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cryptidcasanova · 2 years

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Those Summer Nights

Eddie Munson x Reader

2.7k Words

Summary: Maybe Eddie’s not quite ready to high-tail it out of Hawkins after all. A night at the carnival could change his mind.

I just want Eddie to be happy. He deserves it.

The carnival lights were blinding, flashing red and yellow across the row of games and rides. The summer heat lingered in the air even as the sun was setting. But it was comfortable, the humidity hanging onto the attendees like a long-lost friend.

It was the official start of Summer in Hawkins, Indiana.

Jocks wore their letterman jackets to show off their new pins, and off in the distance, cheerleaders were piling out of one of their mom’s Volvos. They were primped and beaming with excitement. It was one last attempt to start a fling to last the summer.

Children were screaming and laughing, running around the open fields and the hay maze with their parents were running after them, losing their snow cones in the chase. The air smelled like popcorn and sugar.

And for the first Friday night all year, Hellfire Club wasn’t sitting in a back room at Hawkins High.

Mike, Dustin, and Lucas looked wide-eyed, hustling ahead of the group as they jumped out of the van. They looked ahead in wonder. Tonight was one last attempt to hang on to their childhood innocence.

The older boys of Hellfire followed in the rear, piling out of the van with lazy grins. They were all sporting their Hellfire shirts. Well, all except for one.

Eddie Munson climbed out of the driver’s seat with fresh eyes.

As he jumped down and slammed the door, he pulled a hand of ringed fingers through his hair. Eddie was wearing a black tee cropped with some scissors, stopping just above his belly button. There was a sliver of skin peeking out, teasing all the women of Hawkins to what they were missing.

He sported dark pants tucked into his second-hand combat boots, and tied around his waist was an old jean jacket his uncle had outgrown. He looked like a new man with his arms on display. Eddie showed off fresh ink, a silhouette of the grim reaper on his bicep.

He cheated death, and his name was cleared for the murder of Chrissy Cunningham.

He graduated high school.

And after tonight, he was leaving Indiana in his rearview.

When he turned towards the carnival lights, his eyes were practically glowing.

Freedom at last.

About an hour later, Eddie was leaning against a picnic table, listening to Henderson go on about how the Zipper was far scarier than the Tilt-a-Whirl, but his eyes kept wandering.

He watched on in the distance how families were playing ring toss, getting ripped off by the sleazy man behind the counter. The rings weren’t big enough, and the bottles were too far apart.

People bet on electric racehorses in the next stall and watched as the unpredictable underdog won the race. In the distance, Eddie could hear someone fall into the dunk tank. The lazy grin never left his face. He had never appreciated it like this before.

And out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a glint of metal shining off a neon sign. His eyes focused. Turned away from him, a woman was animatedly talking to someone with her hands, her fingers covered in rings. With the wave of her hand, her rings shone against the lights. Eddie absentmindedly rubbed his own fingers at the similarity.

She wore jeans and a leather jacket, even in the humidity.

He watched her talk to her friends, trying to recognize the voice turned away from him, but he couldn’t place it. The soft lilt sounded like a tune he could play on his guitar, something slow and tender. It was wicked. And then she laughed. It was gentle, something genuine, and Eddie could have sworn he felt his heart skip a beat.

“Uh, Earth to Eddie,” Henderson droned, not understanding Eddie’s distraction. The teenager looked up at him with impatience. “I thought we were gonna head over to the basketball hoops to watch Lucas win it big.”

But Eddie’s dark eyes barely hovered to Henderson’s before looking back to where the woman stood. But he couldn’t find her in the crowd. She was gone.

His eyes weren’t playing a trick on him, but even then, he squinted, hoping it was a mistake. She couldn’t have gone far. But Gareth was tugging Eddie’s sleeve, urging him up as the boys took the lead.

Hellfire Club wove through the crowds like the rabble-rousers they were made to be. They jumped around and caused a commotion, but it was all good fun. Maybe it was to scare the Baptist minister’s wife, but mostly it was in good fun.

They were the corruptible D&D gremlins of Hawkins.

They passed by the families that believed in Eddie’s innocence and even the ones that didn’t trust him. Everyone was at the carnival. It wasn’t unusual to see so many people, but tonight Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to worry about what the town thought of him. He had been through too much to care. He just wanted to spend his night with his friends, looking at some babes, and smoking the night away.

Lucas led the boys to the row of basketball hoops, and the pillars of the booth were brimming with stuffed animals. There were stuffed teddy bears, stuffed aliens, and even the odd horse or unicorn.

And Lucas was planning to win the biggest, ugliest bear he could find. For Erica, of course. Only the best for Lady Applejack. The freshman superstar was sure he could win it.

Eddie, Gareth, and the others watched with varying interest as the timer ticked down and Lucas shot the basketball at the moving basket. The kid was skilled, or maybe lucky, but he was on the right track to winning a prize.

The vendor looked bored, even as Dustin and Mike were screaming their encouragement. If Eddie wasn’t grinning from their antics, he might have been embarrassed. He shook his head. Nah, he’d never be embarrassed by them.

Across from the basketball stalls was the line for the carousel, and for a split moment, Eddie thought he spotted the same glint of metal against the light. But it was gone before he could focus.

A moment later, the buzzer went off at Lucas’s stall, pulling Eddie’s attention back to the game. He won. That crazy kid shot enough baskets to win a prize. Mike and Dustin were jumping and cheering, and even Eddie swallowed a grin before taking a step closer to the boys.

“It seems we have a victor,” Eddie continued with a severe expression, but he wasn’t using his voice.

It was a voice they had heard a dozen times in their campaign. It was the voice of the King of Dusseldorf. Eddie tucked a piece of his hair above his lips, creating an imposing mustache.

“It seems we have a brave warrior in our midst. I think you’ve earned the title of knight, my good man. Kneel before your king,” Eddie rumbled, stealing the attention of people passing by.

But Hellfire Club was in awe, and Lucas kneeled before Eddie with his stuffed bear before looking down at the ground. Using his free arm, Eddie extended his hand like a sword.

“I dub thee Knight Sinclair, the sharpest shot this side of the Mississippi.”

Eddie moved his hand to touch either side of Lucas’s shoulders with elaborate movements before the freshly knighted noble stood. Hellfire Club erupted in cheers, and it was only when Eddie heard his name called out that he turned around.

Members of the varsity Basketball team were glaring daggers between Eddie and Lucas. How Eddie had stolen Lucas away to his degenerate club. Some things were never going to change in such a small town.

“Munson,” One of the boys, Kyle, called out. “Why don’t you give it a shot? You can talk all that nonsense, but I bet you can’t make one damn basket.”

Kyle’s tone was light, but it was far from playful. He was taunting Eddie, drawing the people's attention in the surrounding area.

Eddie didn’t have anything to prove to the dimwit from his algebra class. But he couldn’t be made a fool in front of the people in his kingdom. He was a king, after all. And a king didn’t cower in front of some mouth-breathing bully.

Eddie tutted, taking half a step closer to the basketball player.

“You talk big, pal. What are you trying to compensate for?” Eddie finished with a wink. Hellfire Club snickered behind their fearless leader.

Kyle didn’t like that.

The jock stepped forward, and from where Eddie was standing, he noticed Kyle was blocking his view.

The girl with the rings stepped off the carousel and looked at him, watching the scene unfold. She lifted her hand to sit under her chin, her eyes striking Eddie down where he stood.

He couldn’t breathe. He was sure he was paralyzed.

He had never seen her before. He had never seen an angel before either and was convinced they were one and the same.

Her expression was curious, almost asking a question.

What was Eddie going to do?

“You’re chicken-shit, Munson,” Kyle interjected, pulling Eddie’s attention away from the dark angel of his dreams. His eyes glazed over to the man in front of him. “Once a freak, always a freak.”

“Come on, Eddie, you don’t have to do this.” Gareth urged.

“He’s not worth it,” Dustin added.

But Eddie wasn’t listening. His eyes returned to the woman, half convinced she was a dream. But she wasn’t a dream.

She was still there, watching him like he could be the white night she needed to save her from the evil forces of Varsity Sports. Eddie was going to be her white knight.

“I’ll do it.”

Eddie’s words were firm. A round of scoffs and jeers sounded off from Hellfire Club, but Eddie silenced them with a piercing expression.

Kyle stepped up and across from Eddie, both men taking their places on either side of the divider.

A small crowd had formed around them, and when Eddie turned, he noticed the girl was closer now. She watched him with mild curiosity, and he couldn’t help but look back.

He charted a path from her eyes down to the curve of her lip and was breathless. He saw the clever quip in her eyebrow from the front of the crowd and how she bit down on her lip.

Eddie remembered her laugh from earlier.

He was sure he had found a real, life siren. And he was ready to sink down, to drown just to hear the noise again. But she smiled when his eye caught hers again. She gave him a nod, something gentle, to urge him on. He could do this. He turned back to the game, biting the inside of his cheek.

Kyle had already started his timer in the next stall, shooting baskets but not making nearly as many as Sinclair. And Eddie let a scary thought reach him.

He had never played basketball before. And he didn’t really plan on spending money at the carnival. He didn’t have the extra money to spend.

Still, Eddie reached into both of his pockets, finding a single quarter in his back pocket before thanking the heavens.

Eddie took a breath as he slid the coin over to the attendant.

Shit. What was he thinking?

But instead of making serious shots, Eddie decided to make a game of the game.

He threw the basketball with half-assed attempts to make the basket. He was throwing trick shots between his legs, spinning in circles before shooting, and even throwing the ball like a bowling ball down the lane.

Hellfire Club was hollering. They were cheering him on the same way they cheered Lucas on. The crowd of people was cheering for his foolish shots. They laughed and jumped out of the way when one of the balls ricocheted back. The positive reaction made Kyle stop shooting. He looked back to Eddie’s booth and how he was getting the crowd all riled up.

That wasn’t what he wanted. He thought Eddie was making fun of him.

“Quit fooling around, freak.”

But Eddie didn’t pay him any attention. Instead, he spent every opportunity gauging the ring girl’s reaction. She was grinning from cheek to cheek, watching him ardently. Couldn’t she see the effect she had on him? Eddie felt like a goddamned peacock trying to keep her attention.

And then, as the last ten seconds appeared on the board, people started counting down. Eddie had yet to make a basket. He was going to go out with a bang.

He turned away from the basket, looking at the ring girl before giving her a wink. He covered his eyes with one hand, holding the basketball with the other, and threw the ball into the air with a grin peeking out beneath his fingers.

And the ball went high, way up and into the air, and as people kept counting, Eddie couldn’t find the courage to move his hand out of his face. Maybe his mild fear of losing was getting the better of him, or perhaps he was struggling to look the woman of his dream in the eyes.

And for those ten long seconds, he swore they lasted forever.

Slowly, the ball came back down, and everyone waited in anticipation.

He could have heard a pin drop. And he heard when the ball hit the backboard. In all its mighty trajectory, the basketball landed in the basket. The board above the game flashed from 00 points to 02, and the buzzer went off.

He made it.

Hellfire Club was going feral, and the crowd erupted in hefty applause. Eddie did it. It was only then that he let his hand fall from his face, and if he felt like he was glowing before, he was beaming now.

His eyes shifted from his friends to the crowd to ring girl. A toothy grin lit up on her face. She was absolutely stunning.

Kyle huffed and disappeared into the crowd with a frown, and the rest of the jock goons followed. Neither Eddie nor the rest of Hellfire Club noticed, but the D&D group finally saw how their leader looked into the crowd.

The smitten grin on his face and the way his cheeks were burning could only mean one thing.

Lady luck found him at last.

The booth vendor finally looked a little more lively after the wild turn of events reached out, handing Munson his own prize.

It was a smaller teddy bear, something of a consolation prize, and as Eddie took it in his hands, his eyes lit up.

He knew what he had to do.

With three brave steps, he moved towards the girl, his eyes locked on hers the whole time. And then, when he finally got close enough, he handed the bear to her.

Her eyes lit up.

She took the bear from him, their ringed fingers clacking together for a moment, and a quick, timid grin morphed on her face.

She was warm. She was tender. And she looked down to the bear, shifting it in her hands, and looked back up at Eddie with awe.

He couldn't remember the last time someone looked at him that way. He didn't know if anyone ever had.

“For the fair maiden,” Eddie said with a grin.

He hoped she couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest.

She took half a step closer. Bringing the teddy bear with her, she turned its face outward, reaching up and touching its nose to Eddie’s cheek.

A kiss on the cheek for her champion.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a small notepad and a pen, but Eddie's attention was locked on the warmth of her eyes. His eyes flickered down to her lips, and before he knew it, she was taking his hand in hers.

"You’re brave for standing up to him. I guess that makes you a hero. My hero,” She teased. “Here, for the hero of Hawkins." She smiled, closing his hand around the note left in his palm. She winked before stepping back and disappearing into the crowd.

And when Eddie finally dared to look down, he saw her scribbled phone number next to her name. The stars were in his eyes.

When Eddie looked back to Hellfire Club, they were wide-eyed and cheering him on.

He had to go after her.

They urged him to go, and with one last look back, Eddie couldn't help but think he'd be spending a little more time in Hawkins.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #eddie munson

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nsheetee · 4 years

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Awaken

Pairing: chenle x reader Genre: friends to lovers AU, fluff, mature content Length: 6.4k Summary: When Chenle invites you on a last minute trip to his family’s home in China, you’re excited at the prospect of a small vacation and about spending time with your crush. Surprisingly, Chenle’s extended family is there as well, and a series of events quickly awaken something new in both of you. Warnings/Details: female reader, explicit sex (breeding kink, unprotected sex [please stay safe], creampie) disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. the characters and events are not a reflection of reality or meant to offend in anyway.

“What do you mean you can’t come? We were talking about this literally last night, and not even 12 hours later, you can’t come?!” Chenle practically screams into his phone as he stuffs random pants and shirts into his open suitcase. “Explain yourself, Park.”

“My mom suddenly wants me to come home.” Jisung sounds apologetic and slightly timid, “She said she’s cooking dinner tonight for our family and if I’m not at the table she’ll cut my tongue off. I know she won’t actually do it, but... I don’t want to test it.”

Chenle sighs, sounding bothered by this predicament, but Jisung knows his best friend isn’t going to be that sad about his absence. It’s not like Jisung has never been to Chenle’s house in China, and although he loves the place, he knows this won’t be the last opportunity for him to fly there. When Chenle sighs once more, this time just to be annoying and show how irritated he is, Jisung speaks again.

“Don’t be like that. You love visiting your family, just think of it as an opportunity to spend more time with them.” Jisung hears Chenle fall onto his bed on the other side of the line.

“I do love to visit, but my whole family is either younger than nine or older than thirty-five. I just want someone that’s my age to be with me if I feel lonely.” Jisung pouts at that. Chenle is an outgoing person and loves to be around the people he’s comfortable with, so hearing that he gets lonely without his best friend makes Jisung’s heart hurt a bit. However, an idea suddenly pops into his head.

“Hey, you actually do have another friend our age, and I bet she would love to go to China with you.” At the mention of a ‘she,’ the only ‘she’ both Chenle and Jisung know at the moment who would want to hang out, Chenle sits up straighter on his bed and his heart rate speeds up.

“Oh, ___?” He tries to sound nonchalant, “I’m not sure. She would be meeting my family, won’t she think that’s weird? And what if she feels uncomfortable? It’s not like she can just go home—”

“There are lots of what if’s, Chenle. All I know is that she finished her finals and is on break, and probably deserves a small vacation for her hard work.” Jisung pushes, suddenly excited that he can’t come on the trip if it means Chenle can get closer to you. “Just ask her. I promise it won’t hurt.”

“If she says no, it will hurt my pride. So, that’s a lie.”

“Chenle.” Jisung replies flatly.

“Fine, fine, I’ll ask.” Chenle plays with the hem of his shirt, thinking about how nervous he got over this trip just by adding you into the equation. With some last goodbyes and a promise that Chenle will update Jisung about everything that happens this weekend, the call ends. Chenle fidgets through his phone, procrastinating calling you, but when every single app is checked and there is only the phone icon staring back at him, Chenle sighs and finds your contact, pressing the call button.

After meeting you through Jisung, you and Chenle quickly became close friends. You’re both easy-going, prefer staying up late at night, and okay with being lazy at home, so hanging out together is easy to do. It also doesn’t hurt that you’ll eat literally anything Chenle cooks, boosting his pride tenfold when you praise him endlessly for his cooking. Actually, one night at his house after he made dinner and you shared a bottle of wine on the rooftop of his house while looking at the night sky, wishing the light pollution didn’t erase all the stars, that’s when he figured it out.

You’re important to Chenle. So, so important.

He knows he has feelings for you, and that he cares about you deeply. He is aware of your presence whenever you’re in the same room and gets that longing feeling in his stomach when your attention is taken away from him. There is no doubt that Chenle is in the middle of falling head over heels for you, but he always feels the need to keep a few steps back.

He walks on a tightrope, on one end is friendship and on the other is love, and he’s stuck in the middle. You’ve given him hints of attraction and subtle nuances in your words that could possibly mean you have feelings for him as well, but nothing concrete enough that gives Chenle the confidence to walk further along the tightrope.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip can bring you two closer to the end of this balance beam.

“A trip?” Chenle hears excitement in your voice after he explains what happened with Jisung, and he feels hopeful, “That sounds like fun!”

“Great. I’ll pick you up in three hours.” Chenle feels giddy and nervous at the same time, his leg bouncing up and down to portray all of his feelings.

“Oka— Wait. Three hours?”

“Bye!” Chenle abruptly ends the call before you can ask anything else or change your mind, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed. He takes a few deep breaths and then stands up, continuing to pack his things. This time with more skip in his step that’s fueled by the promise of your presence with him for the whole weekend.

It’s already nearing 6pm when you arrive in Shanghai. You follow Chenle closely as he leads you through the airport, looking really confident about every turn he makes as he weaves through the busy and tired looking people. However, you’re both thrown off your path when a large window on your right catches your eye, the night view of the city of Shanghai making you stop in your tracks and swerve to take a closer look.

Your hands smudge the clean windows as you lean in and stare at the enormous city, the sparkling lights and tall buildings look like you just took a flight to the future, not just a few hours south.

“It’s pretty…” You trail off, not really talking to anyone in particular. Chenle, who followed you to the window and also stares at the view from beside you, smiles at the comment.

“You like it?”

“It’s amazing…” You sound like you’re in a daze, which makes Chenle smile wider.

“I should show you the view from the balcony in my room. It’s ridiculous.” Chenle nods and gives the view one more glance over. His words bring you back to reality, making you shiver.

In Chenle’s bedroom… where so many things other than watching the night sky can happen.

You heat up in embarrassment at the dirty thoughts, yelling at yourself in your head for thinking like that when Chenle probably meant it in the most innocent way.

“We should probably get going..” Chenle seems completely oblivious to your predicament, yawning as he turns around and continues walking through the airport. You follow him, lightly biting the inside of your cheek as your previous thoughts fly through your mind again.

The Shanghai airport is crowded, almost over-crowded. After traveling further through the airport, it gets hard to follow Chenle’s leather bucket hat that bobs through the sea of people and you have to grip onto his backpack so that you don’t lose him. He feels the sudden weight on his bag, turning around to see you struggling.

His hand finds yours, making you release the grip on his zippers and instead intertwine with his fingers, turning to look forward and once again leading you to baggage claim. Your hands start to sweat and you feel embarrassed, but Chenle doesn’t seem to mind as he squeezes your fingers softly and glances back at you to make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t let go of your hand until your luggage arrives, and when he does release your hold, you feel very cold and empty from the lack of Chenle’s touch.

“Mom, I’m home!” Chenle yells into his house, dragging his suitcase behind him and taking off his shoes, “I brought a friend.” You both leave your things at the door and Chenle hands you some slippers, then you follow him through the house in search of his mother. You find her in the kitchen, stove on and several pots and pans cooking food at once.

“Chenle!” She exclaims after seeing her son, and then her eyes fall on you.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet her, slightly unsure of what her reaction to you will be.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be bringing your girlfriend here.” She laughs gleefully and leaves the stove to come closer, almost jumping on the tile floors over to you.

“Oh, we’re n-” You begin, but Chenle cuts you off.

“Jisung couldn’t come, so I brought ___ here instead. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” She smiles, which makes you relax a bit, “You’ve never brought anyone here other than Jisung, I was beginning to think you don’t know anyone other than him.”

It’s your turn to laugh, covering your mouth as you glance at Chenle to see him roll his eyes with a sour look on his face. Before he can retaliate, his mom cuts him off.

“Well, since you’re here, could you set the table? I’m running late on dinner and I need extra hands. Get out eleven plates and those high chairs we keep in the closet.” She quickly makes her way back to the stove after warmly rubbing your arm, moving faster than your eyes can follow as she adjusts spices and stirs.

“Why so many?” Chenle asks.

“Your aunts and uncles are coming over today.” At that information, you turn to face Chenle with an unsure look painted on your face.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You step closer to him and whisper, “If you’re having a family dinner, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Of course it’s okay. Don’t even worry about it.” Chenle gently grabs your shoulders and turns you around, forcing you to walk out of the kitchen and back into the foyer. You collect your luggage and head upstairs.

Chenle’s house has an impressive three stories with several bedrooms, an office, and a lounge room in the top two floors and the rest of the important rooms on the first floor. You didn’t see much of the backyard, but you caught sight of several trees that surround the house, making the area more private. Considering this place is close to the city, you’re amazed at how all of this belongs to Chenle and his family.

His room is on the third floor, and you take a look inside when he sets down his things on his bed. The balcony he mentioned earlier is covered with long white curtains and his bed is wide, taking up a good chunk of space. On the other side of the room, a TV hangs on the wall and there are several gaming consoles hooked up. Overall, a normal guy’s room.

“You’re next door…” He mumbles and leads you to the room next to his. The layout is a mirrored version of his room, only the balcony is replaced with large windows and the room is more generic looking rather than lived-in like Chenle’s. You set your things down and glance out of the window; you’re met with the canopy of trees that grow in his backyard.

“And your bathroom is right here,” Chenle’s voice brings you back to the room, showing you inside the bathroom, “And if you need anything, my room is right through here.” He opens a door in the bathroom to reveal his room on the other side. You nod and walk over to the bed, plopping down on the soft covers.

“Your house is amazing. I feel like I’m staying at a fancy AirBnB… but I don’t have to pay for it and there’s a family staying here too.” You both laugh at that, but your comment has you questioning your stay here some more.

“You’re sure it’s okay for me to be here? I don’t want to take your time away from family.” You bite your lip and look up at Chenle, looking for his honest answer. You’d hate for Chenle to not spend all the time he can with his family while he’s here, considering he can’t visit often.

“I am 100% sure that you’re okay to stay here. I think everyone will l-love you.” Chenle clears his throat after his stutter, hoping you wouldn’t question his sudden nerves surrounding the topic of love.

“Okay.” You nod and rub your hands over your thighs to rid yourself of anxiety. You only keep asking because you hate to be an intrusion. But if Chenle is sure that your presence here is okay, then you’re going to enjoy this vacation to the best of your abilities.

“You get settled, I’ll go help my mom. I’ll get you when dinner is ready.” Chenle turns around to leave the room, but you stop him.

“Oh, I can help. It’s the least I can do, and it seems like there’s a lot to get ready.”

“But you’re a guest—”

“I don’t mind.” You smile and leave the room first, looking over your shoulder as if to beckon him to try and stop you. Chenle doesn’t, partially because he wants to spend any second he can with you, even if it’s just setting the dinner table. But he also doesn’t stop you because that would mean grabbing onto your hand and pulling you back, and Chenle almost had a heart attack at the airport the first time he did that. Thinking back on it, the action felt natural but it still startled him, and he can’t get the feeling of how your soft hands feel in his own out of his head.

“Hey, wait up! You’ll get lost.” Chenle calls out and quickly follows you out of the room.

Chenle’s family loves you. In fact, Chenle thinks they love you just a little too much.

From his mom cooing at you as you help Chenle properly set the table to his aunts and uncles endlessly talking about your hobbies and school, it seems like you’re the life of the party tonight. However, that’s not what catches Chenle’s eye.

As he’s carrying some drinks to his dad and uncles who decided to sit outside after eating, Chenle passes by the living room to see you and his nieces and nephews playing. You’re reading a book to one of the younger kids while the others are coloring next to you and constantly showing you their art, seeking your approval or ideas on what they should draw next. Chenle’s two older nephews are playing tag around the table, and overall it’s just a whole ruckus. Chenle only has a chance to glance into the room for a second before continuing his trip outside to deliver the drinks.

As he’s coming back in, he’s startled by his older nephews who took their game of tag out into the hallway, almost running into Chenle.

“Woah, woah, woah. You shouldn’t be running in the hallway, get back in the living room.” Chenle ushers the boys back and once all of them are in the living room, he shuts the doors completely to keep anyone from going back out. His eyes land on you, you’re in the same position as you were before, but now you look up at Chenle and give him a warm smile while patting the spot next to you.

Chenle sits with his legs crossed while facing the same direction as you, looking over his niece's artwork and complimenting their scribbling, and then leaning back against the couch to mirror your position.

“I guess it’s more fun to play with the kids than with the adults?” Chenle asks, making your attention move from the TV screen where a kid’s movie is playing to meet Chenle’s eyes.

“Don’t you find it fun to play with kids? I think there’s never a dull moment with these guys.” You laugh and motion around the room as if to make your point.

“So, you like kids?” Chenle asks.

“Yes, a lot.” You nod, watching him look away and nod at your words. “What about you?”

“My nieces and nephews are… a bit too wild for me.” He admits, “But I like kids. I would like to have my own kids in the future.” Chenle speaks without really thinking about his words, just talking to you about anything is nice. When he realizes what he said at the end, his eyes glance over at you to gage your reaction.

“Same here. There’s some special sort of happiness that comes with having kids. I see it all the time on mothers’ faces, and I always wonder what it feels like. I bet you can’t really find that kind of feeling anywhere else in the world.” You muse, and Chenle quickly agrees with your sentiment, involuntarily gulping as the thoughts in his head rampage.

Could you get anymore perfect for him?

You look down at your thigh, for some reason not being able to look at Chenle in the eye. “I think… You’ll be a really good father, Chenle.”

Just from your simple words, Chenle’s heart begins to pound in his ears and warmth spreads through his chest. He watches you shyly look up at him, not being able to do anything but stare at you for fear of his body moving without his control.

“Can you please read again.” His youngest niece breaks the staring contest between you two with her question, pulling your gaze away from him. When your attention is on his niece, he quietly slips out of the room and stumbles up the stairs to his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He paces around his bed, his hands running through his hair as he tries to figure out

what just happened. You said you like kids. You said you would like kids in the future. You also said you think Chenle would make a good father. Are you purely giving him compliments or… could you be hinting at something else?

Why does Chenle feel like his heart might explode any second if he keeps thinking about you. On second thought, he looks down, his pants might be the thing that explodes. Chenle sighs, slightly embarrassed that he got hard by just thinking about you.

You looked so cute playing with his nieces and nephews, so kind and genuinely warm hearted to them that it melted Chenle’s heart. He wants to see it again. He wants to see you reading a book to them and changing your voice for every character, listening intently as they tell you story after story, rubbing their backs gently as they color.

Chenle wants to see you like that with his kids.

His own thought scares him a bit, and he sits down on his bed while trying to calm his breathing. He’s even more surprised at the shot of pleasure that runs through him at his own idea. He feels his stomach turn pleasantly at the thought of a little you and him running around, you showing your love to both Chenle and your child.

Warmth grows in Chenle's heart; he wants it so bad.

He can imagine the picture so clearly in his head that it hurts him to think about it, since he knows he’s far from that point in his life. That doesn’t stop him from getting turned on, though. He digs the heel of his palms into his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to think of something —anything— else. Why is it that whenever you’re around, he can’t think of anything, but whenever you’re not around, he can only think of you?

‘It’s useless’ he sighs, scooting up on his bed and moving his bedsheets away.

Sitting against his head board, Chenle grips his sheets in one hand and his other slides down his stomach, tickling him slightly, and over his crotch. Swallowing thickly, he closes his eyes and focuses on his warm hand stimulating his member. He can’t help but let out a soft sigh at his own teasing, but soon has had enough and quickly pushes down his pants and boxers to let his dick spring out. Using some precum that glistens as it runs down the side of his dick, he starts pumping his shaft, eventually getting fully hardened.

His wrist turns every time he reaches the end of a pump and he slides down the headboard as his eyes flutter from the pleasure. Chenle is good at staying quiet thanks to the years of practice in his full house, but he can’t help the whines he emits every so often when his fingers move over his tip.

But soon, Chenle turns frustrated. He’s doing all the things he knows his body likes, but his orgasm is just too far away still. He becomes impatient, starting to shift his hips around and rub his length faster as sweat builds on his forehead, but it only hurts his wrist and makes him itch for his orgasm more.

Every time Chenle thinks of you while getting off, he feels a bit guilty.

He hopes you don’t mind it, but you hold a place in his heart and Chenle is very attracted to you, it’s impossible to think of anyone else when he’s in this position. So, Chenle takes a breather, and when he continues his stroking, he thinks about your tiny hand replacing his instead. His eyes immediately roll to the back of his head and he finds it hard to keep himself sitting up.

Chenle’s head is tilted back, his jaw dropping open bit by bit as he moves on to thinking about your warmth mouth around his cock, the way your face would look as you glance up at him and kiss up his thighs before sliding his member through your lips again.

Chenle has to shove the duvet he has been gripping into his mouth to stop the moan that almost leaves his throat, his eyes screwing shut as he imagines how good your wet pussy would feel around his dick, sliding in and out as you chase your own release. He loses composure when he imagines what your pants and moans would sound like in that situation, what your nails would feel like gripping onto his shoulder for dear life, and what the flesh of your hips and waist would feel like under Chenle’s hands as he drives you harder onto his cock.

Chenle eventually starts thrusting his hips up into his hand, desperately chasing his high to the very highest peak. Chenle has thought about you many times while jerking himself off, but this time around, the thing that makes him tip over the edge is the thought of his cum shooting into you. He lets himself fall into the pleasure, seeing stars at the thought of his seed filling you up. He milks himself as strings of cum land on his thighs and pants, going to the very last stroke until it almost feels painful.

He limply falls over on his bed, breathing heavy and ears slightly ringing from the intensity he brought upon himself. When the feeling goes away he opens his eyes and listens to the sounds of the commotion downstairs, his mom and aunties playing with the kids, and the cars that drive by outside his balcony. When he looks over at the bathroom door, his heart drops all the way to his stomach and his head turns fuzzy from panic.

You’re right there.

Maybe you think he doesn’t see you, half hidden by his bathroom door, but he sees your hand resting on the handle and he hears your heavy breaths all the way from across the room. A part of him wants to dig himself into the covers and never come back out, but he pushes that embarrassment away so he can think clearly. You’re just standing there, no doubt just saw him come, why aren’t you leaving?

“___,” Chenle calls out, his voice lower than you expected and making you flinch behind the door. “Come here.” He says it softly, but in a demanding tone, so you open the door all the way and look at him. A mess of sheets surrounds him and his hair sticks to his forehead from sweat, all of this is illuminated by the dim moonlight coming from the balcony. Taking small steps to him, you don’t know what to do with your hands or where to look, but Chenle makes it easy when he pulls you down on the bed next to him.

“Did you like what you saw?” His question startles you, “Tell me the truth.” He adds on. You nod, a question of your own coming to mind.

“Why did you say my name when you were doing… that?” Chenle’s eyes widen, not aware of your name slipping through his lips. “Tell me the truth.” You say back at him.

Something in Chenle tells him that things won’t be the same way between you two after tonight no matter how he tries to amend this situation, so he thinks he might as well take it as far as you’ll let him.

He leans into you slowly, lips sliding past your cheek and teasing the skin there, stopping to whisper into the shell of your ear. “Because I was thinking of you, why else?” He likes how you shiver, he likes seeing the goosebumps on your shoulder from his words. Scraping up as much courage as he can, he leans all the way in and places a hot kiss below your earlobe. He waits for you to push him away, but you only grab onto the front of his shirt for leverage, so Chenle continues. He presses slow and open-mouthed kisses down your neck, almost too slow, until he reaches your shoulder where he bites down gently, raising a sharp gasp out of you.

You push him away and look at his eyes. Chenle is afraid that you’ll tell him to stop because this surely means he screwed up, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the next words that come out of your mouth.

“Tell me what you were thinking about. I’ll make your dreams into reality.”

Chenle’s jaw drops slowly at that, looking over your face for any signs of a joke. But fire burns in your eyes and the hand that’s holding onto his shirt pulls him in, lips crashing together in your very first kiss.

It’s hot, the room and the kiss and the way your hand falls down to chest and stomach to reach his dick, once again twitching from just the slight sting your nails give him as they travel across his body, not to mention the way your tongue slides into his mouth, exploring every corner. The kiss is wet and messy, but neither of you care right now.

“Was it like this? Hm?” You pull away while tilting your head, somehow looking innocent as you start to pump his dick, the same way he did not too long ago. Chenle shakes his head, pushing on your shoulder to get you to sit on the floor. As you slide onto your knees Chenle grips the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head, wiping his hands on it, and throwing it behind him, not caring about how dirty it will be after.

When he looks down at you between his legs, your little hands moving his pants and boxers all the way down his legs, he thinks he must be dreaming. It has to be fake, you look too good with his spit covering your lips and your hands spread out on his thighs, looking up at him curiously as if to ask for what he wants next. This has to be a dream, but when he feels your soft hair bunching up in his hand and the first touch of your puffy lips on his sensitive tip, he knows this is anything but a dream.

He’s all too excited when his hips push up into your mouth and his hand tightens in your hair. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he can’t help how good you’re making him feel. His toes curl, his mouth releases little whimpers and pleas filled with your name, probably the most vocal he has been in his entire life.

You don’t mind the roughness from him, you like it actually, the wetness building in your core proof of that. The sight above you, Chenle’s head tilted back and the outline of his abs flexing every time your tongue swirls around his dick is more than enough to get you heated, desperate for some friction between your legs. Just when you think Chenle is going to cum, he pulls you away from him, surprising you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, suddenly afraid you did something wrong. He groans, his eyes squeezing shut hard enough that the dimples under his eyes come out. He lets you stand up, but grabs the back of your thigh to pull you closer to him.

“I should be good to you, I can’t let you sit on the floor and suck my dick all night, as much as I would like that.” That makes you chuckle a bit. Chenle smiles, moving your shirt up and peppering kisses over your stomach, right above your waistband. You remove your shirt, feeling Chenle’s hands play with the buttons and zipper of your pants.

“What’s next?” You ask after he slowly slides your pants off of your legs and throws them behind you. He looks at you, his eyes conveying how nervous he feels by your question. He’s not sure how you would feel about the next part of his fantasy.

“Can I come in you?” He asks so fast that you almost don’t register his words, but when you do your eyebrows quirk up. When you don’t say anything, Chenle continues, “I know this is kind of wild for our first time together, but I promise I’m clean and—”

“Sure.” Chenle shuts up at that, his eyes wide as he tries to read your face through the lack of good lighting. “I trust you. Do you trust me?” When Chenle nods, you climb onto his lap, your lips meeting again in a softer kiss than before. You grip the strands of his hair in the back of his head as you gently sit down on his thighs. Chenle immediately grabs your hips and pulls you flush against him, chest to chest and hips against hips so that you can feel his dick pressing against your center, raising a strangled gasp out of you.

Chenle takes that moment to slide his tongue in your mouth, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you against him while his other hand moves your hips against his own. His dick rubs against your center, the slickness that has seeped through your underwear making Chenle shake with pleasure. He kisses down your neck and chest to leave hickies on the top of your breasts while continuing to grind up into you, starting to feel obsessed with how you sound every time his dick rubs against your clit.

You’re in the middle of taking off your bra when his hand that was moving your hips moves to your front as he runs two fingers over your covered slit. It surprises you and you let out a moan, forgetting about your bra and covering your mouth to stop yourself from getting any louder. He moves your panties to the side and slides one finger in to test the waters, you clench around him instantly and sigh in relief at how he curls his finger in you.

“Relax,” He mutters and removes your bra all the way for you, his hand once again finding a palace at your waist to steady you on top of him, “I got you. You’re safe with me.” He mumbles against your shoulder between kisses as you get adjusted on top of him. Your nails that were gripping into his shoulders relax a bit, and he adds a second finger to stretch you out some more. Your shaky breath tickles Chenle’s ears when he does so, but eventually you start grinding down on his fingers.

Chenle takes a moment to watch you grind onto his hand, your eyes shut as you’re completely lost in your own pleasure. You even look pretty like this, how is that fair? Chenle can’t help but express his feelings in the form of kisses over any part of your skin he can reach. You’re pretty sure he has kissed everywhere by the time he pulls his fingers away, making you turn your attention on him.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He gives you one last chance to back out, but you nod your head in agreement, your head cloudy from pleasure and your whole body begging for him to fuck you already. He nods too, guiding his dick into your hole and letting you slide down him inch by inch. Every move downward sends his mind blank and his stomach tightening, watching how he disappears into you and twitching from how tight you are. You keep clenching around him and it’s driving him completely insane. He leans back on his hands, breathing deeply to keep himself under control.

When you’re sat all the way down, Chenle takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers together to place your hand against his cheek. You’re not sure if he even realizes he does this since his eyes are still shut in pleasure, but the gesture makes you smile a bit.

When Chenle thrusts up into you, your smile drops. Fuck, that feels good.

Chenle releases your hand and instead takes a hold of your hips keeping you steady as he thrusts up into you in a steady rhythm, drawing out unstoppable groans and moans from both of you, not caring about who’s hearing you two. His hips slap against yours with every move, sending you closer and closer to your high as you hold onto each other. When he stops for a moment, no doubt tired from all of the work, you continue to roll your hips against his.

“Ah—” He groans at your movements, “Oh my god, ___, don’t stop.” He moans. If you thought Chenle’s singing voice sounded heavenly, then you think the voice he used to moan your name might be out of this world, filled with so much feeling and lust that you don’t think he can even register what he’s saying anymore.

You feel your orgasm approaching all too fast, and when Chenle’s hips start to move again, you think he might be close too. That’s when you lean into his ear, the same way he did to you when he started all of this just a while ago.

“Come in me, Chenle.” You beg him, and his hips move faster, the grip he has on your hips so tight you’re sure there’s going to be bruises. You can’t think about it right now, though, as his cock moves in and out of you mercilessly and your name tumbles out of his lips once again.

Your orgasm breaks open throughout you, spreading like a wildfire through your nerves. You’re sure you can feel Chenle all over you and all around you as you come, pleasure filling you up from your head to your toes. As your muscles flutter around him, Chenle lets go too, white and hot springs of his sperm shoot into you. He continues to fuck it into you, slowing down when he feels both of you almost topple over from fatigue.

He slowly lays down in his bed, careful when he rolls you to the side. Sliding his dick out, he watches his white seed flow out of your pussy and down your thigh, his lips opening in awe and surprise at how much he likes the sight.

“Are you okay?” He asks, suddenly realizing the redness around your hips and waist from his own hands.

“Oh, I’m great. I’m wonderful, actually.” You sigh out, your eyes closed as you are still trying to get over the orgasm Chenle gave you. Your words make him chuckle, a bit of cockiness peaking through.

“Huh, I guess I’m that good, yeah?” Chenle makes sure to send you a closed lip smile, and you peak an eye open to hit him gently against the arm before retracting and falling limp again, both of you not able to control your bubbling laughter.

Chenle always imagined what the other side of the balance beam would look like— how it would feel like. Now, as he looks at your messy hair, your shining skin under the moonlight, and your quiet mumbles about random things as you cuddle under the blanket, he thinks it may feel just like this.

Later, after you and Chenle cleaned up a bit and got situated under the covers with you laying your head on his shoulder and him tracing stars, hearts, and the Chinese characters of his name on your back, Chenle gets a phone call.

“Hey, how are you? How’s it going with ___?” Jisung asks on the other side. Once you hear his voice, you perk up and tilt your head to look at Chenle with a raised eyebrow.

“Everything’s good, really good, actually. How’s your family?” Chenle asks back, stopping his tracing for a second to flick your forehead gently, making you slightly scowl at him.

“Good, my mom didn’t cut my tongue off, as you can probably tell.” Chenle lets some air out of his nose in the form of laughter at Jisung’s joke.

“So, why did you call?” Chenle hums into the phone, burying himself closer to you under the covers.

“Don’t you remember? You said you would update me on anything that happens while you’re over there. Did something happen?” Jisung asks and Chenle can’t contain his smile as he answers.

“Park Jisung, I’m so glad you couldn’t come this weekend.”

“What? What does that mean—”

“I’m hanging up now.” Chenle ends the call, throwing his phone somewhere on the bed and wrapping his arm around you, cuddling closer to you and finally falling asleep.

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Text

Seeing Him Smile and Kiss Someone Else (Hoodie X F!Reader)

[Hoodie/Brian Thomas X F!Reader]

[Warnings: none]

[AN: Howdy! I cross post these on quotev under ‘Elsie I Guess’ and on AO3 under ‘Whaletales1920′ under the title ‘The Places You Shouldn’t Be’. Just thought I’d start uploading them here too.]

Part 2

Proxies aren’t supposed to do a lot of things: speak back to their master, challenge hierarchical roles, have relationships with each other of that caliber, and never, never ever absolutely never have romantic relationships with humans.

Why? It’s a losing game. Everyone knows that. Should proxies seek any kind of attachment, platonic, romantic, even sexual, their best bet is to stay within their own kind: other proxies. It’s the polite thing to do. It’s the right thing to do.

When you first came in, you bonded almost immediately to your group of four other individuals. There’s Masky, your group leader. He’s really sweet when he wants to be and seems to care the most about you - it’s probably because you’re new. Toby is akin to the middle child. He’s always buzzing around you a lot like a bumblebee. While he has his jerk moments, he’s got an eye out for you. So too does Kate, once the group’s newbie/runt. She’s the one you replaced. She’s relatively quiet and sticks to herself, but she’s never a stranger to helping you out and immersing you in the culture and world you’ve found yourself entangled in.

And then there’s Masky’s right hand, a proxy named Hoodie, but you know him as Brian. Out of all your group members, Brian was the hardest to warm up to. He hardly acknowledged you when you were first placed in his group and was amongst the hardest in the hazing process (you’re still technically going through). But, after some time and getting to know each other, the two of you became the closest of friends, even going so far as to rival Masky’s friendship with him. It’s safe to say you got a bit of a crush on him, in simplest terms.

Three times. Three times you felt you liked him.

The first time was when you were about to head out of your safe house on a grocery run. Proxies don’t have any leads, so cards are absolutely off the table. You walked out of the safe house, yawning slightly, and barely made it down the driveway when Brian had popped back out of the house.

“Reader,” he called out, slowly moving to lean in the doorway of the empty house the five of you were squatting in.

“Yeah?” You asked sleepily.

“Forgetting something?” He holds up his hand - it’s the wallet.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you speed walked back to the front door to retrieve it. “Guess I’m still kinda tired,” you admittedly awkwardly with a small chuckle.

Brian shrugged slightly and threw you a smirk as he met you halfway, “Think I’ll accompany you this morning,” he said with a wink.

The two of you began to walk as you mentally mulled over the man walking beside you - his hands in his pockets. You’d never really thought of him like that before, but the way he smiled and that wink… It planted a seed. You weren’t quite sure you were going to acknowledge it or if it was just a fluke, but the thought stayed, and then it remained.

As the two of you traversed the grocery store for various things your comrades had asked for, you and Brian traded conversation about everything that popped into mind.

“Oh, like you knew any better in high school,” you wheezed before tossing in a box of brownies. You’d just been discussing how terrible and how gods awful high school relationships can be and how at one low point, you got into one. Brian had said he knew better than to mess around in high school, but you had retorted that ‘we’re all young and dumb once.’

Brian raised a brow at the box but allowed it anyway. “I most certainly did and I knew how things were gonna play out before they even happened.”

“On what basis? It’s not like you have future vision,” You snorted. You watched as he pushed the cart forward as you plucked items you needed from the shelves.

He shot you a look. “I’m a guy, it’s practically flowing through our veins,,” he said as his eyes raked over the list. “I’d most likely be the reason those things are happening to begin with and knowing that is like it’s own future vision..” He flashed his smile at you. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever grew out of the dumb part,” he chuckled.

Your heart skipped.

The second time you thought you liked him was when you were in the car with him, heading back to your safe house (in an entirely different part of the country). The two of you were more than exhausted after clearing a house whose occupants the Operator wanted dead for one reason or another and Brian decided to steal a car. So, there you sat in the passenger seat.

“Something on your mind?” He hummed, arm resting on the console. His hazel colored eyes flicked over to you with interest.

You shrugged, “just thinking.”

“Dangerous for people like us,” Brian chuckled. “Care to get specific?”

You sighed slightly and turned your eyes to the passing street lights overhead as the car pulled onto the late night expressway. “Thinking about all the things I’ll miss,” you admit.

Brian nodded from the corner of your eye. “I think about that stuff too,” he said, a small frown pulling onto his face. “You were finishing up college?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, I guess I’m getting out of the college loan debt but… Y’know,” you trailed off slightly, your posture changing slightly. “Maybe I would’ve been normal. Get a cool job, live a non murderous life, have a family and a loving partner. I don’t know, like, whatever the American dream says we should have. Anything but this.”

Brian laughed slightly, “sorry. It’s not - it’s not you,” he explained. “It’s just awfully similar to what I wanted.”

You turned your attention from the passing lights over to Brian. “White picket fence is your thing?”

“More or less,” he hummed. “Wanted to live the rest of my life like a normal person.

Certainly died like one, more or less,” he finished.

You mentally hummed, already knowing what he was referring to. Died and got resurrected. “Don’t think falling from a floor up counts as normal.”

“Hey, it worked out for…. Something nice,” he quickly chirped. “Fell and met an angel.”

He briefly turned his head to look at you and flashed a grin.

“Oh that’s so bad.”

“You love it.”

You really do.

The third time was when the two of you were on the rooftop of some house you’d been spending a lot of time at. It was kind of nice to be able to settle down in one place for more than a month - it’d been going on close to a year. It was your roof, the one you shared with Brian. Late in the night, when the crickets sang and the stars danced, the two of you snuck up against Masky’s best wishes to talk about the world and life before.

When summer was giving way to autumn and sending cool breezes throughout the night, you and Brian had been up there once again.

“You think EJ will be around?” You asked, looking up at the stars you barely knew the names to. “BEN did say he was in the area.”

“Gonna say yes,” Brian hummed back, momentarily pausing to point out Altair. “He’s always had a soft spot for our group,” he noted. “Why? You looking forward to seeing him?” He chuckled, hand reaching out to ruffle your hair.

You laugh as quietly as you can and shake your head, “we’ve hardly ever spoken!” You giggled. “I just think he’s cool.”

Brian snorted in response and nodded, “yeah, I think so too. Though, where’d you get the opportunity to talk with BEN?”

“There’s a little computer cafe in town,” you said, eyes flicking towards the direction of said cafe. “I’ve been spending a lot of time there. Mostly to use the internet,” you admitted, a slight heat coming to your cheeks. Proxies really aren’t supposed to use the internet. “Toby also sometimes tags along.”

“So that’s where he’s been getting those weird references from,” Brian said with a tone of understanding. “Next time you go, let me know. I’d love to see what you children are up to online,” he teased.

You laughed again and nodded, “sure thing.”

The two of you continued to talk before a particularly hard gust of wind came in. On instinct, you shivered - though you weren’t really cold.

Upon seeing you shiver, Brian took no hesitation in taking off his hoodie, much to your chagrin.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” you began as you attempted to push it towards him.

“I insist,” he had said, already popping the thing over you.

You relented and allowed the giant hoodie to envelop your form like a warm hug. It smelled just like him - something woodsy, smoke, and the faintest of graphite. When you looked back at Brian, he was staring up at the stars, a small smile on his face. His eyes did not leave the inky blueish-black, not even when your hand came within millimeters of holding his.

All it took was three times. Three times to know you liked him, and once to know you’d lost him.

As stated before, it is absolutely a losing game to get involved with humans. Humans are frail and prone to panic. They can’t understand the world the way you do, nor are they suited for life the way you are in their current form. In your society, humans are the lowest of the low, akin to cattle - albeit, sentient cattle. Only when they are lifted from their human status are they finally given the time of day.

He never would have known about her if you never brought up that computer cafe. Truly, it was a mistake on your part. You didn’t mean to, but it had happened anyway.

“Cute place, right?” You smiled, eyes traveling up and down the rows of tables.

“The cutest,” Brian agreed with a small chuckle. “Do we go up to a counter and order or..?” He trailed off slightly as he inspected the place and took in all the minor details.

“Just take a seat, a waiter will be around shortly,” you said, immediately pulling him to your preferred spot by the windows and tucked away into the corner.

Brian followed your lead and took a seat next to you where he immediately powered on the computer. “It’s kinda weird that they let us have food this close to the electronics, no?”

“Oh no, it’s super weird,” you nodded as you began flicking open tabs to get to the things you wanted - maybe say hi to BEN. “But, it works. So like, c’est la vie?” You giggled, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard.

A few moments later, a waitress stopped by. You had already managed to pull up a chat with BEN and were so engrossed in catching up with him that you failed to notice her. You hadn’t even recognized she was there until you heard her giggling at something Brian had said.

“Never thought I’d be that star struck,” Brian had finished the small anecdote with eyes that practically sparkled.

Her smile only widened. “You? The star struck kind?” She teased lightly. “Have to see it to believe it.”

Brian looked up at her, his lips now pulled up into a smile. “You’re looking at it right now.”

It pulled you so hard out of your conversation with BEN that you’d accidentally sent him a half-baked thought. “Wait what?”

Your sound of confusion had snapped the two back into reality. “Oh! I’m sorry, sugar,” the waitress apologized with a slight blush rising to her cheeks. “Was there something I could get you?”

You blinked a few times, your eyes darting between the two before finally managing to stammer out your drink and pastry of choice. You watched as Brian’s eyes followed her out and when she came back in.

Long after the two of you had finished, the two of you decided to head back.

“That was fun,” you said.

“It was,” Brian replied, thoughts drifting elsewhere.

Ever since that moment, he’d been going to the café with and without you. Sometimes you’d find yourself heading there only to see him entranced in conversation with the waitress, and when that happened, you turned right back around. At first it was to give them space, and then it was to give yourself space.

You wished you could allow yourself to weather through this one with grace and that it didn’t bother you, that it didn’t get on your nerves, but it did. Slowly but surely, it had chipped away at some odd part of you that you didn’t even know existed prior to.

Masky was the first to bring it up.

“Reader,” he began. “Can you wrangle Hood from that café? Operator wants us to do something - I just need him,” he said, barely looking up from his newspaper.

“I can go if you want,” you suggested before poking your head back out from the refrigerator.

“Hm?” That got Masky’s attention. “Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrow, giving you an inquisitorial look.

“It’s no big deal,” you said with a small smile as you plucked your drink out from the fridge. “Besides, I think Hoodie’s busy.” You had to fight the unpleasant feeling that bubbled up in your chest after you said that.

“Oh,” Masky gave a hum of recognition. “Toby did mention he was getting a little close to someone there,” he said in passing.

You shot Masky a look.

He shot one back.

Internally, you both know that’s not the best thing - but Masky’s not going to stop his best friend. And you know you won’t either.

Kate mentioned it next, though she seemed to be telling you that you’d get over it. It came relatively out of the blue. See, the two of you were standing in the living room of a house painted in blood just chatting, waiting for the Operator to give you direction on what he wanted for the man he wanted alive when Kate got weirdly serious. She sat down on the sofa and invited you to sit down next to her.

“You can’t keep avoiding him like that,” she hummed, her shoe digging into the man’s chest as he wriggled beneath her step. “I know it’s awkward, but he’s your comrade first.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly pushed at her. “Come on, it’s not that serious,” you said, attempting to play off your feelings that were so gods damn obvious throughout the time you’ve been spending in this area.

“Are you kidding me?” Kate chuckled. “Look,” her hand is on your shoulder as she digs her heel into the man’s chest, cracking his ribs slightly. “It’s uncomfortable. I get that. It’s why we don’t… Do that kind of thing.” She rubbed her thumb in little circles on your shoulder as she grounded you. “It’s probably for the best, even though you can’t see it right now.”

You sighed and gave her a look of slight pain. “You’re probably right.”

“I know I’m right.”

It’s not that Toby is bad at reading a room, but it’s that he’s really bad at reading a room. When the two of you went to the computer café for your outing, he was excited to see the girl Brian was ‘seeing,’ as he somehow managed to miss her from every other precious visit. It was so obvious that they had been - her perfume was practically embedded into his skin now - and his smile was brighter than the sun after seeing her.

And here you were, not even wanting to know her name.

It’s Fiona.

“Toby!” She greeted as she bounded up to your table. “Reader! What a nice surprise!” There was no malice in her tone. She was genuinely happy to see you. “What can I get you two today?”

“C-Chocolate croissant and some h-h-hot chocolate please,” Toby said. He then turned to you, and as if he read your mind, gave her your order as well. “H-How have t-things been?” He asked.

“Really good,” Fiona replied. “He’s such a sweetie, got me this necklace.”

Your eyes immediately left the screen and travelled to her neck. There it was. Beautiful necklace. Silver chain with a hunk of rose quartz at the bottom in the shape of a bullet.You remembered seeing that pendant. It hung on his mirror for such a long time. You once overheard him saying to Kate how it was your possible birthday gift.

“It’s so pretty,” you smiled, eyes not quite following.

You were damn certain if you were suffering from hanahaki you would’ve choked on flowers by now and died. The last nail in the coffin?

Now. Right now. You came back to the safe house just wanting to relax, maybe star gaze for a bit and fall asleep outside - anything and everything sounded better than just being alone in your thoughts after the Operator had some harsh words to say to you on account of your performance slipping ever so slightly from his golden standards. You fix yourself a warm mug of tea and start making yourway to the rooftop. It’s the same path you’ve always taken: head up the stairs to the upper floor, last room on the left side of the hall, go in and open the study windows there and hang out on the roof.

You make sure to take careful steps as you ascend, not wanting to spill any of your carefully made tea as you seek to unwind. With a deep breath, you start making it through the hallway, thankful no one else is here. Masky is away on business, Kate is doing something with Jeff and Toby left a few hours ago to meet with someone he deems important. Come to think of it, you haven’t had the house free in a while.

But, as you step closer and closer to the last room on the left, you hear it. Giggling, whispers, conversation that’s so innocent and intimate at the same time. You notice the study door is closed. It’s never closer. You step closer.

“You’re so sweet,” That’s Fiona’s voice. “You don’t have to get me all these things - I don’t even know where I’m gonna wear all of them.” She giggles.

“Wear a different one every time I come to see you.” That’s Brian. “Gonna be burning through those things like crazy.” You hear the sound of a kiss.

“You got a deal,” Fiona chuckled. Another kiss.

You hear the roof shingles move slightly as they move closer together. Against your better judgment, you push open the study door slightly. Must you be so nosy?

There, sitting on the roof outside the window is Fiona and Brian. She’s wearing his sweater (it’s just polyester) and giggling as he peppers her face in kisses. When she’s decided he’s covered her in enough kisses for an entire year, she presses her lips to his.

He smiles before kissing her back just as fervently.

Without a sound, you begin to head back to your room.

Perhaps tea in your room would be better.

#hoodie #marble hornets #masky #brian thomas #creepypasta #xreader #reader insert #creepypasta x reader #marble hornets x reader #ticci toby #mh #reader

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lovesupernova25 · 3 years

Text

Broken Glass

a Quackity Oneshot

warnings: torture (non-explicit), blood, insanity, brief alcohol

i sat down at my computer, blacked out, looked up at 3 am and this was here. please enjoy. (idea from this one comment on this one tiktok that suggested that quackity uses the shape shifting powers some people hc him to have to torment dream. i’ll see if i can find the tiktok!)

~~~ *** ~~~

Quackity knew what broken glass felt like. He knew how it felt slicing up his hands, his face, being kissed into his skin. But this was the first time he knew what it felt like in his soul. Yeah- that's what this feeling was.

Broken glass.

Quackity didn’t turn around when he heard footsteps getting closer. He knew who it was already. No one else would be in this wasteland he’d built, anyways. No one was ever here.

“Q?” The rumble of Sam’s voice was concerned, almost hesitant. Quackity grabbed a bottle from the rack. “Quackity- you said it was urgent. What’s going on?” He turned, and the liquor slammed onto the counter. He might’ve relished the way Sam startled, on a better day. Quackity’s hands found the shot glasses, twisted the cap of the bottle. The neon blue that sloshed from the cup reflected the thunder in his gaze.

“Quackity, it’s still early-” But he tipped his head, knocked back the burning liquor. This time, Sam didn’t jump when the glass crashed down next to his hand. Quackity splayed his palms on the cool granite and leaned across to level his gaze with Sam’s.

“I need to visit the prison, Sam.”

Sam had the good sense to nod.

Maybe this was the wrong way to deal with things. Maybe strapping on armor and sharpening his knives wasn’t a healthy way to process his ex-fiances showing up trying to- what? Apologize? Make things ‘how they used to be’? If that was the case, they really were just mocking him. Nothing would ever be the way it used to.

It ended in a fight, of course. It ended in his already cracking heart fully giving out, splintering into a thousand shards like shattered fvcking glass. It ended in him envying Schlatt, because at least when his heart broke down he got to leave.

Quackity’s stuck here, with this void in his chest that keeps him floating oddly outside his body as Pandora swallows him whole.

They don’t even bother signing the waivers anymore. It would be ridiculous, at this point, especially since Quackity’s fully decked out in armor and tools. He guesses Sam’s just realized Quackity won’t be the reason Dream gets out of the hell they’ve so carefully crafted for him.

Levers, keys. The threshold to the heart of the prison is as claustrophobic as ever, but Quackity embraces the suffocating heat. There’s not much for his mind to wander on, here. There is the wall of lava, and there is the rasp of his boots on obsidian, and there is the rough leather pommel of his sword. There is, on the other side of the fire, a sacrificial lamb. Quackity grins and it hurts as the lava simmers down.

Sam says nothing.

“Dream…” He leans on the butt of his axe, looming, and his ears are still ringing with screams. “Wouldn’t it be so much easier to give me what I want?” He kneels next to the ragged lump of man on the ground and grabs his chin, forces it up. “C’mon… I would leave you alone then, right? I wouldn’t come, wouldn’t have to hurt you- you would get so much peace and quiet… you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Quackity makes his voice honey, his hand gentle. Gods, he thinks he even sees Dream lean into the touch. It’s pitiful, what the admin has become. One of Dream’s acid-green eyes is bloodied and purple, swollen shut, and a cut on his face oozes crimson. His mouth is positively dripping with the stuff, courtesy of Quackity’s pliers and some molars that were just begging to be yanked. He can hear the ragged, wheezing breaths of the man in front of him and Quackity has never felt so sickeningly alive.

“Heh…” Dream flicks his working eye up to hold Quackity’s gaze. “No-” He coughs violently, wheezing and convulsing. The hacking subsides and he forces out; “No peace in death, Big Q. You’ll know that s-soon.”

Quackity’s lip curls. He stands abruptly, taking little satisfaction in the way Dream’s chin cracks against the obsidian.

“You’re pitiful.” This was supposed to help. He thought it did- when he funneled all the glass inside of him into the swing of his axe, the cut of his knife. When the voices in his head were drowned out by the screaming. But Dream was on the ground, bleeding and broken and still acting like he had the upper fvcking hand, and it turned out the glass had grown only sharper.

This isn’t working.

He paces to the back of the cell and yanks a tattered book off the lectern, flipping through it with a scowl. He’s about to chuck the thing in the lava--just to see if it’ll get a reaction out of its’ author--when a name catches his eye. Gingerly, he thumbs back to the page it was written on. Quackity feels so sick he grins when he finds it.

It’s not just one name. It’s hundreds. Some he doesn’t recognize, but most from this server. In fact- it looks like everyone who’s ever stepped foot in Dream’s land has been scrawled on the black-bleeding page. Quackity even thinks he sees his own name in there somewhere. They cover the page almost entirely in ink, written and rewritten and scribbled over each other.

George, Sapnap, Karl, Tommy. Tommy seems to be in there a lot.

Dream must have sat here for hours, scribbling the names of people he would never see again, alone in his personal hell. It’s sick. And something in the back of Quackity’s mind sparks.

“Dream,” He says, as the start of an idea appears. “How would you like to see your friends again?” He sees the confusion in the prisoner’s eyes and has to fight to keep from grinning. “Or… your old friends, I suppose. But I bet they still care about you, don’t you think?” He sets the book down, pacing towards the heap of blood-streaked orange jumpsuit with mock sincerity plastered over his face. His mouth twitches at the look in Dream’s eyes. There’s fear, suspicion, pain… but also, delightfully, hope. He can see Dream trying to crush it, but it’s there. Gods, Quackity could get drunk on that look. Maybe he already is.

“How do you think,” He leans over Dream, hands folded behind his back. “They would feel about you if they saw you now?”

Quackity really is grinning now. The axe wasn’t working, the knives weren’t working, the pliers only made Dream more determined. It was time for a new tactic. He feels that spark in the back of his mind and fans it, turning away from Dream as it grows. He hasn’t dipped into this ability for a long time--people don’t much like his kind--but the only person to see him now is barely human himself. Quackity closes his eyes as the fire washes over him.

When he turns around, he almost breaks character at the shock in Dream’s eyes.

“George?”

There’s so much raw hurt in his voice- gods, why didn’t he think of this sooner?

“Dream…” Quackity says in George’s voice. “Gods… what happened to you?”

“No… how- George-”

“I mean, everybody says you deserved it.” Quackity makes sure the revulsion is clear on his--George’s--face as he steps closer. “I guess you did… Still, though… this is a new low for you.” Dream is actually trying to push himself up now, trembling on wounded arms. “I mean, don’t you remember how things used to be? When we were all together? And now you’re… this. Not to be rude, Dream, but it’s kind of no wonder no one’s broken you out.”

“Stop, you’re… you’re not even real, I…” Dream screws his eyes shut, chest heaving. Aw. It looks like he’s starting to catch on.

“We were all happy, before.” He continues, letting the glass, the anger, slip back into his voice. “Like a family. And then you ruined it. All you’ve ever been is a parasite- it’s just amazing we didn’t notice sooner.” Quackity snarls with George’s face and he knows Dream can’t separate the illusion from reality. “You know what everyone says? They say good fvcking riddance.” Quackity--George--takes a step toward Dream with every word, until he’s sneering directly down at him. “I used to defend you. Down to the very end, I’d defend everything you did- all the wars, all the hurt, broken promises and broken hearts. I was loyal to you.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Not anymore. Now, I say good riddance with the rest of them.”

Quackity doesn’t know much about George and Dream’s history, but he knew they were close. And Dream, for all his boasting about cutting ties, has never truly let go. “I loved you, Dream. And look where it got us. You’re bleeding out in a cell, alone and powerless, and I…” Quackity turns. It’s a damn good thing he’s an amazing actor, or the look on Dream’s face might just make him lose it. It’s the same look he’s seen on just three people’s faces before; three people with worthless rings and broken promises to tie them together.

(“Didn’t you ever love us?”)

But Dream was right about one thing. Attachments are dangerous. And Quackity can wield them like a sword.

“I’m leaving. I don’t need you, Dream. And neither does anyone else.” His lip curls. “You’re worthless, Clay. I hope you rot.”

And the curtain falls.

Dream has pushed himself against a chest by now, heaving and trembling.

“Stop. Stop this, you’re not him, you’re not-” Another coughing fit seizes him and he hacks up blood.

“Wasn’t it a good performance, though? I think I was spot on, Clay.” Quackity leers, in his own voice now. Gods, that was exhilarating.

Dream rests his forehead against the chest, face contorted. “What do you want?” It sounds almost like a sob. Quackity’s smile drops.

“Oh, you know exactly what I want, Dream. You know exactly why I’m still here, and why you can barely stand.” He cocks his head, lip twitching up into a smile. There are a thousand names scrawled into that book, all of them knives sharpened to cut. Quackity’s just gotten started. “Let's see if someone else could encourage you more.”

Dream barely has time to look afraid before the fire has washed over Quackity again.

Lights, camera, action.

“...You always wanted to be remembered, huh.” Sapnap’s voice says. Dream closes his eyes, breath hitching. “You’d always play the hero, when we were kids. Make George and I be the villains every time.” His eyes have been on the ground, but he lifts them now, stares down the figure in the corner. “Look where that fvcking got us.” And this hurts both of them, Quackity knows- because he knows Sapnap’s voice, his mannerisms, the way he sounds when he’s devastated and the way he sounds when he wants to burn the world with rage. Slipping into his skin is as easy as breathing and feels like suffocating all at once.

“You promised me- you promised me this would be our world. That we’d stay together, that we’d finally be happy.” And it is too easy to let that heartbreak bleed into his voice, sprinkle it with the rage and hate of wasted memories.

(“You promised me we’d be happy together.”)

He paces towards Dream with a glare like wildfire. “Well guess what, Dream. I am happy now. This whole server is happier now.” Quackity yanks the man in the orange jumpsuit up by the collar and snarls at his whimper of pain. “Without you. Without your sick fvcking games, without your wars, without your broken promises!” He’s shouting now, and he can see the whites of Dream’s eyes, like a horse near a fire. Quackity drops him with Sapnap’s hands like a rat he’d been holding by the tail. “Do you remember the promises you’d make, Dream?”

And now Quackity feels himself shifting again, almost involuntarily. His voice pitches higher and demonic horns scrape the obsidian above them. “You promised me peace.” Quackity says in BBH’s voice. “You said we’d be safe, that we’d win the wars!” It’s almost sickening to take the form of someone whose mind he knows is long gone. Worth it, though, to watch Dream squirm. “Is this what peace looks like to you, Dream? I can’t even remember what your face looks like!” There’s desperation in his voice, though Quackity doesn’t even know if what he’s saying is true. For all he knows it could be. “I can’t remember,” He takes a step towards Dream, glowing eyes wide with horror “What my own face looks like.”

“Bad-” Dream’s voice is almost pleading. He doesn’t want to hear this.

Good.

"Every time I look in the mirror-” Quackity’s breath hitches, just for dramatic effect. “All I see is red. Crimson. I’m poisoned, Dream. Because that’s what this place does to people.” The fire is back, transforming him. Quackity doesn’t even try to control it this time.

“That’s what you do to people.” Ponk’s voice rings throughout the cell.

“You poison them.” Alyssa.

“You tear them down.” Fundy.

“You think you’re so powerful,” Punz.

“But in reality-” Skeppy.

“You’re. Just. A. Parasite.” Karl hisses at the god on the floor who bleeds red regret instead of ichor.

Quackity doesn’t know where the words are coming from, now.

(“This country- it’s like a parasite, Q!”)

His breaths come ragged. When the fire sweeps through him again, Quackity nearly burns away himself.

Sapnap’s voice is tired when he speaks with it.

“You were never the hero, Dream. Turns out, you were never even part of the story.”

And Dream is left a crumpled mess of grief and blood at his feet as the fire dies to ashes.

Quackity’s tired when he leaves the cell that evening. It’s the bone-deep exhaustion that comes from more than lack of sleep, and it drags at his limbs. Sam does not look at him, and Quackity wonders if he knows what horrors were used in that cell today. He somehow can’t bring himself to care.

It was cruel, he knows. He slipped into their skin and cut Dream to shreds with the broken glass at his fingertips, ripped open his soul instead of his flesh and took pleasure in just tearing something down. It was cruel, but so is (was) Dream, and so is the world he created. Everyone gets cut and everyone bleeds, and the only thing to do is hope that your weapon is sharper than theirs. He’s had that lesson seared into his mind and cut into his skin too many times. So today when Quackity leaves a trembling mess behind the wall of fire, he cannot see Sam’s eyes- but if he could, he thinks they would hold something like fear.

So he steps out into the night, and he smiles, sharp and painful as broken glass.

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

57. “Wait a second.. are you jealous?” + Poorly Timed Confession + modern au 😍 pretty please!!!

~Notes: OMFG angel!!! Thank you SO SO much for the prompt<3 You are a complete babe! I hope you like :S It’s cheese, but like also what else would I do? LMFAO XD

Smash Prompt Game | Send Me A Prompt💜 | A Reblog Is Like An I Love You!!

“Hmmm… All right, would you rather, mmm… Smell Borris Johnson’s sweaty gym socks, or snog Professor Slughorn full on the mouth for a straight minute— oh erm, not so straight I reckon on second thought.”

Remus wrinkles his nose at him from across the bed, and clucks his tongue at the awful pun. “You’re unruly.”

“And you’re dodging,”

“Am not arse, I’m just recovering from that very terrifying scenario you’ve spewed out like the sadistic satanist you are.”

“Which scenario are you recovering from though?” Sirius leers, wiggling his eyebrows and jostling Remus’s textbook with his foot.

“I hate that you’re enjoying this so much,” Remus intones in a deadpan.

“Mary John, I’m waiting,” Sirius says with far too much glee.

Sometimes Remus is sure that he hates him. “Fine, the answer is I hate you.”

“Filthy and slanderous lies, Lupin.”

“You’re demented.”

“Five. Four. Three—“

“I won’t choose.”

“See, all I hear is that you wanna get it on with our chemistry professor, you saucy minx, you.”

Remus sniffs. “Better than touching that prick with even a ten foot pole.”

“Mmmm, have I ever told you how hot and heavy I get hearing you talk politics at me?”

Remus throws him the bird, which makes Sirius laugh. Remus can objectively say that Sirius has the most beautiful variations of laughter in the world, and he’d know considering he’s catalogued each one. This version is definitely top three. His care free, effortless laugh when Remus takes him off guard with a snide remark or lowly muttered retort that’s not appropriate for most company— It’s really more of a experience, truly. His breaths stutter out in a lovely staccato, and his eyes glimmer like the sea, and sometimes it feels like the world’s been suspended and it’s only the two of them in that slice of eternity.

Erm, Ah, but yeah…. That only happens occasionally, and it’s only because Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend— has been since the final year of primary school after Remus had moved to the London outskirts from his small, coastal town in Wales, and on first sight, Sirius swung a snowball straight to Remus’s face, which he of course responded to by throwing two more his way, and well… The pair of them were soaking and breathless by the end of it, but their fate was sealed, they were the greatest of friends, and nothing would ever alter that unquestionable staple.

So what if sometimes Remus’s chest thuds painfully when Sirius dimples his way, or Remus only ever wants to talk to him over anyone else— even Lily or his Mam— if he’s had a bad day, or good one, or if something remarkable had happened, or , or… Or whenever really. And there’s absolutely no significance that Remus can’t help the totally delighted grin that splits his face in half whenever he gets a text or snap from Sirius.

None of that is at all relevant.

Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend, and he’d never risk ruining that by allowing some pesky little crush swallow him whole and clammer out his mouth— vulnerable and throbbing in the open space between them. It doesn’t matter if Marlene always makes kissy faces their way, or how James only ever refers to them as a couple, and so what if Peter’s got a pole running that Remus knows basically the whole school is betting on.

They’re all wrong, Sirius would never, ever feel the same sort of way that Remus does him, that’s downright preposterous and ridiculous and just simply impossible. And Remus’s perfectly content with that very real truth… He is.

Remus is fine with it God help him. So everyone else just needs to but the fuck out of their business.

Besides, this, this right now— Him and Sirius splayed out on opposite ends of Remus’s bed, with Sirius’s feet nudging at Remus’s elbow whenever he’s got a question about there homework, with the window cracked open just so, letting in some of the chilly winter air because Sirius absolutely can not focus if he’s not cold— the fucking furnace— Where Remus can still hear the going ons of his family playing out on the floor below them… This is the most perfect place in Remus’s eyes, and he won’t ever change that, especially not to live out some boyhood fantasy that would never come into fruition in his wildest of dreams.

Remus’s content… He is… He has to be or else he’d lose one of the most vital people in his world.

“You’ve got footie practice after school, right?”

“Mmhmm, you coming to watch?”

“Only if you admit i’m your good luck charm,” Remus sardonically bats his lashes at Sirius as if he was in a mascara advert, and the taller boy blows a raspberry right back at him.

“Nice, real nice. You’re extraordinarily mature, you know that, Black?”

“And sexy, don’t forget that, oh so important descriptor Lupin.”

Remus leans against the locker besides Sirius’s, watches as he trades his current binders for the lot he’ll need for the afternoon, and tries really hard not to stare too longingly at how Sirius’s arm muscles ripple beneath their school’s maroon, uniform jackets in the most delicious of ways. (He hates the fact he’s been dissolved into a starry eyed mess lusting over the star striker, but thus is his fate.)

“I’d never commit such a faux pas, and I’m insulted that you’d ever think as much.”

Sirius sneers at him with a slight shake to his head. “So you coming or not?”

“I’m still contemplating my options,” he preens, but before Sirius could retort, Marlene, megawatt smile and dangerously sharp smirk— swaggers over towards them.

“Good morning my two beautiful chums!”

“What do you want?” Sirius asks before even glancing her way, to which Marlene blinks up at him, faux owlish. “S, I just wanted to greet a couple of my closest companions this lovely December morning,” she defends herself.

“Marls, you’re never this agreeable before noon,” Remus points out hesitantly.

“ And you rarely are even afterwards,” Sirius tacks on.

“Rude,” she pouts.

“Accurate,” Remus pipes in with an apologetic grimace.

Marlene stares them both down for a solid minute before finally relaxing her shoulders, and thrusting out the legal pad in her grasp. “The student council and spirit society are selling corsages for the snowflake formal, and Dorcas has deployed me to get some orders.”

“Whipped,” Sirius teases through a counter-fit cough.

Marlene doesn’t hesitate before smashing the legal pad on his head. “And you traipsing around getting people to buy the tickets for the theatre department last semester even though Re was only playing Mercutio wasn’t you being wrapped around his littlest finger?”

Remus flushes, feeling an unnerving amount of bees stinging around his stomach, and is thankful when the conversation pauses after Sirius casts her a very heated V. “Sod off.”

“So are you guys gonna buy or not?” Marlene huffs, weight slung to her left hip, and arms crossed against her chest.

“I’m a gay bloke, Marls, did you forget that?” Remus pins her with a one eyed squint, and she just scrunches her face up at him, exasperated.

“I’m sure there’s matching boutonnieres.”

“Fine, I just don’t have any school spirit then.”

This time she glares. “Lily and James are Head Boy and Head Girl, isn’t there like an oath between you lot, one for all and all for one, or some rot?”

“That’s the three musketeers,” he says.

“isn’t that basically who you guys are?” She reasons.

Before their wage of words could continue, Sirius just grabs the order form out of Marlene’s hands and fills out a sheet with the flurry of his pen. “Happy?”

“Positively delighted,” she leers, pecking them both on the cheek before strutting off, reminding them of their group study session at Alice’s tonight in her wake.

Sirius shakes his head, reluctantly amused with a grin gathering on the corners of his mouth, but for Remus everything feels like it’s frozen. “You didn’t have to do that you know? ’S not like James is much of a Head Boy anyhow, and Lily wouldn’t have really cared.”

Sirius shrugs, commences their walk to the opposite wing of the school for their shared history class. “Emmy likes that sort of romantical shite.”

Remus sees red, feels his heart lodging in his damn esophagus. “Oh, so— Erm, you’re taking her then,” Remus wonders if his tone sounds as detached as he feels.

“Yeah,” Sirius eyes him, questioning. “She wants that title of snow queen real bad, made me promise I’d campaign with her and the whole shtick.”

“Oh,” it’s like Remus could feel it when he closes off completely, can feel his hopes squashed down and his heart contract and his every organ collapsing in on themselves, leaving him feeling hollowed out completely.

Sirius slows down marginally, eyeing him with a slight frown. “Is that all right? I know you two don’t exactly get along and we were planning to go as a group, bu—“

“It’s fine,” Remus hates how screechy his voice gets, how he feels like he’s about to scream. “You two are a shoe in, no doubt.”

Sirius tries to mirror Remus’s faux excitement with a tepid grin of his own, but Remus doesn’t let him, instead commandeering their typical table on the back row and tries focussing on the thousandth war with France while his world tilts off kilter.

Emmy is beautiful, and popular and her smile alone dazzles the whole room. She’s everything that Sirius should look for in a partner, someone to match his whip lash wit, and his taste for all things exuberant that skirt on flashy, and someone who’s got just as many friends and admirers as him.

They’re perfect and Remus should just get over his petty ass hatred of her, even if he still thinks she can be down right cruel and selective and selfish. Qualities Sirius surely isn’t… But maybe it’s all in his head how she sneers at people who she finds plane, or how she literally guffaws over the misfortune of others. Maybe his perception of how she wields people in like moths to a flame just to get what she wants is all a misunderstanding, or in his head or something.

Maybe all that’s possible, even if Remus seriously doubts it.

But at the end of the day, Sirius loves her— has been basically infatuated by Emmeline Vance since she first transferred at the start of their Freshman year. Sirius loves her, and who ever Sirius loves is merely an extension of him… Right?

Remus just needs to get over it and somehow rid himself of this crush he’s been fostering for so long it’s basically a part of him at this point. Though, he thinks it’d be a lot easier if he didn’t see their faces plastered on posters everywhere the week and a half leading up to the dance— looking like actual royals that would put Will and cate to shame.

“Yo cheekbones!”

Remus starts, swivels around from where he was scratching his pen to paper, finding Sirius— as glimmering and beautiful as always— swaggering up to him, insanely electric smile painted over his face.

“Would you rather eat a jumbo jar of jalapeños without a break, or eat the toenails from someone with athlete’s foot next to your dinner every night of the rest of your life?”

“I thought you were having lunch with Emmy to keep up your royalty status before this weekend?” Remus asks, tacitly side stepping from the horrific images swimming to the forefront of his mind because of his cruel question.

“Now that doesn’t sound like an answer to my ultimatum,” Sirius says in a singsong sort of voice.

“You answer me first,” Remus says airily.

“But I asked first,” Sirius argues haughtily.

“Well both your options would kill me, so I wouldn’t do either,” Remus retorts.

“That’s not how the game works!”

“You’re the one who always says that rules were made to be broken,” Remus says, lofty as all get out,, and dissolves into laughter at the completely cross look Sirius’s giving him.

“You were born to be contrary, weren’t you?”

“So lunch?”

“Got bored,” he shrugs, hopping onto the corner of the desk Remus’s working on. “What you up to instead of eating?”

“My position paper for Model UN.” Sirius smiles down at him, and Remus can’t help the flush that spreads across his cheeks in return. “Not as glamorous as running as Snow King, I know.”

“It’s precious,” Sirius contends, his soft timbre sounding like syrup and his long fingers fluttering against Remus’s skin, pushing back a lock of his ever disheveled, tawny curls in a far to gentle way, and Remus gulps before averting his gaze to break the sudden tautness that’s built between them.

They’ve had so many of these almost moments, ones that Remus’s always treasured but he knows doesn’t mean much of anything at all to Sirius— Sirius who is effortlessly hilarious, and brims with genius and who is so beautiful that sometimes it hurts looking at him for too long. Sirius who has a new suitor at his beck and call on a near weekly basis. But whenever they transpire now, it just hurts all the more because Remus knows in his heart of hearts that they will never lead anywhere, and Sirius is in love with Emmy and Remus can’t let himself float around in this daydream for any longer.

“Ahem,” he clears his throat, shuffles in his seat only slightly. “I’m Algeria so my Mam’s pretty excited about it. She’s been telling me all the stuff Wikipedia’s got wrong and everything.”

Sirius laughs, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Your mother is kinda everything, you know that?”

Remus twists his mouth up, reluctant. “Don’t tell her as much, or else she’ll go on and on how she won Miss Teen Great Britain when she was only sixteen.”

“Hmm, I was wondering where you got that pretty face.”

“You, Sirius Black, can go lick an unwashed arse.”

“You’ll never catch a suitor with that cheek of yours though. I’d work on that, Lupin.”

“I don’t think I could ever win Miss Congeniality, alas.” Remus doesn’t quite catch Sirius’s reply, to busy responding too the text his phone just chirped with instead.

“Mary John, are you listening?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sirius’s brows hike up, flabbergasted smile stretched across his face. “So totally rude! And I came all the way here— to the place where dreamers die— just to spend time with you.”

“Sorry,” Remus gives him an abashed little half grin before setting the phone back down. “’s just Fabian.”

Sirius’s expression drops, goes inquisitive instead of his typical ebullience. “Fabian? Why’s Fabian Prewett texting you, and why is he,” Sirius crooks his head so he’s able to read the new message that popped up on Remus’s phone’s screen. “Asking about color coordination?”

Remus blushes for an entirely new reason now, one he likes much less. “Ah, he’s the sort to like it when our suits like match, but not in an abrasive fashion, you know?”

Sirius’s face goes scarily blank.

“Your suits? Suits for what?”

“The dance…” Remus says slowly, he’s confused what Sirius’s confused about.

“The dance… Right… I thought you were still going with everyone else?”

“Pff, no way,” Remus scoffs. “Lily’s only pretending to be single, you know how red in the face she gets whenever around James. They’ll end up dancing the whole night away. And with Dorcas running the whole event and Benjy thinking any social function is a plague on society, that’d leave me stuck with Peter and Mary, . And honestly I’ve seen enough of her tongue shoved down his throat for a lifetime.” Remus is only slightly surprised that doesn’t even elicit a chuckle from Sirius, who’s now looking a bit stormy— and he thinks he’ll never be accustomed to his mercurial moods that can change as quickly as the snap of the finger.

“Right… So you’re going with Fabian Prewett… as your date?”

“Yes… Why is that so hard to believe?”

“it’s, it’s not,” Sirius scrambles, suddenly standing up.

“Then why are you being so weird about this,” Remus argues, getting up to meet him at his level.

“Am not!”

“You’re going with Emmy,” Remus reminds him, this edge of desperate.

“I know I am, okay. But you— you—“ Sirius tappers off, eyes glassy and lips parted with words he can’t get out, and Jesus fucking Christ is it weird how for the first time ever their roles have reversed. Sirius can’t put any sentences together, and everything Remus’s been beating down— everything thrashing inside of him— are now burning his throat and warring over who can spill out first.

“What? I’m suppose to stay behind like the pathetic, nobody friend. The guy who’s just there to moon after you while you have an actual life. The Judie garland to your Mickie Roomie!”

“What are you even talking about right now!” Sirius shouts, sounding as torn apart as Remus feels.

“As if you don’t know!” He snarls, collecting his books into his backpack— Suddenly this room feels to stifling. He can’t breathe and it’s too hot and his chest is pounding.

He’s imploding and Remus has no idea how to rectify it.

“Just stop! Remus Stop!”

“leave me the fuck alone Sirius!”

“Why are you being such a prick about this!”

And that, that makes Remus angry, angrier than he’s ever been.

Before he could even think about it for a moment longer, Remus is rounding on him, dashing so close to Sirius that he can taste his breath with how close their faces are skirting against each other.

“I’m in love with you! I’ve been in love with you for forever, and I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I know that you’re in love with Emmy and, and I just know okay.”

“Wha—“ Sirius sputters, looking like a gaping fish. “Wait a second, are you jealous? Of sodding Emmy Vance?”

“Don’t!” Remus practically growls out. "Don’t disrespect me, okay? Don’t pretend that you never knew, or that I was such a good actor. I’ve been in love with you for years and you always knew and Fine, I get it. You never felt the same way, that’s fine. But just don’t pretend as if you never had the choice, don’t make me out as the bad guy for actually, finally saying yes to a bloke who’s actually into me. I need to fucking give up on the premise of us, I need to get over you. So I’m going out with fucking Fabian Prewett and you’re going out with Emmy Vance and that’s that!”

His breaths are labored, jagged and painful, as they race out of him, but Remus can’t move. He’s staring straight into Sirius’s beautiful, gray eyes, and he sees everything he’s always seen there, and hates that this is probably the last time he’ll get to be this close to him.

Not after this.

“I didn’t,” is the first thing Sirius croaks out, broken and helpless. “i didn’t know, Remus you have to believe me— I didn’t—”

“How! How could you not know!” He shouts back, but Remus doesn’t get his answer in so many words, instead he feels it.

He feels it when Sirius clamps his hands on either end of his waste-line, feels it when Sirius smashes their lips together in a cacophony of lips, and teeth and spit. He feels it when Sirius moans in side of him, when his hand moves down, spreads across the width of the small of his back, pushing their torsos even closer. Remus feels it when everything goes into focus, when he takes Sirius into his arms, greedy and excited and disbelieving.

And Remus thinks to all the other times he’s kissed another boy— To this prior weekend swapping snogs with a beaming Fabian in the back of a theatre. He thinks of how there was never anything worth anything when he kissed any of them Because it was all Sirius, always Sirius. And he could try to love Fabian, or some other cute boy, and he tried, and he tried, and he tried, and he gave all he had…but it was never enough, could it ever be enough?

Remus knows it in his bones that it’s enough when it’s with Sirius.

When they finally pull apart it’s difficult to breathe and Remus feels lightheaded and it’s wonderful in the most marvelous of ways.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Sirius says in a whisper.

“Maybe next time give a guy some warning?” Remus can’t help the shit eating smirk that swipes across his mouth and is elated at the adorably cross scowl Sirius answers him with.

“Fine jackass, how’s this for a warning, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“That’ll be sufficient, I suppose,” Remus goads, laughing against Sirius’s lips when he does just that.

~*~

Sirius ends up winning snow king, but rejects the dance with Emmy, opts to ask Remus to join him instead, as if they were in the middle of some John Hughes movie from the fucking 80s.

It’s utterly ridiculous and overdone and simply way too much— but everyone applauded and cheered and when Sirius kissed him in the middle of it, Remus felt as if his whole body sung with joy.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #SPILT INK #PROMPTS #I love you endlessly #!!!!

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weirdthinkingdragon · 4 years

Text

Welcome To The Family (4/???)

1/ 2/ 3 here

Note- This festival is a different one than the festival arc. Sorry if the ending seems kinda sudden. Didn’t really know how to end it.

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

I’m unsure what time exactly they will be here. They probably should have told me that before, now that I think about it. Luckily, everyone is passed out by sunrise so that’s not an issue of them seeing who is in the vehicle. My issue is them possibly entering here, so I should probably wait outside.

On my way to get outside, I run into the mold-quirked male. He’s passed out on the floor in the hall. His really long, oddly-textured white hair sprawled everywhere around him. I’ve never touched it, but just by looking at it, the hair seems weird. It looks like what fuzzy mold possibly feels like if that makes sense. Makes me wonder if his hair IS mold. Gross, no thanks.

I wonder whether to wake him or let him sleep. I decided to just let him sleep and walk over his body.

Exiting the building, it was like there was never loud music blaring, or even a party. No mess anywhere. That must be how they get away with it.

I brought my money with me to play a few games, but nothing extreme. Of course, I should be safe around three heroes, but not taking any chances is still the better option than bringing all of it.

It only takes a few minutes for the familiar black car to pull up. Being texted they were on their way would have been nice, but beggars can’t be choosers. Hitoshi exits the car for me to get in.

I’m greeted by the very happy smile of Eri. That will never be a tiring sight to see. I buckle up and lean over since her arms are outstretched for a hug.

From the view of Aizawa in the front, he’s dressed decently today, and even his hair looks much tidier than I’ve ever seen it. The same for the first time he’s wearing something besides his hero outfit. No doubt Hizashi made him do it, or even more likely he did it for Aizawa himself. He still has that scarf though. I resist the urge to laugh at the thought of him unwillingly being tidied up by Hizashi.

In speaking of Hizashi, I’ve never seen his hair not standing up before. It’s a good look in the half-bun, but I wonder what it would look like fully down. Nope, don’t think too far into that. That’s kinda weird.

“Morning Y/N!” Hizashi exclaims.

“Morning guys! What’s planned first when we get there?”

“Eri wants to get a candy apple. She loves them after last time.”

I look at her. “Candy apples? Why did you never tell me? We could have made those at some point before.”

“It should be more of a treat than a daily thing,” Aizawa says.

“Says the one who pretty much lives off jelly pouches,” Hizashi informs.

“Like you’re much better with forgetting sometimes to eat at all.” Aizawa shoots back at him.

Jelly pouches? How in the world is he still in such great shape then? Obviously fighting and training often helps, but that sounds like multiple deficiencies just waiting to happen. Same with Hizashi. Jeez, these two seem rather irresponsible sometimes. At least they’re focused on their kids since I’ve never heard Eri telling me they forgot to feed her.

“You know how to make them?” Hitoshi asks.

I look at him and nod. “Yep. I helped a friend in the past who was in a candy apple tournament with their other friends. Whoever could make the coolest-looking ones wins. They sadly got second place, but to me, galaxy apples look a lot cooler than the tree candy apples that won. You couldn’t even bite the top of the silly things without breaking your teeth!”

Eri gasps and puts a hand on her mouth in the thought of breaking her teeth.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t make them even if I could.”

She nods relieved.

We get to the festival and Hizashi finds somewhere to park the car.

Walking around, I could swear we passed a few familiar faces to me. The games are rather interesting and pull me towards them, but we can go to them later since Eri wants a candy apple.

I notice Hizashi and Aizawa refraining from holding hands though they seem to want to. I try to come up with a reason for why that might be. Not very likely they’d be recognized by villains since they look like entirely different people. Hmm… Obviously, Hitoshi and Eri wouldn’t care.

The only other thing I can think of is their students. Of course, their students might be able to recognize them. Did they not tell their students they’re married or something? I know Midoriya wouldn’t care since I met him, but maybe there are a few in his class that wouldn’t be too open-minded about it? It’s not my place, whatever is the cause. I do feel a little bad though they can’t act normally.

Hizashi suddenly stops, making the rest of us stop, and pulls out his phone. He reads something with a frown forming on his face. He pockets it and looks at me. “Yo, Y/n? Could ya hang out with Hitoshi and Eri alone for a bit? Sho and I gotta go take care of something that came up.”

Hero work I’m guessing. Poor guys, they really can’t seem to catch a break. “Of course!”

They both then run back in the direction we came from. I look at Eri and Hitoshi. “Well, should we continue looking?”

Eri happily nods.

Hitoshi goes in front of me with Eri, probably leading the way since he seems to know where they are. I stay rather close behind them so no one gets between us and we lose each other from how crowded it seems to be in this area.

Over the music, I can swear I hear tiny explosions quickly getting louder, and maybe closer? Coming from behind me. I turn around to see people clearing from behind me to show an angry blond coming up incredibly quickly. Explosions crackling from his hands. His feral glaring face was enough to put so much fear in me that I freeze in my place. I clench my eyes closed and wait for an impact that no doubt is going to be painful.

“Kacchan, stop! They’re Eri’s babysitter!!!” A very familiar voice yells to the blond in front of me.

He stops with one of his hands millimeters from my face. I can hear the sizzling and feel the heat radiating off of it onto my face. I slowly open my eyes to meet his still-glaring ones.

… Isn’t he one of Aizawa’s and Hizashi’s students? I think he was one farther in the back frowning in the picture I saw on my first day.

In the blink of an eye, Hitoshi slightly pulls me back, and stands in front of me, preventing the blond from coming close again. Midoriya is running up to us as well. He tries to cheer me up by giving me a kind wave. It does little to help my still-panicked state.

Eri hugs me by my side in worry. I feel like fainting.

The blond becomes slightly less tense at realizing she’s hugging me.

“Hah? How the hell was I supposed to know with the way the damn extra was following so closely?”

“Uh… Kacchan, I don’t think Shinsou would be so open for attacks…”

The blond glares at him like Midoriya is the dumbest person on the planet. He refused to reply, and just storms off.

Midoriya looks at me and smiles sheepishly with one of his hands behind his head. “So sorry about that! Kacchan can be rather… headstrong when villains might be involved.”

I just shakily nod. “Uh… y-yeah, good first impression.”

Hitoshi’s face grows into one of great worry, and I think some anger. He puts one of his arms behind my back as a sort of comfort and support. Surprisingly, it helps a little bit.

“I think I need to sit down for a moment.”

“There should be some benches not too far from here,” Midoriya informs, and we get there after a bit. Miraculously, one of them was empty. I sit down with Hitoshi to the left of me. Eri sits on my right, clearly struggling in trying to figure out how to help.

Midoriya stands at my right, in front of Eri’s spot. He seems to be in thought for a moment. “Togata has a surprise the next time we come over. He found a new dress he wants you and Eri to judge.”

That sunshine adult makes me end up smiling slightly. Shinsou seems a bit annoyed at the mention of the kind blond. “Aw, that means Eri and I will have to make him another tiara so it will match his new dress.”

“I hope it’s poofy!” Eri chimes in.

I smile at her. “What color do you think it will be? Maybe it will be green! We should have one where we all wear green to match your tea set!”

Her eyes shine in excitement at the idea.

“I uh, I guess I have that covered,” Midoriya says.

“You know you don’t HAVE to wear a dress, right? I bet you’d look great in a green suit too! Ooh! You could be the beloved butler!”

“I think I’ll just stick with the dress I have… It was so awkward telling my mom about it back when I got it. I don’t know if I could ask her to buy something else too.”

Hitoshi gets a message on his phone and pulls it out. I’m too focused on Midoriya and Eri. Going on that idea of Togata helped calm me down greatly.

“That’s understandable. Suits can be rather expensive.”

“Midoriya?” Hitoshi suddenly pipes up.

“Yeah, Shinsou?”

“You might want to run. Ashido knows you’re here and wants to give you more dance lessons.”

His eyes widen fearfully, and he takes off while looking around.

“I didn’t get to hug him…” Eri says rather disappointedly.

“What’s wrong with dance lessons?” I question.

He has a rather large grin on his face. It kind of creeps me out a bit. How can someone be such a perfect combination of two adults that aren’t blood-related to them? “He usually doesn’t mind them, but recently they got struck with a personality-changing quirk. They became sterner than my dad.” It was easy to tell which dad he meant.

Just thinking of someone even more serious and stern than him is terrifying. I bet Aizawa isn’t too happy to be stuck dealing with that.

Hitoshi also seems rather relieved Midoriya has left. Wonder what’s up with that.

I look at Eri. “Well, why don’t we continue to find your candy apple now that things are a little more settled?”

She nods, and the three of us stand up.

It doesn’t take long to find them. They look rather unappealing compared to my friend’s homemade, but I’m not going to bring that up.

After Hitoshi gives it to her, she looks at it for a second, then looks at me. “What is your favorite jewel?” That’s an odd question out of nowhere. Then again, maybe the hard shell makes her think of rocks?

“Why do you want to know?”

She shrugs. “They’re so pretty. I like the red ones!”

Red like the candy apple? How cute. I tell her my favorite.

Hitoshi pulls out his phone and texts someone again. “Something is holding our parents up. It might be at least a few hours before they return.”

I feel rather bad for them for that. Being a hero is something I thank them for daily, but it must be so exhausting not being able to spend time with your family…

“Okay. What should we do then? I don’t think we should do any rides for now from Eri eating.”

Hitoshi shrugs. “The only thing we really can do is games unless there’s a different food you’re interested in getting here.”

I shake my head in reply.

Eri gently tugs at my clothes with her free hand. I look at her and she points at a prize in the shooting game. It’s a stuffed animal of my favorite creature. It’s also my favorite color, and even has a rather similar eye color to mine. Huh, what are the chances of that?

The game seems simple enough. Hitoshi notices what Eri is pointing at, and smirks at me. He crosses his arms. “Are you going to try first?”

I get the attention of the person behind the counter and pay, having them give me the corks. I load it and take another quick look at Hitoshi with a smirk myself. “Well, what does it look like? And I’m going to be the one that gets it for her!”

He teasingly huffs with a roll of his eyes. “Sure you will.”

I look back towards the prize and focus my aim.

… It misses. Not by much, but my aim is a little too high and too far to the right.

“You missed.” His tone isn’t condescending in any way.

“Yeah, yeah. I still have two tries.”

Looking again, I aim slightly down and more to the left.

… It missed again, but much closer this time. It’s the right height, but now I have it too far to the left.

“You missed, again.”

“Hush, you.” I don’t even have to look at him to know he has an enormous smirk forming on his face. I’ll show you!

I force my breathing to slow, focus a little longer, move just a tad to the right...

… Yes! I got it!

The person goes over and grabs it, giving it to me. I then give it to Eri which gives her an enormous smile on her face.

I give Hitoshi an “I-told-you-so” face.

“I would have gotten it on my first try.”

“Sure you would have.”

“Next time I’ll show you.”

“Mhm, whatever you say, Hitoshi.”

After that, we did a few more games and ended up going on a few of the rides. It was rather difficult due to Eri being too small for them. She was a little saddened by that, so I told her maybe she will be able to next year.

Hitoshi and I also ended up getting hungry at one point, so we bought some snacks. After taking a bite of what I bought, I look at the time. Surprisingly, about four hours have passed. I don’t think taking care of a villain should take this long, right? Maybe they got ambushed?

Don’t think about it. They’re pros. They should be able to handle anything.

In speaking of them, a message from Hizashi pops up on my phone. “Just about done here! Was a rather bad ambush, but we’re good! Gotta clear up a few more things, then we’ll be on our way!”

He put us in a group chat. Hitoshi is in it, and I’m guessing the other is Aizawa. He reads the message as well.

Eri is still playing around with her new stuffed animal.

“Should we do the same rides when your parents come?”

He shakes his head. “They will probably be rather tired when they return. Hizashi wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel with all of us more than anything.”

Why does that seem so accurate for him? “Really? The Ferris Wheel out of everything?”

He shrugs. “My other dad doesn’t really care. He’d rather sleep, but we all know Hizashi wouldn’t allow that.”

I laugh. “He seems like the type.”

A chill suddenly goes down my spine. Why do I feel like someone is watching us? Hitoshi notices my discomfort, and goes on alert, scanning the crowd around us. He doesn’t seem to see anything concerning. He pulls out his phone and quickly texts someone again, constantly glancing around.

“Don’t mean to be intrusive, but who are you texting?”

“My dads. I’m telling them to hurry up.”

Again, I feel bad for the two grown men. “It shouldn’t be too much of a problem. It’s probably just someone thinking they know me or something.”

He frowns. “Not taking any chances.”

I guess that makes sense. “If it’s such a problem, why don’t we find Midoriya to be with us again? I’m sure-”

“No.” He cuts me off. He was rather firm on saying it.

… No? I thought they were on good terms? “Are you two not on the best terms anymore or something? You don’t seem to want him around.”

“If there is someone watching, it would be better for a student in the top class to not be involved. It could make you a bigger target if your feeling of being watched is correct.”

Didn’t think of that. It still seems kind of like a ridiculous claim though. After all, Hizashi is a very well-known hero, so what difference would that make between Midoriya being with us or an adult?

I decided to just brush it off.

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

Whatever Hitoshi told them must have worked, since they arrived and found us at what must have been a record-breaking speed.

“Hey guys, you got here quick!”

“Well, we couldn’t let you three have all the fun now, could we?”

“Speak for yourself.” Aizawa tiredly mumbles. They’re wearing the same outfits they did earlier. I wonder if Hizashi was recognized during his fight. I have a feeling they keep their weapons in the trunk of their car just in case they get called.

I look at Eri and notice her yawn. I then look back up to Aizawa. “Looks like you’re not the only one that’s tired.”

He looks at her with the tiniest smile as she yawns again. “Fine. Just a few rides, then we go home.”

We end up on a few of the rides Eri can go on. I still don’t feel comfortable around Aizawa, so I try my best to sit with Hitoshi and Eri.

Hizashi keeps looking around as we go on a few of the rides. He tries to be more stealthy about it, but he’s failing at it greatly. Aizawa seems like he couldn’t care less. I should have just ignored it since now I feel like I’m ruining the rides for them for the imaginary odd feeling.

We decided the very last ride to be the Ferris Wheel. “You guys should go ahead. I’ll wait down here for you.” I inform them. Three out of the four of them look at me like I just grew another head. “What? It will be too tight a squeeze otherwise.” Hizashi just shakes his head and grabs me by one of my wrists to come with.

The feeling multiplied after he grabbed my wrist, making me forcefully stop and look behind me. He stops as well, looking in the same direction.

“That’s another thing! We can’t just leave you alone down here if someone’s watchin’ ya! C’mon!”

He drags me into the line for it with the others. Luckily, there wasn’t much of a wait. I can’t believe it’s sunset already. I also can’t believe I’m stuck going on it with them.

We all get into the cart, and I try to sit down with Eri and Hitoshi. Hizashi grabs my wrist again, having me sit between him and Aizawa. It’s a rather tight fit with my thighs and sides being pressed on theirs. This is rather uncomfortable, and definitely something I did NOT sign up for as a sitter…

At least the sight is beautiful to see with the sun shining brightly to the right side of us. Eri leans against Hitoshi and closes her eyes, hugging her new stuffed animal close. It stays quiet between all of us for a bit. Hizashi slips his arm behind my shoulders, making me tense. I decided he must be trying to give us a bit more room.

“Sorry for not bein’ around much today to hang out with. Tell ya what, why don’t you join us next Sunday for dinner as an apology?”

My eyes narrow in thought. “An apology for what? You guys couldn’t help it. It happens.”

He shakes his head. “Come on, we already cleared our schedules for it. It would be heartbreaking if you say no!”

“But I was planning on hanging out with my friends next Sunday… Why not the Sunday after that?”

“Just go with it. Having him change his mind is impossible.”

I mentally sigh. “Fine. But the Sunday after, I won’t be coming. I WILL spend my day with them then, so please don’t invite me into anything.”

I could swear Hizashi frowns disappointingly at the news, but his face becomes a smile before I can put much thought into it. “Great! Be sure to wear somethin’ at least a little fancy, okay? We’re going somewhere special! Oh! And we’ll pick ya up again!”

“Okay…” was my only reply.

#Yandere EraserMic household #x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere shinsou x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic

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purrincess-chat · 3 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH22

And we’re back! Chapters will resume posting on Fridays both here on tumblr and on AO3 (linked below). I hope you’re ready for the second half of this story. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that are different from last time, so I hope you all enjoy it!

Previous First Next AO3

Chapter 22: Mean

Marinette chewed her lip, picking at the hem of her shirt. She’d been too nervous to sleep, and the coffee she drank on the way to the hotel made her jittery. Clara and her manager flipped through her designs, the silence eating away at Marinette’s composure. Did Clara like them? Hate them? Had Marinette let her down? Why wasn’t she saying anything?

Clara glanced up at Marinette, a smile curling on her lips. She stood up with an amused giggle and took Marinette’s hands. “Oh, Marinette, you can chill. These designs really fit the bill. Choosing you was in good taste. Eloise, send these to my tailor, posthaste.” Clara winked, and Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. “Truly, great work, Marinette. I love them.”

“I’m glad. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” Marinette bowed.

“Although your formality is rather cutesy, there’s no need since you and I are friends, you see.” She spun Marinette around and pulled her in for a hug. “I felt a connection with you right away. If you ever need anything, you just have to say.”

Marinette’s chest swelled as Clara pulled away and brushed her nose with a finger.

“Eloise, write a check for her beautiful mind.” Clara ordered, pacing over to the piano. “I’ve got an idea for a new song that will be simply divine!”

Clara’s manager tore a check from her book and handed it to Marinette as Clara began to pluck at the piano. Marinette did a double-take to make sure the decimal was in the right place, but before she could protest, Clara’s security guard ushered her out.

“Goodbye, my dearest friend. I’ll miss you until we meet again!” Clara blew a kiss.

As the door closed behind her, Marinette glanced down at the check, heart pounding. Clara liked her designs! She considered Marinette a friend! Oh, she’d love to see the look on Lila’s face the day Clara walked the red carpet in Marinette’s dress.

“I’m so proud of you, Marinette!” Tikki said as Marinette tapped the button for the elevator. “You worked really hard, and it paid off.”

“I’m just happy that Clara liked my designs. It’s not about the money for me. I want to design clothes that make people feel good,” she said, stepping onto the elevator. “I can’t wait to tell everyone over tea this afternoon!”

“Will there be cookies at the tea party?” Tikki asked.

Marinette shot her a knowing smile and brushed her kwami’s nose with one finger. “Control that sweet tooth of yours.”

“I want to celebrate your accomplishments!” Tikki shot back indignantly. “If there happens to be cookies there, then so be it.”

“Tell you what,” Marinette said as the elevator dinged on the first floor. “I told everyone to come over at 2. Why don’t you and I celebrate now? Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Tikki perked up, ducking down into her purse. Marinette shut the clasp as she paced out the front doors of the hotel. Pulling out her phone to see where Andre was stationed today, she failed to look up as she rounded the corner and collided with another person.

“Sorry!” she gasped as they both stumbled backward, but upon seeing the face of her victim, her face hardened.

“Finally apologizing for trying to upstage me? It’s about time,” Lila said.

“I’m sorry for bumping into you. Nothing else.” Marinette rolled her eyes and stepped around her.

“So, you’re not sorry for abandoning all of your friends then? For turning your back on Alya?” Lila asked.

Marinette’s hands balled into fists, but she didn’t stop. “Alya made her choice.”

“And she chose me over you.” Lila smirked. “She even got us matching bff necklaces. She’s so sweet.”

“Congratulations. I’m sure your genuine friendship built on honesty and trust will last a lifetime.” Marinette retorted.

“I’m just glad she finally deleted her blog dedicated to that insect. She has so much more time on her hands to do all of my work,” Lila said. “You know, I’m class representative now since you deserted your post.”

Marinette bit her lip hard. Lila was taunting her, and she knew it. How could anyone be this vindictive? Marinette had always known Lila was evil, but she really had a way of one-upping herself. Marinette made a promise with Adrien to stay out of it, but no matter how far she ran, Lila was always right behind her.

Marinette spun around with a sharp retort on her tongue, but a silver limo pulling up to the curb cut her off. She half expected blond hair to pop out, but to her surprise, it was Martin who appeared.

“Hey, Marinette. I saw you walking, so I had my driver pull over.” He flicked his gaze between them. “Do you and your friend need a ride?”

“Ha! She and I will never be friends. I have much better taste,” Lila said.

Martin eyed Marinette, eyebrows knitting together when she shifted her weight.

“Then if you don’t mind, please leave her alone. She’s my friend,” he requested.

“You don’t want to be friends with a loser like her. I’m the great-granddaughter of world-famous piano player, Victor Laurent,” she said, fluffing her hair. Her sinister smile said that she’d taken all of Marinette’s friends once, and she’d do it again.

“Victor Laurent didn’t have any children. He died alone at the age of 72 from pneumonia…” Martin tilted his head to one side. “And anyway, Marinette’s great-uncle is a world-famous chef with his own brand of cookware—my mom loves his knives. Not to mention she knows Jagged Stone and is good friends with Adrien Agreste. She has a lot of connections.”

Marinette stifled a laugh as Lila gasped in offense. Martin blinked in confusion as Lila stalked off with a huff, glaring over her shoulder at them.

“Who was that girl?” he asked.

“One of the worst human beings you’ll ever meet,” Marinette replied. When Martin seemed confused, she added, “It’s a long story. I was actually on my way to get some ice cream. Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

Andre was in Marinette’s favorite spot in the Trocadero—a fitting compensation for the unpleasant encounter they’d just had. They found a bench, ice cream cones in hand, and Marinette flopped onto it with a sigh. Lila was insufferable, but Marinette wasn’t going to let it spoil her day. Clara liked her designs. Nothing else mattered.

“So, that’s the girl who turned all of your friends against you?” Martin asked, and Marinette nodded. “Wow. No wonder you changed schools. I would have changed cities.”

“I thought about it.” Marinette took a spoonful of ice cream. “She’s super manipulative, and if you side against her, she does everything in her power to ruin your life.”

“She sounds like Gabrielle just without the muscle, but at least we don’t have to put up with her now that her family’s bankrupt,” Martin said.

“Yeah…” Marinette lowered her gaze. “I bet you were really happy when you found out about Gabrielle.”

Martin shrugged. “I’m glad she doesn’t pick on everyone anymore, but I can’t imagine losing everything. I feel kinda bad for her… Is that weird?”

“I don’t think so,” Marinette said. “Actually, I feel the same way. No one deserves to go through that.” She pursed her lips, jabbing her ice cream with the spoon. “I’m surprised you of all people don’t hate her. She was the worst to you.”

“I try not to hate anyone,” Martin said around a bite. “I think everyone has good inside them deep down, and with the right influence, anyone can change if they want to.”

“So, you think Gabrielle could be a good person?” she asked.

“Well, sure. Why not?” Martin quirked a brow.

Marinette eyed him, a small smile curling on her lips. She sat up and turned to face him.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Uh, sure. What’s up?” he asked.

“It’s a long story, but Gabrielle and I are kind of friends now. I think…” Marinette admitted. “I haven’t told anyone because of everything, but I think you’re right. Anyone can be nice if they want to be, even Gabrielle.” When Martin seemed stunned, she curled her shoulders and added, “Do you hate me?”

Martin’s face softened, and he shook his head. “Of course not! I could never hate you.” He assured her. “I think it’s good. If anyone can help Gabrielle find the light inside of her, it’s you, Marinette.”

She leaned back on the bench with a smile, the spring sun warming her cheeks. Winter was over, leaving the cold and dreary behind. Nature was turning over new leaves. A fresh start, just like Marinette wanted. She took a deep breath, picturing all of the good things in her life. Adrien, Macy, Eliott, Martin, Gabrielle. Chloe, weirdly. Her parents, Tikki, Master Fu, Chat Noir, Clara. New opportunities. New beginnings.

She exhaled, letting all of the negative flow out with her breath. Lila had no power over her anymore, and after two months of running, Marinette was finally free.

♪♫♪ Cruel Summer ♪♫♪

Marinette hummed jovially, the heat from the tea kettle on the stove warming her arms. Her friends would be over soon to celebrate her presentation. After her run-in with Lila earlier, Martin dropped her off at home, where her dad made special macarons for their celebration. Talking to Martin eased her nerves, and Lila’s empty threats were far from her mind. Today she was celebrating.

It was the first time her new friends were coming to hang out at her house. After seeing all of their extravagant homes, Marinette might have felt self-conscious about her family’s tiny apartment, but her friends never gave her reason to worry. If only Adrien were joining them, but he was busy with a photoshoot. He promised to make it up to her, which had her head swimming with possibilities. Oh, she hoped whatever he had in mind involved kissing. Three almosts was driving her wild. Would she ever get to kiss those perfect lips?

And what were they now? Were they dating? Marinette didn’t know for sure, but they had to be pretty close, right? Adrien was so bold with her lately, complimenting her, touching her face, her hair, her hands… One of these days she’d snatch those lips down to hers if he didn’t kiss her soon. Kissing Adrien—the thought alone made her melt.

She wanted to hear his voice, but did she dare call him? He probably wouldn’t answer since he never brought his phone to photoshoots—always so professional. Then again, she could listen to his really cute voicemail… And she still hadn’t told him how her presentation went. Maybe she’d leave him a message. Girlfriends were allowed to do that, right? Oh god, Adrien’s girlfriend! She’d have to get used to calling herself that. Okay, no more stalling. New beginnings. Marinette wasn’t going to second-guess herself anymore. She was going to charge forward with confidence!

Pressing the call button, she chewed her lip with a giggle. This was really happening! One cute voicemail, then the next time they saw each other, she was going to kiss Adrien on the lips. Then they’d become boyfriend and girlfriend, date throughout the rest of collége and lycée, go off to university and get married, have 3 kids, and a hamster named-

Wait!

What was she going to say in the voicemail? She didn’t know how to be cute and flirty! Every time she tried, she ended up rambling about her toothbrush or falling down stairs. She needed to write a script. Abort! Abort!

“Missing me already?”

Marinette’s heart skipped at Adrien’s flirtatious lilt.

“Adrien! You answered,” she gasped.

“You called me, and you’re surprised I picked up?” he chuckled.

“Well, I thought you had a photoshoot, I was just going to leave a message,” Marinette said.

“I just got done with makeup, so I have a few minutes. I was actually thinking of calling you,” he said. “I’m sorry I can’t be there.”

“No worries. I understand.” She assured him.

“I take it your presentation went well?”

“Yeah! That’s what I was calling to tell you. Clara loved my designs! I’ve never been so happy.” Marinette paced the length of her living room, biting back a smile. “I ran into Lila as I was leaving, but not even she could ruin my mood.”

“Whoa, wait! You ran into Lila?” Adrien asked.

“Ugh, yeah, but it was fine. Martin swooped in before she got me too riled up. She even tried to lie him out of backing me up, but he totally called her out. I’ve never seen her pout so hard.” When Adrien remained quiet on the other end, she added, “I’m fine, really. I’m not going to let her bother me anymore. This thing with Clara could open up a lot of opportunities for me.”

“I guess you’re right. Lila only wishes she were half as talented as you. You’re amazing, Marinette,” Adrien said, bringing a familiar warmth to her cheeks. “They’re ready for me on set, so I have to go.”

Marinette tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, sorry for interrupting. I just wanted to tell you the good news, and…talk for a minute.”

“You can interrupt me anytime. I’m always happy to hear your voice,” he said. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” Marinette bit back a smile.

“Oh, and congratulations! You deserve it, Marinette.”

Marinette hung up with a dreamy sigh, hugging her phone to her chest. She was going to replay that conversation in her head for the rest of the evening. Before she could get lost in her lovestruck daydreams, the doorbell rang.

“Congratulations!” Macy hugged Marinette’s neck the moment she opened the door. “Oh, I knew she was going to love them!”

“Uh, I think you’re choking her.” Martin pointed out, and Macy let go.

“Sorry! But you did it! A major celebrity is going to wear your designs to an official awards show. That’s huge!” Macy squealed. “Oh! Is this your living room? It’s so cozy!”

As Macy pushed past Marinette into the apartment, Martin presented her with a bouquet of flowers.

“We picked these up for you on the way.”

“Thanks! That’s so sweet.” Marinette gestured him in, moving to find a vase in the kitchen. “Where’s Eliott?”

“He’ll be here soon. He was auditioning for another play today, so he’s running late,” Macy explained. “Your house is so cute! Did you make these pillows?”

“Uh, yeah. They were one of the first things I learned how to sew,” Marinette said, filling a vase in the sink. “My dad made macarons, and I’m making tea if you want any.”

Martin helped himself, taking a seat at the table, but Macy moved over to the bookcase to look at their family photos. Marinette set the vase in the middle of the table and grabbed the cups from the cupboard.

“Are you feeling better now?” Martin asked while she set the table. “I mean, after running into that girl earlier?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, surprised by how much she meant it. “I’m not worried about her anymore. I’m fine.”

Martin relaxed. “Good. You seem happier now than when you first came to school,” he said. “I could tell how sad you were, even when you were smiling.”

Marinette grabbed the kettle from the stove and pursed her lips.

“I guess I’m not as good at hiding as I thought.” She laughed bitterly. “It’s been hard, but I’m really lucky to have people that support me. I have you all to thank for that.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Martin smiled, an expression Marinette returned.

“Right.”

“Marinette? Is this you?” Macy held up a baby picture. “You were so cute!”

Marinette’s cheeks burned, but before she could snatch the photo away from her, the front door flew open. Eliott burst in, hair disheveled and eyes wide with panic.

“Eliott? What’s-” Macy started.

“I need help!”

#mdcspr #my writing

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yyxgin · 4 years

Text

LO-FI CHILDREN — YANG JEONGIN

pairing: childhood best friend! yang jeongin x fem! reader genre: coming of age (??), best friends to lovers au, kind of slow-burn, fluff, a tiny bit of angst word count: 9.5 k warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, a lot of internal angsty monologue

YOUNGBLOOD DRABBLES

synopsis: your last two weeks before the end of summer break bring you a new sense of anxiety as you fear losing everything you’re used to.

“THROUGH HEAVEN AND HIGH WATER.”

Light shade falls into the space of Jeongin’s room, the room you’ve spent most of your days in the past three years of high school, the room you’ve made most of your high school memories at, while you sigh heavily at the thought of leaving next week and not having the comfort of coming back to it every day after school. The room has memories everywhere you look - from the polaroids you cheesily gifted your friend on his last birthday in a cute shoe box, from which he took them out and stuck them to the wall beside his bed, as if he wanted the comfort of looking at them the last moment before going to sleep and the first moment of waking up in the morning - to the medals from useless school competitions on his bulletin board on the opposite wall, to which you accompanied him every single time. You mourn at the feeling of losing something, even though in reality, it’s not your best friend you’re losing. It’s the routine you’re going to miss.

“I’m gonna miss your room, Jeongin,” you snicker, seeing your best friend playfully glare at you with a pained look on his face he pulls out every time you tease him for something.

“Woah, one would think you’d miss me out of everything, but yeah, I get it, my room plays a much more important role in your life than my presence itself,” rolls his eyes the dimpled boy, causing you to snicker. Of course you’re going to miss him. You’re going to miss everything from his playful teasing to his caring nature he showed to you rarely, and when he did, it was disguised in a form of short glances and noisy questions.

“I just don’t like the idea of coming home from school and not having the comfort of your room right when I need it,” you giggle, shrugging. It was his presence in the room that you’re going to miss the most, though. But you weren’t cheesy like that to say it to his face out loud. Maybe if you didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be true. As if you didn’t want to admit it to the world. If you don’t say it, it doesn’t exist. That’s how it works, right?

“You’re going to have the comfort of your new college dorm room, and that is just as good. If not better,” grins Jeongin, and in a sense, he’s right. Your college is just what you’ve always dreamed of, from the literature major you’ve chosen long time ago to the way dorms just look way more comfortable than your own, small room at your house. You bet the college is filled with educated and smart people you’ve always wanted to accompany yourself with, from the cool hipster girls you’ve only read about in your young adult books to smart guys with cute rounded glasses and alternative rock music playing in their headphones. It’s everything you dreamed of and more. And you got in. That’s the path you’ve chosen for yourself in your life. You think you made the right decision. It definitely feels right to you.

The only thing that feels wrong is that Jeongin is no longer going to be by your side every day of your boring life. Yang Jeongin has always been there for you. Every single day of your high school experience, every single day of your growing up. He was there when you got your first goldfish and he was there when you had to flush it down the toilet after forgetting to feed it for a few days. He was there when you cried on pepero day, because your poor self got no snacks when you were ten, making him share his sweets with you and tickling you until you cried of laughter, because that was his only way of cheering you up at that time. He watched you grow. And you watched him grow. You were like two trees in a garden, roots intertwined, because they grew at the same place. You shared your childhood with him. But now, the branches of each of your trees were growing apart, and you didn’t like the fact that you’re no longer going to grow side by side.

“But you’re not going to be in my college room, Jeong,” you snicker casually, as if to not show your vulnerable side to him now, when the reality is closer than ever and the day of your departure feels the realest it ever did.

“At least I won’t be there to annoy you anymore,” he grins, but there’s something behind his words and not so sparkly eyes that you understand all too very well. He doesn’t want to say goodbye. And neither do you. You both know the day will once come that you have to say the hurtful words, but the day was not today. So you’ll both just act like you don’t think about it every second of your miserable summer days, until the day comes and you can finally let it all out.

“I like your annoying, though,” you smirk, already missing the way he would always tease you about your good grades or when you foolishly got pouty over the smallest things, “life is boring without all your drama.”

“It’s not drama, excuse me? We have Hyunjin for that,” he giggles at the thought of his older friend who graduated just a year ago. You haven’t seen him in a while either. The fact that all your older friends left the town for college and came back only for holidays made you sick to your stomach, because that’s what you’re going to do now. With no contact with your small hometown and your childhood friends, with no contact with your family other than video calls and visiting them on their birthdays. What if the unbreakable bond you had with them breaks? What if you no longer feel like you belong to the small town when you come back one day? You feel like that would crush you the most. Not feeling like at home anymore.

“Whatever you say, Jeongin,” you mumble, coming closer to him and throwing yourself at his body laying on the bed. It’s nothing unusual for the two of you, considering you were called the biggest cuddlebug right after your friend Felix, but something about the gesture feels like you’re hugging him one of the last times in a long time. But this isn’t your last opportunity, so why does it feel like one?

His arms automatically hold you around the waist, your nose nuzzling into his neck. The smell of your best friend is all too familiar to you, and the softness of his bedsheets feels like coming home. You wonder if you’ll be able to get that feeling in your new dorm room, telling yourself that you’ll probably have to wash your sheets with the same fabric softener to feel like that again. You feel his heartbeat under you, your heart swelling at the giggle that escapes his lips when you shuffle a little on top of him to get yourself to a more comfortable position. Your head ends up at his chest, legs intertwined like the roots of the trees in his backyard, rosy cheeks reminding you of the heat of the summer that’s currently creeping on you outside of the house. It reminds you of the last week of summer. The last week you have with your best friend by your side.

“Why couldn’t you just choose the same college as me?” you ask, lips pouty. You know it’s a selfish question. You know Jeongin could probably ask you the same, but he wouldn’t. Because it seems he is much more accepting of the situation than you are. Jeongin has always been the more reasonable between the two of you.

“Because I don’t like literature.” he laughs under you, making your whole body shake with the impact.

“And? There are plenty of majors to choose from, at least we’d still be studying in the same building.” you mumble. You silently curse at yourself for sounding so needy and desperate. But the truth is, Jeongin is the only thing you are sure of in your life. And you aren’t ready for the feeling of security to go away.

“But there’s no acting major there.” he says, smoothing your back to relax your tense muscles. Does he realise how hard it is for you? Probably yes. He knows you like the back of his hand.

You bite on the chapped skin of your lips for a while, sighing. “I know. Sorry,” you say, voice low and defeated, “I shouldn’t be acting like this. It’s just…” you mumble, not being able to say it. You can’t say you’re going to miss him, because that would make it true.

“I know,” he sighs, poking your sides a little with his pointer finger, tickling you, reminding you of the way he used to do it when you were nine and he didn’t know how to talk about feelings yet, cutting off your sentence with an unspoken sense of understatement, “but the fact that we’re going to different college doesn’t change anything in our friendship, you know that, right?”

“Of course,” you hurriedly nod, looking into his eyes with sincerity, “I know. You can’t just earease our whole childhood with one stupid college.”

“Right,” he giggles, lightening up at the sight of your smile. It does look a little sad, but it’s enough for him. It’s the sign that you’re at least trying to look at it from the brighter side. “I’m always going to be the one to annoy you.”

“Right.” you nod, grinning, “nobody will ever take your place.”

“Nobody on this whole entire world,” he smirks, “not even a lanky indie boy with a book in his hand you dream of so bad, right?”

You laugh at his remark, shaking your head. “Not a chance.”

“Tell me, why exactly do you choose to water your plants at night?” giggles Jeongin at your figure pacing around your tiny room with a glass of water in your hand, because you didn’t manage to buy yourself a proper watering can in the long five years of owning the beautiful greenery. You turned to taking care of plants and flowers after the disaster that was your first and only goldfish, because it seemed like much less work than to look after an animal, but you always forgot to water your plants when you were supposed to and only came to think of it at late nights full of overthinking, when your legs hurriedly shot up and you turned to water the poor creatures so you wouldn’t forget about it in the morning.

“They like it that way,” you say instead, grinning at your stupid excuse, “and be quiet, my parents are already sleeping and I don’t need my mum to come here and shout at me again like the last time.”

This was probably your last sleepover of this year. You had sleepovers at each other’s places quite often, but you chose your room as the destination 9 out of 10 times, because Jeongin had siblings and it was easier to have some privacy at your house, considering you were an only child.

“Right, right,” he whisper-shouts and puts a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to muffle his giggling. The memory of your mother with baby pink hair-curlers comes into your mind, the image of her shouting at the two of you to shut up because she has to go to work the next morning appearing much more funnier in the late hours of night than it originally was. She told you you two weren’t allowed to have any more sleepovers that night, but you both knew that was just a meaningless threat just so you two would be quiet already, because truth be told, sometimes you felt like she liked your best friend more than she liked her own daughter.

“So,” you shigh out as you plop to the bed next to him, the two of you passing the stage of one of you sleeping in a sleeping bag at the floor long, long time ago, “what were we talking about?”

“Oh, that,” he lights up at the mention of the previous topic of your conversation, sitting up so he is now resting his back against the wall next to your bed, glancing at your figure lazily lying next to him, “my parents are going away on the last saturday of the summer. And they're taking my siblings with them.”

You sigh again, knowing damn well where the conversation is going already. “And?”

“And the two of us are leaving on sunday. So that means…” he trails off, wanting you to finish his sentence like you always used to with his stupid ideas.

“That means…?” you act stupid, not really fond of his idea this time.

“That means I can throw my last high school house party!” he cheers, hands up in the air in a winning gesture, making you roll your eyes at him.

“You mean your first and last high school house party?”

“Exactly,” he nods with a big grin on his face, the proudness of finally being able to do that overflowing on his features, but it disappears soon as he notices you don’t mirror his happy expression and look uninterested instead.

“Hey, why aren’t you excited?” he asks, brows furrowed.

“It’s a stupid idea,” you shrug, simply looking away from your best friend gazing at you from under his long eyelashes, looking around your room instead, as if you didn’t know every single centimeter of it by heart already.

“Why do you think so? It’s not. And it’s also the last time I can invite all of our friends to hang out before they leave for college as well,” he says, thinking of all of your older friends that left for college before you and whom you dearly missed every single day of high school, because it wasn’t the same without your big group.

The 9-member friend group started slowly getting smaller and smaller once Chan and Minho graduated. Changbin graduated a year after that, leaving you with a 6-member friend group, which was still bearable and your table was still the loudest one at lunch, but after Felix, Seungmin, Hyunjin and Jisung graduated, the school halls became empty with only the two of you - the youngest ones of the group, remaining in high school. At least you still had each other. You really don’t know what you’d do without Jeongin by your side.

“Your mum would be mad if she found out,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes.

“And? She can’t stay mad at me for long when I’m leaving on sunday, she’ll get over it.” he shrugs, “come on, Y/N, I’m only gonna invite the nine of us, if it bothers you so much.”

“I just… I don’t know,” you sigh, finally meeting his eyes, “I don’t feel like throwing a party.”

“Stop being so melodramatic already,” teases you Jeongin, but you see something behind his eyes shift at your saddened expression. Is it really that hard for you? He hoped a party would surely cheer you up and make you forget about having to leave at least for one evening. He would be fine without a party, for sure, but he thought seeing your friends one last time would be good for you. He teases you, but you know what he means by his words. He wants you to stop being melodramatic, because he wants you to be happy. You’re not a bother to him when you’re sad, he just likes your smile much better than your frown. Because your smile, at least, doesn’t break his heart.

“Fine,” you sigh out after a while spent by a staring contest with your best friend trying to cheer you up by putting on silly expressions, “but only if you invite the 9 of us only.”

“Of course,” he nods with a grin, finally settling next to you on your bed and hugging you around the waist so you can cuddle up to him safely. He was rarely the one to initiate the cuddling between the two of you, but recently, he knows you need his cuddles more and more. Perhaps he feels like he’ll miss them too.

You huff out when he lands next to you, securing your hands around his on your waist, looking up to the ceiling. You’re not so fond of the idea of a party. Sure, it would be great to meet all your friends before leaving to all go your own ways a day later, but the idea of spending time with someone just to lose them the next week, in a way, makes you feel kind of sad.

You also wish you could just spend your last days with Jeongin. You’re acting like a clingy girlfriend, and you’re very much aware of that, but you can’t help it. You’ve spent all your days with Jeongin and nobody else last year. You share a special bond with him. You feel like once he’s not only one call or a 10 minute walk to his house away, something will be missing inside of you. It’s silly.

But can anyone really blame you?

“I wanna do something spontaneous before the summer ends,” you mourn out, sitting at the front porch of Jeongin’s house, the darkness of the summer night enveloping you like a warm blanket. You were supposed to be home a long time ago, but you guess your mother doesn’t really care where you are as long as she knows you’re with Jeongin. That, and you also heard her calling Jeongin’s mum a little while ago when you didn’t arrive home before your curfew, being notified by Mrs Yang that you may be staying over tonight. Actually, you had no idea if you’re staying over. You had no idea where this night was taking you. You just knew you felt empty, you felt bored. As if the summer was wasted.

“Like what?” asks Jeongin, kicking a rock under his black shoe, watching it bounce away from the front porch, glancing up at you right after.

“I don’t know. Like… dye my hair blue or something,” you laugh out, looking at him, “I just wanna do something, you know?” you snicker.

“Let’s do it, then,” he grins at you, standing up from his position next to you on the stairs and reaching out a hand for you to take.

“Let’s do what?”

“Let’s dye your hair blue,” he shrugs, looking at you with sparkling eyes, the lampposts behind his head making him look as if he had a halo around his head.

“Oh hell no, that was a joke,” you laugh out, shaking your head in disapproval.

“Yeah, and the mourning about wanting blue hair for the past two months was a joke as well, right?” grins Jeongin, still standing at his place with an out-stretched hand to you, “let’s go!”

“Let’s go where? We don’t even have dye and I can’t dye my hair on my own, and I’m enrolling in college on monday, I can’t show up with a blue head!” you mourn out, but giggle nonetheless, finding the idea amusing in a way.

“That’s not a problem, we can get that box dye in the convenience store. And I bet all the tall lanky literature major boys will fall on their asses when they see a cute girl with blue hair on their first day of college,” says Jeongin and forcefully makes you stand up on your own two feet, taking you by surprise by his compliment.

“Yeah, watch me fuck it all up and look like a sad blueberry on my first day of college,” you giggle, but follow his steps that are most likely heading to the convenience store.

“I will do it for you, you know I’m an expert at hair dye,” laughs out Jeongin, making you crack up at his comment.

“Jeong, bleaching your head once in eighth grade doesn’t count for being an expert at hair dye and you know that.” you roll your eyes, but still follow his footsteps with your hand in his, swinging your hands forward and backward like little children on a playground play-dating for the first time.

“As far as I’m concerned, it surely does.”

“It didn’t even look good in the first place, how am I supposed to trust you with my hair?” you laugh, seeing his playfully hurt expression accompanied by a dramatic gasp worth of Hwang Hyunjin himself.

“You told me it looked good back then!” he pouts.

“And I lied.” you shrug, “things like that happen.”

“This is such a bad idea, Jeongin, I will throw up, I swear to god-”

“Oh my god, chill, woman, it’s going perfectly fine!” giggles Jeongin and shows the glass of cheap wine you bought along-side with your box dye in the convenience store almost half an hour ago to your face with his hand dirty from the blue dye.

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.” you roll your eyes and drink the bitter liquid nonetheless, thinking that if it’s going to turn out horribly, at least you won’t register it at first if you’re drunk enough to not notice it.

“I’m not drunk,” giggles Jeongin as he smears another blob of hair dye onto the roots of your hair, “just a little tipsy.”

“Oh no,” you laugh out, knowing damn well Jeongin’s ‘just a little tipsy’ means ‘I can hardly know which one is you because I am seeing you twice’.

You two are currently sitting in his bathroom, you with your back turned to the mirror so you don’t have to see the disaster that is currently happening on your head, much better to Jeongin, because the light shines from that side and he can see what he’s doing better this way. It’s 2 in the morning and the cheap wine is starting to taste better after every gulp and truth be told, neither of you drink much and you only decided to do so tonight, because Jeongin kept whining about how he hasn’t used his ID to buy alcohol yet and he is now legally allowed to do so. You bought cheap wine, but forgot to buy plastic gloves, though. At least your hair isn’t going to be the only blue mess left when you wake up in the morning and Jeongin will pay for your spontaneous idea as well. With his stained hands, and his stained t-shirt too.

“Stop moving around, you’re making it difficult,” laughs Jeongin, praying in his head his mother doesn’t wake up and chime in to the bathroom to see the disaster happening, because even though he is a legal adult, he is one hudred percent sure she’ll confusticate his cheap wine and wash off your blue hair dye before it even has the chance to work.

“Are you sure it’s me moving or is it your head that’s spinning?” you giggle, finishing the glass of wine and putting it on the floor while your best friend’s hands are still in your head, your movement causing him to spread some hair dye all over your forehead. “Oh my god it’s in my eyes!” you laugh out, quickly shutting them so they won’t burn.

“No it’s not, you stupid, you just have it all over your forehead,” he grins and continues working, threading his fingers through your locks, your body leaning forward to the head of the chair he stole from the kitchen, relaxing.

“That feels good,” you mumble, noticing the way your sentence might sound a little weird in his ears and feeling your cheeks burn up instantly. You really do sound stupid sometimes, don’t you?

“What does?” he furrows his brows at you, clueless.

“You playing with my hair,” you confess, laughing a little to ease the tension you feel.

“Oh, does it?” he smirks, scratching a little at your scalp, earning a little whine from your lips that makes him giggle. “And we’re done!” he smiles as he stops, taking a step back to admire your blue, messily covered head.

“And now we wait,” you giggle, hearing him washing his hands in the sink, even though it doesn’t help him drown out the blue that is now on his hands for the time being.

“Look, we’re in this together,” he giggles, showing you his stained hands as he puts a plastic bag over your hair to make the dye work better, stopping in front of you and gazing into your eyes with his, slightly hazy ones due to the wine you both drank.

You snort at his comment, but continue to stare into his eyes. You notice how they sparkle, even though it may be due to the alcohol, but it still makes your heart flutter with the image of them that just seem so love-struck at the moment. Something inside of you wished he would look at you like that all the time. Like you held the world in your hands. Like you were the most important thing in his universe.

He breaks away the gaze just to poke your cheeks and get out a little laugh, turning away and taking a seat on the hard floor, against the bathtub, with his phone in his hands.

“I’m gonna set the timer so we don’t forget about that,” he informs you, seeing you nod.

“I doubt we’d forget though, I mean, I have a ridiculous amount of box dye on my head and it burns a little, so…”

“We had two glasses of wine, Y/N, everything’s possible at this point.” he snorts, finally looking back at you after setting his phone on the floor next to him, shooting you the look of admiration you experienced a minute ago once again, making you shy away from his eyes.

A comfortable silence overtakes the room, making you wonder how you even ended up in this position. The feeling of wanting to do something exciting overtook all your senses. It wasn’t like you to do such spontaneous things. Perhaps something inside of you just wanted to see how change feels for the first time. Perhaps your mind wanted to get used to the feeling of something new first, before having to experience the biggest change on monday.

This change felt good. Kind of exciting. But you’re not quite sure how leaving and changing the place you call home will feel next week. You bet it wouldn’t feel the same.

“Thank you, Jeongin,” you mumble after a while, locking eyes with the black-haired boy sitting on the floor.

“For what? For ruining your hair?” he giggles, his dimples on full display.

“No,” you roll your eyes, suddenly feeling sentimental, “for being my friend, you know? I know I’ve been a little annoying these past days, but I am just scared to leave, that’s all.”

You see him nod at you, smiling to himself. “I know. It’s okay,” he says, “but you don’t have to be scared. You’ll do great. I mean, you were the top student of our class. And you’re like, really smart, you know. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

You hum in response, nodding at his comment. He was right. But that wasn’t exactly the reasoning behind your silent worries. It wasn’t about your grades dropping or about you not being good enough. Truth be told, you never even thought about that. There was a deeper sense to your worries, but at the same time, they felt more silly than the ones Jeongin thinks live inside that head of yours.

You’re scared to leave your town. Your family. What if you don’t find any friends in your new college? What if you’re left alone? Alone turns to lonely really quickly, and there's nothing in this world you fear more than loneliness.

For the past year, you had no one else but Jeongin. With all your friends away, it was easy to get lonely. But Jeongin was always by your side. He never even gave you a chance to feel that way. Not once did you have a noisy thought in your brain that would make you feel like you have to be scared of being alone this past year.

But without Jeongin by your side, you’re sure you’ll feel it. The loneliness. You’ll feel lonely without his constant teasing. Without his honest eyes, without his bright smile. You’ll miss your best friend so much that it hurts you already.

What if he forgets all about you? What if you’ll grow apart completely? What if the branches of your trees won’t touch anymore, what if the bond you have will break? What will you do without his calls? Without his presence in your life?

You worry about that the most. Losing him to the distance. But you’ll never say it out loud to him. Not when the end is near.

And so you just smile and nod, humming in response. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

And with that, the alarm on his phone rings, signaling for you to wash the hair dye off, praying it doesn’t look like such a disaster as you feel like it’s going to.

“Mum can you please stop yelling? My head hurts,” you grunt while you sit at the kitchen table, putting your head into your hands and wiping them at your face.

“What did you think? Dying your hair blue a few days before enrolling in college?” she screams, making you rest against the chair and roll your eyes.

After rinsing off the blue hair dye at night, you fell asleep in Jeongin’s bed without even blow drying it, effectively staining his pillowcase as well, forgetting about the wine bottle in his bathroom and about your mother all together. Jeongin’s mum woke you up in the morning with the empty bottle in her hands and a questioning look on her face, telling you to run home, because your mother is causing a scene and she’s tired of listening to her screaming on her phone. Your and Jeongin’s mums were best friends, so you know she doesn’t exactly mean it, but you ran home with a sigh nonetheless without even looking at yourself in the mirror beforehand, preparing yourself for the screaming you’re gonna hear at home.

“I just wanted to have a little fun, that’s all!” you mourn out, looking at her with half-closed eyes, seeing her pacing around the kitchen.

“So you got drunk with Jeongin after you didn’t respond to my calls for the whole evening?!” she scolds you, seeing you sigh.

“I heard you calling Mrs Yang, I know you knew I was there,” you say, tying a strand of your freshly dyed blue hair around your finger and glancing at it. It didn’t look that bad, but you haven’t seen yourself in full display yet, so you can’t really tell if your best friend did a good job yesterday.

“And you’re just gonna glaze over the fact that you got drunk?” she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Mum, I’m literally 19, what do you expect me to say?” you burst out, glaring at her with sharp eyes. You really had no idea where she was coming from with this whole discussion.

She gazes at you for a while before sighing at taking a seat next to you, relaxing her tense muscles. “You’re right. You’re totally right, I’m just over-reacting,” she says, hands clasped on the table, “it’s just… You’re growing up so quickly and I’m not- I guess I’m not ready for you to leave quite yet.” she confesses, looking at you with sad eyes.

Your whole life, you haven’t left home for more than a week. You only did so one time when you went on a field trip with your school and even then, you missed your mother a little. The truth is that after Jeongin, it felt like she was your best friend. It sounds lame, but it is true. The almost idyllic relationship you share with your mother has always made you feel safe and loved. It’s going to be hard for you to not have your mother there to wake you up in case you slept in in the morning, or when you felt sad and wanted to mourn over a cup of hot chocolate in the evening while watching a soap opera.

You never realised your mother could miss you so much. I guess you were just so self-indulgent in your own pity you never realised other people could be scared of the change as well.

“I’m not either, mum,” you snicker, taking her hands into yours, “but there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“I know, I know,” she nods, gazing into your eyes, “but it’s going to be empty here without you. I won’t have my soap opera partner here anymore.”

“We can watch soap operas together when I come home over holidays, don’t worry,” you smile at her, seeing her relax a little.

“You bet I’m going to annoy you and call you every evening just to make sure you’re okay,” she laughs at your face full of misery, enjoying the teasing.

“Please don’t, the college kids will think I’m not cool if you do,” you mourn, but on the inside, you’re screaming ‘please do’, because if you’re alone on the cold nights in your new dorm room, at least you know you always have your mother to lean on.

“Oh please, with that hair? Everyone will think you’re the coolest girl around,” she grins, pointing at the blue color of your hair, making you snort out in surprise.

“Does it really look cool?” you ask her, beaming with joy.

“As your mother, I’m legally not allowed to say that, but it doesn’t look twice bad, you know,” she says, making you jump out and move to the mirror on the wall in your hall, admiring your new image and admitting that your mother was, indeed, right, and you don’t really regret your spontaneous idea that sparked inside of your head yesterday.

“I’m surprised it’s not blotchy, considering you were drunk when you did that,” smirks your mum from behind you.

“Oh, Jeongin did that,” you point out nonchalantly, “and we weren’t that drunk yet, we finished the bottle after rinsing this off.” you giggle.

“Jeongin did?” she gasps in surprise, laughing.

“Yeah,” you shrug, “the wine was his idea as well, by the way, so if you wanna be mad at someone, it’s not me.”

Your mum shakes her head in amusement, laughing a little at you. Her little girl is growing up so well, she thinks. She looks at you as if she knew something you didn’t, making you quirk up your brow at her questioningly, but she just shrugs it off.

“Go and eat some breakfast, sunshine, you must be hungry,” she just says, making you grin.

“Okay,” you nod, moving back to your spacious kitchen, turning around in the doorway once more and shooting a teasing question to your mother, “does that mean I’m not grounded or anything? Because I have a party to attend this saturday.” you laugh.

“I’ll think about it, young lady.”

“Remind me again, why are you packing your things on a friday night? We could have been doing much more fun things than that,” mourns Jeongin as he watches you rummaging through your closet, picking up the things you’re going to take with you to a whole new, different city across the whole country.

“Because I have to leave at noon on sunday,” you huff out, “and you chose to have a party on saturday. And tell me, what other exciting fun things could we be doing right now?” you glare at him from across the room.

“I don’t know, like… watching anime?” he giggles, making you roll your eyes with a small smile of amusement.

“Yeah, right. Anime won’t pack my bags, though, so if you don’t wanna help, at least stop whining for a while.” you mumble, packing your shirts, throwing them into your carrier.

Jeongin rolls his eyes at you, but moves closer to your closet nonetheless, eyeing the mass of clothing inside, silently judging you for owning so much, even though you wear the same three shirts every week. His eyes stop at your hands, seeing something suspicious in them, eyebrows shooting up in question.

“Is that my shirt?” he laughs.

“No…” you mumble, feeling red in your cheeks, stuffing the white fabric into your bag, desperately trying to hide it from his eyes so he won’t tease you about it.

“I’m pretty sure it is.” he grins, catching the blush creeping onto your face. What was making you so flustered? It’s not like you haven’t worn his clothes before. He shares his shirts with you all the time when you sleep over.

“And what if it is? Once it spends more time in my closet than in yours, it’s automatically my shirt, you know.” you explain matter-of-factly, looking him in the eyes, finding a playful spark in them that is ever so present and familiar to you every time he teases you about something.

“Right, right,” he nods, leaning on the wall of your closet, “is there any reason why you’re packing that shirt with you for college?” he asks.

“No reason, I just like that shirt,” you nod, not once meeting his eye, because you’re sure you’d be a blushing mess if you did, desperately wanting him to change the topic and leave you and his shirt alone. It was embarrassing enough for you to keep it for that long, not even talking about you packing it with yourself for college. You never even wore it in the first place. Or Jeongin hasn’t seen you in it before, that is. He must have left the shirt there at one of his sleepovers accidentally, not caring about it enough to remember he lost it.

And the truth is, you never wore it. You just kept it because it smelled like your best friend.

Your mother definitely wasn’t so thrilled when you shouted at her in panic when she almost threw it into the wash one day, but she was understanding of your little secret. Your mother knew more about you than you ever did anyway.

“Is that so?” he asks, quirking up an eyebrow, sending shivers down your spine. You usually didn’t mind his teasing this much.

“Yeah.” you nod again, voice low and shy. There was a sense of unspoken words behind the simple response, but you had no courage in giving those words a name or a particular feeling yet. All you knew was that if you ever miss your best friend as deeply as you can only imagine you will, you hope the smell of his shirt will keep you company.

And as if your best friend knew, he doesn’t tease you any further. He just stands closer to you, hugging you around your waist from behind and playfully nudging your sides.

“Okay.” he says, voice barely louder than a whisper, his arms feeling like a home you’re soon going to lose.

The stairs of your best friend’s front porch are a familiar place to you. You know every lamppost in your vision, you know every noise around. You recognise every neighbourhood dog just by the sound of its bark. The chilly air or the summer night makes you shiver, a feeling of nostalgia overtaking your senses as you hear the background noise of the eight people inside, cursing at yourself for not being there with them to spend your last evening in your hometown with your closest friends.

It feels heavy, though. Listening to their laughter, knowing it’s going to be the last time you’re going to hear it in a while. Seeing them smile when you know that tomorrow, you’ll be so far away from each other. And it hurts to say goodbye.

You don’t feel like seeing Minho grin at you across the room when you know he won’t be there to tease you about being nervous from your first day of college on monday morning. You don’t feel like listening to Changbin’s stories when you know you won’t be there with him to make some new ones. You don’t feel like listening about Jisung’s and Hyunjin’s shared music major, because you’re secretly envious of the fact that they still get to meet each other every day. You don’t feel like watching Chan’s father-like smile when you know you won’t see it for such a long time. You don’t feel like watching Seungmin bickering with everyone when you know he won’t be there to make fun of you when you forget to change from your pyjama pants and go to school in them again. You don’t feel like sitting around in a hug with Felix when you’re more than sure you’re going to miss the way he so lovingly held you once you're sitting in your empty dorm room.

But you don’t feel like sitting there and watching your best friend laughing in his living room with a can of beer in his hand the most of it all. Because it feels like time’s running out. It feels like if you don’t soon do something, anything, all of those people will forever disappear, even though you know you will always have the chance to meet them on holidays.

You don’t want to look at them when your heart hurts at every chance of that encounter.

You miss them all already.

You turn around at the sound of the front door opening, seeing Chan standing there with his usual warm smile, but it doesn’t make you feel safe this time around. It makes you feel longing, it makes you feel like you’re far, far away already.

“Why are you just sitting here, Sonic?” he laughs, nudging your side with his elbow as he sits next to you on the stairs of the front porch, making you break out into a small smile at his teasing nickname comparing you to the blue cartoon character.

“I don’t feel like partying,” you shrug, not meeting his eyes just in case they tell on you. You watch the stars instead, noticing the way they have never shined brighter, as if they wanted to show you how beautiful they can be the last night you spend in your hometown.

“Don’t be scared,” mumbles Chan, putting his hand on your thigh, comforting you, “you know we’re all just one call away, right? We may not see each other that often anymore, but that doesn’t mean you’re losing us, you know that,” he says, speaking the words you needed to hear for a really long time now, making you look at him with a sad smile on your lips.

“Yeah, I know,” you nod, seeing that father-like smile appear on his lips again. Chan has always been like your older brother to you. He knew you like the back of his hand. You almost forgot how see-through you always were for the boy when he left for college three years ago.

“But this isn’t about us anymore, is it?” he grins playfully, but still considerably enough to not hurt your already fragile feelings.

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. He really did know you better than you knew yourself, huh? There was something about Chan that always made him seem like a trained therapist. Maybe it was because he was the oldest of your friend group, always taking care of the eight of you whenever something bad happened. He looked after you all. His heart has always been full of gold.

“No,” you shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek, lost in thought.

“You’re not losing him. Ever,” he says firmly, “I promise.”

“Chan, I-”

“For the past year, it was just the two of you. The two of you against the whole world. Do you really think he would throw away something like that just because he won’t have the chance to see you every day?” says Chan, gazing at you with caring eyes.

“No,” you shake your head, “but the distance… I will miss him so much.” you say, feeling actually kind of relieved after the confession you kept all inside without being able to say it out loud for so long. Because once you say it, it’s there. It’s the truth.

But that’s how it is, it is the truth. You will miss your best friend so, so much.

“But he’ll always be there, the distance doesn’t change anything,” Chan says, voice warm.

“What if-” you start, laughing at yourself in self-pity, “what if he finds someone better there? What if he won’t feel like he needs me anymore? It will be so lonely without him, Chan.”

Chan gazes at you for a while, as if he was studying the way your eyes held all the sadness they possibly could at the very moment, before he speaks up again. “Tell him.”

“Tell him what?” you ask, furrowing your brows at Chan.

“You know what I mean,” he says, laughing light-heartedly.

And you know what? He’s right. You know what he means. And maybe you always knew, but you just never said it out loud. Because once you say it, it’s there, and it’s the truth. And hiding from that truth was all you did these past months, even though it’s always been there.

You shake your head again, as if to let him know how well he knows you, staring off to the distance. You feel like you know every car that passes by, every bird that chirps from the tree branches in Jeongin’s back yard. This place feels like a home to you. And you’re not ready to leave home yet. You’re not ready to leave Jeongin.

“Don’t be scared okay?” asks Chan, standing up, but you know that this time, he means it in a whole different sense. Something about his words makes you calm down, nodding at him.

“Are you leaving already?” you ask, seeing him nod.

“Gotta leave early tomorrow,” he says, mimicking your sad smile, “call me when you arrive in your dorms, alright? I wanna hear all about it.” he says, making you smile.

“I will.” you say, seeing him take long steps backwards until he’s at the end of Jeongin’s driveway, waving his hand at you with a bright grin on his face.

“Bye! I’ll visit you some time!” he calls, ignoring the silent hours, knowing damn well Jeongin’s neighbours don’t care about those ever since the last time you went out and screamed out all your bottled-up frustration from your failed maths test last year with Jeongin.

“It’s a three hour long drive, Chan!” you shake your head.

“And?”

“And you don’t even have a car!” you laugh, seeing him burst out into a fit of giggles.

“I’ll find a way, believe me!” he says, and with that, he leaves. The empty space next to you on the front porch makes you feel sad now, contemplating going inside the house and at least trying to talk to your friends one last time, when you hear the door open again, revealing Jeongin standing there with a frown on his face.

He doesn’t ask you anything, nor does he say anything as he takes a seat next to you, much like Chan did just a few minutes ago. His eyes don’t even meet yours. All you feel is pure melancholy, pure longing for the boy next to you, pure love beating out of your chest as he leans his head onto your shoulder and places a hand on your knee.

You swear you could do it any time. Say it. Just three words - that’s all. Easy. But you know that maybe if you did, saying goodbye would be much harder for you in the morning. It wouldn’t feel right, leaving him with the knowledge you spilled your deepest secret to him.

And so you do the next closest thing, you say the next closest words to the three most important ones just sitting at the tip of your tongue: “I’ll miss you.”

The words feel so vulnerable. So intimate. Like you’re spilling out your heart to him.

“I will miss you too,” he says back, voice muffled and sad. He said it. It just made it real.

You look at him, his head coming off your shoulder, seeing the sparkle in his eyes mirror the stars in the night sky, reminding you of the beauty of your hometown, because to be honest, no place feels closer to home than when you're in his arms. Your breath hitches in your throat, your body shivering under his gaze. He wears the same love-struck drunken gaze in his eyes, but this time, you’re sure he’s not drunk enough for you to confuse his feelings for alcohol.

Your eyes flicker to his lips, hesitantly looking into his eyes for any sign of rejection, but finding none as he leans in a little, nudging his nose with yours.

This surely isn’t your smartest idea. But it sure does feel like one.

You can almost feel his lips on yours, the ghost of them glazing over yours with his warm breath, when the front door opens for the third time this evening, making both of you jolt away from each other as Jisung’s loud voice cuts through the silence.

“Here you are! I was looking for you two!”

You look at Jeongin with wide, rounded eyes, seeing him gazing to the ground. The expression breaks something inside of you, making you brokenly smile at the boy in the doorway currently looking the two of you up and down, forcing out a laugh.

“Yeah. Here we are.” you say, passing past him, entering the living room to hopefully drown your feelings out in the noise of the seven people left in the place, desperately needing to forget about everything - your college, your mum, your friends, Jeongin - everything.

The kiss didn’t feel like your best idea anymore.

You load the trunk of your mother’s old white mini cooper with the luggage you packed with Jeongin on friday, a frown sitting on top of your lips as you take a look around your house for the last time in months. It will be weird to not see your small house every day. You never knew you could miss that place.

Sunlight hits your eyes as you watch your mother step out of the house, looking at you with a sense of pride, opening her arms wide so you can hug her goodbye. You lounge yourself into her body, breathing in her fruity perfume, feeling like you have to breathe in enough so you can remember the smell even when you’re far away. It’s another smell that reminds you of home. You never realised it until it felt like it was too late.

“Be careful on the roads, yeah? I didn’t leave you my car for you to break it somewhere on your first day of driving it, alright?” she says with a playful, scolding tone of her voice, although you know damn well she doesn’t mean it harshly. She just doesn’t want to say it with a sincere tone of voice, knowing her sensitive daughter might just cry if she does so.

“Right, right,” you nod, breaking away from the motherly hug, seeing her eyes move somewhere behind you, a knowing look settled on her features.

You turn around, seeing Jeongin standing at the end of your doorway, out of breath, a worried look plastered on his face as he watches you take long, slow steps to his figure.

“Hi-”

“I thought you left without saying goodbye!” he screams out at you, making you painfully look to the ground. His words hurt you. Because you know how worried he must have been when he thought you didn’t even care enough about him to hug him one last time.

The truth is, you wanted to do it. Leave without a word. You woke up in the morning on the sofa in his living room, visiting his room to find him in his bed soundly asleep, the warm light flowing through the blinds making him look ethereal. The reality hit you at the sight. It felt too hard to say it. To finally leave.

“I’m sorry, Innie-” you start, only to be cut off by your best friend again.

“Why are you pushing me away? Now, out of everything? When we have so little time left together?” he almost mourns, hands shooting up in the air.

You look around helplessly, seeing your mother disappeared into the house to give you two some privacy, already knowing what is the topic behind your conversation without you even needing to enlighten her in the first place. It’s so visible in both of your eyes. Nobody had to be told to know about the feelings you share for the other.

“I’m not…”

“Yes you are. What are you so afraid of, Y/N? I’m not disappearing just because I’ll be away,” he helplessly shakes his head, frustration written all over his face.

A lump forms in your throat, making you forcefully swallow it down, looking into his eyes. “What will I do without you? This doesn’t make it any easier for us, Jeongin, and I don’t want to be in pain for all this time without you.”

“Just because you refuse to say it out loud doesn’t mean it isn’t there, you know,” he says, gazing into your eyes, reading your mind perfectly.

You stare into his face again, admiring his features as if it was your last time to see them. His beautiful eyes that always looked at you with admiration. His pretty lips that looked so inviting ever since the moment you two shared at his front porch yesterday. The hair falling into his face, obviously not brushed at all today, since he ran all the way here after not finding you by his side in the morning like he thought he would.

You stare into his face again and your heart beats with admiration, because Jeongin’s right. Just because you refuse to say it out loud, doesn’t mean you don’t love him. And the fact that you confess won’t make it any harder for you. You would still miss him the same.

“I-” you choke on your words, seeing him shake his head.

“If you won’t say it, I will,” he speaks up, leaning in closer to you, his hand finding its way onto your cheek, his starry eyes gazing into yours as his breath glazes over your lips again, “I’m in love with you.”

You almost feel your eyes well up with tears just in time when his lips meet yours, shutting them close, immersed in the feeling of the kiss. It feels like your lips were made for him to kiss. Like the two of you were the trees in his backyard, so close to each other, always meant to have your branches and your roots intertwined.

You feel like you never want to pull away, but after a while, you’re forced to.

“Jeongin, I-” you take a deep breath, feeling the time ticking as you know you have to leave soon or you’ll come late, “I’m in love with you too.”

He nods, a wide grin settled onto his features, acting as if he knew all along and he just wanted to hear the words leave your mouth.

And there they were.

You said it, so it made it true.

You were in love with him.

But the truth is, you always have been. You just refused to admit it to yourself.

And so with the last kiss before you hopped into your mum’s old mini cooper, you try to remember how it feels, you try to remember how Jeongin’s lips taste against yours.

They taste sweet. Soft. Just like him. You try to remember how your heart flutters with every butterfly touch of his hand, you try to engrave his glittery eyes into your memory.

Because this is what you’ll think of when you feel the most alone in your first days of college. You’ll think of Yang Jeongin and the feelings he made you feel. You’ll think of home.

Because your heart has always felt at home when he securely held it in his hands.

“Call me when you get there,” he mumbles against your lips.

“I will,” you nod, not ready to let him go just yet.

“And don’t fall for any lanky literature major while you’re there, okay?” he giggles, nudging your nose with his, making you laugh.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good.” he nods.

“Good.” you repeat, gazing into his eyes.

“I’ll visit you when I can.”

And you know he’ll keep his promise. The ride will be long, but Jeongin will do everything just to feel at home. Because the only thing you two need to feel at ease is each other. And he’s not planning on disappearing just yet.

Not now, when he finally has you.

Not ever.

#districtninewriters #vracha #kafenetwork #stayhavennet #stayverse #straykidsland #kpopscape #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #stray kids fluff #stray kids au #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin imagine #yang jeongin scenario #yang jeongin fluff #yang jeongin au #yang jeongin x reader

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otonymous · 4 years

Text

It’s The End Of The World (MLQC Headcanon)

Dear Nonny...

I say that now, Nonny, but the truth is that the ONLY thing I love more than smut is angst! Mwahahaha! 🤣🤣 That being said, let’s take a one-way trip to Angst Town! Everybody got their seatbelts on?! LET’S GO!!! (Please note warnings below before reading 💕💕💕)

Warnings: angst, explicit language, trigger warnings (mentions of speeding, near-death experiences and flashbacks, nausea & vomiting, insomnia, slight mention of possessive behaviour, workaholism, loss of appetite and weight loss, anger and violent behaviour (not towards other people though!)) and SPOILERS (basically up to chapter 24 in the EN server; includes dates and Rumours & Secrets for the boys)

Gavin:

DEVASTATED. This man is absolutely devastated.

Gavin has known you since high school and loved you since then

You were his dream girl — the one he thought had got away until his duties brought you back into his life. He had vowed to protect you till the very end, had absolutely no qualms about giving his life for yours. He made a solemn promise to himself that he would never lose you a second time

Until that fateful day when you invited him out for lunch at Lynn’s Kitchen on the grounds of your old high school

You order his favourites, spicy noodles and lemon tea; wait until his stomach is full before you open your mouth to gently broach the topic

“Gavin…I…”

A single glance at your face tells Gavin that something is terribly off. He’s immediately setting his chopsticks down, asking, “What’s wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything. Whatever it is, I’ll help you—”

“Shaw. We…we’ve decided to be together. I know you’re not on good terms, and he did insist on coming today, but I thought it would be best if I told you myself…”

He cannot hear

He cannot move

And it isn’t until the burning sensation in his lungs catches up with him that he realizes he hadn’t even been breathing

Amber eyes, listless and dull, float from your lips to the wall decorated with Post-It notes just behind you, moving from one colourful slip of paper to another

“I hate it when people leave without saying goodbye.”

Gavin still remembers the loops and dashes of your handwriting on the Post-It note you had written so long ago, the way you dotted your i’s with hearts

And all of a sudden, he is back in his high school uniform, bloodied and bruised and free falling from the roof of the four-storey building

Except this time, he cannot hear the strains of a piano, no matter how hard he tries. The gingko leaves around him flutter to the ground just before…

“Gavin?” The touch of your hand on his snaps him out of his reverie. He tries to force a smile and fails.

“I…I’m sorry. There’s somewhere…I just remembered…I have to go….” He hurriedly puts a few bills on the table — more than enough to cover the entire meal — and dashes out of the restaurant

Gavin hops on Sparky and just goes…riding for hours on end with no destination in mind. He’s taken with an intense urge to go fast, as if his body were trying to outrun the feelings he doesn’t have the means of dealing with. At one point, an overwhelming wave of nausea hits him and he stops at the side of the road, retching and retching until his stomach is as empty as his hollowed-out heart

He’s still thinking of you the entire time he’s MIA. The last text from his phone is one sent to you, telling you not to worry about him and apologizing for the way he behaved back at the restaurant. He’s asking if you’d still be okay with talking to him when he gets back, and of course, to contact him immediately if you need anything at all

He still feels you in the wind

Believe it or not, for a short period of time, Gavin actually develops a fear of flying: it reminds him too much of you, brings up too many memories of him holding you in his arms as you traverse the skies together. He’s not confident he can do it anymore, partly because he thinks his Evol might suddenly give out when he’s high up in the air

The turning point comes when Gavin visits his mother’s resting place. There, for the first time since you broke the news to him, he actually cries, and it gives him the strength to carry on

Let’s be clear: Gavin will never, ever be over you. The two of you will remain friends though because Gavin intends to watch over you for the rest of his life (that is one promise he would never break)

With time, he gets used to seeing you with Shaw, even starts to relax a bit when he realizes that his younger brother is capable of protecting you

Someday, Gavin will marry — likely someone who was set up with him either by Minor or his colleagues (Birdcop would never take the initiative to actually meet somebody). This person is absolutely smitten with the handsome officer and his gruff ways and cannot wait to start a family with him. They would also have to be thick-skinned and stubborn enough to turn Gavin’s “no” into an eventual “yes”

And while Gavin would prove to be a loyal husband and doting father who would do anything for his family, a part of him would always, always, continue to burn for you.

Lucien:

How do you expect this man to behave when he’s lost the only colour in his life?

Lucien would never, ever recover from this. He doesn’t want to. The man for whom love was never meant to happen has no need for such an emotion. He wants nothing to do with it unless it has to do with you

The professor’s world literally returns to being a drab shadow of blacks and greys — the rainbow disappeared when his little butterfly flew into the palm of another’s hand

“Do you love him?” He’ll ask you, dark eyes almost hypnotic in their intensity when he pierces you with that gaze

You’re ashamed to find that you have to think twice before replying that you do indeed love Victor

Ba-bump, ba-bump, BA-BUMP — Lucien breaks out into a cold sweat as his heart begins to race, face becoming pale as a sheet

His shaking hands are pulled into tight fists within the pockets of his lab coat. He’s running his finger over the cap of his pill bottle inside one of them, not wanting to take them in front of you because in spite of it all, the last thing he wants is for you to worry about him 😭😭😭

Lucien nods, placid smile a mask on his face when he says, “I wish the two of you nothing but the best.”

“Lucien!” You start after him when he turns to walk away. “We…we’re still friends, right?”

For what is possibly the first time in his entire life, Lucien can’t think straight. His mind is a mess, logical thoughts tangled up with sorrow, hurt, anger, and the sense that the world could end at that very moment and he wouldn’t even bat an eye.

He takes a deep breath, composing himself before he turns to face you again: “Of course. You can always come to me if you ever need anything.” It takes everything in him not to fall apart when he lays a hand on the crown of your head, savouring the heat of your body for the very last time

In the days immediately afterwards, the people around Lucien better watch out as his ability to keep cool, calm and collected is challenged: he’s giving the side-eye to his colleagues at the research institute more often then usual, and Black Swan members literally want to run the other way when they see him coming. If they thought Ares was ruthless before then they’d better watch out now…

As if it were even humanly possible, the professor sleeps even less now: if he’s not in the lab, he’s literally wiling away the hours watching old Hollywood films

Sometimes, he’ll place his hand on the handle to the door of your apartment, closing his eyes and doing his best to pretend that he can still feel your palm in his (he knows you’re not home. You so rarely are these days…)

Unbeknownst to you, Lucien spends his weekends revisiting the places you used to go together: sitting on the same bench at the aquarium where you kissed him without a second thought, wandering to the theme park you ran away to as a child just to watch the carousel spin round and round, trying his best to keep a smile on his face when the kids at the orphanage ask him where his “pretty lady friend” is

Lucien actually has a kite that he bought ages ago, intent on fulfilling his promise to one day fly it with you. It sits in his apartment still. He can’t bring himself to dispose of it.

Gives you his pen, Iridescent, as part of his wedding gift to you. “May it always bring you luck, wherever you are and…whomever you’re with.”

Regardless of where he is, Lucien will always be keeping tabs on you. If Victor ever trips up, you can bet that Lucien will be there to swoop in and take his place

The professor will never love another person for as long as he lives. That’s all there is to it.

Victor:

Throws himself into his work when you break the news to him that you’ve accepted Lucien’s proposal

“If that dummy can’t see that I’m the most suitable choice for her, then let her suffer the consequences of her foolishness.” — Victor will tell himself that, but don’t believe it for even a second

Victor has always been obsessed with working, but this is on an entirely new level, even for him: the man’s been missing meals (or taking them at his desk, at most) and doesn’t leave his office until close to midnight, most days of the week

Like a watch whose gears are irreparably damaged, the LFG CEO is broken on the inside. He has to focus on work because he knows that if he stops long enough to fully consider the consequences of having lost you, he would never climb out of the depths of his despair

Even his dad and aunt become concerned, especially when they notice that he’s lost weight: “Victor, you have employees for a reason. Delegation is not a weakness.”

His mind often drifts to you, especially when he’s driving. There are many times when he finds himself absentmindedly heading in the direction of your office after work before he catches himself (the man is so used to picking you up that it’s become like muscle memory, in a sense)

Weekends will find him holed up in his attic space, fingers tracing over the uneven surface of the cup you had accidentally dropped and shattered, the pieces of which he had spent an entire night glueing back together

He shuts down Souvenir for a while: Victor cannot bring himself to step foot in the kitchen because he can’t help but see your face, smiling in rapturous joy to indulge in the caramel pudding he made especially for you

He spends his nights lying wide awake in a bed that suddenly seems much too big, wondering if you would’ve chosen differently if he took the time to tell you all the things he always thought were obvious: that he respected your fighting spirit, admired the brazen way you never gave up on the things you believed in, loved every single thing about you, even the things he seemed to disapprove of

His biggest regret: that he never had the chance to tell you that you were the love of his life

He often fantasizes about what it would’ve been like to stop time before you informed him you were choosing Lucien, to exist forever with you in a single moment when you made him the happiest man alive just by sharing your time with him

He still checks your Moments account religiously, murmuring “Dummy” with the faintest hint of a smile on his face to see your ridiculous posts, but he can never bring himself to reply. Victor’s pride won’t let him. He would rather die than let you know that each moment spent without you makes him feel like he is suffocating

Eventually, his worried family — especially his aunt — decides that enough is enough. They force Victor to take a vacation while trying to discreetly set him up with daughters of other wealthy and prominent families

Victor is beyond annoyed at having his personal affairs meddled with like this, but is essentially strong-armed by his aunt, who turns on the waterworks and starts sobbing about wanting to see the progeny of her dearest nephew before she passes on or withers away from want of new blood in the Li family

Victor will eventually have to marry and have kids — he needs to have someone to pass LFG on to. It will be a long while before he does settle down though; at one point, it’ll seem like he’s content to be a bachelor for life, married to his work

He will show up for your wedding though, and you can bet the most generous gift will be from the LFG CEO

“Try not to be such a dummy from now on. I won’t be there to set you straight and your husband may not be as patient of a man as I am.” Those jet black eyes are wavering with emotion when he reaches out to lay a hand on your head. But he halts midway, awkwardly pulling back because he’s realized that he doesn’t have the right to touch another man’s wife so casually 😭😭😭

Kiro:

“Ahahaha! All right, all right…you’ve got me. You can stop playing around now, Miss Chips,” Kiro will say, hands held up in defeat when you tell him that you’ve accepted Gavin’s proposal

When he realizes you’re being serious, it’s like all the warmth and light has suddenly been sucked from the room

Those blue eyes go wide, the smile dropping from the superstar’s face. For what seems like an interminable amount of time, Kiro just sits there staring at you, almost catatonic

When he speaks again, you’re so surprised you almost jump out of your skin: “Gavin…he’s that cop, right? The friend you’ve known since high school?”

You nod and all of a sudden, it’s like the floodgates have been opened: Kiro’s grasping your hands in his, expression panic-stricken as his questions come a mile a minute:

“Was it something I did, Miss Chips? I swear I’ll change! I…I won’t eat junk food anymore! Won’t even look at that stuff! If you don’t like your nickname, I’ll call you by your real name, anything you want! Or maybe it’s because my schedule is always so crazy? I’ll cut back on my jobs, I don’t care about the money! If you’re tired of running from the paparazzi, I’ll quit. Just quit, stop everything — I don’t care, ok? The only thing I care about is you! Miss Chips? Please don’t cry…I’m your hero, remember? So please…please…”

A single tear rolls down his cheek — you have to look away or else your resolve would crumble

“I’m so sorry, Kiro. I…I wanted you to be the first to know. I wanted you to hear it from me…”

It’s like all the life has been drained from him; it actually frightens you to see him like that

“Kiro?" You hesitantly lay a hand on his. It’s almost cool to the touch. Kiro gives his head a little shake, seeming to come back to himself

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Miss Chips. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to get hysterical. God, what an awful way to react….” He forces a laugh, but it is wooden and so goddamn heartbreaking to hear. You almost wish he would scream obscenities at you instead

“He, Gavin…he’s a good man. He’ll be good for you. I’m happy that you’re happy, Miss Chips.”

The next day, Kiro drops off the face of the Earth: he’s MIA, no one can reach him

Everyone is panicking: his agent, Savin, and management, his legions of adoring fans all over the world, and most of all, you

That is, until he sends two text messages, one to Savin and the other to you, telling you all that he’s safe and not to worry; he’s just taking some time to work some things out for himself

In actuality, the only thing that’s happening is that Kiro is reverting back to who he originally was before you came into his life

His sun has been eclipsed by crushing sorrow and loss, the brilliance of your light and warmth forever taken from him and he is left in the cold shadow of solitary darkness

Kiro wants to be happy for you, and he hates that he can’t — this dissonance so disconcerts him that he’d rather not feel anything at all

When the superstar does eventually return to the world at large, there’s something about him that’s changed — Savin and the rest will be largely fooled by that ever-cheerful mask he puts on, but you won’t

Those blue eyes seem just a bit darker, the radiance of his being almost imperceptibly dimmed

Poor Kiro, loved the world over, would never love another person for the rest of his life. It would always be you or nothing.

Shaw:

Hurt. Angry. Confused.

Shaw is angry with himself for ever believing that you and him had a future together; he hates that he saw the signs that you would always, always, always choose Gavin in the end and still continued to lie to himself in spite of it

He hates that he let himself become vulnerable by falling in love with you (Shaw sees vulnerability as the biggest weakness one could have, that’s why he’s always kept himself emotionally guarded in his dealings with people)

But for whatever reason, when it came to you, he just couldn’t help but fall (“Guess brothers are hard-wired in the same way after all, no matter how different we think we are,” he’ll say with a bitter laugh)

A lengthy and most unusual storm will hit Loveland City; expect an extended light show with lots of thunder and lightning

The boy is trashing his place, throwing whatever he can get his hands on: cans of Coke and Pepsi, dishes, clothing and books

He breaks the deck of his skateboard when he smashes it against the wall, bringing down a good chunk of plaster along with it

You won’t be there to witness the destruction. Shaw will continue to front like nothing could ever faze him when you tell him that you’ve chosen to be with Gavin. He’ll chuckle, brows raised as he bites on the tip of his straw, saying, “Whatever. It’s your life. Do what you want with it.”

Then suddenly, he’s standing up to leave, hand half-raised in goodbye as he makes for the exit without so much as a glance back at you.

“Take my umbrella. And don’t worry about returning it.”

Those are his last words to you. Not long after, you spy the handle of the black umbrella sitting in the stand near the front of the café (the only one there, since it had been bright and sunny out). And suddenly, the clouds are rolling in to blanket Loveland City in grey, sheets of rain pouring from a sky cracked in half by a fearsome bolt of lightning

Shaw walks, letting cold rain soak him to the bones to take his mind off the ice that’s already started to freeze the blood in his heart

“Don’t cry…don’t let them f*cking see you cry…" he's saying to himself, over and over again like a mantra

Starts hanging out at the Live House more than ever, losing himself in the music and packed crowds there; he can’t stand to be alone right now.

When he’s not playing bass guitar as a last minute backup for the bands, he’s literally working on his thesis at the bar, sipping on his Coke and Pepsi blend (the staff know him so well that they’re pretty much cool with him doing anything at this point LOL)

STILL blows off every person who comes to proposition him for a good time

I’m sorry, but you know it’s pretty much gonna rain on your wedding day, right? (The poor boy can’t help it, okay? He is SAD, SAD, SAD!)

Much like his brother, Shaw will never really get over you. You were, after all, the first person he ever truly loved

Would likely remain an eternal bachelor, only engaging in meaningless sex but never opening his heart to anyone ever again. One lesson was enough for him. 😭😭😭

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc headcanons #mlqc angst #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc kiro #mlqc zhou qiluo #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #source: giphy

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starkskypines · 3 years

Note

Hi Kylie! Your prompts look so cool!

How about 19 for any Star Wars characters of your choosing?

Hi KT!!! Thank you for this prompt and sorry it took so long! Also this one is a bit long at 2k words.

19 “we’ll sit and talk the stars down from the sky”: you know that dinluke trope where luke and din enter a political marriage? Yeah.

>>>

There’s a moment, just a moment, where Luke feels the entire weight of Mandalorian armor with a full-size male in it crash into his body. He realizes in that singular moment that he was wrong earlier when he asserted that no Mandalorian was a match for skill in the Force. Because if this Mandalorian was actually fighting him, he would be hard-pressed to recover from a blow like this. And given how much time Mandalorians spend training to counter Jedi fighting techniques, Luke doesn’t think he’d actually be able to win a fight against a fully trained Mandalorian. He’s had limited combat training himself. Just what he learned from Rebellion fighters. He’s skilled with his lightsaber, but Mandalorians are quick to disarm. They know how to defeat a Jedi and Luke hasn’t ever thought about how to defeat a Mandalorian before. Well, perhaps Boba Fett for a second on Tatooine, but he was busy and didn’t have time to realize exactly how skilled the armored man would be had Luke had time to fight him. He’s glad he didn’t because he has a feeling that would be embarrassing. Just like it’s going to be embarrassing when Paz makes him put his words to action. For now though, they’ve got other concerns.

The weight lifts after that moment and Luke is free-falling through the air. The wind rushes across his cheeks, hurting his ears just a bit, and making his eyes water. He closes his eyes and lets himself fall. The Force allows him to be aware of the ground below, the currents of the air, Paz fighting nearby, Din moving beside him. Both of them quiet confidence and brutal efficiency. Din is softer than Paz though, but Luke thinks he’s biased. Din is his husband after all.

Luke lands gracefully on the ground thanks to the Force slowing his fall. He looks back up to the clifftop where Din and Paz are still fighting. He can’t be of much help to them down here, but he doesn’t really think they need his help. Not like that. Sure they need him to strengthen ties to the Republic, but they don’t really need his skills as a Jedi. He’s glad they don’t hate him for that though, not like they used to in the beginning of all this.

But still, Luke isn’t one to sit out of a fight. So he gathers the Force around him and hops his way up the hundred-foot cliff to rejoin the fray.

The fight is over quickly when it’s a bunch of pirates against two Mandalorians and a Jedi.

***

“So, you want to reconsider your position on being able to take me down after seeing me fight?” Paz asks.

They’re cooking food over the campfire. Din claimed that Paz is the best cook, so just let him do it. Luke doesn’t like being unhelpful, but he allows Paz to cook. He was raised on Tatooine so his abilities allow him to make edible food but nothing that really excites the palate.

“I did challenge you.” Luke isn’t going to back down now, even if it means he gets his butt kicked in front of a public crowd. “But yes, I am worried I might lose.”

“Might?” Paz scoffs under the helmet. “Jetii, you will lose.”

“We’ll just have to see won’t we.” Luke smirks, something Leia says makes him look like an infuriating child who’s been listening to Han for too long.

“Sorry about pushing you off the cliff.” Paz shrugs. “Thought you’d live but still, Din says I should’ve warned you first or something.”

“It’s rude to push people off cliffs,” Din says.

“I was fine. It was fun actually. You know we might be able to turn that into something to be used during a fight. If we have to drop in, or fight from ship to ship in mid-air. You’ve got the jetpack, but I’ve got the Force so mid-air fighting could have some interesting possibilities.”

Paz laughs. “You bet we can work on that. You’re sticking around this time right? Didn’t come just to challenge me to a fight?”

“I’ve got time to stay. I can’t get funding to search out Jedi temples and artifacts until next year, so I’ve got a little while to get to know Mandalorian customs.”

“Well, rule one, we don’t take off the helmets,” Paz says although Luke already knows that and scoops out a bowl of stew and hands it to Luke.

“Thank you,” Luke says and stands to go find somewhere else to eat.

He settles down against a rock that overlooks a small clearing in the forest. It’s a fairly rocky world, giant rocks forming cliff faces, and other smaller ones dotting the landscape, a break against the green and brown of the grass fields and forests.

Luke has almost finished his bowl of soup when Din joins him. It’s not unusual for the armored man to seek him out. Usually to discuss something related to politics or culture or Grogu. Now that conversation had almost ruined the marriage. Din said no to training and Luke pushed and well...it had almost come to blows. Luke is a Jedi. He knows how to help Grogu. Sometimes he wishes he could do more, but that’s not his role here. One of the first Force-sensitives he finds and he can’t hardly speak to the child. It’s a good lesson for the future though. The Jedi’s reputation as child-snatchers is pervasive.

Din is quiet as he settles against the rock, his shoulder brushing Luke’s briefly before he pulls away. It’s the most touching Luke ever gets from him. He’s not sure he exactly wants more, but something warmer would be nice. But again, there’s only one point to this marriage, and it’s not Luke’s happiness.

“Why do you want to find Jedi temples?” Din asks.

“I’m a Jedi, and I hardly know anything about our culture. A lot was erased by the Empire. If I’m to train the next generation of knights, then I need to know what kind of people I’m inviting them to become. You can be Force-sensitive without being a Jedi. You can get training without being a Jedi. It’s a choice you have to make. I want to make sure everyone is informed before making that choice.”

“You can train as a Jedi and not be a Jedi?”

It’s not hard for Luke to see who he’s thinking of, but he doesn’t want to break the calm by bringing up Grogu.

“Yes. I’ve trained Leia how to control her powers and how to a do a few other things she was interested in. She doesn’t have the time to really be a Jedi, but she can’t just let her skills die out when they can be useful to her in any career.”

Din is quiet. “Grogu can’t sleep at night. I think it’s something Force-related.” Din pauses, and Luke gives him time to work out the correct words. “Could you–could you help?”

Luke nods and keeps his attention on the trees on the other side of the clearing. “I can try. What makes you think it’s Force-related?”

“Things move.”

Luke nods. “Let me talk to him when we get back, and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

“Not alone.”

“No, not alone. You’d be there of course,” Luke pauses and can’t help but adding, “I’m not trying to separate families. I’m building something different than the old Order.”

“You know you could get anything you wanted if you threatened him.”

Luke turns to Din then. “You think I’d do that?”

Din shrugs.

Luke turns away. He can’t really blame Din for thinking that. Jedi don’t have a good reputation in Mandalorian circles, let alone the son of Darth Vader. Clearly he can’t be trusted. The minute that little tidbit came out he and Leia lost a lot of standing in the New Republic. He’d convinced Leia to spin it so that it looked like Luke was the one more like Vader. The black clothes, the lightsaber, the fact that Luke had spent time alone with Vader and the Emperor on the second Death Star. It took the heat off Leia enough that she could make headway in the Senate, but the rumors and distrust still haunted them both.

“Maybe not, but if the New Republic asked you to.”

Luke wants to laugh at the absurdity, but here he is married to a Mandalorian because the New Republic asked him. It’s not his fault he was the only one that knew the Mandalor and his son. The seeing stone worked, but Din had changed his mind by the time Luke responded to the call.

“Well, I’m not in the business of betraying my husband,” Luke finally responds.

It’s silent as the insects begin to chirp, their symphony drowning out the silence. Luke should be the one to head back to camp, but he always feels the way Paz and Din don’t want him there. He aches for the day he can make a place of his own where he is wanted. Not even as a friend. He has Han and Leia and Chewie for that. But maybe as a leader, or just someone helpful, just someone that can be trusted.

“I don’t remember much about my parents,” Din starts suddenly, “Hardly anything in fact. But I remember when Mom and Dad fought she’d turn to him and say, ‘no, we’ll sit and talk the stars down from the sky.’ It was her way of ending the argument. I didn’t get it at the time, but it stuck with me. I think it means that when you lay all your cards on the table, there’s no more secrets or hidden motives that can cause arguments.”

Luke tilts his head a bit to look toward Din’s visor. He can’t make out the lines well in the darkness, but he knows Din is looking at him too.

“I can’t trust you, because I can’t trust anybody.”

“That’s a lonely way to live.”

“It’s not good for Grogu. I’m too protective, but I can’t–I can’t lose him.” Din nods once, as if coming to his own conclusion. “If he could defend himself–using the Force–”

Luke waits and Din doesn’t continue. Luke takes a risk and places his hand on Din’s arm. Din flinches but resettles.

“It will take time for you to trust me. I know. But I am willing to sit and talk the stars down from the sky as long as it takes for you to trust me. For no other reason than I think you’re right about Grogu needing to be able to protect himself, and I don’t like the air of loneliness that I get from both of you.”

Din puts his hand over Luke’s.

“Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

Din shakes his head, the silver metal catching the reflection of moonlight from the rising moon. “You aren’t. You just like people to think you are.”

Luke can’t deny that, but he’s surprised that Din picked up on it.

“So why do you do that?”

Luke settles back against the rock. He goes to pull his hand away but Din holds on, and it doesn’t take much for Luke to intertwine his fingers through Din’s and open his mouth. He doesn’t think Din realizes just how much power he has over Luke in this moment because Din doesn’t know how much Luke wants Din to like him. He wants to be his friend and confidante and sometimes–like now–he wants permission to hold Din’s hand in the moonlight as the insects create a symphony that drowns out the fear that comes with opening up. Or maybe that’s just Din’s presence. The simple way he listens without judgment. The fact that Luke can sense his emotions if they spike, but otherwise he doesn’t really know what’s going on behind the mask, so Luke can pretend that it’s a soft smile and warm eyes as he tells truths very few are privy to.

#prompt fill #dinluke #this might be one of my favorite things i've written #skydalorian #luke skywalker #din djarin #dinluke fic #skydalorian fic #the mandalorian #paz viszla

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liron-ao3 · 3 years

Text

It's not that Dean doesn't like Castiel. It is more of an I-swear-on-my-mother's-grave-I'll-kill-him kinda relationship. Because the thing is, Castiel set up Dean's little brother Sam and his stepsister Rowena and it isn't that Dean could say it out loud, but he is worried. To say the least.

Rowena has a power over Sam that makes Dean's stomach flip. She conjures sappy smiles on Sam's face and makes him follow her like a love-drunk puppy. She's a witch, Dean is convinced, but he tries hard not to mention that in Sammy's orbit. He heard the whole that's-a-misogynistic-term speech when Sam was dating that Ruby chick and Dean knows that his brother would only cling closer to the Scot if he knew that Dean thinks that his fiancée is straight from hell.

So Dean grits his teeth, swallows his tongue, and plays nice around her, even going as far as agreeing to be his brother's best man. He will still be there when Sam comes running with his heart broken and with his tail between his legs.

Castiel, on the other hand? That man he can hate in abundance. Not that he has ever met him, but honestly, he has to be Lucifer himself if he thinks their siblings to be a good match.

Dean can picture him vividly—a leer on his face, sweet-talking people into feeling safe and then smiting them with the snap of his fingers. That man has to be evil incarnate and Dean won't pussyfoot around him. No way!

***

"Play nice," Bobby grumbles when they enter the venue for the rehearsal dinner.

"I am nice," Dean hisses back.

"Sure you are," his surrogate father says and makes a beeline for Ellen and Jo on the other side of the room.

Dean shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and scans the room for the man he is sure he will recognise immediately. But no one really sticks out from the crowd that is well-dressed and mostly speaking in different kinds of British accents. Family of the bride, obviously.

Dean feels a little underdressed until he spots a man in an ill-fitting suit, draped into a trenchcoat. He is standing next to a redheaded, slim woman, who Dean would probably try to get on the backseat of his Impala if he wasn't set on finding that Castiel guy, sweet talk him today and wreck him tomorrow. Unless Sam does the wise thing and cancels the wedding, which seems less and less likely by the minute. Rowena's spell seems to become stronger day by day. Dean hardly recognises his ever-worrying, self-loathing brother anymore, with all the grinning that goes on on his face.

Maybe Dean is an asshole, but he has pulled Sam from the edge too many times to count. This is too good to be true. Happiness doesn't find a Winchester. Not in his experience.

Dean walks to the other side from where the redhead smiled over to him. Maybe she can point him to the object of his hate. She tilts her head to the side when he comes closer.

"You must be Dean," she says, stretching out her hand. Dean is taken aback by her knowledge.

"How did you…?"

She shrugs. "I know nearly everyone in this room. And the only two men Sam ever mentioned were his brother and Bobby who I assume is the fella over there."

Dean looks in the direction she is nodding to. "Yeah. Sam always had more female friends."

"I think that's what Rowena likes about him. He's sensible."

Dean huffs. "Yeah, I bet she likes that he's soft for her."

"He makes her very happy," the man says and his voice does things to Dean's insides he doesn't want to nurse right now. He needs to focus on his anger. Arousal isn't helpful.

"If you say so," Dean grunts.

Anna furrows her brow. "Are you okay, Dean?" she asks concerned.

"Yeah, just not really convinced about this whole wedding business. Don't you think it's too fast?"

The man tilts his head to the side and Dean starts seeing the family resemblance. "I think that they complement each other very well. I would have expected Sam's best man to see that, too."

Dean can't really argue with that. "I don't know her well enough to judge. I just know that my brother is a different person now."

"And you don't like that?" the woman asks. Hell, Dean doesn't even know their names and spills all the beans, probably making an ass of himself.

"He's my brother. I know him better than anyone and this—" He gestures in the engaged couple's direction. "This isn't the man I raised."

Two pairs of eyes move to the tall men and back to Dean.

"You mean a happy man?" the woman asks.

"No. I mean…" Dean should have kept his mouth shut. They don't know Sam, his dark thoughts, the forced smiles, the brave face. Dean knows it all or at least well enough to know that the chuckling man on the other side of the room is a stranger to him. Okay, maybe Dean is a bit overdramatic. He knows Sam laughing, pulling pranks. But life had been shitty to both of them and the only people they could always rely on were the two of them.

Yes, their circles have widened over time, with Jody and the girls, Charlie and Dorothy. Still, happiness isn't really part of their lives. They might get glimpses of it, but…

"You mean what? That our sister isn't good enough for your big shot lawyer brother?" the man asks.

Dean freezes. He sometimes forgets that Sam isn't little Sammy anymore. That he's one step away from leaving his old life behind, and with it his big brother, probably.

Dean scans the people in the room, mainly the bride's family and he swallows hard. Yes, he's the odd one out. He only owns a single suit, so he couldn't wear it tonight. Is it that? Is he jealous? Or anxious to lose Sam?

He looks back at the bride and groom. Sam presses a kiss into Rowena's hair. From afar, they are a cute couple with the difference in height and the unconventional age gap.

Dean bites the inside of his cheek and tries to unclench his fists. It isn't working.

"She's way out of his league," he hears himself say, not knowing where this is even coming from.

"That's what you said, Anna, the first time you met Sam," the man chuckles.

Anna? Oh, that's the future sister-in-law Sam raved about and Dean thinks he wants to set him up with. Well, that probably flew out of the window a minute ago.

"I didn't, Castiel. I said I was surprised that she went for someone younger. That's all."

Dean's eyes shoot up. That's the man? The man, who he built up as the bogeyman who would get familiar with his fist? A fucking baby in a trenchcoat?

The whole house of cards that Dean has built up over weeks is threatening to collapse. Dean's throat tightens and he pops a button on his polo shirt, but to no avail. He meets Castiel's eyes for a moment, the other man squinting at him as if he could look deep into his soul.

"Are you okay, Dean?" he asks and sounds concerned.

"Yeah. Just need some air," Dean all but spits and heads for the door.

He props himself up on the roof terrace's balustrade and tries to sort through all his contradicting feelings. He hates it. It's all him. His fear to be left behind, for the only constant in his life to leave, like everybody else who has ever meant something to him. He's jealous and the realisation hits him hard.

Yes, he doesn't know Rowena, but Sam does. Well enough to want to marry her. Sam, who thought he was too toxic for a real relationship. Dean always told him that this was bullshit. And now that his little brother is finally listening, Dean acts like a jaundiced ex? Fuck!

"There you are," a too-familiar voice comes from behind. "I thought you left me hanging, man."

Dean chuckles. "I have to lead the bride to the altar, right?" He ruffles Sam's hair. His brother glares at him, but without heat.

"Wanna come in? I'd like to introduce you to Rowena's best man."

"Who's that?"

"Castiel."

Dean's eyes sink to the floor. Of course, he is. "Already met him."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you already snubbed him."

"Nah. I wouldn't embarrass you in front of your new family." It's enough that Dean embarrassed himself.

"Most of them are kind people," Sam says carefully. "And after tomorrow, Rowena is your family, too."

Dean works his jaw. It's a bit difficult to look at Sam, now that he realised that he's never given his fiancée a real chance.

"You'll be here in California, and I'll be back in Kansas. We'll be lucky if we see each other on Christmas."

Sam squeezes his shoulder. "You could move here, Dean."

The older brother shakes his head. "I don't belong here, Sammy." Another squeeze. "And I can't afford to take off so much to drive over." And soon you'll be too busy to fly back to where everything feels small and like past, he adds in his head. He puts on a smile nonetheless.

"Samuel?" Rowena calls from the entrance. "Dinner starts in five."

Sam smiles over to his future bride. "I just need a minute, mo ghràdh."

"Mo what?"

"It's Scottish Gaelic for 'my love'."

Dean raises an eyebrow and chuckles. "You really got it bad, huh?"

"I wouldn't marry her if I didn't."

Dean pats his back. "I'm happy for you man." He's surprised that he means it.

***

Dinner goes fine and Dean has a nice conversation with Anna, who is seated next to him. Luckily, she's not of the resentful kind. Still, Dean is feeling out of place. Their found family is so much smaller than Rowena's real one with all the siblings and cousins from both sides of the pond. And this is only the rehearsal.

As soon as dinner is done, Dean excuses himself and flees to the hotel. A real one that Sam was kind enough to pay. It makes Dean feel only smaller and not good enough.

He takes a shower and walks out on the balcony, just a towel slung around his waist. He can hear the waves hitting the beach nearby and seabirds screeching. He gets why Sam moved here, why he won't come back. It still stings.

Dean did everything in his power to get him so far and he can't bring himself to regret it. But he's still angry. Maybe he is anger, plain and simple. He's been angry since his mother died and his father gave a shit about giving his sons a home. This anger will probably never go away. It's good that Sam found happiness, Dean muses. At least one of them should.

There's movement on the balcony next door and despite the separation wall, Dean can see the trenchcoat clad arms propped up on the railing. What are the odds?

"Castiel?"

There is a long pause and then comes, "Dean?" This gravelly voice doesn't fail to move him. If Dean didn't decide to scratch the term 'witch' for his future sister-in-law, he would wonder if her stepbrother might be a witcher, too.

"Yeah. Not into parties?"

There is another pause, probably filled with a head shake Dean can't see. "I don't like crowds of people. And my family is, well, my family. I love them, but it's complicated."

"I get it," Dean says, although he probably doesn't.

"You seem to have cooled down a little," Castiel states matter-of-factly.

"Was it so obvious?"

Castiel laughs and the sound vibrates into Dean's heart, churning it in delicious ways. "You looked as if you were out to kill someone."

Dean chuckles. "I kinda was."

"Why? And who?"

Dean swallows hard. What he would give for a beer right now, but he had way too much of that red wine already. Maybe that's why he answers, "You." There is a long moment of surprise that Castiel doesn't seem inclined to break, so Dean adds, "I built up this story in my head that Rowena bewitched Sam and you were at fault because you brought them together."

"And now?"

Dean shrugs his shoulders. "I only want Sammy to be happy."

Castiel hums on the other side of the separation. "Why are you sounding so sad then?"

A flare of anger rises in Dean's chest. The man doesn't know him. What gives him the right to state something like this?

"Blow me, Cass!" he grinds out. That guy is getting under his skin. Why, he doesn't know. Maybe because he's right.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The retort comes quick like a shot and Dean is struck speechless for a way too long moment. Castiel starts chuckling.

"You're an asshole!" Dean grumbles.

"An asshole who gives good head, though," Castiel says smugly.

Dean groans. No, he won't think of these sinful lips wrapped around his cock. No way, José.

"Is that an offer?" his mouth asks without his consent.

"I'm not a one-off kind of guy, Dean."

Dean wishes he wouldn't have to lie if he said he wasn't either. Is there an expiration date for that stamp if you haven't got laid for more than a year? Probably not.

The silence stretches into an eternity until Castiel quietly says, "Good night," leaving Dean alone in the pale moonlight.

***

Rowena looks beautiful and Sam smart. Dean manages to get through the whole wedding ceremony and his best man speech without a single glimmer of jealousy. Bobby looks at him approvingly and Ellen whispers into his ear that his mum would have been so proud of him.

Still, Dean finds himself on the balcony once again. His thoughts need space to swirl around him. There's a lot to process on this fine day—his brotherly/parent-like love, his own loneliness in a room full of people, the strange stares that Castiel and he have been sharing the whole day…

He presses the palms of his hands against his eyes, hoping to force back the sting of tears building up in them. A warm hand lands on his shoulder, startling him. "You've done well."

Dean chuckles without mirth. "Can't remember when anyone said something like this about me." He bites his lip, hard. Why did he say that? To a complete stranger nonetheless. Castiel doesn't comment on it, though, and Dean sighs in relief.

The music coming from the party changes to something slow and Castiel asks, "May I have the next dance?"

Dean turns his head and stares at the outstretched hand for a very long moment. He has never danced with a man before. Not without a beer bottle in his hand and for sure not a slow dance. But he feels a pull to this man, who he hated with all his guts just a day ago. A man with kind eyes, a shy smile, and a patience Dean isn't used to.

He takes the offered hand and Castiel's smile grows wider, just like Dean's heart. Castiel pulls him slowly into his arms, lets him settle against him, and rewards Dean's head leant against his own with a gentle brush over his back.

Dean shivers at the tender touch and bites the inside of his cheek in a last attempt to keep back the tears welling up in his eyes.

"It's okay," Castiel says. "Let go. No one will see it."

And Dean does. In the arms of a stranger under the Californian moon. He doesn't shake off the tender hand carding through his hair, or the strong arms holding him upwards. He lets out the sobs he's been holding and allows Castiel to brush away his tears before their lips meet in a gentle kiss. He smiles at Castiel bashfully afterwards.

"It's okay," Castiel repeats.

Dean chuckles. "Is it? Crying like a baby in a stranger's arms?"

"Crying like the big brother, who raised a wonderful man and has to let him go to live his own life. Crying like a lonely man, who hasn't been touched intimately for ages."

Dean furrows his brow. "How?"

Castiel smiles at him with so much warmth that Dean feels like welling up again.

"Sam loves you. He talks about you all the time. It felt like I knew you before we even met. And the rest? Let's say, kindred souls recognise each other."

Dean huffs a laugh. "You're good, man."

Castiel smirks at him. "And you're a good man, Dean Winchester," he says and leans in for another kiss.

Maybe, Dean muses, Castiel is magical after all.

#dean winchester #castiel #human au #deancas #destiel #fanfiction #destiel fandom #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #deancas fandom #deancas fic #deancas fanfic #deancas fanfiction #emotional hurt and comfort #jealous dean #sad dean #understanding castiel #first kiss

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fiveisnumber1 · 4 years

Text

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 3850

Warnings: Mild Violence

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

_________________________

Pt 8 - Birthday Cash (part 1)

Sunlight shined through your curtains as the sounds of the city outside you started to wake you. Slowly you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. When your eyes came into focus you took a look at the calendar you hung beside your bed. The date of it read October 1st, 2002. Today was your birthday. Shooting up from your bed you ran down the stairs of your home into the living room. Standing there were your two parents.

"Happy birthday!" Your parents exclaim

You looked around the room to see balloons and decorations everywhere. Every year, your parents went all out for your birthday. To both of them, your existence was a miracle and they wanted to show how grateful they were to have you. Even when you were small and they knew you wouldn't remember what they had done for your birthday they still went all out. You were their little princess and all they wanted to do was make your day the best it could be. As you looked around the room you saw decorations from wall to wall. There were streamers and balloons as far as the eye could see. You made your way over to your parents who both gave you a big hug.

"Alright sweetie you sit tight right here and your father and I will be right back!"

Taking a seat on your living room couch you sit and wait for your parents. When they come back into the room you see your mom carrying a cake and your father carrying a box. Your mom places the cake on the living room table and takes a seat to your left side while your dad sits to your right. The two of them sing happy birthday to you and when you have your wish in mind you blow the candles out in one go.

"What did you wish for?" Your dad asks you

"Honey, you know wishes don't come true if you talk about them." Your mom says

"Oh fine, I won't pry." your dad responds "Anyway I've got one of many gifts for you right here. Do you want to open it?"

"Of course!" You reply excitedly

Your dad places the box in your lap and you gently undo the ribbon tied around it. Opening the box you remove the tissue paper and see the gift inside.

"No way! It's exactly what I wanted!" You exclaim

Inside the box was a replica of the diary for The Princess Diaries. The movie came out a little over a year ago and since then you were obsessed. You wanted the diary from that movie specifically because you loved how it needed a locket that fit it perfectly to open it up.

"Well, you had been talking about the journal ever since you saw the movie. It took a while but we had it custom made for you. It's practically an exact replica except we had it so yours could fit more pages." Your mom explains

"Do you like it?" Your dad asks

"I LOVE IT!" You reply "But where is the locket?"

"Lift up the diary." You mom says

When you lifted the book up you saw not one but two lockets.

"Why are there two?" You ask

"Well, we wanted to make sure that if you lost the first one you could have a second one handy." Your dad responds

"Keep the second one in a safe place." Your mom says

"I will!" You reply

You knew exactly where you were going to keep the second locket but for now, you spent some time with your family eating cake for breakfast and taking in all the time that your parents had spent to make your day special. When the three of you finished your cake your dad states,

"Your mom and I have one more surprise for you but we need to go to the bank to get it. Go get ready so we can head out."

Excitedly you run upstairs and get ready. When you finish you eagerly wait for your parents downstairs. Once all of you have everything you need to go, you head out the door and off to the Capital West Bank.

__________________________

Today was October 1st, 2002 but in the Hargreeves household, this day was just like any other. Reginald Hargreeves cared little for birthdays or the acknowledgment that his children were another year older. Like for past birthdays, he merely congratulated them on not passing yet and went on with his day. Unlike Reginald, Grace was much more sympathetic and caring towards the kids and tried to make sure that they all felt special on their birthday. When the children came down from their rooms for breakfast she made sure that each one of them got their favorite thing to eat. She also wished each individual child Happy Birthday as she handed them their plates. This was the routine that occurred every October 1st since they could remember, but this year it would be a little different because the kids knew that later today they would get to celebrate with you. While they kept quiet when their father was at the table, the minute he left the chattering of excitement amongst the six siblings was unstoppable. Each one of them presented their ideas for what they wanted to do for a fun birthday. Diego suggested,

"We should play pin the tail on the donkey but instead it's balloons and we have to pop them with knives!"

"Diego, you would win that one automatically." Allison comments

"And? I want to be a winner on my birthday." He replies with a wide grin

"Well, I want to have a dance party for our birthday!" Allison says

"Oooh, I can get on board with that." Klaus comments

"I want to duet playing happy birthday with (Y/N)." Vanya comments

"And I think it would be fun if we just sit around and talk," Ben says

"Maybe if we're lucky she'll bring over presents and we'll actually get stuff this year!" Luther adds

"What do you want to do for our birthday, Five?" Vanya asks turning the attention to him

"I bet he wants to kiss (Y/N)." Diego interjects making kissy faces at Five "Mwah mwah mwah oh (Y/N) I love you so much!"

"Shut up." Five says looking away from his siblings, heat rising to his face

"You're not denying it." Luther teases

Luther and Diego start to tease their brother more and Klaus starts to sing,

"Five and (Y/N) sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G! Fi-"

"Ugh! Leave me alone!" Five says grabbing his breakfast and getting up from the table

Five then flashes away to his room. His siblings were so annoying no matter what day it was. Ever since he had accidentally told them about a month ago that he loved you, they relentlessly teased him about it. Well, Diego, Luther, and Klaus did with Allison chiming in here and there. Ben and Vanya were more so supportive and stayed out of his business, which he appreciated. Nevertheless, it was difficult to deal with their incessant teasing. Yes, he loved you and yes, he's thought about kissing you but he couldn't find the courage to go through with it. You were his best friend, his only friend and he didn't want to lose you because he felt a certain way and you didn't. It was a risk he just wasn't willing to take because he couldn't be sure how you felt for him. Five sat down on his bed and angrily munched on his birthday breakfast hoping that soon enough something would happen to make the day more exciting.

__________________________

When you and your family arrived at the Capital West Bank you took a look around. It was very nice looking with high ceilings and a balcony upstairs that worked its way around the main room. Your father approached the counter and you followed. You ignored the conversation your father and the clerk were having and continued to look around. You saw many different people in the bank, some standing around, some going and then some coming in. As you watched a group of men walk in the door you grew suspicious. In your gut, you felt something shifty about them. Cautiously you watched them out of your peripheral to see what they were up to but to not be obvious about it. A bank teller then steps out from behind the counter and walks you over to a set of stairs directing you and your family up them. Bringing you to a back room the teller uses a key to unlock the door. In the room, you see wall to wall safes. Each one looking just as heavily secured as the next. Your father takes a step towards one of them and entered a passcode. When the safe opens in there is an exact replica of Princess Mia's tiara. Your father gently grabs it from the safe and places it on your head.

"A perfect princess tiara for our perfect birthday princess." Your mom comments

As you relish in the sweet moment with your parents you all hear some commotion from downstairs. Your family and the teller head out of the room and watch from the upstairs balcony as chaos breaks loose downstairs. You can hear the screams of other people in the main lobby as the men who you had a bad feeling about pull out some guns and start threatening people. The banker pulls you and your family back into the back room. Quickly your dad takes the tiara off your head and puts it back in the safe before closing it swiftly. The banker that brought you upstairs calls 911 and details the situation going on, but before he can finish talking to the 911 operator a couple of members of the who were in charge of this robbery shoot him. The criminals, uncaring of what they had just done to an innocent life proceeded to make their way over to you and your parents. Your parents get in front of you to put space between you and the criminals but it is useless because they end up forcing you three down on the ground and put duct tape around your wrists. As you're on the ground you give your mother a pleading look but she shakes her head no. You knew that you could use your powers to get you and your family out of this but your mom didn't want you to in fear of people taking you to do experiments. You let out a sigh as the robbers sit the three of you up. One of them sends the others outside to guard the room before turning to your father to interrogate him.

"Now tell me where this tiara is." The criminal commands

This is not how you expected your birthday to go.

__________________________

For the Hargreeves kids, their birthday was going the same as always, which is to say not much excitement was going on. They all separated and started to do their own things but their activities were interrupted when Reginald yelled,

"Children come down to the parlor immediately!"

All the children made their way down to the parlor as quickly as they could. Standing in an orderly line from 1 to 7 the children look to their father to hear what he has to say.

"You have been training to use your powers for years and now you have been presented the opportunity to go and demonstrate them to the world. The Capital West Bank is under siege by a group of robbers and the patrons inside have been taken as hostages. There has been a standoff with police for about two and a half hours at this point and I intend for you children to finish it. Get out of your pajamas and get in your uniforms, we leave in 10 minutes sharp."

The children run off to their rooms and rush to get ready for their first-ever mission. This was not quite the excitement they were looking for but nonetheless, it was better than nothing. Within 10 minutes' time, all the children were ready to go. Quickly, they made it to the bank. The six children with powers devised a plan to get inside while Vanya stayed with Mr. Hargreeves looking at the scene from afar. All the kids minus Luther make their way into the bank through side entrances trying to not get caught. As nonchalantly as possible Allison walked towards the main part of the bank. As she did so she saw one of the criminals talking on a walkie talkie.

"Hey get them behind the counter," He said to some other robbers using his gun to gesture "Now you've put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't wanna do. SHIT!"

She approaches the man and stands their innocently.

"Hey get back with the others!" The man commands to Allison

"I heard a rumor... Allison replies

"What? What did you say?" The man asks

Allison then leans in towards the man and repeats herself. Putting a hand up to her mouth she says,

"I heard a rumor that you shot your friend in the foot."

Under the command of Allison's power, the man turns to his accomplice and aims the gun at him.

"Hey dude, what the hell?" the other man asks

The man under Allison's power then shoots his friend in the foot before shooting again. The other man falls to the ground and accidentally shoots off rounds from his automatic weapon. The hostages of the bank scream in fear. A crash then comes from the ceiling as a bunch of glass rains down into the bank. Along with the glass is Luther who jumps down into the bank, grabs one of the criminals banging his head against the counter before throwing him out of one of the high windows. Within seconds Diego runs in brandishing his weapons of choice,

"Guns are for sissies, real men throw knives!" He exclaims throwing his knives and redirecting them towards one of the gunmen

The knives manage to hit the gunman in the shoulder and his heart. After the one gunman got hit by Diego's knives, the man standing next to Allison came out of his trance and ran away from her towards the counter. As the kids and robbers continue to fight chaos continues to ensue throughout the whole building.

__________________________

You and your parents had been in the backroom upstairs for what felt like hours at this point. The man who stood before you kept yelling at your father to tell him where the safe that had your tiara was. Somehow your dad had avoided the question thus far but the criminal was becoming inpatient. The robber was about to speak again when the sound of gunshots rang out from downstairs.

"We're gonna have to move this along. If you're not going to tell me straight up then I'm just going to have to force it out of you!" The robber yells

The robber then grabs you and holds the gun in his hand against your head.

"You should let go of me before something happens." You comment calmly

"Aw, what are you gonna do? Cry?" The man mocks

"You asked for it." You reply

In one swift motion, you phase backward through the man and kick him towards a desk that was in the room. As he falls over it you grab the letter opener and stab the man in the back with it hitting his heart. Undoing your parents' bindings you tell them,

"Stay here."

"But-" Your mom interjects

"STAY HERE" you command them

Within a second's time, you had phased through the door and into the middle of the upstairs hallway. Making yourself visible you use your powers to manifest the tiara in your hand and hold it up.

"Hey!" you yell grabbing the attention of the armed robbers "Looking for this?"

The angry men start to chase you but you turn invisible.

"Where'd she go?" One of them asks

One of the men walks down the hall to see if he can find you. Once the men are on two opposite side of the hall you reappear and taunt,

"If you want this crown you'll have to kill me for it."

The two men turn their guns on you and start to rapidly fire but you use your powers to make them go through you harmlessly and the two men end up killing each other. After you confirm they were incapacitated you hear a voice yell,

"Get back you freaks!"

Looking down from the balcony you see a man standing on top of the bank counter surrounded by Allison, Diego, and Klaus in their academy uniforms. You wonder when they got here but continue watching. the man points his gun at each of them he demands,

"Hey be careful up there buddy," Klaus comments

"Yeah, wouldn't want you to get hurt" Allison chimes

"Get back now!" The criminal demands

Five flashes behind the man so he is sitting criss-cross on the counter.

"Or what?" He asks with a cocky smile

The man turns his attention and gun to Five and starts shooting but Five had flashed away before any bullets could hit him. Flashing behind the man once more he crosses his arms, a serious look on his face. The man on the counter turns to him and starts clicking a stapler at him. Five looks down at the stapler before sarcastically commenting,

"That's one badass stapler."

Immediately after though Five forcefully pushes the man's hand. The stapler hits hard causing a gash in his head and the man to fall off the counter. Your jaw drops and your heart starts to race a little.

"Damn," you whisper to yourself

Something about him kicking that guys ass was really attractive to you. Forgetting that you were in the middle of fighting one of the robbers grabs you and takes the tiara out of your hand. You phase out of his arms and say,

"Either the crown goes down on the group or you go up in the air."

"You're not getting this back." The man states

"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you."

And with that you make it so this man's molecules are extremely light and hang him upside down in the air over the lobby of the bank. Freaking out he throws the tiara over the balcony and it lands by your feet. Not part of your plan but you are satisfied nonetheless. You continue to leave the man hanging as you watch your friends downstairs. Outside the vault five of the six children stand in a semi-circle around Ben.

"Do I really have to do this?" Ben asks

"C'mon Ben there are more of them in the vault," Luther says

"I didn't sign up for this," Ben says in a resigned tone

Ben enters the vault and begins to take out the men in their one by one. From across the room the man you were holding yells,

"Put me down!"

The five children left outside the vault switch their attention and see a man dangling upside down in the air. Looking slightly above him they can see you standing on the balcony above.

"I said put me down you crazy bitch!"

"You got it." You reply with a smirk before making the man's molecules extremely dense

The man rapidly falls down towards the floor of the lobby and impales himself on a flagpole. Five looks up at you an admiring smile on his face and awe in his eyes (even if they were hidden behind a mask). He had never seen someone so beautifully kebob a man.

"Wow." Five said to himself

The hostages in the bank start to run out of the building screaming. You transport yourself downstairs to the middle of the lobby and watch the bloodbath occur behind the translucent glass of the vault. When it stops you see Ben slowly step out from behind the door and he can be heard saying,

"Can we go home now?"

You see the children walk around the counter to make their way over to you. Even behind their masks, you could see the excitement in their faces especially that of Five. The children approach you but as they do you can see one of the men still alive get up and quickly make their way over to your group. Raising their gun up, they point it in their direction. He could've aimed at any one of you but he pointed his gun at Five. Quickly reacting you yell,

"Five watch out!"

You then transport your molecules so that you are between Five and the gunman. The gunman pulls his trigger but you push his arm up so that the shot hits the ceiling. You wrap your hand around his neck and look him in the eyes. Adrenaline rushing through your veins all you could think about was how this man almost killed the boy you loved. You were about to say something when,

*BANG*

Your entire top part of your body was covered in red. The body of the man falls backward and you see that all that was left was the shoulders down. You blink a couple of times coming to the realization of what you just did. Slowly turning to the group of kids Diego exclaims,

"HOLY SHIT (Y/N), YOU BLEW HIS HEAD OFF! THAT'S SO COOL.”

"Uh, thanks." you comment before gesturing to yourself and adding "Hey Ben, looks like we're twins now.”

You see a smile appear on the face of the boy who didn't want to be here in the first place. He didn't say anything but it brought him comfort to know you were in the same boat as him. You watch as Five opens his mouth to say something but before he can you hear someone screaming your name from above you. Turning around you see your parents. You wave to them from the lobby floor.

"Hi, mom! Hi dad!" You say as if nothing was wrong

You and the Hargreeves kids all watch as your parents rush down the stairs to get to you. When your mom gets to you she crouches down looking all over you for injuries.

"Oh my god (Y/N) are you okay? You're all covered in blood!" She cries

"Don't worry mom, it's not my blood!" You say with a positive attitude

Your mom wails in distress at the sight of her baby covered in someone else's blood.

"Honey, I don't think that was the right answer." You dad comments putting a hand on your mom's shoulder

"Oh uh, well then it is-" You start to say

"No don't finish that sentence, that's not it either." Your dad adds

Your dad helps your distressed mom off the floor and places a hand on your back escorting you all to the door. As the three of you walk he says,

"You know what. We're gonna go home and you're gonna get all that blood off you and then your mom and I are going to lay down for the rest of the day while you do whatever makes you happy for your birthday.”

The six children watch as you make your way out the door with your parents but before you exit you turn to smile at them knowing that you would see them later. As soon as you leave the kids rush out to the front steps so that the public can acknowledge them for the first time. This was the most exciting birthday they had had so far but they all knew it would only get better once you came over to celebrate later.

Tag list: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @eddiomyspaghettio @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind

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mashup-writing · 4 years

Text

If only you were here; Hwang Yeji (ITZY)

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Summary: Yeji was the leader, she couldn't afford to be seen being anything less than perfect for the role. No crying, being sad, or feeling any kind of negativity. But she's only human, and being human means letting your emotions run through you.

Requested? ☒

"Miles away from seeing you."

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She was exhausted. Today's schedule was nothing but hectic, from interviews to filming for music videos. All Yeji had wanted to do was be with her girlfriend, to have her take away the stress, to run her fingers through her hair, to hold her like doing so was the only thing keeping her together. But with Y/N visiting her hometown? The best she could do was a facetime.

She loved her job, her members, and their MIDZYs. She really does. But sometimes the high life takes more from you than it gives. Lately her girls have been facing prejudiced hate from a bunch of ruthless people online. Lia was being branded as "Lazy" and it made the leader's blood boil, among all five of them Lia was the one who spends the most time in the practice room, especially when she has trouble with some of the choreography. She remembers a memory of theirs that included Lia almost passing out of exhaustion in the practice room, Yeji herself wasn't enough to pull the pale and sluggish girl out of there. If Yuna's maturity and hidden stern-ness hadn't reared their heads then she has no doubt that Lia would've ended up in a hospital bed.

Chaeryeong is under fire for "Being Ugly" and all Yeji could do was scoff at the stupidity of the false accusation. Despite Yeji being Y/N's girlfriend, Chaeryeong was the latter's bias. This information had her shocked, Chaeryeong smug, and worst of all: It gave Ryujin a field day. Which resulted in getting the other three members in on teasing her. "Anyone who catches Y/N's eye is fucking beautiful" she mutters to herself. Not to toot her own horn but Y/N has an eye not only for gorgeous looking people, most times those she ends up liking are great people with great personalities. Your ex, Ahn Hyejin of Mamamoo is a damn great example of that.

Another one of her members under fire is Yuna, the baby of their new little family. Knets had a field day when it was found out that the Maknae wasn't originally planned to become a part of ITZY. Jumping on the chance to poke at the youngest's insecurity, thry took to saying that she wasn't good enough to be with them, much less have debuted at all. That's bullshit, and she won't leave room for argument. Yuna is the glue that holds them together, the friend that they can't imagine not having even when they've been a group for less than a year. She stands up to Yeji without being disrespectful when the leader is being too strict or controlling. She pulls Lia out of her workaholic state whenever it starts to become detrimental instead of beneficial. She is the one carrying Ryujin's ass whenever the latter thinks her dad jokes are funny. She's the one to calm Chaeryeong down backstage whenever the latter is feeling nervous, anxious or on the verge of a breakdown.

Ryujin's a reliable friend through and through, but if the fate of the world was decided by the rapper's ability to tell a funny joke? Yeji bets that they all would've died ages ago, she's better at joking around with actions than she is with words. Which leads to some people labeling some of Ryujin's actions as "Bullying". Yeji admits to herself that, yes. To the untrained eye it does seem as if Ryujin's the type, she has the face of a villain when she wants to look intimidating after all. But the rapper is also the softest person she has ever known in her life, testified by the one time they had a pillow fight in the dorm. In the heat of the moment, Ryujin's slipper got thrown and it knocked a Lizard dead off their wall. The pillow fight abruptly ended with four members trying to make her feel less guilty over the critter's untimely death.

Lia interjected that had the moment been captured on camera, some MIDZYs would be making a meme of how they'd like to be that "Lucky" lizard. Ryujin cried harder, because the lizard was not at all "Lucky" in her opinion.

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Yeji was so lost in her own thoughts and so fatigued that she didn't even realize that she had finished changing from her performance outfit to the clothes she wore before clocking in for work. It was only when she had closed the door to her dorm room did she realize how tired she actually was. She was thankful she had been given her own room instead of bunking with someone else again, she's not too sure she could make it up in a bunk bed if she was still roommates with someone.

She crashes onto the bed and pulls out her phone. Most days she would get some shut eye and just facetime her girlfriend in the morning, but at the moment she thinks she'll end up in a mental ward if she goes another second without hearing her Y/N speak. So despite the fact that she can't feel her legs anymore and that her eyelids are growing heavier by the second, she calls.

Ring

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Ring

You're pulled from the coziest and most comfortable sleep you've fallen into for the night by a constant ringing. You rub your eyes and turn towards your nightstand where your phone is located. "Who in their right fucking mind would be calling at this hour?" You grab your phone and the caller photo snaps you out of your mood before you even see the caller's name.

You hurriedly turn on your lamp on the nightstand and then proceeded to hit answer. "YEJ- whoa, not that I'm unhappy to see you but you look like you should be asleep instead. You look tired as hell Yej. Did you eat yet? How about water? Please stay away from dehydration and be sure to drink regularly." Yeji smiles at you, with her eyes drooping every now and then. "Yeah, I should be asleep but I just missed you so much I couldn't sleep without seeing you first."

You sit up and lean against the head board instead of laying down, your worry increasing tenfold. "What's wrong?" Yeji knows how to prioritize her health first and she never calls you half asleep because she had always claimed that you deserved nothing less than her full attention. She never calls you half asleep unless she's alarmingly close to losing her composure. Her eyes widen as soon as the question leaves your mouth, and a sniffle makes its way through the line. She burried her face in her arm and struggles with wanting to tell you and wanting to fake being strong with you.

You sense the dilemma within your girl and you refuse to let her carry this alone. "Hey, I'd never force you to spill. But I am always gonna be here to listen to your troubles. I already know how strong you are, you've got nothing more to prove. Let it out and I'll be here to support you." Yeji's resolve crumbles and she cries as she tells you everything that's been weighing her down today. She cries because of the unfairness of it all, she cries about how she can't protect her girls, she cries about how she wants nothing more than to wrap them up in a hug and not let go until they're all better but the girls just like their leader want to seem strong and untouchable for each other.

Yeji cries about how she wishes she was with you instead of working, she cries about how guilty she feels for sometimes wishing that they never had to go through the unfairness that the idol life had to offer, she cries about how she feels like she's disappointing the MIDZYs for feeling as she feels. She cries because it's just the start of their journey and she's already so tired. She cries because it's the only way she knows how to get rid of the stress, even if it's just a temporary solution.

What hurts you the most is that she doesn't look at you as she says this. You're a MIDZY after being Yeji's girlfriend and it you don't miss the way she chokes up even more when she said she feels like she's disappointing the fandom. You let your girlfriend let it all out before taking a moment to pull yourself together, and then you speak.

"I can't and I won't tell you that I understand how you feel as an Idol because I'm not one. But as a MIDZY, I can and I will tell you that you were born to be the leader of ITZY, no one else could step up to that role as well as you do even if they tried. Tell the girls I told you to let the haters run their mouths, because we MIDZYs know that each and every one of you brings something special to the table. ITZY isn't ITZY if it doesn't have Hwang Yeji, Choi Jisu, Shin Ryujin, Lee Chaeryeong and Shin Yuna as the members. You girls are a fucking unit and you are all strong enough to knock those bitches speechless."

You stare at Yeji the whole time and notice that although her body has stopped shaking, her tears are still making their way down her cheeks. You take in every detail of her face and wish with everything within you that you were there with her to wipe her tears and hold her close. In your opinion, words aren't enough but you suppose due to the distance between you two that you've gotta work with what you have at the moment. Right now all you have are feelings and words.

"Now as your girlfriend." Yeji's head adjusts enough that you could see half of her face, but the other half still remains buried in her arm. "I'm telling you that you can never disappoint me." She chuckles in humor before turning her gaze away from her phone. "You don't know that, I'm not perfect-"

"I never said you were."

Silence sits between the two of you. Not once in your whole relationship had you intentionally interrupted Yeji when she was speaking, you strongly believed that everyone deserved a chance to speak their piece. But that had exceptions. Such as now. "I never said you were perfect, because you're not. You're human and you have your flaws but believe me when I say that you could never disappoint me, despite the fact that humans weren't designed to be perfect you still work on yourself everyday trying to polish all the rough edges, trying to better yourself not for anyone or anything but yourself because you really want to be better than you were in the past. How could I be disappointed in someone as noble as that?"

You notice that she's now actively fighting to keep her eyes open and you smile. "You okay for now?" She nods and you continue. "Then go to sleep, God knows you both need and deserve a good night's rest. I'll call you back tomorrow when you wake up, so you can tell me about everything else your sleep addled brain forgot to tell me tonight."

Yeji uncovers the other half of her face and eyes stare at her screen that shows your face, now more than ever she wishes she was there with you, to thank you and hold you for everything you've said and for the way you've calmed her down. She promises herself that once you meet back up in person, she'll make it up to you. But for now words will have to do.

"Thank you Y/N. I love you."

Your smile grows wider and Yeji swears she's ready to make a fool out of herself just to ensure that that smile never fades away from your face. You take your a moment to memorize the candid details of Yeji's face before replying. "I love you too Yeji. Good night." Both of you wave goodbye and as heavy of an action it was, you take the initiative to end the call because you know that if you left it up to your girlfriend she would never hit that End Call button.

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Yeji places her phone on the nightstand by her bed.

Y/N lies back down properly on the bed.

The two stare straight ahead of them, eyes unfocused.

They take a deep breath before closing their eyes, ignoring the need that courses through their hearts.

"I'll be with her soon enough."

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A/N: I think this is the longest fic I've written on this app? Why the hell is there too little ITZY content on this app? it feels like drought istg 😭😭

#Hwang Yeji x Reader #ITZY #itzy x reader #Hwang Yeji #reader!insert

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