baby together. It actually looked like life was looking good for the two of you. God, the way he kissed your stomach. Ugh, and the way he kissed you. It was everything you wanted and more. It was everything you wanted with the person you loved.

“You okay?” Dean breathed out, shifting a little. He never even opened his eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Bad dream?” He asked you, popping one eye open.

“No. Good dream. Best dream I’ve had in awhile. I’m just sad it came to an end,” you admitted.

“Dr Sexy?”

“Something better,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“What if you forget?” He cocked his eyebrow with his one eye still open.

“Trust me. I will never forget this dream.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response is what keeps me sharing stories like this!

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

Text

happy with you | H.S

A/N: For my darling wife @bfharry . I sincerely apologize for being late and I’m sorry this is so shit but I am stuck in a cabin in the mountains with terrible service and a horrible WiFi connection. I cranked this piece out earlier this morning for the #boyfriendathon fic challenge and I hope that everyone enjoys. Thank you to Olivia for putting this lovely challenge together. You’re aces babe and I love you!!!😘

P.S I did not edit but I probably will later!

It was juvenile really.

After six months of dating and two months of living together through a pandemic, it was bound to happen at some point. Living together was a lot of fun at first. It almost felt like playing house at first, every day filled with fun activities and countless kisses stolen from each other. Every morning you would wake up together before spending a little too much time kissing on each other in bed. Occasionally, the odd blowjob or facesitting excursion would get in the way of starting your work day, but you really didn’t mind. From there, you would both wander into the kitchen for tea(him) and coffee (you) before starting breakfast together.

Harry was a master chef, taking care of each and every minuscule detail as if it were surgery and someone’s life depended on it. You always sat back, clicking away at your keyboard until all of your work emails were sorted and answered. When breakfast was fixed, the two of you snuggled up in his breakfast nook while eating and talking softly. From there, your day consisted of buzzing around each other while you both tried to work without getting in each other’s way.

But it was bound to happen.

“You deleted my entire proposal, Harry!” The tone of your voice was harsh, a sarcastic laugh following your words. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now? It’s going to take me hours to retype that whole thing and it’s due in twenty minutes.”

“It’s not like I meant to do it!” He tossed his hands up, exasperated and frustrated by your snippy tone. He had already apologized for it a million times. “Bloody christ, you’ve got such a temper! I can’t undo it, so why are ya still yellin’ at me!”

“Because I’m so frustrated and at this point, I’m tired of seeing your fucking face!” It was out of your mouth before you could take it back. Your feet stomped along the tiles of the kitchen floor for a brief second before you were being pulled back into Harry’s chest. “Let me go!”

“You’re tired of seeing my face?” Harry sneered, his eyes growing dark as his face turned the perfect shade of red. “Then maybe you should go home.”

He released you then, stalking off somewhere until you heard a slamming door echo throughout the house. The sound flipped a switch inside of your brain, tears welling up in your eyes as you realized you overreacted just a little. You stood in his kitchen, sobbing as you tried to calm yourself down. You didn’t mean it and neither did he, but you were devastated that you upset him so much that he wanted you to go home. When you were done wiping at the tears on your cheeks, you sat down on the barstool at his kitchen island.

After a quick email to your boss, explaining why your proposal wasn’t sent and that you needed the rest of the day, you set off for Harry’s bedroom. The door slamming definitely came from downstairs and you assumed that meant he was either in his studio or he went for the pool house. You decided to give him his space as you crawled into his massive bed, resting your head on his pillow with a heavy heart and tired eyes. Maybe it was too soon for you to be living together like this? You loved Harry and you wanted your relationship to go the distance. But maybe things were moving too fast for you to handle. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to fight off another wave of tears that were building up behind your waterline.

“Darling?” Harry’s voice startled you, his presence a lot closer than you expected when you opened your eyes. “You alright?”

“No.” You whimpered, your lower lip shaking a little as you shook your head. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”

“Hey now,” He tutted, climbing under the covers before he wrapped his arms around your body. “I don’t want to hear you say that again. You weren’t being a bitch, you were just upset. S’perfectly normal and I’m not upset with you.”

“I didn’t mean what I said.” You cried into his shoulder, tucking your arms around his body as he cooed softly. “I love your face and I want to see it all the time.”

“I know, darling.” He let out a soft chuckle, brushing a hand over the back of your head as his lips pressed over your forehead. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I love being here with you and I really don’t want to go anywhere….but I’m scared.” You confessed, tilting your head back as you sniffled. Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you. He lifted his hand, pulling the sleeve of his hoodie over his finger before he wiped under your nose. “Gross.”

“You were dripping.” He chuckled. “Why are you scared, love?”

“Because this is all so soon.” You cleared your throat. “I don’t want us to fall apart before we even have the chance to start and I’m afraid living together is putting a strain on us.”

“All because of one fight?” He said. “We’re going to fight, darling. It would happen even if we were living separately, I know it would. It’s only natural to disagree with each other or to be upset when something happens. We’re only human.”

“So you don’t want me to go?” You asked.

“No, I really don’t.” He confessed. “And I’m honestly surprised we’ve made it this far without going for each other’s throats. Think we beat Mitch and Sarah out on that one.”

“Those two are so zen.” Your eyes widened. “They’ve been fighting.”

“Sarah’s drumming is very disturbing to Mitch’s writing process and she doesn’t like the way he eats pasta.” Harry rolled his eyes. “We’re going to be fine, love. But if you really want some time alone or you’re thinking about going back-”

“I don’t want to go anywhere.” You whispered. “I want to stay right here with you.”

“I wouldn’t be upset if you wanted to go home.” He said softly, pressing his forehead against yours. “I want you to be happy.”

“I’m happy with you.” With a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, you knew that everything would be okay. “But I really do have to say, Sarah has a point with that pasta thing. You know you slurp when you eat spaghetti-”

“Oi! I do not slurp!” He cried out, pulling back to look down at you. “You cheat at Scrabble!”

“I do not!” You laughed, shocked by his accusation.

“Why are you always on your phone then!” A smug smirk settled over his lips as your cheeks grew warm. “I knew it!”

“I don’t always know how to spell the words I’m thinking of!” You groaned, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“Well, if we’re going on about things we dislike,” He started. “Let me say a few things about you that I love.”

“Do tell.” You grumbled.

“I love when you’re sleepy because it’s almost like seeing you drunk. You stumble around and you forget what you’re saying in the middle of a sentence. I love when you’re snuggling up to my side even though we haven’t left each other alone for the entire day. It’s like you’re still happy to see me...to be with me even though we’ve been together for months now.”

“I am.” You whispered. “I love how thoughtful you are. Like, when you get out of the shower you leave the water running because you know I want to hop in before I get too cold. And I love the way you sing under your breath all the time, even when you don’t notice you’re doing it!”

“I do that a lot?” He asked, a soft chuckle escaping him as you nodded. “You know what else I love?”

“What?” You tilted your head back, looking into his eyes as he smiled.

“You.”

It felt as though the world stopped spinning.

It felt as though you were the only two left in the world and that nothing else mattered because Harry loved you. Like earlier, your eyes began to water with emotion and your heart was pounding hard against your ribcage. You felt so full and warm and happy and loved. Surging forward, you pressed your lips to his with a wet giggle. He was quick to accept your sappy and tearful kiss, molding his lips with yours in a perfect rhythm. When you realized you hadn’t said it back to him, you pulled away with a quick gasp. Harry's lips trailed over your cheek as you spoke.

“I love you, too.”

And despite the annoying things about your boyfriend that got on your nerves, you really did love him with your whole heart.

That alone was enough to ensure you that everything would be okay.

#I hope this is okay #insert that pouty sad eye emoji #I am struggling to write anything that isn't honeybee #and I feel like this is shit #boyfriendathon #is that the right tag?#liv tell me if it's wrong lol

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browniefox · 3 years

Text

Waking from the Long Winter

Ace Attorney - 5K Words

Phoenix Wright and a few moments during the ten weeks it takes to receive results from the Bar Exam.

A one-shot written solely for the half-joke I make within the first couple paragraphs lol. Character exploration of Phoenix finding himself again. Hinted narumitsu but just hinted.

oOo

Phoenix is sure there’s a joke here, somewhere.

Something about a lawyer walking into a bar, and then knowing to duck the second time. Or maybe not ducking, but running into it at top speed. Or trying to vault over the bar and getting his feet caught on it and falling on his face instead. There’s something there, he’s sure of it. More than anything, however, Phoenix wishes his brain would focus on the Actual Bar Exam instead of trying to make this stupid joke work.

He took the bar once before, of course. His memory of having done so, however, is shaky at best. Trying to look back at it, it’s nothing more than two days of pure stress. If he tries to pin the experience down to a word, it's just a really long and drawn out scream.

Taking the bar the second time, ten years later, is… different.

Phoenix studied, of course. Apollo had still had his flashcards and big binder full of notes. Slow days in the office were often punctuated with spontaneous quizzing on terms and laws and procedures. He’d spent late nights reading big law books and then falling asleep on top of them like he was in college again. He sat in on a lot of trials, reviewing the roles of the people in the court.

Now that he’s finally actually taking the Bar, it’s like a math test.

Obvious not as far as subject matter went. But it reminds him strongly of what taking a math test back in middle/high school had been like. Going into it scared and then being surprised by how quickly and easily he seemed to go through the questions. Of course, that also always ended with him getting the test back with a million red marks that revealed the test hadn’t been easy, he’d just been dumb.

For the first five minutes, nerves making Phoenix fidgety, the Bar exam had been scary and the words had refused to form comprehensive sentences. He’s pretty sure he almost had a panic attack. But then the five minutes pass, and Phoenix takes a few deep breaths, and when he opens his eyes again, he realizes he actually does know this stuff.

He was a lawyer, once, seven years ago. It feels like that should be more than enough time for him to have forgotten what being one was like, for all of the words to have become greek to him once more. And yet, his previous cases stick out to him on the page. Yes, he remembers using evidence law for the Skye case, he knows this. Ah, yes, he remembers studying this case because it reminds him of the Powers one. There’s even a question about spirit mediums at one point and Phoenix almost laughs out loud.

It probably also doesn’t hurt that he’d kept his enemies close during his disbarment, as well as working on MASON.

Kristoph had often asked for Phoenix’s opinion on cases, setting out the evidence and asking for the ex-lawyer’s input and expertise. He wonders if it was supposed to sting, if Kristoph had been trying to rub salt into the wound. If so, he had succeeded, sometimes. Other times, it’d been nice to fall back into those familiar ways of thinking, of trying to piece together a story, of trying to find justice.

Phoenix would never ever thank Kristoph for anything ever, but he did admit there were unexpected rewards for having put up with him for so long.

oOo

Paying for a barber hasn’t exactly been in the budget for years.

Not that there weren’t places you could get a haircut at fairly cheap, but every single dollar and penny counted. Even the months where things looked alright, where there was a comfortable sum left over after rent and taxes and food, most of it was set aside for when the rough times would return. They always did.

“Just a trim?” Trucy asks. She wears the fake mustache she insists on wearing every time he asks her to cut his hair. Her own was just trimmed by him, the floor littered with split ends. There’s layers throughout it, and now that it’s started to dry back out he can see his handiwork and nods to himself. The days of terrible and uneven cuts while trying to watch a video tutorial are well behind both of them, years of practice instead showing through.

The swivel chair from the desk has been moved into the bathroom and Phoenix looks at himself in the mirror, his hair for once not bunched up inside of his beanie. It’s long enough to pull back with a hair tie. Trucy is already gearing up to cut off an inch, the same inch she cuts off every time to keep it from getting too long. For years, that’s been the only reason to cut his hair. He runs his fingers through it. It’s to his shoulders right now and he blinks when he realizes that he hates it.

He hates how the long strands get in his face. He hates how sometimes he pulls his beanie off and his hair is staticy. He hates how if he doesn’t pull it back while cooking, if he has something on his hands, he has to awkwardly flick his head in usually-futile attempts to get the hair out of the way.

He hates it and he’s hated it for a while. But for some reason, every time before now, it’s felt easier and safer to keep it long and annoying.

“Actually,” He says, and then hesitates. He’s had his hair like this for so long now, and shorter hair… He steels himself and straightens a bit, “Actually, Truce, could you go a little shorter this time? Just, you know, a little-”

“Don’t worry, daddy, leave it to me!”

There’s a mischievous little glint in her eyes and Phoenix almost changes his mind, but she’s already spun the chair around and started cutting. Phoenix closes his eyes and waits. Trucy hums as she cuts his hair, and usually she does little tricks with the scissors, but this time she’s just cutting. He tries not to think about how close to his head the scissors sound, how much she must be cutting off. He’d asked her to, and he hates how long it was, and yet now that it’s too late to change his mind he’s nervous.

“Alright!” Trucy chirps and spins him back around to face the mirror. Phoenix opens his eyes.

A young lawyer, full of hope and trust and pure stubbornness, stares back at him.

And then he blinks, and the man has little tired wrinkles around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth and prominently between his eyebrows. He still has the couple-day-old stubble that he had yet to shave. There’s dark shadows under his eyes. He runs a hand through his hair. It spikes up in the back, just like it used to, just like it always has, like how his mom used to hate and try in vain to flatten down.

“Well, what do you think?” Trucy beams at him.

“It’s perfect.” He says.

And it’s true.

oOo

Phoenix has never owned a perfectly tailored suit in his life. He never found an issue with this. Off the rack was just fine, and a lot cheaper, and you didn’t have to worry about anything happening to it.

Apparently Miles thought that this was an issue.

Two weeks after Phoenix took the bar, Miles drags him to get a new suit. Phoenix stresses that his old suit was perfectly fine. He at least assumes it's fine. It is shoved somewhere near the back of his closet and by now is probably made up of as much dust as fabric. But it should still looks like a suit, and he can probably send it to the dry cleaners or something if he ever needs it.

Still, Miles insists on dragging him to get a new suit.

The people there all recognize Miles right of the bat, greeting him as ‘Mr. Edgeworth’, with a lot of ‘So good to see you again’ and ‘Are you here for the usual’ and ‘How is dear Ms. Von Karma doing’. His answers are amicable enough: ‘It’s nice to be back in the country.’ ‘No, not today, I’m here for my friend.’ ‘Franziska is doing well, thank you.’

Phoenix sees how they look at him when they don’t think he can see them. They don’t know that Phoenix is well used to being on guard constantly, no matter the time or place. He cedes that maybe he should’ve worn something today other than his hoodie and beanie and flip flops, especially with how the ‘flip-flop-flip-flop’ is just shy of echoing throughout the large store. He knows they must look an interesting pair, prim and perfect well put together Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth next to disbarred pianist and poker player Phoenix Wright. He doesn’t let it bother him as Miles picks around the room, finding suits that he approves of.

There’s too many shades of blue. Half the time, Miles holds up two and asks which one Phoenix likes more, and they look exactly the same. Still, they eventually end up with a few different ones for Phoenix to try on, and Miles and one of the men - the tailor? Maybe? Or the owner of the store? - walk around Phoenix and critique how it looks on him and then send him back to try on another. It reminds Phoenix how much he hates shopping. The whole process of having to try things on and take them off and then repeat is just a bit too tedious for his sake.

Miles more than Phoenix decides on which suit is best out of the ones he’s picked out, and then Phoenix's measurements are taken so that it can be fixed to fit him just right.

They’re looking at the ties, the last thing to grab before they leave, when Phoenix finally says,

“I haven’t passed the Bar Exam yet.”

Miles pauses for a second, then hangs the white tie back up. He doesn’t turn to face Phoenix but his eyes do glance over.

“You took the test.” He says, and Phoenix can hear the unsaid in there. ‘You took the test, right? You didn’t lie about that? You didn’t purposely sabotage your own test? You haven’t done something incredibly stupid already, have you?’

“I did.” Phoenix nods, and means ‘I really did. I gave it my all. I tried my best, I swear it.’

“Then you’ll need a new suit.” Miles says.

“But I haven’t passed yet.”

“Mm,” Miles hums, grabbing a dark red tie and looking it over, comparing it to the swatch of fabric that matches the color of Phoenix’s new suit, “You’re not going to fail.”

“But-”

“If you fail, then you’ll still have a new suit. There’s more reasons than being an attorney to own a nice suit, you know. If you ever eat somewhere nicer than the Borsch Bowl, for one. Or I have a wide array of incessant events I’m expected to attend throughout the year. They’ll be more manageable if I have someone there with me, but there is usually a dress code. Or perhaps I’ll be in need of a co-council at some point. I could use your eyes, and lord knows they’ll let absolutely anybody co-council, qualifications be damned.”

Miles doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Phoenix. He does, however, pick a wine red tie and add it to the growing stack.

oOo

When he moves the items off of the piano, he’s careful to make sure he remembers where everything goes.

It’s his office, it’s his piano, and while maybe most of the things he takes off aren’t his they also haven’t been touched in weeks, and he doubts that Trucy or Apollo would notice anything different. Still, he feels oddly like a kid sneaking food out of the cupboards while his parents are out. Trucy is setting up for a show and Apollo is out looking at a crime scene. It’s the perfect chance.

He lifts up the covering from the keys of the piano. He sits down on the bench, and a chill rushes over him that isn’t there. He can almost hear the sound of the Borscht Bowl, the clamour of patrons. He’s played this piano so few times, he can count them on one hand. He’d given practice a couple tries when he first got hired, until it became clear that being paid not to play was probably just as lucrative - if not more so - than actually having the skill.

Phoenix rests his hands on the keys, cold ivory under his warm fingers. He’d taken classes, once, years and years ago, when he was small and young. His piano teacher then had been an old and nice woman, but she’d had to stop teaching after a few months due to health problems. He can still find middle C, and that is more or less where his skills end. Usually, when someone requests a song, he plays ‘hot cross buns’ or ‘heart and soul’ or any other classic of the sort.

This time, Phoenix lets himself bang around with wild abandon on the keys, like he had as a kid, caring little for melody or timing or anything at all. The piano is probably out of tune. Not that he can hear that sort of thing, but it's a fair and safe bet to make. The piano hasn’t been played in a long while.

He steps away for a moment and runs a finger over the spines of the books on the shelves until he came across a thin one, so thin that the spine didn’t have any kind of title, just staples holding the pages together. Some hot-shot customer had come into the Borscht Bowl, slapped the ‘Beginner’s Piano Lessons’ book on the top of the piano and declared that Phoenix was going to need it once he was beaten at poker that night.

Of course, Phoenix had won. He got to keep the book anyway. By ‘got to keep’, he meant the customer had punched Phoenix in a fit of rage after losing and had been kicked out, leaving the book behind. Phoenix had kept it.

He isn't any good at reading music, but he has the afternoon to himself. He gets out a pencil, writing the letters above the notes, counting the keys to make sure his fingers land on the right ones. It is slow, and tedious, and not something he has to do. It's something he's doing because he wants to.

oOo

Phoenix has a love-hate relationship with Parent-Teacher Conferences.

He loves to go when the teachers will tell him ‘oh, Trucy is a joy to have in class! Trucy brings such a brightness to the classroom! Trucy is brilliant, what an amazing daughter you have! She’s so talented!’ And then Phoenix gets to beam at Trucy, and Trucy gets to glow under the praise, and then he gets handed her report card that he can place on the fridge so he can look at it every morning and be filled with pride again.

He doesn’t so much like them when the teachers look at him funny.

Look, Phoenix is an adult, he can admit that his appearance took a pretty sharp decline after he was disbarred. But some days it was all he could do to put on the hoodie and beanie, and he had learned pretty early in how to rationalize it all away as ‘putting on an act’, as trying to get Kristoph to underestimate him. However, an adult man who adopted a daughter, and thus had had someone declare him fit to raise a kid, looking like he was one trip to McDonalds away from being completely broke wasn’t always the best way to present one’s self to other adults, especially ones on high alert make sure their students were in a stable living condition.

One time, Trucy had even had to warn him to clean up a bit. She’d picked up on the worried questions her teacher had been asking her, about how often she ate and what her dad did for a living. Phoenix had put on actual shoes and a button up for that PTC. The teacher had still looked at him suspiciously, but he’d done his best to exude confidence and ‘I’m perfectly capable of raising a child on my own’. He couldn’t risk losing Trucy. If he lost Trucy…

He can’t lose Trucy.

Of course, the days of those sorts of PTC’s are behind them. Now that Trucy’s in high school and has eight different teachers, PTC’s consist of going between the school’s cafeteria and library to find Trucy’s teachers, get told if she’s a good student or a distraction or doing well or doing poorly, and then heading right to the next teacher. Some teachers they just outright skip, like Trucy’s gym teachers.

“C’mon Daddy, you have to dress up too!”

Trucy spins around in her magician outfit. The straplessness of the dress made it against the school’s dress code, so she never got to wear it to classes. She’d been talking about showing it off during the PTC, when school wasn’t technically in session, and Phoenix knew that she was probably going to take the chance to dazzle her teachers with some of her smaller tricks as well.

Put that in the list of reasons why he did like PTC: getting to see people be amazed with Trucy’s close-up magic tricks.

“Trucy,” Phoenix sighs.

“No, please? I always get dressed up, and you never do.” She pouts, crossing her arms.

“That’s because you’re the star of the show tonight.”

“But you’re my assistant! Please, just this once? I know you don’t like getting dressed up, but...” And then Trucy hesitates, which is so unlike her it catches Phoenix’s attention right away, “But I’d like it.” She finishes. For a moment, the room is plunged into darkness that only Phoenix can see as chains shoot out of nowhere and a single psych-lock places itself in front of Trucy.

Phoenix sighs one more time. He’s not going to pry, not unless it becomes a big deal.

“Sure, can’t have you performing with a sub-par partner.” He relents and Trucy claps her hand excitedly.

He goes back into his room, reaching for a button down. Something simple, he figures. Just something a little nicer than usual.

And he sees the suit Miles had bought him.

It’s in a big black bag to keep it safe from dust or whatever. Almost without thinking to, he takes the hanger off the rack and sets it on his bed, unzipping the bag and looking at the suit. It’s so much like to his old one. He runs a hand over it and then almost puts it back. But if he can’t wear it to a PTC, how can he wear it to any of the myriad of events Miles had listed off? He used to wear a suit everywhere. It had been border-line mandatory.

“Hurry up, Daddy, or we’ll be late!”

Phoenix jumps at the banging on his door.

“Just a minute, sweetie!” He shouts back.

It feels… different. He blames that on the light blue waistcoat that Edgeworth had insisted on. That, and the fact that it was a suit that was made to fit him exactly. His old suit had been second-hand, all that he’d been able to afford at the time. The blue, what many people seemed to remember about him, had been due to lack of options rather than real choice.

He looks at himself in the mirror, running a wet hand through his hair to try and get it into some semblance of presentable. He still has his stubble. He hadn’t shaved this morning. It’s not too late to tear off the jacket and vest and go with his original plan of just a button up.

“Daddy!” Trucy calls again.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” He shouts back, and with one last look at himself, one last effort to convince himself he looks fine, leaves his apartment looking more like the Turnabout Terror than he has in years.

oOo

More of Miles’ things seem to come weekly.

Apparently Franziska is doing a deep and thorough cleaning of the Von Karma estate. She keeps finding more things, and so boxes and boxes turn up on Miles’ doorstep.

Phoenix finds himself spending a lot of his time in Miles’ office, and it means he ends up spending a lot of time helping Miles unpack boxes. Some of them are things that really shouldn’t have surprised Phoenix, like Steel Samurai manga and dvds that Franziska has unearthed from hidden corners of the estate. Miles had admitted he’d kept them anywhere he thought Manfred wouldn’t look. Other little things like that showed up - small mementos or notes, most of which seem innocuous, but that Miles insists would’ve been disapproved of.

There are also other things, like pens or books or pictures. Some of these do belong to Miles while others of them are items Franziska 'didn’t wish to hold on to any longer’. While that seemed to be the case with some, it only took looking at Miles face to confirm for Phoenix that a lot of them had secret sentimental value.

He never understood their relationship. He’d been an only child, and while there were people he was close to, he’d never grown up in the same building with them, nor under the harsh condition Miles and Franziska had. He's glad he doesn't have to jump through the weird hoops and unsaid rules that Miles and Franziska do when navigating anything to do with the other.

“Okay, you can’t tell me these are important.” Phoenix holds up a pair of scissors. They’re cold and pure metal, no plastic handle like the three pairs Phoenix himself owns. All three of them always go missing at the same time too, which completley defeatst he point of having so many pairs.

Miles sighs and rolls his eyes. He’s sitting on the ground in front of the bookshelf. With the most recent influx of books, alphabetizing them means that the previous books need to be pushed to the next shelf, and it has created a chain of necessary rearrangement to every subsequent shelf as well. Phoenix has seen Miles force the work onto some younger prosecutors or even unlucky detectives, but with Phoenix here he does it himself.

“Open them up.” He says and Phoenix does just that. There are initials welded into the metal, M.E.V.K. Phoenix raises his eyebrows.

“Miles Edgeworth… Von Karma?” He says, just to be sure, and Miles nods.

“Mm, yes. Those are my shears. Franziska insisted on the initials so that if I ruined my pair, she’d be able to tell they were mine right away, and I wouldn’t be able to try and steal hers. She took them to get initialed herself.”

He speaks of the event with the calm and cool that is so Edgeworth, but Phoenix has learned to read between lines. He runs a finger over the four initials. Von Karma. The household Edgeworth had lived in and belonged to in all but the official name change. The name that he was able to carry on these shears.

“I’ll put them in your desk.” Phoenix says instead of the millions of other responses running through his head. He’s standing in front of it anyway. He pulls open the first drawer as Miles says,

“No, I’ll be taking them home. They’re fabric scissors, Phoenix. Using them on paper will ruin them.”

Phoenix’s response to that completely leaves his head when he sees the small golden pin in the drawer.

“What’s this?” He says, more to himself than Miles. He knows what it is, and yet he asks anyway. It’s a defense attorney pin. He can see the petals, the image of scales in the center. It’s not as if he hasn’t seen one recently, he has defense attorneys working for him, after all. But it’s so out of place to see one in Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth’s office that it takes him completely by surprise. He picks it up, turning it this way and that.

“Is this... your dad’s?” He asks, the first answer that comes to mind.

“Is what- oh. No. It isn’t.” Miles is looking over now, and there’s something in his voice that makes Phoenix’s brow furrow. He sounds… hesitant? Scared? Nervous? None of those seemed quite right, but Miles didn’t seem completely at ease. Phoenix returned his focus to the pin.

There are teeth marks in it, like someone had bit into it at one point. The edges of it are worn slightly, softened with time. It’s nostalgic to look at.

It’s even more nostalgic to turn over and see the number 26381.

“Wait, this is…!” Phoenix stares at the number, the number that is burned into his memory. He’d memorized it soon after receiving the pin. It was his number, the number that meant he was really a lawyer, that he had done it.

“... yes. It is.” Phoenix looks back up. Miles is still looking at him, the odd expression still there. Not hesitance, not nervousness, not fear.

Anticipation. Miles is sitting there, watching in anticipation, as Phoenix finds his old defense attorney’s badge in Miles’ desk.

“You have my badge.” Phoenix says. He turns it back around to stare at the face. Yes, that bite mark… that was from Ema, wasn’t it?

“I do.” Miles confirms.

“Why?” Phoenix says. He weighs the small pin in his hand and then tosses it, catching it easily enough. It’s so light and small.

Miles considers both Phoenix and the pin, eyes tracking the movement of the pin as it goes up in the air again and then returns to Phoenix’s palm.

“I didn’t want anyone else to have it.” He says. He’s still anticipating something.

“I see,” Phoenix says. And… he thinks he does, “You never told me. Would’ve been a lot easier to have given it to you personally instead of having to take it off and give it to the board.” He gives Miles a half grin.

“They wouldn’t have accepted that. They’d be upset with you.”

“What would they do? Disbar me?” Phoenix jokes. Miles looks like he’s trying not to crack a smile at the joke. It’s a joke at Phoenix’s expense, but the pain of the event has been numbed by time, and the joke is made to Miles.

“I suppose there wasn’t much they could do at that point, no,” Miles agrees, “It would’ve been easier to have gotten it from you personally. I had to pull some strings to get it.”

“And you didn’t tell me.” Phoenix brings up again.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“I thought you’d want it back.” Miles answers honestly.

Phoenix looks back down at the pin, his pin. He can see himself, six or five or even three years ago, finding out that Miles had his pin and begging the man to give it back to him. It had meant so much to him. Its absence had meant even more. It wasn’t as if he would’ve been able to do anything more with it than Miles had been doing; he’d have stuck it in a drawer, and on his worse days he would’ve pulled it out and cried over the small piece of metal.

Maybe if he’d found out a few years earlier, he would’ve been upset at Miles for not telling him, for keeping this from him. It was his badge, after all.

But now, seeing it placed in the top drawer of Miles’ desk where he could quickly open it and look at it whenever he’d wanted to, it fills Phoenix with something warm. This whole time, it hadn’t been locked away somewhere, or handed off to some rookie, or tossed away. It had been with Miles, watched over, polished, kept safe.

“Thank you.” Phoenix puts it back into the shelf, closing the drawer. The anticipation finally leaves Miles to be replaced with relief.

“It was my pleasure.” Miles smiles, and Phoenix returns it.

oOo

A lawyer doesn’t cry until it’s over.

For seven long and painful years, through even terrible twist and turn in the road, Phoenix hadn’t cried. Oh, he’d come close several times. Times where everything had started to get to him, when his chest had shaken with the sobs he so desperately wanted to let out, when he was reminded that he wasn’t a lawyer anymore, that the rule wasn’t his rule anymore. And yet the tears never came. His face stayed dry. And he’d rise again to carry on.

The packet comes in the mail ten months after the test.

It’s thick and heavy. He’s home alone, Trucy at school and Apollo doing some last-minute preparation for a trial. Sometimes it seems like the kid has better luck getting clients than Phoenix ever did.

He knows what the packet is the moment he sees it in the mail slot. He feels numb as he carries it to his apartment. He considers waiting to open it, but that seems like putting himself through unnecessary cruelty.

There’s a knife in the kitchen and he grabs it so he can cleanly slice open the top. It feels wrong to rip into it like an animal.

His shoulders shake as he slips the knife under the flap, his eyesight becomes blurry as he cleanly cuts across the top.

Win or lose, pass or fail, Phoenix thinks he knows how Godot felt at that trial. He imagines that if someone was watching him with the magatama, they’d see a final psyche-lock, placed firmly there when Phoenix had first started to close himself off for the war against Gavin, break apart.

Alone, in his apartment, for the first time in seven years, Phoenix cries.

It finally feels like it’s over.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #fanfiction #fanfic #browniefox writes #i shall post fic here #as a treat to myself

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eleanorbloom · 4 years

Text

When You’re Ready Ch. 13

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: Bit of angst and cursing.

A/N: Hello! This chapter is shorter than usual because I decided last minute that the last third fitted better in next chapter. Eleanor went really deep today trying to figure out her feelings, so, even if could seem a bit boring, it’s really important for the next two chapters.

I also wanna give a special thanks for all the support I’ve recieved from all my works! I can’t believe we are on chapter 13 already! When I updated my masterlist today I realized that this will be my 20th work publised here! 20 work in two and a half months. That’s a looooot 😲😲 So, thank all of you for your constant support and patience with my mistakes and my experimental writing. Currently this is not as difficult as it was in the first chapter, when I had no experience writing fiction in english, but now that I have more confidence, I’ve been experimenting with style and more elaborated words, metaphors and situations, so thank you for your patience in this matter, I hope I find my voice and stick to a more stable style soon hehe.

BIG HUGS to all of you!! ❤❤

I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @laiba-the-person @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @bratzlahela @mckenzie-bae @mercury84choices

___________________________

Chapter 13. Million Reasons.

I’ve got a hundred million reasons to walk away

But baby, I just need one good one to stay.

Tchaikovsky was almost inaudible among the horns and cars passing by the streets of Boston. It was hot for midday, and as much as the AC was the best way to mitigate the heat, Eleanor would always prefer the Bostonian wind percolating through the window at her side of the car.

She was lost in the people walking hurriedly through the sidewalks with who knows how many concerns, joys, and miseries, in a quick game of people-watching to shut her mind for a second. To forget she was alone with Ethan in his car on their way to the Harbor Marina. To ease the pit that she feels in her stomach every time she expects something from someone. A sign of useless hope, disappointment guaranteed. A pain of hope that would always turn into deception.

And now, even with all past experiences, with all the painful conversations in mind and the heartbreaking goodbyes playing in her mind like a broken record, there she was, waiting for something from him again. Her biggest flaw always manifesting.

She could’ve avoided the trip, make an excuse, politely decline, but it would’ve been evidently unprofessional refusing to go with Ethan just after what had happened the day before. He would have known. He knew her enough to notice it. And if she wanted their working relationship back, she had to act professionally. Set an example. And the simpler way to go with it was asking Esme to check on her patients while she was away and then joining him in the parking lot at the agreed time.

She didn’t know what to expect, though. She didn’t even know if she should expect something from him at this point. Worry, apologies, more arguing, more recriminations.

What she actually wanted was to confirm he wasn’t the asshole he was yesterday, that he didn’t mean what he said. That the man she still loved wasn’t this selfish and hurtful. But of course, she had to have in mind that the apologies may not come as she expected, or that they may never come.

But her desire wasn’t created out of nowhere. The moment she saw him this morning, she knew something was different. The cold glare, the conscious ignoring, the distance. There was none of that. Somehow, she felt like the wall between them had fallen. His eyes were looking at her differently, his demeanor towards her was soft, and even his voice wasn’t grave as it used to. But maybe it didn’t mean anything. He had just understood he couldn’t keep being this cold and unprofessional, and he was ending all that and now they would act as nothing happened. Like this almost two months didn’t happen, and they are two friendly colleagues.

“May I ask how are you doing? I’ve been worried about you after what happened yesterday.”—Ethan asked giving a quick glance at her.

Eleanor was taken aback. Although she was daydreaming with the best possibilities, she didn’t expect his words all of a sudden and decidedly mentioning the discussion they had yesterday.

She turned her head to her left and stared at him defiantly, determined to not give in so easily, even if that conversation was all what she wanted.

“You were worried, really? Yesterday it didn’t seem.”

His shoulder slumped imperceptibly at her response, though he tried to remain imperturbable.

“I know. I know it looked like I didn’t care about what you were feeling, but at that moment, I felt… overwhelmed with everything.”

As Ethan didn’t continue, Eleanor turned her head forward, fixating her eyes on the car that was upfront them. After a few moments, she felt how Ethan glanced at her every few seconds.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you gonna say anything?”—Ethan said after a minute of silence and no reply to his first question.

“Like what?”

“Like how are you doing? I told you I was overwhelmed at that moment, that’s why I reacted that way. But I am genuinely worried about you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just had the stupid hope that you would explain why it was so overwhelming to you to the point of not giving a fuck about the mess I was. My bad.”

“And what should I say?”

“For god’s sake, Ethan.”—She snapped in a jaded tone.—That’s something you should know considering what happened yesterday. If you think you did something wrong, of course, ‘cause if you think that you were all good all the time, there’s nothing left to talk”

“I…”—He stopped as the words couldn’t come out of his mouth.

A brief moment later Ethan parked in the Harbor Marina, and Eleanor didn’t even wait a second after Ethan turned the engine off, to get out the car and walk to the spot where Caroline Bloom indicated the yacht would be parked. After a minute, Ethan appeared behind her with the ultrasound in tow, just as she found Leland and Caroline talking with a group of people on the deck of the yacht.

“Ah, Doctors! Just in time! We’re about to set sail.”—Leland greeted as Eleanor and Ethan stepped in the boat.

“Where can we set up. Mr. Bloom? Somewhere private is best”—Eleanor asked motioning her head to the machine.

“Later, later, I was in the middle of an important discussion and I’d like to finish it before you resume your poking and prodding.”—He chuckled at the incredulity on Ethan’s face, and then added: —“Relax, make yourself at home. I’ll be with you as soon as I can”

Ethan tried to stop him, but Eleanor spoke before he could say anything.

“We're on a boat, Ethan.”—She pointed with obviousness.—“He’s not going anywhere, and it’s not like Tobias can sneak ahead of us while we’re here.”

And without expecting a word from him, Eleanor turned around and walked to the opposite side of the boat looking for a quiet spot to sit in and take in the stunning view that was forming as the yacht navigated across the sea.

Soon she got absorbed by the deep blue ocean in front of her, the saline smell, the brisk air, and the luxury of the quietness, feeling free from all the noises, smog, and the suffocating heat of that summer afternoon.

Those involving feelings made her wonder how different it felt from the fragment of the sea she was swimming yesterday evening. It was the same sea, the Atlantic Ocean, boarding the same city, Boston, with only a dozen miles away, but still, it made her feel so different.

How the depth could add so much beauty, when it is so terrifying and risky the farthest you are from the shore, from the safety zone? Because the farthest it is, the more mysteries and dangers can be found inside.

How much you can find if you jump and dive into the immensity of the ocean, with equal parts of wonders and terrors waiting for you at the bottom of the sea? Is it worth the risk? Or it’s better contemplating from above or just from the safety zone?

Soon she realized that the same question applies to people. The deepest connections come with baggage, unknown baggage. Equal parts of wonders and terrors, or maybe more terrors than wonders or the other way around. It’s unknown, but most of the time, jumping and diving into the depth of a person, between their fears, traumas, manias, dreams, feelings, could worth any risk, even if it’s a pure gamble.

Did that apply to what made her love Ethan? She had been looking for the answer for months, even in the oddest and more impossible places and situations, and today it wasn’t any different. Maybe the water had the answer.

Was it the sense of deepness? Since the beginning, they had a deep connection, even if it wasn’t romantic at first. Ethan understood her way to see life, her passion for medicine, and to help as many people as she could. And she, in return, could understand that he drives his life by a series of principles, that the medicine and the people come always first. But how deep she knew him actually? It was inches from the shore? Feet? Miles? Was she willing to go for miles away from the shore and jump in? Take the risk of getting to know the deepness of his heart, with hall his pains, frustrations, limits, and flaws?

And what about Bryce? She couldn’t help but think about how poorly she knew him on the inside at first, even when they began dating. She knew his charms, his strengths, his qualities, his capacity, but never knew his fears, his flaws, his failures, his deepest regrets. And now she knew him. Since she met Keiki, everything changed, and the missing part that stopped her from loving Bryce on another lever was filled like a jigsaw. He used to show her exactly how he felt. Tired, scared, angry, sad, jealous, all of it. And that was an important component to love a person unconditionally, fully. To fall in love. Something that she had found difficult before Bryce let her in. And now she could say with all honestly that there wasn’t a single part of him that she didn’t like.

The deepness… Something she had always been craving but maybe never knew what it meant. Past friends and lovers made her believe she found it. But it wasn’t. She thought she found it with Ethan. Hard not to. It was a grown-up man, smart and curious. He always had a way to push her and understand all her motives and what drove her in life, so it gave her the sense that that was the deepness she had always been looking for. But now that she has met a new kind of deepness with Bryce she had to wonder: Was it what she was looking for? That’s what she wanted in love? Or Bryce had had the answer all along?

She was so immersed in the profundity of her thoughts that didn’t hear the steps approaching her until Ethan stood by her side and offered her a lemonade.

“Oh. Thank you”—She said startled, looking at him for a brief moment before turning her eyes to the front again.

Ethan cleared his throat and imitated her, fixating his eyes on the water swiveling in front of them.

“I knew there was something between Lahela and you.”—He said after a few minutes of silence.—“I heard rumors, and even Naveen told me he had seen you with him, but I couldn’t believe it, I didn’t want to believe they were true. I thought you were having a fling with him and nothing more than that. He does seem like the guy with whom you just… sleep with and have nothing serious.”

“Wow, even you get carry away with reputations, looks, and prejudices? You of all people, Ethan?”

She turned to face him, changing the cobalt of the sea for the sky blue of his orbs. It was an act of bravery. His eyes still managed to make her feel weak. There were too many memories linked to those beautiful sky eyes.

“I have to admit that I did. That’s why I couldn’t believe it, and that’s why yesterday I reacted that way. I couldn’t understand that you were so naïve to be with a man that was just using you. I could have never imagined that he… that he could be serious about you and be deserving of you.”

“The number of sexual partners of a person doesn’t say anything about them. You can’t judge a person by that.”

“It’s not the number, or what does he do with his life, it’s just that he seemed to be a person who can’t commit and respect you, so I was worried he might be fooling you.”

Eleanor snorted.

“You talking about commitment? Oh, god, you cannot be serious.”

“Why not?”

“You have no idea what commitment is. You always ran at the slightest idea of commitment when I mentioned it.”

“That’s because I know my faults. I took a step back because I know what I could and couldn’t give you, and I thought he couldn’t give you enough.”

Eleanor looked around, checking if there were people near that could hear their agitated conversation, even if she was trying to be as discreet as she could be.

“You thought, you thought.”—She repeated, irritated—“You just assumed things, but never cared to ask. If you were so worried about me, why the fuck you never asked me what was going on?”

“Because it wasn’t my place to do it.”

“Oh, but yesterday you did seem to have a place to say all that crap about Bryce.”

“I know. That was very disrespectful. I shouldn’t have interfered in your private life like this”

“Disrespectful?! Really, Ethan? You insulted my boyfriend in my face. You told lies about him in front of me when you didn’t even dare to confirm your suppositions. That wasn’t unrespectful, it was hurtful, selfish, and cruel because you didn’t do it just once, you did it twice.”

He sighed and his shoulder slumped as if he felt defeated at the mention of the word boyfriend coming out of her mouth. As if he had been still in denial, but there was nothing left to deny now.

“I know, it would have been better if I asked you, but… We were nothing to ask you something so personal. I was just your boss and your colleague.”

“Are you sure about that, Ethan? Because let me remind you that aside from all the Gwyneth thing, you ignored me from the moment you started suspecting I was dating Bryce, because yeah, I always knew you were suspecting. So, you weren’t acting just like my boss, you were my jealous ex-something who ruined my first months in the Diagnostics Team just because you were a coward that didn’t have the balls to face the truth, as always.”

Ethan stared at her ruefully. He wasn’t capable of saying anything, but the least he could do was nod and accept her accusations.

The uncomfortable look lingered only a couple of seconds before they were interrupted by Leland Bloom announcing that he was ready to let them examine him.

An hour later, after spending the rest of the trip chatting with Caroline about her husband and the possible missing information about his symptoms, and socializing with the rest of the guests, Ethan and Eleanor got in the car as soon as they put a foot in the Harbor Marina.

A few minutes after Ethan drove onto the main highway, he broke the silence between them for the third time.

“I’ve been thinking about why I never asked you about Lahela.”—He started— “And the truth is that I didn’t know how to deal with the fact that you could love someone else.”

She felt a lump inside her stomach as she noticed how painful those words were for him. How much he didn’t want to say them. How much he hated to be in that position.

“Ethan…”—She whispered, completely moved by his vulnerability. –“But why? Why you let me go if you weren’t sure you wanted that in the first place?”

“It was the only thing that I could do, Eleanor. I wasn’t ready, and I think I’ll never be ready to let you go, but I had to do it for your own good.”—He scratched the back of his head— “I could’ve never imagined that it would hurt so much seeing you moving on so easily.”

She gave him a humorless smile even when he wasn’t looking at her.

“It hasn’t been easy, Ethan. I have a constant fight inside my head, every day. You have no idea how scared I am at the possibility of breaking the heart of the only person that has given me everything, and the constant guilt of not being able to love him the way he deserves. It’s a nightmare, and has been hell after you indirectly started blaming me for doing something I only did for me, because I needed to heal after you left."

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Eleanor. I know I shouldn’t have made it more difficult than already was. I was so selfish.”

Eleanor shook her head, incredulous.

When Ethan parked outside Edenbrook, Eleanor turned to him.

“Why, Ethan? Why you always have to get to the point where all that’s left is your apologies? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s all you know. I’m always forgiving you, and I’m tired of that. When will be the time when you won’t get to the point of hurting me, of avoiding say you’re sorry and just… do the right thing?”

He couldn’t say anything.

His posture stiffened as he closed both hands on the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. She was right and he couldn’t hold how angry he was at himself anymore.

“Listen.”—She said in a conciliatory tone. —“This hasn’t been easy for any of us, that’s a fact. We both have our ways to deal with the pain. I chose to do it by giving myself the chance to love again, because someone offered me a way out, knowing perfectly well what I had been through and respecting my boundaries and my fears. You chose to do it the worst way. With denial, jealousy, and selfishness. It was wrong but now is your chance to make it up by leaving us in the past and by being the boss, the colleague I need, but no more than that.”

He nodded.

“Eleanor…”—He took her hand before she could get out of the car.—“I understand what you’re asking me, is what you truly deserve but… I need to know if... that’s really what you want?”

She faced him again

“Why is it important now? You never cared about what I wanted, only what was ‘good’ for me.”

“I know, but maybe I’ve realized that I was wrong. That there are more important things that what I consider good for you.”

“I think is too late for that.”

“Is it really too late? Even if you’re still in love with me?”

Her eyes widened for a second when she felt a shiver down her spine. She never thought he would react that fast. Maybe he knew he was racing against time. He wasted so much time these months and he had to act quickly.

What was happening, was something she had dreamed for weeks since he left, and maybe a couple of times since he was back; but now she didn’t know how to react. What to feel. What to expect. It was confusing. Bittersweet. Because it felt wrong. He couldn’t open the door to Ethan just like that, even if Bryce had ‘allowed’ her to, because those weren’t the circumstances she had imagined. However, that’s what she got, and she had to take charge of her choice.

What she was about to say had a mixture of feelings. She couldn't deny that there was hope, but it wasn’t the same as the hope she had four months ago when he left. It was clouded with fear, the fear of making the same mistake again, and it was tinted with the feeling that she was doing something wrong. Maybe, deep inside, she didn't want to do it, but she felt like it was her last resource.

And the other feeling was… Bravery, she knew opening the door would help her to put in order her feelings, just as Bryce told her the day before. If she let Ethan be the man she loved, maybe there was a chance to know if she was willing to jump the ship and dive into the deepness of his wonders and terrors. She sensed that only getting to know him as he really was, would, at last, find out if she still loved him or she was just trapped to a part of Ethan that only existed in her memory.

It was risky, it would be hard, but that was what she probably needed to end all this tiring process. In any case, it was just open the door to possibility, but not to let him in.

“Maybe not.”

He couldn’t help but smile with relief.

“Don’t get your hopes too high, though”—She added—“I’m still with Bryce and I won’t break up with him just because maybe you gonna try to make things work out between us.”

She was opening the door, but she wouldn’t make things easy for him. Bryce hadn’t had things easy with her and took a big risk. She wouldn’t let that Ethan think he had some sort of advantage just because she was in love with him. If he wanted her, he’ll have to strive.

“I understand.”

“Okay, anything else? Because I’m done with this situation.”

“Just one more thing.”

“What?”

He stared at her for a few seconds, trying to transmit sincerity and regret.

“I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday, Eleanor. For how I made you feel and what I said about Lahela. That was totally out of line and wrong. I shouldn’t have let it affect me this bad, but it did, and I hurt you on the way. I am sorry. I know you don’t want to hear any more apologies, but you deserved a better apology than what I gave you earlier. I hope this is the last time.”

Eleanor remained silent for a few seconds, thinking. She was done with grudges and fights. She got what she wanted and had no intention to prolong the bad relationship between them. After all, she always knew Ethan wasn’t bad on the inside. But he made mistakes and he’ll have to live with them, at least until he proved with facts that he was really sorry, and those weren’t empty words as usual.

“I accept them, but don’t expect things to go back like they were before.”

He nodded with somber eyes.

A moment later, she got out of the car without looking back.

_____

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aitarose · 4 years

Text

my gaang for nationals part 1

contains: permanent appreciation post for some of my really really close friends/mutuals (if you’re not in this i’m sorry, but i’d love to talk more if you’re interested!) in no particular order. where they fit in the scenario in which we’re all in haikyuu

notes: i love making these and i love you all, so here’s something that randomly came to mind when i read hesther’s love fest :) also, i’m clearly a libero asdjfkl. oh and there will be a part two to this for my other mutuals, but i’m tired and want to stop typing sooo that’ll come tomorrow maybe

↳ directory

@firelordhesther: hes

↳ general words:

hello mother, i’m rewriting this paragraph because i’m pretty sure you managed to read the first draft and i wanted to surprise you so here’s something new. i’m going to be nice since this is a public post and i don’t want strangers to see how much ~love~ i have for you. you’re the only one who can tell me what to do, like i actually listen to you which is weird..i don’t even listen to myself usually. ngl you scare me sometimes, but it’s a good kind of scary. ily..i guess. see you whenever i decide to drive down to the yeehaw land.

↳ team position: captain

besides the icky stuff up there, i think that you’d be the team captain if we were on a volleyball team. you have a way with words in which you can reign chaos in with a simple paragraph. you’re also very authoritarian, whether you mean to be or not, and then you give everyone advice in a nice way that doesn’t make us feel stupid. i’d listen to you if you were my captain, and i think everyone else would too.

@nekomabvc: lina-chan

↳ general words:

you’re my favorite person to harass. you’re literally me but in a nicer and whiter font. i really like making obscure memes about you and then emailing them to your personal email. that’s funny—besides all of that you’re like my bff lina-chan..my internet bff. my irl’s get really annoying sometimes and it’s nice to know that i can just text you and you usually answer, unless you’re doing your million step bathroom routine. and whenever i’m on the phone, ella always thinks i’m talking to you and it’s really annoying because i don’t like you..but also like..aishiteru.

↳ team position: setter

you always say that setter is the only position that you’d physically be able to play, but i feel like you fit the position personality-wise as well. you’re very in control with everything around you, you like things to be a certain way and get frustrated when they’re out of place. you think logically over creatively, and would take control of the team in a way that no one else could. when you get in the zone, you can be really motivating and you’re good at guiding steps and practice. you’d be a really good setter.

@calcifers-newjersey-accent: ella

↳ general words:

hello. i hate you. cancel quesadillas.

↳ team position: middle blocker

first of all, you’d be total middle blocker perfection considering your height and stature. bitch be literal tsunami in femal forme. you’d be jumping and popping and going BOP BOP to all those balls, and everyone would be like woah! she’s really good! anyways, you’d be a good defense because you’re always ready to help someone in need, whether that’s physically or emotionally. that’s it. my brain hurts from saying nice things.

@agniikaii��: kyle (kaail)

↳ general words:

kyle you’re my favorite asian, other than my little irl asian bitch named after a fucking spice, and i love calling you kyle and making frat references that you don’t understand. you’re very funny and i really like horny hours because i get to see all of the hot men that you like, even if they’re blonde..ew. you’re twelve hours ahead of me, and that twelve more hours that you have to do calculus homework, and that sucks..deal with it ig. find that derivative!!

↳ team position: wing spiker

you’d 100% be on offense. you’re like hinata, you’d bounce around and just pop those balls down to the floor. you’re small and probably fast if you really tried?? i don’t know how online gym works, but i bet you’re killing it girlfriend! you go! keep those boys thirsty! i’m laughing at myself idk what else to say. you have an aggressive side sometimes, and i can just imagine you bringing it out on the court.

@pxnk-velvet: angie

↳ general words:

angelina argentina anal michael. you are so very talented in the creativity it astounds me. you’re such a good artist and have so much potential as a writer it’s just, augh, so proud. you make me laugh when you say Periodt! with that peppa pig meme, and you always send it even when it makes no sense in the conversation and it just makes me giggle hehe.

↳ team position: ace

i don’t know if you know what the ace does yet, but they’re basically the powerhouse of the team. you definitely DEFINITELY have an aggressive side, and we’ve seen it come out a couple times and you would be perfect for this position. mwah. just perfect. with you as our ace, we’d never have to worry about that stupid wall and you’d just be the best. that’s it. the best.

@councilspectres: my new wife (just married)

↳ general words:

HELLO HANNAH. i don’t know if you’re ever going to see this, because you never saw my last one pain, anywho that doesn’t matter. what matters is you’re very nice and funny, also horse girl, and you pop in at fun times. i can’t wait to go on our honeymoon to wyoming and have a great time with those horses. love u.

↳ team position: teacher advisor

i don’t think you watch haikyuu, and this is obviously not an actual position on the team—but you give off such takeda energy it’s crazy. he’s such a nice guy and just wants the best for everyone, he’s always there for them when things get tough, but also doesn’t hover. you’d be the best teacher advisor, and all the other clubs would be jealous.

@probablydisgusting: sophia

↳ general words:

hi sophie. your dog is super cute and i added myself to the private story today, but besides that you are very VERY funny and i really enjoy listening to your tangents, because it feels like i’m not the only one who can talk forever. you were the very first person to interact in the original chat and that’s really cute and i miss those days even though the snap gc is much better.

↳ team position: pinch server

you definitely don’t watch haikyuu, but if you know anything about volleyball you’d know that the pinch server is someone that the entire team relies on to change up the game. they come in when the team is at their wits end and save the say, which is just like you when you randomly pop into the chat and entertain us! you’d be a fire pinch server and would cheer SO loudly from the sidelines.

#.appreciation #my gaang

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kookiepalette · 4 years

Text

Geography Progect (Pt.1)

pairing(s): min yoongi x reader

summary: everyone has that one class that they hated the most and there was nothing in the world that could make that person like it. it was like a pain in the ass that wouldn’t just go away.

geography was that pain in the ass for y/n as it was a requirement for the junior to graduate the next academic year. with the help of her crush and countless of youtube videos, maybe geography wasn’t so bad after all.

word count: just over 3k

warning(s)/tag(s): love, pinning, one-sided, two sided, romance, procrastination, mean professors

______________

Starring at the mouth of the professor who just went on and on about the creation of rocks, Y/N sighed into the palm of her hands, wondering what she did to deserve this type of punishment.

This wasn't the first time that Geography was becoming a bore to her as time ticked on and her eye lids were becoming heavier, and it certainly would not be the last time she experienced it.

The class did not spark anything within her tired body and Y/N dreaded waking up on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and pushing herself to be in her seat by 9:00 am, with at least something to take her notes on.

Looking down at the bareness of the first page of the designated notebook for the class, it was going on the third week of school and she still did not have any notes written down. It was a shame to say, but there was no motivation whatsoever on her part.

Every week since the semester started, she promised herself that she wouldn't slack off like she did the prior semester, but once she took a seat in her unassigned, but assigned seat, it was already game over.

This class was basically a bore to her and just another requirement for her to graduate on time.

If she could, she would have dropped the class in a heartbeat, but that would mean that she would have to take Astrology instead, and trust and believe, she didn't want to have that class either.

Why in the fuck did she had to learn about streaming discharge when ultimately she wanted to be a elementary school teacher? It did not make any sense to her, but then again, a lot of things was questionable in her mind.

Having that thought of leaving this forsaken place that she paid thousands of dollars for to a classroom that was hers, but filled with eager learning children, made her heart swell.

Matter of factly, the thought made somewhat of an impact on the young woman as she grabbed a pencil from her pencil pouch that resembled a panda and wrote down the last sentence of the slide before the professor went on to the next topic of today's discussion.

Of course, that determination only lasted for about a minute before the pencil once again found its home in the pencil pouch and that one sentence was all she wrote on that piece of notebook paper.

Focusing her attention back of the movements of Mr. Jackson, he was the epitome of a boring person. Having a pair of slacks as choice of style and a white buttoned down to compliment it with, that was what he wore every time she visited his classroom. There was never a different color shirt or even a pair of jeans whatsoever.

The gray-haired geography teacher never knew how to change it up and the colorful Y/N was frustrated.

Did he not have a wife or a husband to tell him to add some colorfulness into his wardrobe?

Sighing again for the umpteenth time today, Y/N moved her wondering eyes from the aging professor to different spots around the lecture room where other students made the cut of waking up this morning and having the energy to be present for today's class time.

Watching as some held pens in their mouths, listening actively to what the old man had to say, others were typing furiously on their laptops as they didn't want to miss anything for the upcoming exam that was in two weeks.

Which that reminds Y/N. She mentally made a note in her head that as soon as this class was over, she needed to go to the library and watch YouTube videos on Geography to ace her first exam this semester.

And lastly, there were students like her that wasn't paying any attention to the man who never sat down to teach, but just watch the clock above his head mocking them as it was ticking by slower than usual.

It was only Monday and those students, just like Y/N, wanted to call it a day and do nothing else that was deemed productive.

Drumming her painted fingers that were starting to chip on the table in front of her and keeping a hand on her chin, her tired eyes finally found what they were looking for, and the fire inside her cheeks could not stop spreading.

That something or that person rather, was no other than Min Yoongi and there was not a day that goes by that Y/N did not think about this man and what he brought to the table.

The way he tapped his pen on his composition notebook when he was also bored or to they way he puffed his cheeks when he wasn't done writing down the notes from the slide, but the professor only speeding to the next topic to fit everything in during class time, was fascinating to her.

She wouldn't say that she was in love with the dark-haired, browned eye man.

But she couldn't deny the jump in her chest when he was in her presence.

Taking in his appearance and what he wore that day, Y/N could only spread her lips at the figure below her.

The slender man wore a somewhat oversized brown sweater and paired it off with some dark jeans. With the countless of earrings taking a seat in the different holes in his ears to the Chelsea boots gracing his feet, who couldn't take note and at it to their Pintrest board later on?

It was simple outfit to say the least, but the way that he wore it and because it was Min Yoongi, it was the best outfit that anyone could have created.

And please don't let her get started on that hair of his.

It was back to his original black state at it has been blonde for the last couple of weeks, but the way he ran his slender fingers through it to create a disheveled look, made it so much more attractive.

But shit, anything he wore was attractive in the eyes of Y/N and she only had feelings for this man ever since this class started and that was three weeks ago.

She has been at the University of Stalworth for three years now and not once did she have to privileged of having this man grace her presence not once and she was still flabbergasted.

Feeling someone starring at the black of his head, Yoongi turned his hunched figure slightly to catch they eyes of that said person, but he cocked his head to the side as he was only met with his classmates focusing their attention to the lecture at hand.

Shaking his head while frowning, Yoongi turned around and focused back on writing notes to pass the time.

Feeling her heart petter patter at almost getting caught starring, Y/N thanked her quick reflexes as she focused her attention back on the man that was twice her age.

She really had it bad for the man that never said a word to her, but of course, she knew that this was only a crush that will probably disappear with time, just like the other ones that she had in the past.

Shrugging her shoulders at the thought of another crush being added to her list and nothing ever happening with any of them, Y/N new she was destined to live the rest of her life teaching and coming home to millions of cats waiting for her at her doorsteps.

And the worst part of that though that came crashing into her head at this time of day is that the fucking cats would probably not be happy to have her home, but more mad that she was invading their space!

As if they were paying the rent for her apartment and not her!

But now thinking about it as she cocked her head to side and actually thought about it.

How much would it cost to have that many cats in one apartment?

The cat that she already had cost her an arm and a leg every month! What about a hundred of those pesky little things?

Just thinking about it made her want to try even harder in life to not be in that situation no time soon.

Just a couple of years at least.

"Miss Y/LN?" Mr. Jackson stopped his lecture and looked up a few rows of the hall and made eye contact to the person that was interrupting his teaching. "Is there something more interesting at the back of Mr. Min's head than listening to something that will benefit your grade?"

Blinking her eyes as if she was waking up from a trance, Y/N was confused as she heard her name coming from the older man's mouth as he tapped his foot as if he was for her to say something.

"Sir?" Y/N asked in confusion as her voice rose a few octaves than it normal was.

Why was he coming for her when she did not do anything to be a distraction to this class?

"Once again, is there something more important on Min Yoongi's head than what is on my PowerPoint because if it is, I would certainly like to know," Mr. Jackson gave the disbelief girl a pointed look as a frown made its way to his wrinkled mouth.

Inwardly, Y/N wanted to shrink herself as tiny as possible as she was being called out in front of the whole class.

And shit, it did not make it any better that everyone had their eyes glued to her face, including the Min Yoongi.

Now he most definitely knew that she was a fucking creep to stare at him so openly and she could not wait to end back at home and drown in her misery.

More specifically with a carton of Ben and Jerry that was sitting in the back of refrigerator waiting to be eaten.

"No sir," Y/N finally broke the deadly silence as everyone in the room was waiting for her to answer. "There's nothing more interesting than your lecture," she finished off as she downcast her gaze with shame spreading throughout her body like wildfire.

"Well, I would like to think so as well," Mr Jackson shook his head at the young child before clicking his clicker to the next slide which so happens to be the last one for the day. "Please do not let it happen again Miss Y/L/N. I do not want it to become a reflection of your grade."

"Yessir," Y/N could only squeak out as she was beyond embarrassed.

This was a blow to her self-esteem and how could she ultimately rebound from this?

The snickers from the people beside her made her ears ring and it didn't make it any better that the stolen glance she made at Yoongi was the final nail in the coffin.

Seeing the ghostly smile tainted his pink lips as if he was enjoying the scene that played out in front of him as well, Y/N knew that that one carton of ice-cream waiting for her at home would not be enough to drown her misery away.

She most definitively needed more than three and that was just being generous.

......

Pulling the pink bubble jacket with one of her cold hands and grasping the now lukewarm coffee in the other one, Y/N cursed herself for deciding that today was the day to get out of the comfort of her bed and be productive today.

Of course, every day was supposed to be a productivity day, but when the weather app on her phone says a ninety percent chance of snow for the entire day and as well as for tomorrow, her body wanted to go back to sleep.

That meant nobody was in her presence at any time of the day and she could be comfortable in her own home.

Away from wandering eyes and the likes of others.

Finding where she wanted to spend the next couple of hours at, Y/N sat down her things and pulled the coat that was a Christmas present from her grandma years back. She knew that the quicker she get started, the quicker she would be done for the day.

Plopping down in one of the library's chairs with and uncomfortable grunt, Y/N should have recommended the university to put more money into the well-being of its students and not into the pockets of the higher ups.

But who was she exactly?

She was just a student just getting by, paying thirty thousand a year to get an education for the job she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

Getting past the hardness of her seat and the way the air conditioning in the building had her fingers trembling, Y/N turned on the computer to jump start her studying for the day.

Despite not wanting to do nothing on this Tuesday afternoon, she knew she needed to prove to that stinking professor that she was allowed to not do anything as long as her grades were high enough to do just that.

Typing into the engine bar on YouTube, Y/N could not stop herself from rolling her eyes at what she was typing.

Remembering the debacle she had to face in yesterday's class made her shudder in annoyance, and trust her, it wasn't from the below freezing temperature that she was currently stuck in.

Grabbing more ice-cream from the convenient store that was in route of her apartment and creating a safety net in her full size bed, Y/N truly kept to her word as she ate in misery.

Again, how would she know that daydreaming about anything and everything was not only going to get her in trouble with a certain individual that should not be named, but as well as called out in front of her newfound crush.

How embarrassing could her life get, knowing that Min Yoongi knew she was starring at him like he was the last piece of meat in a scarcity world.

"Fuck my life," she huffed as she clicked on the first video that hopefully would give her answer on the different glacial landforms on the North America continent.

Plugging her earphones into the computer and shoving them into both of her ears, Y/N could already feel the drowsiness over washing her.

Poking her lips out and focusing on the countless of videos that played after one other, Y/N felt more confident on what was going on in one of her classes now.

Who knew that the Green brothers with CrashCourse was going to be the answer to some of her problems?

Writing down the necessary things--well what she thought was important--and highlighting the main points, the notebook that once had just a sentence, was now looking more like a textbook.

Of course, as time went on and her handwriting was turning into chicken scratch, the snow outside was becoming heavier and as well as the sky becoming darker.

But that did not stop the determined woman. There are not a lot of times where Y/N had this energy to take notes, but when she did, she wanted to get the most out of it.

Ending a sentence with a period and stopping the video before autoplay went to the next one, Y/N decided that it was break time, and took the last sip of the now cold coffee.

Cracking her fingers and giving her body a much needed stretch, there was time for her to check her emails before finishing strong with her notes for today.

Clicking the email logo and waiting for it to load, Y/N sighed in tiredness as she could already feel her bed calling her name.

"Let's do this for a couple of more hours and when can head home," Y/N spoke to herself as if she was talking to a child.

That was the motivation for her and it always led to positive things in the past, but when her email loaded, all she could do was close her eyes and pray that this semester would not be her downfall.

The very first message that was on top of the food chain and waiting for her to open it, was no other than an announcement from Mr. Jackson, the devil himself.

Forcing down the insults that she wanted to scream from the top of her lungs to the pit of her stomach, Y/N clicked on it, knowing there was bound to be some bullshit spewing from his side of things.

Dear GY 103-011 students,

I hope all is well and you're guys are staying safe in this inclement weather. Per syllabus, this class has a project coming up that will be considered the first exam of this semester. I am reminding all of you now as the exam date is only two weeks away.

What the project is and based on is included in the link attached at end of this email. Because I am a nice professor, I am willing to let you guys work by yourself or with partners. Just to keep in mind, everyone should participate and I will know if it is last minute and or you didn't contribute at all.

Again, please stay safe as we are in the middle of bad weather and hopefully to see you guys tomorrow.

-Mr. Jackson.

Rereading the email over and over again, Y/N was somewhat content with having a project instead of an exam that was on paper. After realizing that she suffered from test anxiety after fainting during her ACT exam in high school, she always was thankful when she didn't have to take one.

Licking her chapped lips as she click on the link that told her the specifics of the project, the thankfulness for Mr. Jackson was starting to dwindle down once again as she read what she had to do to get a good marking on her first attempt of this class.

As clear as day, the project was basically collecting different types of soil around campus and determining what its type, its origin, and many other things that made Y/N more confused on everything.

Before this class, there was not a time that she thought that her small town, let along the world, had different types of fucking dirt.

Quickly reading the last part of the pdf, Y/N could only groan as the final thing to do was to write a lab report for her findings.

Remembering that all hope wasn't lost as she remembered the email, Y/N pulled her phone from her backpack and clicked on the GroupMe app for the class that was overtaking her simple life.

Typing into the chat, Y/N hoped someone in the class wanted to be her partner, and as well as teach her the different types of soil.

This wasn't a feat she wouldn't like to conquer herself and she was going to need someone to help her as well.

Not getting a response from anyone after awhile, Y/N just knew she was doomed from the start.

Knowing that she had her high school picture as her profile, they probably didn't want to work with her, knowing she like to stare at people.

Frowning at the words forming in her mind, Y/N decided that she needed extra time before going back to writing notes or starting on this project on her.

Typing in 'Funny Videos of Agust D in America" was the first thing she put in the search engine as she wanted to feel better and not cry in the middle of a library that barely no one used.

Before she could click on the video that she never seen, Y/N perked up when two GroupMe notifications popped up on her phone's screen.

Seeing that someone named Suga liked her message in the chat, Y/N could not help the smile forming on her face as he sent a private message as well.

SUGA: I saw that you're looking for a partner for the project and I was wondering if we could be partners.

SUGA: I also do not know shit about soil so I need help.

Hovering over her keyboard as she didn't know what to type exactly, Y/N was in the same predicament that he was in.

Y/N Y/L/N: What if I told you that I do not know anything about soil either?

SUGA: Well...

SUGA: Let's struggle together then.

Feeling like some type of weight has been lifted off of her shoulders, Y/N was glad that this person wanted to go with war with her.

Realizing that she didn't even know what this person looked like as their profile picture only showcased a cute, fluffy dog, Y/N wanted to know who was this person that she signed herself up to be partners with.

Not even wanting to delay anything, Y/N needed to finish the introductions and get started with this project.

Y/N Y/L/N: If you don't mind me asking, what's your name or is Suga your real name?

Waiting for the response to her question, Y/N decided to watch a funny video of her favorite artist.

Not even one minute into the video that she had gotten a reply and Y/N was ready to put a name to this mystery person.

SUGA: I'm the one that has the back of the head that you kept starring at in yesterday's class.

Dropping her phone onto the table and causing a loud thud that could be heard throughout the quiet room, Y/N could honestly say that her hear dropped to the bottom of her ass.

"Fuck my life," she mumbled to herself as she hit her forehead in annoyance.

How was she going to do a project with him when she can't even look him in the eyes.

But then again, she never had a one-on-one conversation with him to know that, but Hell, you get the point.

She was going to make herself look weirder without even trying around him and there was not enough Ben and Jerry's to go around for that.

Not at all.

#min yoongi #suga #agustd #preferences #imagines #romance #bts fic #bts suga #bts yoongi #Drabble #bts x reader

11 notes · View notes

keichanz · 5 years

Text

Working Hard

NOTE: TITLE CHANGE. previously titled Workin’ Hot

anyway, i totally meant to post this in the morning but when i finished it last night i forgot to send it to myself so i could post it at work. oops lol. and hey lookie that, just in time for Valentine’s day too! it’s not at all Valentine’s related, but it’s inukag and that’s all that matters amiright ahahha.

moving on tagging my ladies because if i don’t they’ll maul me in my sleep: @clearwillow @sssuperbartola @lemonlushff @tsukinohimeusagi @dangerouspompadour @meggz0rz @cammysansstuff @britonell @eternalnight8806-3 @bearpluscat @morikothehalfangel @hinezumi @ideasthatbuildcities @thunderpot @fantastiqueparfait @umacaking

sorry if i forgot anybody <3

also please note this is entirely unedited so beware the typos and other errors haha.

lol totally forgot to add this but here is a layout of Kagome’s office to get a better perspective.

“Damn dog’s working you to the bone today, eh, missy? When’s the last time you had a break?”

Kagome smiled, however she didn’t look up from the huge printer as she continued to feed invoices and purchase orders into the tray to be copied. The stupid thing kept jamming on her whenever she looked away for even a second and she was already behind schedule as it is. As it was, she’d have to stay at least until seven now instead of five like she’d originally planned, but that was because the maintenance guy had failed to show up at the allotted time of two pm to fix the malfunctioning air conditioner. He’d called and said he would be late, but hadn’t mentioned how late, and now Kagome was stuck after hours in a stifling hot office with no AC and with a million and one things she still needed to do. She was tired, and hot, and hungry, and she just wanted to go home, but she couldn’t leave until the damn AC guy showed up and she had no idea when that would be.

Her job sucked sometimes, but at least the people she worked with made up for that.

“Hi, Bob,” Kagome greeted one of their driver’s and only looked up once the last PO had gone through the copier. She sighed and collected the copies, stacking the purchase orders in a neat pile on the desk to be received later before taking the originals and filing back where they belong. She left the invoices on Sango’s desk to be done first thing in the morning; she knew her friend would appreciate the help, little as it may be.

“You know as well as I do that Tai has nothing to do with me still being here,” she said, walking barefoot to the filing cabinets; she’d kicked off her heels long before since it was just her in the office and Tai always locked the front door after he and Sesshomaru left for the day.

“I volunteered, and there’s too much to do to take a break. With Kagura on maternity leave and Ayame out sick, it’s only me, Sango, and Shiori to pick up the slack, but because Shiori’s still in training there’s only so much she can do.”

Sliding the last PO into the appropriate folder, Kagome shut the drawer with another sigh and finally turned to face her friend and favorite driver of Taisho Metal Finishing. Rotund, bearded, and with a perpetual flush on his face, Bob treated her like his own daughter and she in turn saw him as a sort of father. Though he constantly harassed and teased her, always stealing her keys and pretending to hide them somewhere in the plant, he also always asked how she was doing and made sure she wasn’t overworking herself. She adored him for it, and usually she would take the time to sit down and chat for a few minutes if she ended up staying late, but right now she simply didn’t have the time.

“It’s hot as balls in here,” he grunted and whipped a hand over his sweaty brow. “Drinking enough, at least?”

Smiling, Kagome ambled over to her desk and lifted up her cold water bottle in answer before taking a swig.

Bob nodded, satisfied, and finally allowed a grin to stretch his tanned face. “That damned AC guy still not here?”

Kagome wrinkled her nose and shook her head, taking another sip of her water before setting it back down and ambling over to the back table to grab the incoming PO’s. Back over to the printer, she fed them into the copy tray and poked around on the screen to get the settings she wanted.

“No,” she muttered and the annoyance was obvious in her tone. “He hasn’t called since the first time when he said he was going to be late, I don’t even know if he’s on his way, and—”

The printer whirred, beeped obnoxiously at her for several seconds, then flashed an error message at her on the screen.

“—and this stupid thing keeps jamming on me!”

Scowling, Kagome refrained from kicking it in sheer frustration – her bare and unprotected toes would not appreciate that act – and huffed out a harsh exhale before angrily jabbing her finger onto the screen to clear the message and start over.

Unable to keep from chuckling despite her obvious frustration, Bob shuffled over and patted her shoulder, squeezing once.

“Take a break, missy,” he told her gently and guided her over to her desk chair. Kagome gave in easily, thinking that perhaps he was right and it was time she took a break. “You’ve earned it. Now, if I leave to go unload my truck, will the printer still be in once piece tomorrow?”

“Oh, shut up,” Kagome laughed and swatted his arm. Bob released a hearty laugh, patted her back, ruffled her hair, and retreated back to the even hotter floor where his truck sat at the dock waiting to be unloaded.

Kagome watched him go with a fond smile. Bob had always been able to lift her spirits and make her day a little brighter and she was grateful to him.

Sitting back in her chair, Kagome grimaced when her clothes stuck to her sweaty skin uncomfortably and she sat back up, fanning her flushed face with her hand and blowing out her cheeks in another sigh. Of course the AC just had to go on one of the hottest days of the summer; it had to be at least eighty in the office, and it was probably reaching one hundred out on the floor where all the hot water tanks, ovens, and machinery were. She couldn’t imagine how the floor employees had faired today. The drivers at least had the reprieve of leaving to pick up and drop off orders in their nice air-conditioned trucks.

Wrinkling her nose, Kagome glared down at her blouse, bit her lip, and gave a mental “to hell with it” before unbuttoning it and shrugging it off. It was only her in the office anyway and she didn’t care if any of the drivers saw her in just a skirt and her camisole. Hell, they were probably walking around without shirts out there since the bosses were gone. No one to yell at them for it.

Feeling better already without her blouse sticking to her skin, Kagome splashed some cool water into her hands via water bottle and dabbed at her face and neck, sighing as the chilly water cooled her heated skin. It was a brief reprieve, but welcomed none the less. It was hot, dammit. She fished around in her desk for a hair tie and bundled her hair up into a loose bun, wondering why she hadn’t had the smarts to do this in the first place.

“Much better,” she sighed, feeling better already. “Alright, now back to—”

The door that led out into the plant opened up and an unfamiliar male voice called out, “Hello? I was called to fix a faulty air conditioner unit. Someone sent me up here to talk to a…Kagome?”

“Oh, thank god,” Kagome muttered to herself and then said louder, “Yes, hello! Just a moment please, wait right there and I’ll come show you where it is.”

Using her feet to drag heels out from under her desk, Kagome slipped them back on and stood from her chair, taking a moment to smooth out her skirt and make sure her hair wasn’t a complete mess. Hoping she looked at least halfway presentable, Kagome stepped out from behind her desk and—

“Oh!”

Either impatient or he simply hadn’t heard her, the repair man had followed her voice from the lobby into the office where only employees were permitted. Wearing stained coveralls with the repair company’s logo on the left breast, the man had black, greasy looking air that fell down his back in unkempt waves and leering red eyes that sent not so pleasant shivers crawling along the length of her spin. He grinned at her and Kagome took an involuntary step back, feeling a chill course through her entire body despite the stifling heat. The man set a heavy looking toolbox on the ground and advanced toward her, his scarlet gaze unabashedly dropping to ogle the cleavage bared by her clingy camisole.

“Um, s-sir,” Kagome stuttered and took another step back. “Y-you’re not allowed back here. Please, the—the AC is upstairs…if you’ll follow me—”

“Kagome,” the man murmured and his smirk had a sinister lilt to it. “Was it you I spoke on the phone with earlier? It was, wasn’t it,” he continued without waiting for an answer. “You’re even lovelier than you sound.”

Kagome paled. Oh god.

“Ah, sir, p-please,” she squeaked and hated how her voice wavered, “This isn’t—the…the air conditioner—”

“Can wait a few more minutes,” he murmured, his voice like a serrated knife cloaked in velvet; malice hidden behind purring tones and slick words. “I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Naraku. Pleasure to meet you, Kagome.”

The way he said her name had a sick, heavy feeling settling in her stomach and she swallowed several times through a throat tight with sudden anxiety. She offered a strained smile and backed up again. He followed her, seemingly either uncaring he was making her so uncomfortable, and completely oblivious.

Kagome suspected it was the former and it made her heart race.

“W-well, Naraku,” she said and licked her dry lips. His eyes followed the movement and she shivered in a mix of fear and disgust. “It’s…nice to meet you, too.” Lie. LIE. “I, uh, I can’t leave until you’re gone, so…if you could…go upstairs, down the hall, and to your left, you’ll find the room where the AC is.”

There was no way in hell she was going to be alone with this man for any length of time now. He can go find the damn AC by his own creepy self. And maybe she’d run out and grab Bob to keep her company in case he came back downstairs for whatever reason. She knew he’d keep her safe. Or maybe even Sha—

“Really?” he drawled and the grin he gave her stretched his mouth, ruby eyes glinting with fiendish delight.

Oooh shit. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned that.

“I-I mean—th-the drivers, they—one of them could come in any minute and I won’t be alone and—”

Oh god, she was rambling and not making any sense and he was getting closer and Kagome felt the first tendrils of panic skitter across her skin like thousands of needles—

“Hey, asshole. The fuck you think you’re doing?”

While Kagome gasped and caught herself on the back table behind her as relief surged through her entire body, Naraku paused inches before her and looked over his shoulder to level a carefully neutral look at whoever interrupted them.

Standing behind the reception desk, a six foot wall of solid muscle donned in ripped jeans and a black ball cap, Kagome’s inadvertent savior only spared her a brief glance to assure she was alright before pinning her tormentor under the weight of his unwavering amber gaze. To his credit Naraku seemed unaffected and merely stared back, not moving away from her, but not getting any closer either.

When still the asshat didn’t move away from the clearly uncomfortable woman, dark brows snapped low over his eyes and a deep growl echoed in his throat. Fucker apparently had more balls than brains, but at least he had enough sense to not ignore his presence. A wise decision; if he hadn’t, Inuyasha would have been forced t use a much more physical means to intervene, and he was positive neither his dad nor Sesshomaru would appreciate that.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me,” he started, voice low, gaze narrowing just the slightest. “Or maybe you’re just stupid, but I asked you what the fuck you think you’re doing. This area is off limits to anyone but employees, asshole. Beat it.”

He gestured behind him with a jerk of his head, indicating the lobby where he should get the hell out of his sight, and fast.

Once more Naraku proved that he was below average intelligence when he again refused to move away from Kagome and instead merely half-turned and pegged the half-demon with a narrow-eyed stare.

“The lady and I,” he began, either not noticing or ignore as the lady in question subtly inched away from him, “are having a conversation. One you quite rudely interrupted, I might add.”

“Conversation’s over,” Inuyasha told him firmly and his tone brooked no room for argument. “Now I suggest you leave the lady alone, get the fuck outta my sight, and go do what you were specifically hired to do. And in case your sense of direction is as shitty as your hearing, that would be up the stairs, down the hall, and to your left. Door’s labeled ‘Employees Only.’ Can’t miss it.”

Naraku pegged him with a sinister glare that time and Inuyasha didn’t miss the way his hands clenched into tight fists. His gaze sharpened and he tensed, but didn’t move.

“Kagome was just about to show me herself,” the repair man claimed and swung twin pools of unnerving ruby red said woman’s way. Kagome froze in her gradual bid to escape and Naraku smiled. It was not a nice smile.

“Weren’t you, Kagome?”

Wide brown eyes cut to his and beneath his ballcap Inuyasha’s ears pinned against his head as another growl welled in his throat.

“Tough shit,” Inuyasha snapped and watched as the asshole visibly tensed before once more turning his head to level him with a murderous glare. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if she promised to give you a goddamn tour of France, dickhead. Kagome is busy, I have shit to do other than waste my time standing here talking to someone who clearly forgot his helmet at home and licks windows in his spare time, so do us both a favor, grab your shit, and go do your fucking job.”

Maybe it was the low, ominous growl that even Kagome could hear now, the sudden ring of the company phone that shattered the tense silence that followed, or perhaps it was Kagome driving to go answer it, but whatever it was evidently Naraku finally decided to heed the hanyou’s request. He pursed his lips, glowered balefully at the silver-haired figure for several charged seconds, then wordlessly picked up his tools and stomped by him toward the stairs.

Kagome hunt up the phone, looked over her shoulder, then gratefully sank down into her chair with a loud, relieved sigh. She pressed a hand over her heart and closed her eyes, taking a moment to breathe as she willed her tense muscles to relaxed. She heard him approach and when she opened her eyes again, her water bottle was being held before her by a clawed hand.

“I can’t thank you enough, Sha,” Kagome said and grabbed her drink with a grateful smile. “You have some pretty incredible timing.”

Leaning back against the printer and crossing his arms again, Inuyasha studied her quietly for a moment as she took several deep gulps of the cool liquid before replying.

“Bob asked me to check in on you,” he revealed and Kagome blinked in surprise. “Said he looked pretty sketchy and got a weird feeling about him when he asked where to go.” He cocked a brow. “Suppose he was right.”

Kagome sighed. “And how,” she muttered, setting her drink on her desk. God, if Sha hadn’t intervened when he did…

“Any idea how long it’s gonna take?” he asked and nodded his head toward the ceiling.

“No,” she answered, wrinkling her nose. “And I can’t leave until he’s gone.” She didn’t sound very happy about that and he couldn’t blame her.

Inuyasha frowned. “Are you staying late because of him?”

Kagome shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. You weren’t exactly lying earlier; I really am busy. I still have quotes to send, tags to make—oh! Those are yours, by the way,” she said and pointed to a colorful stack of papers – the aforementioned product tags – on the table. “Then I need to file invoices, finish some receiving, update pricing…the list goes on.”

Inuyasha whistled low, mentally wincing in sympathy. “Damn. Sounds like you’ll be just as busy as me. That idiot Houjo dropped an entire fucking skid of Horschel – an entire skid – from the forklift earlier and it’s giant goddamn mess.”

Kagome’s eyebrows rose and despite herself her lips twitched. “Was that what I heard a few hours ago? That huge crash?”

He grunted and Kagome took that as her answer.

“Oh, man,” she said and her smile was sympathetic. “I hope it wasn’t expedited.”

Inuyasha winced.

Kagome’s mouth dropped. “No.”

He groaned that time and Kagome had to bite her lip to stop from giggling. She really did feel bad; the Horschel brothers were not going to be happy when they hear their entire order had been destroyed.

“Oh…I am so sorry,” she said sincerely. “That’s just…damn.”

“Yeah,” he rumbled, dragging a hand down his face. “Looks like neither of us will be leaving any time before seven, I’d wager.”

“Well,” Kagome piped up, ever the optimist. “At least it’s Friday?”

Inuyasha’s ear flicked beneath his cap and the corner of his lips flickered with the beginnings of a grin.

“Good night for pizza and Netflix.”

“And breadsticks. And—oh! Chicken wings. Hot chicken wings.”

“You absolute mad woman.”

“I know.”

Inuyasha snickered while Kagome dissolved into giggles and as he watched her laughing, face flushed, dark eyes bright and raven hair piled up into a messy bun, the urge slammed into him so hard he didn’t even think to resist. And if he was being honest with himself, it was something he’d been wanting to do for quite some time, and well…no time like the present, right?

“Listen,” Inuyasha began and Kagome cocked her head, curious, but before he could continue, the phone on his belt chose that moment to ring and he released a muttered curse. Sighing, he rolled his eyes, gave Kagome an apologetic look, and when all she did was smile and wave a dismissive hand, he unhooked the annoying device and pressed the call button.

“The hell do you want, I’m busy.”

While Inuyasha talked on the phone with who was probably one of his drivers, Kagome’s smile lingered on her face as she watched him, unabashed taking the opportunity to really get a good look at him while he was distracted.

Good lord, but the man was…mmm. Donned in the light blue company uniform shirt paired with dark jeans and scuffed up shitkickers, Kagome would be lying if she said he didn’t look utterly delicious. Most likely in deference to the heat, he had the top half of the shirt’s buttons unfastened and the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat since it was much hotter out on the floor than in the office, and the white ribbed tank top be wore beneath his shirt clung to his chest very enticingly. His long hair was tied into a low ponytail and he had a five o’clock shadow that attractively darkened a strong jaw.

Inuyasha Taisho – or Sha, as most people called him – was the shipping manager and in charge of the drivers that worked for the company. The son of the CEO and half-brother to the president, he didn’t let his relation to the big bosses make him any different from the other employees. He didn’t receive any special treatment either, which was fine with him anyway. He was a hard worker, and though Kagome didn’t work with him much and saw him even less, she knew he was also a valued part of the company and made sure his drivers were on time with both deliveries and pick-ups.

He spent most of his time out on the floor if not in a truck himself, but when she did see him in the office, he always treated the office ladies with respect and was never rude or impatient if he came to them with an issue with the paperwork. Kagome genuinely liked him and had to admit she was a little disappointed she couldn’t work with him more often, but knew his presences was required out on the floor so she didn’t complain.

…Much.

Oh, who was she kidding? For a while now Kagome had been wanting to know far more about him and not just the surface knowledge a coworker was privileged to. She wanted to know his favorite food or if he was a coffee drinker. Was he an early bird or a night owl? Cats or dogs? McDonald’s or Burger King? She wanted to know his quirks, the little details, and okay fine, yes she was crushing. Big time.

But while Kagome was over her with moon eyes and a dopey smile, he hadn’t so much as spared her a second glance so she’d never approached him like she truly wanted.

“Keep your dick in your pants, I’ll be there in a minute,” Inuyasha drawled and promptly stopped the insistent whining in his ear by hanging up the phone. He grumbled and shook his head, clipping the device back on his belt. Christ, he leaves for ten goddamn minutes and the entire floor is having a fucking conniption because he’s not there.

“Do your people need you?” Kagome asked with a teasing smile.

Inuyasha snorted. “My people are idiots and can’t do a damn thing for themselves apparently.”

Shaking his head, he sighed, studied her thoughtfully for a moment, and decided he’d ask her later, after McCreepy Fuck was gone. She had work to do anyway and he didn’t want to distract her more than he already had.

“I’ll stick around,” he said and flicked a brief glance toward the ceiling in explanation. She beamed at him and his heart skipped a beat. Christ he was done for. “Anything happens, you call me. I’ll hear it. I promise.”

He could see it as she visibly relaxed and he was obvious it meant a great deal to her that he was willing to hang around so she wouldn’t have to be alone with him.

“Thank you, Sha,” she breathed, truly grateful. “It…means a lot to me. Really.”

Inuyasha nodded, expression softening. “No problem,” he murmured just as his phone rang again. Kagome giggled as he tipped his head back with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes heavenward.

He quirked a grin, tipped his hat at her – relishing in her quiet laugh – then grabbed the tags she’d already created before turning around to head back toward the floor, unclipping his phone and answering it with a barked, “What, Miroku? I told you I’d—no, dammit, don’t let him on the forklift again—!”

The door to the plant slammed shut and Kagome was once again left alone. Or as alone as she could be given the circumstances, but she decided not to dwell on that, standing up and getting back to work to distract herself. Let’s see, first she’d finish filing the invoices, then the receiving, and after that get those quotes sent she wasn’t able to send earlier…

It was perhaps two or so hours later that Kagome had just hit send on the last quote when she heard the AC unit kick on with a stuttered whirr, some clicking sounds, and then smooth out into its usual background buzzing noise.

“Finally,” she muttered and closed out of Gmail before shutting down her computer. She was honesty a little surprised that Naraku had actually stayed upstairs, but then again, he probably didn’t want to get on a certain half-demon’s bad side if he bothered her. Inuyasha had indeed popped in several times to give updates on the goings on of his drivers and to also just see how she was doing. She liked that he took her discomfort about the repair man seriously and loved that he seemed so protective of her. It gave her all the nice warm and fuzzies.

Warm and fuzzies that had abruptly traveled southward at an embarrassingly fast rate when Inuyasha, sans his uniform shirt, had at one point during a brief chat unconsciously grabbed the hem of his tank top and pulled it up to wipe the sweat from his face. Kagome had gotten a very nice view of his toned abdomen and the line of silver hair that disappeared into his jeans which in turn pointed out the enticing V of his hips. Kagome’s face had gone very red, and when she’d finally managed to life her gaze, she was met with the sight of a cocked brow and a knowing smirk.

Needless to say, she hadn’t been able to look at him again after that without turning five shades of red and she could still hear his little chuckle as he all but swaggered away.

Cocky bastard. Damned if she didn’t absolutely love it.

Standing from her chair and glancing at the clock on the wall that read 6:32 pm, Kagome sighed, stretched, and went about tidying up the workspace to be ready for Monday morning. The plant had gone quiet about forty-five minutes ago, signaling that most of the warehouse workers had gone home and it was just the drivers now unloading their trucks and putting away product in its required bay. She knew Inuyasha was still here, though Bob was gone, having left about half an hour ago.

Kagome wiped clean the day’s notes and messages from the dry erase board on the back wall and tided up the table, humming under her breath as she placed pens and markers in their appropriate place. She shut down Shiori’s computer because she forgot to again, turned around—

And screamed.

Naraku raised his brows as scarlet eyes glinted in amusement.

“My apologies,” he murmured, a smirk curling his lips. “I did not mean to startle you, Kagome.”

Hand pressed against her rapidly beating heart, Kagome recovered quickly and put more distance between them with a few steps backward. Jeez, he was quiet; she hadn’t even heard him come down the stairs! She also highly doubted he hadn’t meant to startle her because if that were true, why hadn’t he said anything and just stood there like a creeper?

“It’s, uh, fine.” It wasn’t. “All finished?” As discreetly as she could she inched toward her desk. It wasn’t much, but if she could just get to the pepper spray in her purse…

“It’s running,” he murmured, his eyes half-lidded as he blatantly stared at her chest. “Replaced some wires. Took longer than expected…”

He trailed off and Kagome frowned, deliberately crossing her arms over her chest, her back to her desk now. His gaze flashed back to hers and he adopted a look of nonchalance as if she hadn’t just caught him ogling her and Kagome had to bite back a snort. God, this guy was all kinds of sleaze and she couldn’t wait to get rid of him.

“Good,” she said with a nod. “You can put the invoice on the reception desk on your way out. Thank you for your service. Have a good weekend.”

An obvious dismissal delivered in a clipped, firm tone that suggested he’d do well to heed it.

Imagine her surprise when he didn’t and instead reached out too fast for her to react and snatched her wrist.

“I think I’d rather stay a while,” Naraku purred and his smile dripped with ill-intent.

Kagome gasped and yanked at her hand, her neutral expression falling to be replaced by an outraged scowl.

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, gritting her teeth as she struggled to escape his grip, but he was surprisingly strong, tightening his fingers around her wrist to the point of pain. Kagome winced at clawed at his hand with the nails of her free hand, digging into his skin, but he barely noticed, his smile broadening as a chuckle escaped his lips.

“My dear,” he chuckled, tugging her closer and ignoring her attempts to free herself. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. I know you didn’t want that half-breed to interrupt us earlier.”

Kagome gaped at him. He couldn’t be serious.

“Don’t be shy, now,” he purred and oh good god, he was serious. “It’s only you and I here, after all. Your eyes were begging me to touch you, to bring you the pleasure that no vile half-breed could ever—”

Before he could finish his disgusting monologue that was making Kagome want to hurl in his face – or punch him in his face, which ever came first – Naraku was suddenly yanked away from her and the grip around her wrist vanished. Kagome stumbled backward, rubbing the abused flesh and watching with great satisfaction as the creep was bodily slammed face-first against the filing cabinets.

Roughly cranking the fucker’s arm behind his back and shoving his weight against it to put strain on the shoulder, Inuyasha reveled in the hiss of pain that reached his ears as Naraku struggled against his hold. He only tightened his grip, claws digging into his arm, and when Naraku tried to headbutt him by throwing his head back, Inuyasha retaliated by slamming his face into the cold metal of the cabinets in front of him.

“Alright, you demented fuck, listen up,” Inuyasha growled in the bastard’s ear, unwilling to let him get away with the stunt he’d just pulled. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re on that makes you think it’s okay to touch her, but my fist is begging to make nice with your face, so unless you wanna be nothing but a bloody fucking smear on the wall, you have three seconds to get the fuck outta my sight after I let you go. We clear?”

Naraku grumbled something and Inuyasha pulled on his arm. The fucker paled, gasped, and then nodded, and satisfied Inuyasha gave him one last shove against the cabinets before releasing him and stepping back. He purposely placed himself in front of Kagome and crossed his arms, fierce scowl on his face and fangs bared as a steady growl echoed in his throat.

To his credit, though he looked mightily pissed, Naraku didn’t even spare the two of them a glance as he grabbed his toolbox and hightailed it out of there. Seconds later the door slammed closed and Kagome was able to breathe easily again.

“Ugh,” Kagome muttered and leaned back against her desk, her knees feeling weak. “If I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.”

Inuyasha only relaxed fully when he heard the sound of a motor starting up and then fading away as the asshole left the premises and he turned to face her, eyes immediately zeroing in on the reddened skin of her wrist. He frowned and gestured toward it with a nod of his head.

“You alright?” he asked, wanting to take her delicate wrist and massage away the soreness while at the same time removing the fucker’s stench from her skin. God, he hated that he touched her.

Kagome smiled at him and he was happy to note that it was genuine, her eyes soft as she regarded him fondly and with something else that made his heart rate kick up a notch. Did she…?

“I’m fine,” she answered, rubbing the skin for a moment before bracing both of her hands on the desk, fingers curling around the edge. “Thank you, Sha. Once again you proved to have some pretty impeccable timing. Any later and you probably would have witnessed me decking him in his stupid face.”

He snorted. “What I wouldn’t give to see that,” Inuyasha remarked and moved so he was leaning against Sango’s desk, arms and ankles crossed as he faced her. “You’re welcome, but this time I actually had an ulterior motive for showing up. I wanted to ask you before, but it didn’t feel like the right time.”

Kagome’s eyes lit up and her smile was hopeful. “Oh? Ask me what?”

Inuyasha studied her for a moment, golden eyes heavy-lidded and intense as they searched her face. Kagome held her breath, biting down on her bottom lip as her heart raced in her chest, butterflies rioting in her belly.

“Sha?” she breathed when still all he did was stare at her.

Something in his expression shifted as his gaze locked with hers and Kagome felt goosebumps ignite on her skin that had nothing to do with the significantly cooler air in the office courtesy of the now working AC.

“Call me Inuyasha,” he rumbled as he pushed away from the desk and closed the scant distance between them. Kagome didn’t move, didn’t stop him as he grabbed her hips and lifted her into the desk, nudging himself between her thighs as hands first slid along the solid muscles of his arms before slipping her own around his neck.

Kagome sighed and closed her eyes as he blazed a trail of soft kisses along her neck.

“Inuyasha,” she murmured and was rewarded by a gentle nip to her ear. “What did you…”

“Do I really need to ask?” he whispered in her ear and kissed along the line of her jaw.

“Mmm.” Kagome turned her head, nuzzled his temple, and breathed, “So, Netflix and chill?”

Inuyasha laughed, Kagome giggled, but then the sound was promptly silenced by his mouth as he kissed her with a slow but passionate thoroughness that left Kagome whimpering and pressing herself against him. She eagerly returned his kiss and she felt his pleased growl in some very nice places. Her blood heated, her stomach fluttered as arousal sparked a flame deep in the pit of her belly, and when his hand dropped to nudge her forward into the cradle of his hips, she gasped at the feel of him, thick and ready for a long night of hard—

“Fuck,” Inuyasha cursed against her mouth and he felt her lips curl into an impish smile. Despite himself he chuckled and nipped her lip before soothing the brief sting with a swipe of his tongue.

“My place?” he groaned and closed his eyes, tilting his head and letting his little vixen lavish his neck with nips and kisses of her own as her hands slid beneath his shirt to run her fingers over his stomach. He shuddered and moved his hand to grab her thigh, shoving her skirt up to feel the soft flesh beneath his palm.

“On one condition,” Kagome purred and curled her hand around his neck to tug him back down for another hot kiss. He indulged her with a heated growl, slicking his tongue along hers, fangs nipping soft flesh, relishing in her sweet taste.

“Name it,” he growled, willing to give her anything she wanted as long as she kept kissing him like that because fuck.

“Pizza and wings afterwards. You’re buying.”

Inuyasha laughed. God, he was already half-way in fucking love with this wonderful woman.

“Deal,” he rumbled and with a wicked grin, he stole her mouth in another kiss that Kagome happily returned, hands diving into his hair while he pushed her back and then she let him do some very unprofessional things to her on the surface of her desk.

Hardly Working

#working hard #inukag #inuyasha #kagome #oneshot #keizfanfiction #fanfiction

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tanyawritesstories · 4 years

Text

Sons of Kamino | An OC story

I wrote this little piece about my OC Clone Battalion and their General just for fun and thought I'd publish it. I'm extremely nervous about posting OC stuff because I don't think it's that good, so please be nice 🥺 I hope y'all like it, if not, I finished writing a sequel to Frozen Miracles that I should have published soon 😊

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: none just post-Order 66 angst

•••

It was silent. He had never been in a ship that was pure silence. All that could be heard was the whirring of the thrusters and occasional footsteps as one of his brothers got up to walk around. He looked up from the floor for the first time in half an hour, glancing around he saw only pain and anguish. So many of his brothers lay on the floor of the ship in pain. Not all of their pain was physical, in fact most of it was mental. They had all just gone through the biggest betrayal they would ever see in their lives.

The entire army, every single one of their brothers, the Republic they fought for, their own bodies, had betrayed them. They were all still struggling to comprehend it, some doing better than others. He had known about it before it happened, but it was still horrifying to see a brother of his raise his weapon against him. They hadn’t killed anyone, not a single soldier of this battalion had died and for that he was proud, relieved.

Their battalion was one of the best out there. He remembered all the adventures and missions he had gone on, remembered how happy civilians were to see the droids gone and the clone soldiers in their place. The 607th Elite Stealth Battalion. He huffed in amusement. To think that name would never be heard again was haunting. He was brought out of his reminiscing by a tap on his pauldron, he looked up to see their medic looking back at him.

“Are you alright, Commander?” He asked. Concern could be seen in his brown eyes that were a shade lighter than the rest of his brothers. “I’m fine, Chance. Just tired,” he answered, before chuckling, “The war is over, I’m not technically your Commander anymore.” Chance sighed as he looked over his brother. He’d never seen his Commander look so broken and vulnerable before. “I’ll get you a stim, sir,” Chance said, turning around. “No,” he stopped him, “I don’t need one. Save them for everyone else.” The medic sighed again but left to check on the others.

He didn’t feel like their Commander right now, he felt like a failure. The battalion was small, only about 100 men and every single one was on the mend. The chips had been removed and destroyed along with all their comm devices, no one could contact them, the General had made sure of that. They were ghosts right now and that was exactly what they needed to be safe.

He forced himself to look up and take in the sight of his men. He knew every one of their names, it didn’t matter if they were shinies or the first few men in the battalion that had managed to survive the entire war. His eyes landed on his two ARC troopers, Trigger and Ace. They were tough men and amazing soldiers, batch mates and two of the closest troopers he’d ever seen. The two war hardened men sat next to each other hugging, both looked tired and lost. Trigger was the more talkative of the two, loud and boisterous, almost always seen with a smirk on his face and his beloved DC-15LE slung over his back. He was probably one of the best snipers in the GAR with that thing. Ace was more quiet and observative, he preferred to listen and watch. When he did talk, not a single pointless word came out of his mouth. He was just starting to open up a little, finally coming to terms with his sexuality and the fact that he preferred men over women when everything collapsed again.

The medic, Chance, was doing his best to stay strong for his brothers, and for himself. He had confessed a dangerous secret to his Commander two deployments ago. He was surprised to learn that his Commander stood for it as long as it stayed a secret. Chance had a family in progress, he had met a woman on Coruscant almost a year ago and fallen in love with her. He had learned not too long ago that their attempts to have a child were a success, he had a wife and unborn baby he wanted to spend the rest of his days with.

The Commander’s eyes panned over to one of their newest troops. Hotstuff was normally always joking, laughing or flirting with someone. Also, usually a pain in the Commander's ass. Now he sat on the cold floor, head in his hands, stone faced and silent. A few feet away, Arrow sat watching everyone around him, helping where he needed to. He appeared to be the one taking this the best, Arrow was used to trauma. He used to be in the 327th until he was discovered one night by the General of the 607th, tied to a wall, bloody and bruised having just been sexually assaulted. The General had saved his life, killed his abusers, and had him transferred to the 607th after spending a month of recovery in the General’s private apartment in the upper levels of Coruscant.

The Commander sighed again, his head lowering back to the floor of the ship. They’d stolen the ship from the Separatists and were now headed Maker knows where, as far away from the core worlds as possible. He reached up and ran his hand over the shaved sides of his head where he knew the wing tattoos lay on his skin. He had been thinking of growing his hair out in those spots, this would be a perfect time. He wanted to forget who he was.

“Commander Finch!”

He closed his eyes and stood up, looking to see who called him. It was Track, their explosives expert, another usually fun and energetic man who was now drained of energy and enthusiasm.

“What is it, Track?” He asked the man currently jogging towards him. “General Akana wants to speak to you,” Track informed. Finch looked towards the cockpit doors, the General had been locked in there for the past hour, only checking in on them over the ship speakers. He sighed, “thank you, Track.”

Finch made his way to the cockpit door and knocked. “It’s me,” he said softly. He didn’t need to speak loud or specify who he was, his General knew it was him. He heard the door unlock and it slid open, he entered and made sure it closed behind him. He saw the outline of the General against the bright lights of hyperspace. Finch noticed that the autopilot light was on.

“How are they?”

He sighed and walked to stand behind the pilots chair. “How are you?” He asked. “You haven’t come out of here in almost two hours.”

“I’m fine, how are the men? Do they need my help?”

Finch walked closer and swiveled the chair around to face him. The blue lights of stars blurring by cast light on the General’s face. Even in this state, Finch thought she looked beautiful. “The men will be fine. How are you feeling?” Finch knew it was a stupid question, given what she had felt through the Force and the reaction she had when the Order struck.

“I’ll be fine, I knew it was coming,” she said briefly. “Just because you knew it was coming doesn’t make it hurt less,” Finch told her. “I’ll be fine, Finch, trust me. I’ll get through it,” she tried to assure him with a fake smile. She swiveled the chair back to face the controls and aimlessly pressed a few buttons.

“I’ve been your Commander long enough to know when you’re lying,” he said. “Is there anything I can do?” She looked up at him with a sad smile on her face. “No, Finch, you’ve already done more than enough.” He sighed and watched her stare out the viewport, the minimal light letting him see the dried tear stains on her face. “You felt it all, didn’t you? Through the Force,” he questioned. She closed her eyes and he knew he had asked a bad question. When she opened them again he saw the light reflecting off her once again glassy blue eyes, filled with tears.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, turning around to leave. "Wait," she turned around and stood, grabbing his arm to keep him from going. "I'm sorry, I should have told you what was happening when I collapsed," she said, letting go of his arm and blinking back tears.

"It's just...I could almost see that red lightsaber as it cut through his stomach," she was barely able to finish her sentence before breaking down in tears, covering her face with her hands. Her knees gave up and Finch caught her, lowering her slowly to the ground beside him. He just held her in his arms whispering comforting words to her and rubbing her back. She was young and had lost so much, first her parents, then her adoptive mother, then her best friend, and her lover, she was broken.

He knew she’d lost people to the Order by the names she had called out. Kit. Anakin. Cody. Plo. Rex. Jesse. Aayla. Ahsoka. Those were just a few.

Finch held his General until she stopped crying and got up to return to her seat. “Tell the men we’re stopping at Florrum to pick up a few things, then we’ll be heading to Coruscant to rescue Chance’s wife and Zip’s girlfriend,” she informed, her steel stern walls already back in place. “Yes, sir,” he said.

She had promised her men everything, a new life wherever they wanted doing whatever they wanted. Chance was planning to live on a desolate planet and raise a family where the Empire couldn’t reach him. Trigger wanted to become a bounty hunter once everything settled down, most likely Ace would go with him. Zip wanted to marry his girlfriend and become a writer. Neil wanted to try and start a school with Flanker and Nash as teachers. Arrow wanted to start a shelter for victims of sexual abuse. They all had wants and goals, only they looked attainable now that they were free. Finch wanted something too but he was almost certain his wish was unattainable.

He was sure he wasn’t the first clone Commander to fall in love with their General.

He looked down at his hands, the armor covering the back of them engraved with the Republic symbol. This was not his symbol anymore. He was free, not property, he could do what he wanted. He may have been born in a test tube, a clone with millions of look-alikes, but he would always be a soldier. Only now he didn't have a leash.

#star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #my oc story

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arotechno · 4 years

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The Heartless: Chapter 5

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Chapter V: in which the proverbial dam breaks

We stayed with Esther for three days. We’d spend the daylight hours working in the field, and in the evenings we’d sit outside and listen to Esther’s stories while the sun sank into the far-off horizon and gave way to the cool summer night. Sometimes, she’d help us in the garden or sit by the back door with the baby; other times she’d spend most of the afternoon in the house, and we’d see her carrying out crates of old-looking memorabilia, like our hard work had inspired her to finally clear out the detritus of an old life that she didn’t lead anymore.

Over those three days, we razed the overgrown garden rows, trimmed back the bushes, and cleared the creeping vines from the side of the house with the old rusted garden tools from the dusty, cobweb-laden wooden bin by the back door. There were several moments where I considered disappearing overnight, dragging an unwilling Petra back home with me before something could go horribly wrong. But every time, the thought of sleeping another night in the treetops and the mental image of Esther waking up one morning to find us gone convinced me to stay, at least until the work was done.

On the morning of the fourth day, Petra and I gathered up our measly belongings from the stable and bid our goodbyes to Esther and the baby, standing between the freshly shorn raspberry bushes with the whole truth sinking into the sun-baked earth unspoken. I began a thousand sentences in my head without finishing any of them, but thankfully, Petra picked up the slack.

“Thank you so much, ma’am, for everything,” she said with a polite nod.

Esther returned her thanks with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, dear. It was nice to have some helping hands around for a few days.”

Petra went in for a quick hug, and if I’d had a heart, I believe it would have leapt into my throat and stayed there, permanently, until I choked on it and died. Instead, I found myself suddenly frozen to the ground where I stood, a thousand panicked thoughts buzzing under my skin until I saw Esther reach her free arm towards me and took a practiced step backward, a trillion possible endings to a million possible nightmares playing out in my head in that one instant.

“Thank you,” I choked out, startling Esther out of the bewildered expression that had crept onto her kind face. “Sincerely, I’ll never be able to thank you enough. More than you will ever know.” I gave her a polite nod to match Petra’s and turned to go, but when we were halfway to the road, she stopped me.

“Ace!” Esther called after me.

I turned around to see her look of confusion soften into something bordering on sorrow.

“I don’t know what it is, and I don’t expect you to tell me,” she began, “but whatever it is, no matter how bad you think it is, it doesn’t matter. You’re always welcome here, if you ever decide to come back. That’s a promise.”

“Please don’t make a promise I can’t expect you to keep, ma’am,” I answered honestly, and then I turned to go, Petra marching solemnly alongside me with her hands clutching the straps of her now full bag.

“You’re good kids, both of you!” Esther shouted, her voice carrying her desperation through the raspberry field down to the road’s edge. “I really mean that!”

I said nothing in return, and looked back only once, to see the baby reaching that chubby hand out toward me from afar. As the tiny house and Esther’s slowly shrinking form began to disappear at our backs, I thought quietly about the argument Petra and I’d had amongst the too-tall weeds that first day, and was left wondering which of us was right.

* * *

Bertrand greeted me with cold indifference when we finally arrived back in the Village of the Heartless. The house was stuffy; it felt more oppressively stark and empty than I remembered, as if I’d been gone for months instead of less than a week. It didn’t seem like Bertrand had eaten much, unless he’d managed to get more food in my absence—the more likely scenario was that he’d been brewing away at failed cure after cure in his study the entire time I had been away. It wasn’t as though he did much else when I was home, for that matter.

The sweltering summer dragged on, slow and sticky like pulled taffy. The weeks passed in much the same way as the ones that came before; Bertrand and I rarely spoke, and I spent long afternoons in the shade of the forest grove having target practice with Petra. She and I had taken to doing odd jobs for the neighbors in exchange for food or supplies, scrubbing kitchen floors on our hands and knees or picking fresh vegetables for the summer harvest until the sun had dappled new freckles across our noses and the tops of our shoulders. Whenever I couldn’t sleep at night (which was often), I’d climb to the top of the oak tree by the village gates with my bow and arrow and wait for someone to show up. No one ever did, aside from Petra—though her escapades were admittedly few now that our days were occupied by work.

Eventually, the days began to grow shorter and the summer heat faded into the crisp early autumn. The leaves on the big oak tree lost their green hue and the air grew drier day by day as the year commenced its twilight march to the cold, dark winter. The mounting tension in our tiny house came to a head on one cool autumn night, when my tired bones finally gave in to the deceitful throes of sleep.

* * *

My parents were very good at hiding the fact that I had no heart in my chest, and they had to be—harboring a Heartless child was against royal decree and would likely get them imprisoned, or worse. The people of Swallow’s Point didn’t suspect a thing, and I was content to keep it that way. I saw no reason to ever be discovered; I was living an ordinary childhood simply by pretending to be ordinary, and it was working.

It was just a beautiful, average day; the neighborhood children were out playing in the grass. In an act of heroics, Basil climbed atop a tree stump, wielding a stick like a pretend sword. We were playing knights, like we always did.

“I’m going to be king!” Basil declared gleefully to our group like a ruler addressing his people.

I turned up my nose and protested, “Basil, we’re all supposed to be knights! That’s the point of the game!”

Basil frowned, fists landing on his scrawny hips. “No, stupid, I mean in real life! I’m going to be king someday!”

"Sure you are,” retorted a kid who reminded me of Knife Boy. “You have to be related to the king to do that.”

Basil shrugged. “Maybe I am.”

“I don’t think so. You’re too weird to be related to King Brutus,” Marcus taunted.

“Don’t speak that way to your future king!” Basil joked, hopping down gracefully from his stump. He landed with a soft thud, worn-out shoes kicking up a cloud of dirt. The dust coated his face and clothes as he and the other boy began play-wrestling in the dirt road where we lived, laughing all the while, and warning bells resounded in my head. I could sense the impending danger from a mile away; it was an instinct I had been honing even throughout the most carefree years of my life, in case I ever needed it.

"Basil,” I muttered, hoping he would hear me and no one else, “maybe you shouldn’t—”

I stopped short, choking on my own breath as the group went dead silent. Marcus had gone to push Basil away and in doing so had placed a hand to Basil’s empty chest. He froze that way, eyes wide, and Basil paled considerably, realizing the gravity of what was happening. The moment cemented itself in my mind’s eye as tension soaked into the air, heavy and still.

“Why were you tricking us this whole time?” Marcus grumbled in a voice too low and too angry to ever come from a child. “You’re cursed! You could doom our whole village!”

“I just wanted friends,” was Basil’s whispered reply, so quiet I almost didn’t hear him. I saw him take a deep breath, chest rising, and then he spoke again, this time louder, bolder, “It shouldn’t matter! We were all friends until just now when you decided something was wrong with me! But that doesn’t change what I’ve always been!”

The entire group of children, save for myself, turned on him in an instant.

I backed further and further away from the scene but couldn’t look away, and in my mind’s eye their pretend-sword sticks became distorted until they resembled Knife Boy’s grimy dagger. I reasoned with myself, assuring myself that he was spry enough, light enough on his feet to escape. But poor, ten-year-old, Heartless Basil who had just declared himself king stared me dead in the eyes with a look that told me to run. So I did. He was foolish to let his guard down, I told myself. It was his own fault for becoming complacent. I almost convinced myself it was true.

“Ace! Ace, wake up!”

I jolted awake, the residual terror warping the shadows cast by the lantern light into something macabre. It took a moment to will my body to move; my limbs had been reduced to lead, like if I played dead whatever demons haunted my sleep could not hurt me.

“Fuck,” I finally choked out, the hoarseness in my voice making me realize I had been screaming. I hadn’t woken up screaming from a nightmare in years, and it was at that point that I at last noticed Bertrand hovering beside my cot, the soft light from the lantern illuminating his stony features. There was something genuine in his expression—I realized belatedly that it was concern, and for some reason, it made me uncomfortable. Bertrand did not admonish me for my language, but instead stared at me patiently, expectantly, and somehow that made it worse.

"Sorry," I rasped. "For waking you."

Bertrand shook his head. “I was not asleep,” was all he said.

It occurred to me that Bertrand was the only living soul to whom I had ever told the details about Basil’s disappearance and the day I left Swallow’s Point. I had spilled to him one night as a child, the first time I woke him in the middle of the night with my screaming. He hadn’t said much, but he’d made me a cup of hot tea and let me lay my ten-year-old soul bare to him despite the ungodly hour. It had helped at the time, but it didn’t feel like an option now. I tried to steady my breathing, but I couldn’t, not with him looking at me so earnestly like that; it was as though my blood itself were vibrating just under my skin.

“I need to take a walk,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the cot and reaching for my shoes. I met Bertrand’s gaze, daring him to challenge me, but though he said nothing, his expression softened into a sort of resigned understanding.

“Are you sure you’re in any condition to do that?” he finally asked as I was putting on my cloak with trembling limbs.

“No,” I responded shakily, walking out the door unarmed.

Once I was outside, the fresh air immediately took some of the edge off, and I walked a short ways before my legs gave out like a newborn deer’s and I flopped backward onto the grass. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, in and out several times until my breathing began to steady into something approaching normal.

This couldn’t go on any longer. I needed answers, some form of closure, someone to tell me straight to my face to get lost or die for all they cared, something more tangibly final than the memories that haunted me.

That night, I made a rash decision: I had to return home to see my parents.

When I eventually struggled to my feet and headed back inside, Bertrand was nowhere to be seen, but there was a mug of freshly brewed tea waiting on the table, the kettle still steaming on the stove as the crackling fire slowly burned out.

#the heartless #aro #aromantic #aro writing #aro writers #aspec writing #aspec writers #writeblr #op

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watchmegetobsessed · 5 years

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Summer fling - Shawn Mendes

masterlist

The cold shower felt like heaven for your heated skin. Even though the AC is on it’s still pretty hot in LA, something you haven’t really gotten used to just yet. You put your sundress back on and fix your bun before heading out of the bedroom. Shawn is on the phone, walking back and forth in front of the balcony’s door. You give him a smile and he returns it as he replies to the person on the other end.

You grab all your stuff you left around the suit while he finishes the call, you collect your sunglasses, car keys and phone and show everything into your bag.

“Sorry, just business stuff,” he apologizes once he is over with the call. He is wearing only his Calvin Klein boxers and his usual charming smile, nothing else and this is the kind of view you’ve been enjoying for the past month.

You met him in a club one night when you were out with your friends, he kind of immediately cajoled you and you ended up spending the night with him. Not something you usually do, but with him it just felt right. The rest is history, you’ve been seeing each other for weeks now, mostly hanging out at his place, but it’s fine with you. You know it’s more complicated with him so you never really questioned why you never go out in public, though it has been bugging you for a while now. You decided to give it some more time.

“It’s okay,” you smile at him throwing your bag up to your shoulder.

“Text me when you get home,” he tells you putting an arm around your waist and kissing you shortly.

“I will.”

“And are you free on Saturday?” he proposes and you nod happily. “Great. I’ll think of something for us, okay?”

“Perfect,” you grin, leaning in for another quick kiss before leaving.

Texting back and forth has been something you were used to. He always made sure to check in on you every once in a while and that’s one of the reasons why you were falling for him. It would be rushed to say that you loved him, but you definitely had a strong liking towards him.

By the end of the day your plans for Saturday evening are fixed. Dinner and then a couple of drinks somewhere, which sounds perfect and you couldn’t help but notice that you are finally going somewhere public. You are thrilled about the date, barely can focus at work, but somehow Saturday finally arrives and you start getting ready pretty early, not able to hold yourself back any longer. A long shower, some shaving and hair curling later you hear your phone buzzing on the bed and your heart starts beating faster when you see that Shawn is calling you.

“Hey! You called just in time, I’m deciding on what to wear. Any suggestions?” you delightfully ask, but his voice soon makes your smile disappear.

“Um, Y/N I’m sorry but we have to postpone.”

“Oh,” you stop in the middle of the room, feeling more disappointed than you should be, but you were really looking forward to tonight.

“Something came up, but I’ll make it up, I promise.”

You want to ask so bad what it is, but truth is, you are not an official couple so you don’t want to be too nosy. If he doesn’t want to share it you have to respect his decision.

“Okay,” you faintly answer.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to you later, take care.”

“You too,” you mumble before ending the call.

His phone call throws you into despond, and your awesome evening quickly turns into self-mourning on the couch while eating ice-cream. You let yourself commiserate about the crashed plans before pulling yourself together and deciding it’s not the end of the world. Before going to bed you check Instagram only to throw you off the edge once again.

On your explore page you see photos of Shawn at a bar with friends, having the time of his life. There are several pictures of him, being all smiley and happy with a cocktail in his hands and you just feel the rage building up inside you. You might not be a couple, but canceling plans for a night out with his friends seems rude. It’s not like you came up with the idea, he asked if you are free and made the plans just to then ditch you and go out with his friends instead.

For a long time you feel the urge to text him how disappointed you are at him but you talk yourself down realizing this could happen because it’s not defined what you really are. And then it hits you.

Maybe Shawn never really wanted more, you are just a summer fling for him and it’s time for him to move on, and tonight was the first move.

You barely sleep that night, thinking about everything that has happened and how stupid you felt for not realizing what it was. You wake up feeling like shit and nothing changes when Shawn texts you asking what you are doing later that day. The urge to tell him off is tempting, but you decide to do this in a more civilized way so you agree to a meeting, but you refuse to go to his hotel this time so he is coming to your place.

You go through what you want to tell him a million times, feeling more and more nervous with each passing minute until you get a text from him that he’ll be there in five. To refresh yourself you splash some cold water to your face, boosting yourself up in the mirror. When the doorbell rings and opening it you find a smiley Shawn there for a moment you almost forget what you wanted to tell him.

“Hey!” he greets you leaning down for a kiss, but you turn your head so his lips end up on your cheek and he immediately realizes something is off.

“Come in,” you tell him and he nods as he presses his lips together into a thin line.

He doesn’t sit down, just stops in the middle of the living room and turns to you, obviously running his mind on what could be possibly wrong.

“Are you mad about yesterday?” he unsurely asks and you just let out a sigh.

“Shawn, let’s talk,” you say urging him to take a seat. Once you both seated on the couch you try to remember what you were planning on saying, but none of those felt right anymore.

“Look, I’m so sorry about it, Y/N,” he starts. “It was a douche move, but something really just came up and-“

“Am I just a summer fling to you, Shawn?” you suddenly ask cutting him off and the surprise on his face throws you off a bit, but you continue anyway. “I know we haven’t really talked about what it really is, but if I’m just someone you mess around with in the summer it’s better if we end it right here and now.”

You feel relieved and nervous at the same time. It feels nice to finally say it out loud and set the record straight, but you are afraid of what his answer is going to be. It would be so embarrassing if he said you are nothing more than just a fling when you were already falling for him.

“Y/N, you are not just a fling. I-I’m… I’m very serious about you.” He scoots closer, but you need some space between you and him to think straight, so you move back a little too.

“Then why couldn’t I tag along yesterday when you went drinking with your friends?” you confront him and though you feel bad for being too nosy, you have to clear things out.

“So you saw some pictures,” he states and you nod matter-of-factly. “I can explain it, I swear.”

“Do you know how stupid I felt when I found out you went out after canceling on me? And do you know what message it sent to me? That you want me nowhere near other parts of your life. It’s fine if you don’t think of me more than a fling, but please tell me so I can figure out how to move on.”

“You’re not a fling!” he anxiously snaps, despair all over his face. “I wanted you to meet my friends, that was the plan. But then they told me getting drunk together is probably not the best setting to a first meeting and I agreed. They are all so excited to meet you,” he sighs for your biggest surprise.

“Your friends… know about me?” you quietly ask, not really knowing where to put this in your head.

“Of course!” he responds with a tired smile. “In fact, I’ve been told that I talk too much about you.”

“What?” you ask totally confused by the turn this conversation just took.

“I’m so sorry, I fucked up royally if you thought I was hiding you or something. I’ve just been so nervous about bringing you and other parts of my life together because I was afraid you wouldn’t like it and leave.”

“So this is why we’ve been only seeing each other at your or my place strictly?”

“Mostly,” he nods. “I didn’t want to shock you with everything that’s going on so I thought keeping us in this bubble would work, but obviously we can’t barricade ourselves and I want to introduce you to my friends.”

He scoots closer and this time you don’t back from him, you let him wrap an arm around you as he pulls you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. It’s my fault, I should have been more open with you. But let’s clear things out now, okay?” You nod with a faint smile. “Do you want to be official? Like boyfriend-girlfriend official,” he adorably asks making you giggle.

“Sure. But only if you promise to talk to me. I don’t want to find out anything through paparazzi pictures.”

“I promise,” he exhales leaning in and finally kissing you.

#shawn mendes #shawn #mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfictions #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes x reader #mendes army

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kessielrg · 4 years

Text

[Daybreak Academy][KH AU] Hospital Beds

Summary: In which Skuld fades in and out of consciousness in the aftermath of her overdose (chapter 37 of Daybreak Academy). [oneshot][spoilers for @daybreak-academy-fanfic, obviously]

Rating: K+

Word count: 2,220 words

Skuld had only passed out on one other occasion in her life. It was the 2011 Departure County Regional Lux Pageant: Junior Division. It was the last major competition before going to state, so -of course- it was a very big deal. The whole situation could have been avoided if she, or her parents, had been paying enough attention that day. Ultimately, it was ruled that Skuld had been dehydrated and the incident was never brought up again.

But that was when something in Skuld changed. Her parents all but glossing it over and working on the next pageant nearly made her pop a blood vessel. After that incident, Skuld refused to attend any more pageants so long as she had a body to live in. No more lights, no more angry moms when their kid didn't win a crown, no more stage cues from hosts that didn't even pretend to care; none of it. Skuld was done.

When she received her letter of acceptance from Daybreak Academy, Skuld gave her parents an ultimatum: if she went to Daybreak, then she wouldn't attend any more pageants. It had to be one or the other. Of course her parents let her go to Daybreak- having a prestigious school listed as your alma mater looked far better on a resume than how many useless gold crowns you've won. For that, she was thankful her parents had some sort of common sense.

They say, when your brain realizes that it's about to die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. When Skuld could feel her whole body shut down on her, the rest of her life up until then didn't even matter. Back then (and right now) her only thought was 'what if no one finds me?' That thought was infinitely more terrifying when she was in her own private dorm and not about to be shuffled on stage in front of a crowded audience.

Skuld had no idea how long she had been out. Her mind took what seemed to be years before realizing that she was in a hospital room. A slow glance toward the window indicated that it was sometime during the day. Wasn't it after sunset when she passed out? The memories were fuzzy at best, and a good part of it still seemed fragmented as she tried to piece together what had actually happened.

But thinking took up too much brain power that she didn't quite have back yet. What with the 'hard reboot' and all of waking up without intentionally making your body shut down. She didn't even bother to know if her parents were even aware she was in the hospital right now. She had listed Headmaster Ava as her emergency contact for so long, she had memorized that number far better than her own parents'. Skuld let out a soft sigh as she let her body succumb back into a black abyss of nothing. Maybe she'll feel a bit better later on.

Hopefully.

. . .

“I should have known the moment she came to callbacks alone.”

Skuld knew the voice but couldn't bring herself to open her eyes to be sure. It took a lot more effort than she had to even give the slightest of peeks. Her glimpse was short, but it confirmed her suspicions. In the hospital room with her was Ms. April. With Ms. April was Headmaster Aced, awkwardly trying to navigate the hospital room with a small vase of get well soon flowers in his hands.

“You never would have guessed too.” Aced calmly noted, setting the vase of flowers on the bedside table. “Everything was kept on track, she dropped off notes about what needed attention then she'd send another note saying she found a solution...”

“That's not the point, Aced.” Ms. April snapped. “She's still child. There was no reason for her to have such a heavy workload without any of us noticing. I should have noticed. Ava- Ava should have noticed!”

“Ava?” Aced repeated. A quick look of confusion crossing his features. “What does Ava have to do with this? Gula is the Leopardus headmaster.”

“That stupid student council she started!” April declared. “Don't tell me you're not aware of it!”

“Of course I was aware, all of us knew...”

“And did any of you know that the five students she cherry-picked had trouble adjusting?” the short teacher snapped back. “Skuld wasn't the only one. And the fact that you don't even know that-!”

“It's not like any of them were from my house.” Aced argued. “I'm not the one who would have noticed even if I could!”

A dark silence immediately filled the room the moment he said those words. Ms. April was fuming.

“April...” the youngest of the two tried to say in a timid voice. “I...”

But Ms. April wasn't going to listen to him. Instead, she turned on her heel and immediately headed toward the door. Fear was quick to reach Aced's features as he went after her.

“April!” he even feebly tried to call. “April I didn't mean…! April!”

Skuld could hear the door shut when they both left. The tense air still lingered in the room, and it made her feel incredibly awful in its aftermath.

No, Skuld dully thought, Don't leave. It wasn't anyone's fault.

But she could feel herself drift off again. In seeing no use of fighting it, Skuld relaxed her body and went back to sleep.

. . .

Third time's the charm, as they say, and this time around Skuld felt much better. Or better enough that she could actually maneuver her body to reach for the call button. It still took a lot of effort, though, and she immediately flopped back down on the hospital bed in exhaustion.

“Skuld?”

Skuld blinked as she looked to who had said her name. To the right of the bed was Ava and Gula. They looked like they had placed another small vase of flowers by her bed and were completely surprised to see her awake. The teen tried to give them a smile of acknowledgment, but it came out as a momentary twitch instead.

“We should get the nurse.” Ava gently whispered to Gula, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I did.” Skuld slurred as she gestured to the call button- it was an attempt to pick it up and show it to the Vulpes headmaster, but it was a futile effort at best.

“How you doing kiddo?” Gula then asked, casually sitting at the end of Skuld's bed as if it weren't a big deal. He even gave her foot a playful pat before adding, “Enjoy your nap?”

“Gula!” Ava admonished before giving him a whack on the shoulder.

Gula only shrugged while giving a playful laugh. “Honest question.” he casually proclaimed. Skuld looked between the two of them like she had never seen them before. Maybe a part of her thought she didn't.

“My head is… numb?” she admitted in a slow drawl. “Still so tired...”

“Do you remember what happened?” Gula asked. His smiling face diminishing quite a bit to something more serious. Skuld raised an eyebrow before looking down at her hands. That was an idea she hadn't really considered until now. Her face scrunched as she tried to recollect her memories.

“I sent an email...” came the slow answer. “I got up and things were… wrong. Someone was at my door? Anna? Nora…?”

“Anora.” Gula corrected her. His tone was a bit darker than before now too. “Anora had come to your dorm just as you fainted. She called the ambulance for you.”

“Right… Anora...”

A small silence fell between the three of them as Skuld tried to further recollect her memories. She knew who Anora was, right? Skuld reclined a bit and in a brief flash when she closed her eyes, she could see a pink haired girl who very seldom talked and was currently the object of attention from…

“Ephemer.” Skuld wondered out loud as she looked back at Ava and Gula. “Is he with you?”

“Ephemer will be coming by later.” Ava told her. “He needed a little more time to… to process what had happened.”

“Idiot thinks its his fault.” Skuld huffed. She noticed her mental flub a moment too late, but didn't bother to correct herself. Gula laughed at it, though.

“Nice to know your sense of humor is still in tact.” he teasingly mused. It earned him another hard smack on the shoulder and Ava saying his name in a very disapproving manner. This time, Skuld did manage to smile, but it was still half formed and looked rather lopsided. Still, the attempt had been made, and only seeing it out of the corner of their eye made both Gula and Ava relax a bit more.

The soft moment was only interrupted by the nurse finally coming into the room. Ava and Gula excused themselves not long after, allowing the nurse to have more room to do her work. After some time the nurse called in the doctor for further tests. The doctor assigned to Skuld's case arrived about ten minutes after that. Not that Skuld was complaining when she saw him- he was super cute.

“How are you feeling, Miss Niyati?” the doctor asked her as he looked up from his clipboard of notes on her condition. He hit her with a million watt smile that nearly made Skuld's blood pressure spike.

Despite this, she gave him the automatic reply of “Dead.” without any thought put into it. The doctor laughed at this.

“Well, these charts say otherwise.” he humored her. “But that's just a sign you're still living, isn't it? Do you feel any pain, or a bit woozy?”

Skuld gave a small half shrug at first. “I think I have a delay. Words don't sound… good.”

The doctor once more gave her a kind smile before assuring her that such things were natural after an unexpected nap time. He went on to explain a lot more about how she had gotten there. Apparently she had taken too much acetaminophen and her body had shut down before any major damage could be done. The doctor told her that she was lucky to have gotten to the hospital as quickly as she did. Who knows how long she would have been out -let alone if she could even be woken- had her friend (Anora?) not contacted first responders right away.

It took some more time for them to run through some basic response tests before the doctor decided that she was good for now.

“I'll have a nurse come by so we can get your body weight before we do an MRI. With all luck Miss Niyati, you'll be out of here in no time.”

“Good.” Skuld replied with a small sigh. She was starting to feel a lot like herself again, and the idea of being in a hospital any longer than she needed to was starting to bug her.

“By the way,” the doctor said, almost as if he had forgotten something important. “Your friend, the one that came with you, she's still sitting outside. Would you like me to tell her that she can come in and sit with you?”

Skuld paused for a moment, looking up at the doctor like she had no idea what he was saying. But then it hit her; it must have been Anora. Right? Gula had said that Anora had called the ambulance, but he didn't say if she had come to the hospital as well. Ephemer had yet to show up, so maybe she was keeping watch for him?

The young woman carefully shook her head at the doctor. “She's waiting for someone.” she told him. He gave her an affirmative nod in agreement.

“Well, if that's all,” he said to her, “Then I'll be on my way. Remember, I'll have a nurse coming by for you later so be on the look out and try not to go to sleep again. Alright?”

At Skuld's agreeing nod, the doctor gave her one last brilliant smile before making his leave. Once the door closed, Skuld let out a long sigh as she relaxed against the hospital bed. Her head lulled over to the side so she could look at the small assortment of get well soon cards and flowers her bedside table had accumulated. When the nurse had helped her, Skuld had convinced them to read a few cards to her. They were all nice gestures- some of them were littered with apologizes about the school play.

But that was a subject for a different time.

Skuld's thoughts were interrupted when she heard the door to her hospital room open and close. She looked up to see Ephemer and Anora. Ephemer looked like a wreck- his eyes were bloodshot from crying, his clothes were put on rather haphazardly, and his hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in weeks. Anora, standing a little behind him, was nothing more than a shrinking wallflower that didn't want to get in the way between the old friends. Seeing them was almost a relief.

Skuld tried to give them her best smile before fondly remarking, “There you are. I was wondering how long it was gonna take for you to show up.”

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