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rosaliepostsstuff · 3 years

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Sol et luna — The Sun and the Moon | G.W.

(Soulmate!AU)

pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of food and eating, alcohol, vague mention of sex, insecurity

summary: You head out to the countryside with your friends, renting a cabin by the lake for two weeks, during which you notice a correlation between yours and George’s soulmate tattoos, unsure what to do about it.

word count: 9130

tags: @izzyyy-1 ; @amourtentiaa ; @hufflepuffalice ; @slytherclawbitch ; @famdomhideout ; @mollenniumfalcon ; @accioweaslcy ; @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts ; @justasmolballofstress ; @hufflepuff5972 ; @calmspencer ; @pandaxnienke ; @harrysweasleys ; @ickle-ronniekins ; @4amhotchner ; @weasleysprofessionalhoe ; @lunarlovegoodx ; @henqtic ;

a/n: This took me so much time and effort, I’d appreciate any kind of feedback, thank you!

masterlist | taglist form

—⒈—

You gazed out of the car window, sitting in one of the back passenger’s seats. The journey was pleasant, a nice prologue to the vacation you were about to begin – Ginny, Hermione, Angelina and Alicia, your travel companions sharing snacks and blasting muggle pop songs while singing along.

Natural curiosity made you wonder what the atmosphere was like, in the other car – which Fred, George, Lee, Harry and Ron travelled by. They had been driving behind you for some distance, before passing you by and disappearing in the distance – you supposed Fred had a bit too much fun behind the wheel.

It seemed like you’d be lucky with the weather for most of the two weeks of your stay at the cabin – that day was pleasantly warm with just a bit of refreshing wind, and the Sun was shining beautifully in the bright, blue sky.

The whole area around the place you were supposed to be staying at was just stunning. The cabin was by the lake, surrounded by nature, with just a small village nearby – no noise, no pollution – it was really going to be a great vacation.

When you arrived at your destination, the boys’ car was already vacated, parked in the front, some distance from the cabin.

“Took you long enough!” Lee commented, emerging from the front door after hearing the commotion of your group unloading the car. “Why such a hurry?” asked Ginny, pulling her last bag out of the trunk and stepping aside to make room for you. “Yeah, we had a great time..” added Angelina, already carrying her bags inside, and shrugged at him defiantly.

You made it inside with your heavy luggage and did not hesitate to dump it on the floor right after you entered, to have a look around the place. The layout was quite modern – the front door opened into a great open space, which still had a cosy feeling to it. Complete with a lounge area, a dining table to fit all of you, and an open, yet a bit secluded kitchen. Directly opposite the front door, on the far end of the room was a large, glass sliding door, giving you a preview of the back of the house, where you could see a deck, complete with a furniture set. Looking at all the spaces, you couldn’t help but imagine small moments you could have throughout the following fortnight, what sharing a house with your friends would be like.

Most of your friends were downstairs, you heard their bickering in the background as you debated just taking half of your baggage to then come back for the rest, when George approached you, without you noticing. “Want any help?” he asked, with no tease to his tone, nor any exaggerated kindness – merely, as if giving a helping hand was the simplest thing in the world. “Uhm…” you stammered, knowing well you did - but also thinking, you could do this on your own just fine.

George, evidently bored of waiting for your reply for more than two seconds, grabbed the bags with a scoff and a small smile. “Thank you,” you said, genuinely, signalling you had not lost your ability to speak too.

Walking out the back, onto the deck, you could see Fred by the lake. You took a moment, standing by the bannister – listening to the sounds – the very faint sound of water moved by the gentle wind, soft rustle of tree leaves and the birdsongs, undisturbed by anything. You could smell the grass, the trees, the flowers around, as well as the lake water.

You walked down the wooden steps and through the grass field, to the lake, to have a closer look.

Fred was skipping stones, he turned around for a moment when you walked up and smiled, acknowledging your presence – then continued. You watched him closely – there was something satisfying and soothing about skipping rocks, yet you were never able to do that yourself. No matter how many times it was explained to you, you had barely succeeded a couple of times in your life. You’d prefer to avoid sharing that fact about yourself - so for now, you just enjoyed watching Fred do it.

As he threw another rock, it splashed a bit, startling you. You winced a bit at the sudden contact of the cold water against your exposed legs – Fred snickered at you, and you heard George laugh, as he was approaching from behind.

Seeing him once you turned around, you felt the sudden need to explain yourself. “It’s cold,” you said sheepishly, a bit embarrassed, and followed with a chuckle. George scoffed, grinning. “Don’t give us any ideas,” Fred feign-threatened with a mischievous smile, yet you didn’t understand him. “…or you might end up finding yourself in the water,” George followed, looking you straight in the eye with the same expression. You felt a shiver down your spine.

“You wouldn’t…” you pointed out, wanting to believe that and crossed your arms over your chest. Fred and George knew a boundary. Right? George shrugged, continuing his act as he walked up to you. “We’ve got two whole weeks, love,” he said melodically and squeezed you against his side, way tighter than necessary.

When Angelina, Ginny and Harry came back from a grocery run, they gathered the whole house to take a walk around the area together.

Each step you took was as easy as if it was weightless; soaking up the views around you, you breathed in an immense sense of freedom, unobstructed by anything. You had left all worries, responsibilities and expectations at home. The sounds of the surrounding nature paired with the footsteps of the nine people around you were like music to your ears.

“Look, a tree!” Fred gasped in the most obnoxious way, pointing at one, with many other trees around you. Fred Weasley would never admit to be enjoying himself on a simple walk and he evidently found the tranquillity too boring. You could almost feel Angelina’s eye roll to your side before he spoke again.

“Merlin’s beard, a rock!” he exclaimed with another gasp as he looked to the side of the path, keeping his acting level high. “We get it, Weasley, no need to keep going,” Alicia told him. “No, I don’t think you do,” he replied, and the conversation continued.

You smiled to yourself, realising that the two weeks with all of your favourite fools has officially started and you couldn’t wait to see what it would bring.

—⒉—

The next day you woke up quite early, while your roommate, Alicia was still out in her bed. Walking downstairs, you saw that you weren’t the first one up in the house.

Hermione was strutting around the kitchen in her pyjama and dressing gown, with her hair up a bit messily, most likely making breakfast for herself. Sitting by the kitchen island over a bowl of cereal, was George Weasley.

“Morning,” you said quite cheerfully and Hermione said it back with a smile, while George just lifted the fingers of one of his hands in a lazy greeting. The kitchen was neat, all cleaned up after you all had dinner together last night, in a family-like atmosphere. So you fixed a quick breakfast with a mug of warming tea for yourself, and sat down by the island counter too.

Day two was pretty slow, you could tell everyone was just enjoying being able to do nothing, away from home. After lunch, you sat out on the deck with a coffee, following a game of cards played by the boys. It wasn’t a game you knew before, so you did not join them, but enjoyed watching from the sidelines instead, secretly rooting for whoever was doing the best each round and slowly memorising the rules.

Hermione enjoyed reading outside most of the afternoon, unbothered by anything or anyone – one could feel a bit calmer just by looking at her, in her element. Angelina on the other hand, felt inspired to move her usual workout routine out onto the grass, then hung out inside after a shower. Alicia turned back to her old hobby of drawing – Ginny, energetic by nature, seemed to be everywhere at once.

You had volunteered to prepare dinner for everyone that evening, and so did George Weasley. Happy to not have to do everything by yourself, you wondered how much experience he had in the kitchen, it was something you’ve never talked about – maybe he’d inherited Molly’s skills?

Frankly, you’ve never really had much opportunity to hang out with or even talk to George without anyone else around. It only made you more happy and excited – getting to know your friends more personally being added to the list of this vacation’s benefits.

You found George already in the kitchen, examining the contents of the fridge. During a short conversation to decide what you were going to make, you were able to deduce, he did know his way around the kitchen pretty well - just not Molly’s level quite yet.

It seemed that awkward silence did not exist around George Weasley, though it felt odd having such a simple chat with him – just about what’s been going on recently in your lives, or what you were hoping to do throughout the rest of the stay.

As you finished one step of the recipe, you moved over to stand next to George to help him out. You began to peel some veggies for him to chop, when you noticed the tattoo on the front of his left forearm. It caught your eye because it was similar to yours - well visible on your right forearm, resting next to his above the countertop. You found it quite funny at first.

But then you had a closer look.

Your soulmate tattoo. It had appeared on your 18th birthday, and you were pretty lucky it did. According to folktales, one’s soulmate tattoo would appear on midnight of their birthday – but it was never mentioned which one. Some people found out much later in life, some already married and with kids, having married said soulmate or not, some people would die before theirs would etch into their skin.

Yet yours had appeared. Half a full Moon, cut off with a clean line, facing your palm.

His – half a Sun, cut with a clean line, facing up, towards his elbow.

He noticed that you had stopped working. Out of the corner of his eye, he had noticed the two tattoos as well - and once he followed your gaze, he knew, you’d been staring at them.

Would George Weasley be your soulmate? How could he? - it didn’t make any sense. Sure, you got along fine, but you were both so different. What could he possibly see in a girl like you? Not just appearance-wise, but personality. He was wild, funny, charismatic – a breath of fresh air on a hot, sultry day; a rainbow on the plain sky. In comparison to him, you were boring. You’d never even considered George as anything more than a friend, he was just out of your league.

“…Are they… matching?” he asked very slowly.

It was over now. Once he became aware of the similarity, or rather the correlation, the matter became serious, disallowing you to just put it away, until you’d figured out how you feel about it. Did they?

“I- uh… I dunno…” you muttered, struck dumb. “They have to, they wouldn’t-…” George stammered, thinking way quicker than he was able to speak. “They wouldn’t be that similar if they weren’t supposed to match, would they..?” he noted with some confidence in his voice, only making you all the more nervous.

He took notice of your silence and frown, and waited a few seconds more, hoping to see just a glint of enthusiasm break out on your face - but it didn’t.

“You’re disappointed…” he said quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. “No,” you denied almost immediately, shocked by his statement. You, disappointed with him? How much you’d give for a guy like George to see you, to really see you. “No, I-… just thought you probably are,” you mumbled quietly, trailing off the sentence, wishing for that conversation to just stop.

George caught on, however, he opened his mouth to speak, to express himself, but he really didn’t know how – your words just puzzled him. Why would you immediately assume he’d be disappointed to have you as his match?

“We should really get on with it, it’s gonna overcook…” you concluded firmly, glancing at the pot on the stove, closing the previous topic. George didn’t feel in place to drag it further since you clearly didn’t wish to talk. But he was really not pleased with how that conversation had gone, and it left him with this uneasy feeling somewhere in his chest, eating away at him.

—⒊—

It seemed as if your mind was permanently clouded now. You kept shifting between obsessively thinking, about what George being your soulmate would mean, and not believing it was true at all. The Sun and the Moon?

But he was right, the tattoos wouldn’t have that much of a correlation if they weren’t a pair. And as you kept going in circles, each time you came to this conclusion, you felt the nervousness start to take over. How were you supposed to act around him now? Because of that, subconsciously and without thinking, you avoided him – just to not have to wonder about what your interactions should look like.

George gave you space, you were glad he didn’t try to corner you, but during dinners you’d feel his glances on you from time to time - as if he was trying to see through you, to find out what was going through your mind.

It’s been two days, spent awkwardly avoiding George with your eyes every time everyone ate together. Two days of trying to appear busy at all times, so that no one would notice that something’s troubling you, and ask about it.

That night you had trouble falling asleep, your distressed mind wasn’t helping you. The air inside felt stuffy, even with the window open. You gave up, for the time being, kicked off your blanket, put on your slippers. The main room was semi-dark illuminated by strong moonlight coming through the large windows. The Moon was full that night.

Upon opening the glass door you welcomed the slight chill on your skin, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You turned around to close the door behind you when a voice spoke to you.

“Hi,” said George softly, sitting to the side on one of the outside sofas. Your heart almost stopped when you noticed him - the one person you tried to avoid, and you knew it was too late to run away. “Hey,” you replied with a defeated smile, wondering if he was aware. He gestured to the seat next to him, smiling at you, almost shyly.

You were glad the only light came from the Moon in the sky because you could feel yourself shaking slightly, as you walked up to him and took the spot. You sat down and looked ahead, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. You could smell his scent, feel his presence right next to you and it felt like too much to bear, too personal.

“Haven’t seen you around much lately…” he began, vaguely, and you could sense what he was thinking. “I wasn’t avoiding you..!” you blurted without thinking, only realising afterwards, that it made it sound exactly as if you were. He hummed shortly, biting his lip with a small frown.

You sighed deeply and said, “I wasn’t avoiding you,” truthfully, making sure to accentuate the last word. Because you weren’t, you were only avoiding your cluelessness which took over you while you were around him. “Oh,” he replied after a second upon working out what you meant, “…okay,” but did not ask further.

“You know, nothing has to change,” he began, and you turned to him to listen intently. “I mean, don’t force anything. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he continued, bringing you some comfort, yet simultaneously a bit of confusion – what was the custom when finding out you were soulmates with someone? Did people usually throw themselves at each other immediately, that’s why he was saying that?

“We can take this slow, alright?.. Figuring out this whole- ‘soulmate’ thing.” You nodded, not sure what to say, crossing your arms over your chest as the slight chill of the night started getting to you. George looked at you for a bit, thinking, then lifted his arm gently, inviting you in. You ignored the small voice in the back of your head and scootched closer, allowing yourself to be embraced. For the first time, somewhere in the back of your mind, you welcomed the thought of having him as a soulmate.

You stared up at the Moon and it seemed to be staring back. You just couldn’t decide if it was taunting you – pointing out your silly overthinking, or rather comforting you in a motherly way, feeling partially responsible for binding your fate with the one of the man next to you. Why was it the Moon? The Sun – it fit George. Blinding you, only allowing to be admired from afar, yet never to be looked at directly.

“I’d like you to feel comfortable with me… so, whatever’s troubling you, I’m here,” George said with such sincerity, it sent shivers down your back. “… but no pressure,” he hasted to add with a chuckle.

“Thanks, uhm-…” You wondered, would he want to confide in you? “...Same to you.”

—⒋—

The following day, you woke up lighter in spirit. Knowing you could give yourself the time you needed, gradually lifted off the pressure of figuring out where you were standing.

After breakfast, when your friends were occupied inside or still sleeping, you decided to go out into the backyard. As always, welcomed by the birdsongs, you allowed your eyes to feast upon the views for a moment.

Without much thought, you walked up to the lake and as if it were mandatory, crouched to dip the very tips of your fingers in the water.

You saw the rocks by the edge of the water and stared at them for a moment, debating. Fully prepared to fail, you picked a flat-looking one and got up. You took a deep breath, then swinging your wrist – threw it, and with a loud ‘plonk’ it went down.

You heard a muffled snicker behind your back and you turned around instantly, to see George there. “How does this keep happening?!” you exclaimed, as he walked up to you without being able to hold back his grin. “What do you mean?” “You keep walking up behind me without me noticing..!” you explained, beginning to laugh and he chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “I walked out soon after you because I was bored inside, but I couldn’t help myself when I realised you didn’t see me,” George explained, and you accepted it.

“You need to swing it like this,” he instructed with a demonstration. “I know, that’s what I did,” you replied defensively, certain that all the rocks in the world just had a pact against you, not allowing you to skip them.

“Look,” George said, showing you once again how to do it. His rock skipped so many times, you lost count.

“Now you try and let me see,” he told you, watching you closely. You felt a bit of pressure, but even though you knew you’d fail again, you tried. And the rock sunk.

“Is that okay if I show you?” he asked and you didn’t understand at first, before he made a move to stand behind you with one hand on your shoulder and the other over your hand, but waited until you replied.

“O-okay,” you stammered, so he picked out a rock to hand it to you, then moulded your body into the right posture, to then help you throw the rock. You noticed how tiny your hand was in comparison to his. To your amazement, it skipped a solid 4 times.

Both his hands were on your shoulders when you turned around and smiled, beaming at him, and he thought he could get used to it.

“Do you want to try on your own?” he asked, but you couldn’t get a word out, because you didn’t. He nodded, holding back a smirk, then repeated the whole process, and the throw was successful again.

You did try throwing by yourself after that and it was as if the curse has been lifted. Thanks to George you got the swing of it, with each time it seemed easier and easier, and you did better and better.

In a moment of confidence you joked about having a contest – and George, being George, wouldn’t let you back down. But he’d also let his rocks sink right away from time to time on purpose, to then pretend he didn’t know what happened.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, on your way back towards the entrance. It was amazing how nice it felt to be taught something, by someone, who didn’t make you feel inferior. “Anytime,” he replied. “But tell anyone about this…” you changed your tone, to feign seriousness for that threat.

“What’re you gonna do to me, huh?”

A certain sense of companionship was formed between you and George from that moment on, some type of feeling, quite hard to describe.

Your relationship was an odd one now. In any other circumstances, the two of you wouldn’t be close enough to really know you could depend on each other, trust each other with anything. But such a simple thing as a possibility, that you could be destined for each other - by fate, or magic, or whatever it was – changed everything.

You also found yourself paying more attention to him – catching yourself pointing out all the small things you liked about him, in your head. Like his soothing voice, or the facial expressions he’d make.

George sat in a chair next to you during dinner that afternoon. Again – previously, you would’ve seen it as a coincidence, but now you knew it wasn’t. Maybe the fact that you had been the first one to sit down and all the other chairs were empty, contributed.

There were moments where it felt like the two of you were sitting in a separate little room, surrounded by invisible walls. Nobody else noticed when George accidentally made a piece of salad fly right onto his shirt, while you stifled a chuckle – earning a light shove to your legs underneath the table. Throughout the whole meal, from time to time you’d hear him mutter jokes or anecdotes about his brothers when they spoke, while more of your stifled chuckles served as a reward for him.

The next day, Friday, it was very warm right from the morning, and it was only getting warmer as the Sun kept rising. By the time everyone was up and breakfasted, the weather was just perfect to enjoy the lake.

Once you walked out the back door in your swimsuit, you felt a bit more self-conscious about being so exposed – more so than usual, not really understanding the reason behind it.

After setting up your towel next to Angelina, you were content to spend some time just lounging there, maybe reading a bit, while the girl went off into the water.

As you followed her with your eyes, your gaze ended up on George, far away from the shore. His hair soaking wet, water dripping down his face with pure happiness written all over it, with his contagious, soul-lifting smile.

You couldn’t help your eyes wandering down a bit – you’ve had a few opportunities to see George shirtless before, you were perfectly aware of how fit he was. Why was he making such an impression on you now, then?

He turned his head all of a sudden, making you freeze as he caught your eye. He sent a cheeky wink in your direction, with a grin, and you quickly dropped your head. Ugh, why have you done that? It was simply the most awkward thing you could do. But what should you have done? Smile? Wink back? Why did this man have to be so forward, making you flustered?

When you looked back up, he was occupied by something else, once again.

The next day, a few of your other friends and some people invited by the boys were to come by for a party that evening. There were a few more of them than you had expected, most you haven’t even seen before.

The party wasn’t concentrated in one part of the house, there were people all over – you spent the majority of the evening out on the deck with your closest friends and a light drink in hand.

Music was blasting from the inside, but you enjoyed your time away from the main crowd. Your housemates were scattered all over, you saw most of them at least for brief moments – the deck was where everyone headed to cool down.

Once it was dark and the chill started setting in, you came back inside. Seeing George with a group of people – who you assumed were his friends – felt odd. For a second, a thought crossed your mind, that you should be spending this time with him. Everything indicated that you were his soulmates, so you should be bonding, should you not? Why was he in the presence of some other girls, then?

But you shook that off – it was irrational. George was his own person who could have his own friends. Hell, you couldn’t even be sure if he was single..! You stopped your brain from going down that path too, grabbing something to drink, and approached some of your other mates.

For the rest of the night, however, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. It was natural, he looked so good. How could you not have noticed he was that handsome, throughout all those years? And the outfit he had on didn’t help in keeping your eyes away, either.

What you didn’t notice, though, was that his gaze landed on you, from time to time, too. Not once at the same time as you, not once catching your eye, no matter how badly he wanted to. But you just seemed totally uninterested in him.

—⒌—

The next morning, you left your room in your PJs. You passed by Ginny, sitting in the lounge room with a newspaper, lazily skimming the articles. Going into the kitchen, you noticed George having breakfast there, with some girl sitting next to him, leaning into his personal space a bit.

You tensed a bit, feeling hot all of a sudden. Did she spend the night with him, then? Why else would she be there right now? Most people have left right after the party.

“Morning,” George greeted you with a small smile. You almost smiled back genuinely, but then the girl greeted you as well. She was very pretty. “Hi,” you replied, forcing a polite smile, before you turned your back to them, to prepare your breakfast.

The girl continued her sweet talk, trying to keep up the conversation by asking about his shop. She flirted without any shyness, not caring that they weren’t alone in the room. You envied her in a way, you could never bring that kind of confidence out of yourself.

George didn’t seem interested, though. You supposed she wasn’t his friend, after all, but someone else’s and just taken a fancy in him. But the way she talked did not strike with much intelligence.

You dragged out making your food, not wanting to sit down with them, making the situation feel even more awkward. Luckily, once George finished eating, they both went away somewhere. And you didn’t want to think about her all throughout your breakfast, but it was very hard not to.

“Too bad I didn’t wait with having my breakfast,” George said sliding into the seat next to you, startling you a bit. “Why?” you asked, with a slight tone of confusion. “So that I could have it with you,” he replied cheerfully.

“Bimbo not entertaining enough?” you said, regretting it instantly. “Ooof,” you practically heard his shit-eating grin, not daring to look at him as you bit your tongue.

“Aww, are you jealous?” he asked merrily, leaning on the counter, trying to get you to look at him. “No, I have no reason to be.” “If you say so,” he almost sang, teasingly.

“How did you sleep?” you tried desperately to change the topic. It was only afterwards that you realised you could’ve made it even more awkward if he had slept with that girl. “Alright. Can’t sleep for too long after having a bit to drink, though. How about you?” “Yeah, alright too,” you replied, and had no more ideas as to what to say.

Once again surprising you by doing things not at all out of the ordinary, George invited you to have some tea with him outside.

You set your mug of tea down on the table out on the deck, but you stood there for a bit, with your arms crossed on your chest.

“What is it?” George asked, having already sat down on the sofa. “It’s a bit colder than I thought, with the wind. I think I’m gonna run up quickly and get something more to wear.” “There’s my jumper laying somewhere in the lounge, you can take it if you want,” he offered, surprising you a bit. But you did want to.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, turning to the door. “You can put it on in front of the bimbo,” he said after you with a sly smile, making you shake your head, holding back a grin.

But you did, feeling a bit guilty about this childish behaviour. Just a bit, though – it was satisfying.

It gave you a bit of a boost in confidence – and since you were wearing his jumper already, why shouldn’t you sit down right next to him? That’s when you realised – you felt comfortable around George, inside and out. None of it was awkward – the silence, all the things you did or didn’t say; your morning hair or your oily face you haven’t washed yet after waking up.

“It’s been a week now,” George conversed.

Since you noticed your tattoos? That’s a bit of an exaggeration…

“Since we’ve come here,” he added, noticing your puzzled expression. “Have you enjoyed your stay so far?” “It’s gone by quickly,” you replied, frankly, frowning a bit. You didn’t know where all the days have gone. “Oh, we’ve still got a week,” he tried comforting you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Yeah, we do…” you replied, deep in thought, leaning more into his side.

The fact that a full week has gone by was worrying you, that the second one would pass just as quickly. What could you do, to use it to its fullest?

You did not have to wait long for an opportunity to present itself.

Overall, since that conversation on the deck on Sunday morning, George and you would hang out more. Just like the previous day, late in the evening, already in your PJs, you sat with him at the dining table playing various Wizarding games.

You were starting to feel tiredness get to you, everyone else in the house had already gone to their rooms for the night, and your laughs were often followed by yawns you tried hard to suppress.

“Let’s go for a walk,” George suggested out of the blue once you finished a game. “What?” you questioned, wondering if he was just joking. “I don’t wanna go to sleep yet, the night’s warm… let’s go for a walk.”

You studied his face for a moment, but he appeared absolutely serious, looking at you back with a small smile. You glanced outside through the great sliding doors, as if to check if it was really dark, despite knowing the time, then at your attire.

“Go get changed, I’ll wait here,” he convinced you.

Once you were out of his sight you ran up to your room as quick and quiet as possible, then changed, careful not to wake your roommate.

You took the path leading out from the cabin to the forest. You had to admit it was exhilarating. George’s spontaneity awoke something in you, the way he just made up his mind in a second and stuck to it. You’d have never think of taking a nightly stroll through the middle of nowhere, you’d be terrified of doing this alone. But the fact that he was walking next to you, and walking so casually, with his hands in his pockets, made all of that feel just as normal as anything else.

The walk woke you up, the comfortable silence broken from time to time by either one of you.

“Are we going somewhere in particular?” you asked, swaying your hands inside the pockets of your unzipped hoodie. “Nah, not really,” George replied indifferently, shrugging. “But- you’ll remember the way back, right?.. I haven’t been paying attention to where we’re going at all,” you said frankly, as you stepped off the path, walking straight through the forest now

George laughed at this, he found it cute, how you followed him into the forest without any care. “What were you paying attention to, then..?” he asked teasingly, giving you a meaningful smile.

“Nope, not getting dragged into- AAH!!” you screamed, scared by a bird suddenly moving around in leaves on the ground. Instinctively you jumped back and half-hid behind George, grabbing onto his arm. He tried his best to hold in a laugh, as you were coming down from the shock.

“You okay?” he asked, reaching out his other arm to you. You hugged him tightly, hiding your face in his chest. “Now I’m just annoyed I got so startled over some stupid leaves,” you complained after a small groan. You allowed yourself to stay in his arms for a bit longer, feeling those negative emotions leave you as if nothing bad could happen to you there. “That’s alright, happens to the best of us,” he comforted you.

As you pulled away, you made a move to hold onto his arm but he took your hand instead, holding onto it firmly.

“Look,” he said softly after you walked a bit further, pointing with his finger, where between the trees you could see water.

In the opening there was a small lake – it had a mysterious feel about it, seemed long unvisited, the boardwalk a bit old, yet sturdy as ever.

You sat down at the end of it together, above the trees was a perfect view of the sky above the valley, sky littered with stars.

“I should make it a point to stargaze more often,” you admitted, in awe of their beauty. George watched you, face illuminated by the moonlight. “I could remind you from time to time,” he offered.

You dropped your gaze, deep in thought once more. All of that wouldn’t stop once you left the cabin – George would still be in your life, out there, in the real world.

“Mhm… you could,” you agreed, dropping your head to the side, leaning it on his shoulder.

—⒍—

“Soulmates?” asked Alicia in a tone of surprise. “… the two of you?” added Ron doubtfully. “What’s that supposed to mean?” George snapped at his younger brother.

You and George talked the same morning about how it was probably the best time to just tell your friends everything. You were getting more suspicious looks from them, whenever you’d hang out late with George, whenever the two of you would have tea out on the deck together, or when George would make some kind of teasing remark to make you laugh. The looks kept getting bolder too, though none of your mates dared to suggest there was something going on between you. That’s how you went to share the revelation with them during dinner one evening, showing them your tattoos too.

“Maybe just that you have nothing in common..?” Ginny suggested boldly, clearly unpleased with the idea for a reason unknown to you. You glanced at the rest of the table quickly – no one else spoke up, but their faces appeared to say that they agreed with Ginny.

“That’s not true…” you said, getting a bit more emotional than you would’ve wanted, more emotional, than you would’ve expected.

It made you angry, though you couldn’t understand why. You got along with George just fine, so how dare they think you have nothing in common?! What right did they have to have an opinion on whether or not the two of you were meant to be?

“If you say so…” Hermione said softly with a small smile, then frowned at Ginny, silently reprimanding her.

Meanwhile, George was looking at you, judging your reaction – as if checking whether you meant what you said, if you weren’t about to agree with Ginny with a hearty laugh, having all that’s happened yet between you go to waste. Unknowingly, you glanced at him too – you locked eyes for a moment and you exchanged nervous smiles through the ripple between you.

And the rest of the dinner went on in silence.

Surprisingly, no animosity was left afterwards – you still felt a bit watched while around George, but now for a different reason. He, however, did not seem to care one bit.

George floated in the water peacefully, making all appearances that he’s simply relaxing, as most of the cabin’s inhabitants were doing at that moment.

But he was wracking his brain, glancing at you every once in a while – he told himself it was boredom, and getting your attention would be the best way to relieve it. It was like some force, drilling inside him constantly, the inability to leave you be when he saw you lying on your towel in a bathing suit. So he was thinking, thinking of a way to poke the ants' nest that was you.

You did not expect a thing – all of a sudden George ran up to you and scooped you in his arms. The feeling could be pleasant, were you not worried about what he had in his mind.

You yelped in surprise. “What’re you doing..?!” you asked, more as a formality, not expecting to receive an actual answer. “I promised you something when we arrived here,” he replied with mischief written all over him.

“No, George..!” you pleaded, hanging onto the back of his neck as he ran in the direction of the lake and onto the boardwalk. “Yes, George..!” he exclaimed, before jumping off, into the water.

Once you surfaced, he was already above the water, along with his shit-eating grin. “Idiot..! What if I drowned?!” you shouted, trying to keep serious, but it was hard to keep yourself from laughing. “Come on, I wouldn’t have let you,” he reassured you, making your heart thump for some reason.

He flashed you another dazzling smile, before swimming off on his back.

“I’m not swimming after you!” you called, before heading out of the lake.

Slight goosebumps appeared on your skin once you were out of the water, but you were not cold. Getting a drink of water, you heard splashing behind your back – signalling someone was coming out of the water.

A pair of footsteps was definitely approaching you, until you felt George’s big hand on your waist, making your skin tingle, as he stood next to you.

“You’re not really upset, are you?” he asked with a small smile, just to make sure, as you took another sip. “No,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the bottle you were closing now.

Then, suddenly, he leaned down and kissed you on the cheek. “Good,” he concluded, before walking off again.

You looked at his back, dumbfounded. He just left you there, puzzled, and weirdly lightheaded.

—⒎—

You looked around the room – the room in which you’ve made a bit of your own space, even though you’ve not spent all that much time in there, throughout all of your stay. The inside was brightly lit up by the sunlight pouring in through the open windows, the light wind swaying the curtains, but you didn’t feel like staying there.

Outside the room, there was nobody, you knew your housemates were somewhere else, in one of the rooms.

The downstairs was peaceful, all the windows along with the back sliding doors open, inviting nature in and calling you to go outside. Going down the steps, you judged it must’ve been late afternoon on a sunny day – the kind of sunlight that does not suffocate with heat but allows you to enjoy the outside and somehow makes everything look more beautiful.

Then you noticed George there, standing by the door – he turned around to face you, smiling right away, making your heart swell. You wanted to run up to him, drown in his arms.

He told you there was no time to lose, you should go outside and enjoy the time you have left, so you gave him your hand and allowed yourself to be pulled outside, through the deck and onto the plain grass by the lake.

You regretted not having spent more of your time admiring those views around – the mountains, the trees and various other plants. Everything was blossoming, despite it being the middle of summer – flowers all around you, on the trees and shrubs, flowers in the grass George was now pulling you onto.

You sat side by side on the grass, holding hands still, and his hand in yours felt like nothing else. The warmth of it – entirely non-physical – was so great, so extraordinary, and it seemed to radiate all throughout your body to your very heart.

And your heart, it felt as if it was about to stop and as if this was the only way it could function now, looking at him. His smile, his happiness felt like the sole fuel that could power your being and in a moment, you knew there was nothing you wouldn’t do, to make that man happy.

He looked at you adoringly, how you wished you’d have at least a fraction of the size in his eyes as he has in yours.

Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. – you repeated, though the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth.

But he’d heard them – shifted closer to you and placing his hands on your waist, rendered you hopeless. With great difficulty, it seemed, you placed yours on his shoulders – and it felt unlike any other similar action, that simple touch made you feel so connected. How you wished to have more, as his lips were coming closer and closer, excruciatingly slow.

Almost there.

“Y/N..” you heard a female voice from behind the same moment as you closed your eyes, but you didn’t pay attention, you were too close now, you had to kiss him.

“Y/N, wake up,” the voice repeated, and everything was gone – the sunshine, the grass, George too.

You groaned in frustration, rolling onto your stomach and hiding your face in your pillow. “What,” you grumbled against the material.

Alicia chuckled, “It’s kinda late, sleepyhead,” she replied, before stepping out of the room.

To say you were confused was an understatement. Frankly, you were annoyed, you just couldn’t be sure at what exactly.

Was it at yourself? At your brain, for making you dream that dream? – Why would you dream about George this way, why would you feel about him that way in a dream, it didn’t make any sense – and it frustrated you, even making you embarrassed a bit. How were you supposed to look him in the eye now? Or was your annoyance the result of the dream ending? Because it felt so wonderful? Because that short, single dream you didn’t even get to experience a kiss in, felt better than any romance you’ve ever had in real life?

Only downstairs, Fred and George were, to avoid boredom, teasing their little brother in a childish game, tossing his wand lazily between themselves. Ron, at first even tried to get it back, but he was losing motivation, thinking they would have to give it back eventually.

“Hey,” you greeted everyone quietly, walking down the steps, headed to the kitchen.

“Aaay, look who’s up!” exclaimed Fred. “Sleeping beauty,” added George, making your cheeks heat up suddenly.

Ron seized his chance, snatching his wand back, to both twins’ dissatisfaction.

It was pretty late, you’ve noticed, glancing at the wall clock – everyone else was already up.

The girls were having coffee at the table. Joining them with your breakfast, you’ve noticed they were chatting about how none of them was ready to leave the vacation to go back to their daily life at home.

“It’s brilliant here,” Ginny admitted with a bit of a pout. “If we could just stay here, life would be great, I mean, look,” she pointed at you with a chuckle, and you showed her your tongue teasingly. “Had such a good sleep?” she asked. “Just great,” you replied with a snort.

Once another slow day was starting for you, you took a bit of time for yourself. After everything that’s been happening those last few days, you needed to let yourself think.

Going over and over your thoughts, as the sun travelled along the sky, you finally allowed yourself to come to conclusions. It was all intense, feeling as if long months have been condensed into a few short days. As if the most important moment got concluded in a single sentence. So what would happen if you’d missed a bit?

At first, George felt a shift. As if something changed in your pace, and now you were always a step ahead of him. Always slipping away.

Until it seemed like a whole earthquake, when he started feeling as if he was a stranger to you. Fully deprived of you.

It was on Friday afternoon, when Fred came up to him outside, wanting to discuss some business matters. Even interaction with Fred seemed unsatisfying to George at that moment, when it felt like a piece of him was missing.

He was humming and nodding in response, tracing fingers over his tattoo absentmindedly.

“Getting the silent treatment, are you?” Fred quipped with a raised brow, giving up his attempts at a serious conversation. “Huh?” George was pulled out of his thoughts. He scoffed, “I guess.” “And what did you do, dear brother of mine?” Fred leaned back in his seat, expecting an amusing confession. Instead, George frowned a bit sadly, “I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’,” Fred repeated, “have you tried asking?” he asked dully. “No.” “Why?” he questioned, confused by his brother’s behaviour.

“I don’t… We’re not…” George shook his head. “Do I have any right to? She’s allowed to do what she wants,” he sighed, fiddling with his hands a bit frustratedly. “Soo, what do you have to lose, huh?” Fred asked simply.

George thought for a moment. Reluctantly, he agreed with Fred, admitting to himself that not having asked you sooner was probably stupid of him.

The very same day, before dinner, he tapped you on the shoulder gently. “Can we talk? After dinner, outside?” he asked quietly, not wanting to attract anyone else’s attention. He didn’t fail to notice how you avoided his gaze, hesitating to answer. “Okay,” you finally replied, getting into your seat, disappearing inside your bubble hastily.

It was hard for you to focus on your meal and your appetite was barely there. You pretended to follow everyone’s conversation, sipping from your glass from time to time with a friendly smile.

Your heart was thumping wildly, as you kept glancing at your friends’ plates – judging the time left before the dinner would be considered over.

—⒏—

The Sun was setting, lighting up the sky with pinks and oranges. You could almost look at it – half of it hidden below the line of the horizon, only half visible. It was soothing.

George walked up to the edge and leaned his elbows on the bannister, looking out at the nature all around.

“Did something happen?” he asked, getting the question out rather quickly. “No,” you answered, feeling deep down that it was a lie, as you walked up to him. “Are you okay?” he continued, looking at you this time, almost frustrated. “Yes,” you lied again, trying to sound persuasive.

He sighed quietly, turning away from you again. “You… you’ve been avoiding me again, haven’t you..?” he said, with hurt in his voice.

You felt so selfish at that point. You were thinking about yourself all this time, seeing George as the one who always initiated things, who always strikes up conversations. You didn’t take any time to consider how your distancing yourself would make him feel.

“You’re right, I’m sorry…” “Why? Have I done something?” he questioned again, with his heart-wrenching sincerity. “No..!” you hasted to let him know. He didn’t interrupt again but just stood there, leaning on the wooden bannister, hoping to get an explanation that would soothe his heart.

“You’ve done nothing wrong. In fact, you’ve been great, this whole time,” you began opening your heart to him. “I’ve noticed myself starting to fall for you. That’s when my doubts started coming back to me.”

George’s facial expression was unreadable, showing his pleasure upon hearing about your feelings for him, along with worry about those doubts you’ve been having.

“It’s just that… I still don’t know if we should be so sure, about us being soulmates? I’d love for it to be you, I really do, but what if it’s not?” you paused, allowing that sickly cold feeling to sink in again. “What if we started going out, maybe we could even be happy - but what if 2 years, 5 or 10 years from now, you find your other half of the Sun? What then?!”

“Who cares about stupid Sun?! What if it’s the Moon I want? It’s the Moon that always draws me in. It’s the Moon’s beauty I’m always admiring. It keeps on changing, and each yet each of its phases is just as mesmerising as the other,” he recited, full of emotion, having your eyes well up with tears.

“I care about the Sun. It’s always there, bringing me warmth, comfort, happiness… It’s got better and worse days, sometimes being dimmed by the clouds, but I’m the happiest-“ you paused, having to take a deep breath to keep your tears from falling. “-when it’s shining bright. And my world would be forever dark without it.”

George turned his head away and looked up into the sky, trying to keep himself together. As the Sun set fully, it magnified the silence around you, despite birds, crickets and cicadas in the distance. A single tear fell down your cheek and you wiped it with your hand quickly.

“Well, you know there’s a way to find out,” George stated. It confused you, however, there wasn’t a way you knew of – there was barely any information regarding soulmates, circling around, wizard to wizard. Perhaps if you went to the library and browsed some books on that type of magic, you’d find out more. And if he knew of a way, why has he only mentioning it now?

“You don’t…” he noted. “I thought you did, that’s why I-…” “Well, what is it?” you asked impatiently, as everything indicated he was telling the truth.

George got visibly flustered, something unusual for him. He had trouble getting himself to look you in the eye, even. “The tattoos are supposed to… tingle, or something like that, when… the soulmates kiss for the first time.” “Oh,” you managed to get out, hearing a faint ringing in your ears.

Why did he have to say that? – you thought to yourself. Some first kisses happened suddenly, in the moment, some with a bit of nervousness, after chasing around each other for a while – but this felt pressuring – you wished he would’ve just kissed you first.

But then the real fear struck you – with the real possibility of finding out whether or not you were soulmates, you were scared of it. You were scared of it not being George, as he stood, now in front of you, waiting for anything else from you.

“Say something,” he pleaded in a whisper. “I’m scared. I want it to be you,” you replied, barely audibly, not daring to look him in the eye.

That’s when he bent down a bit, cupping your face in his hands to look into your eyes. You surrendered under his gentle gaze, so dear to your heart. He saw that, reading you like an open book, and leaned in quickly to connect your lips. You jerked away, however, after they barely touched, having felt an incomparable to anything else kind of sensation, right where the other half of your Moon’s circle should be.

“What was that?!” George asked between laughs, party out of relief, partly just seeing you jump around as a giggling mess.

You jumped at him, throwing yourself at his neck, pressing your face into his shoulder. He squeezed you back just as tight, picking you up to twirl you around, eliciting more heartfelt laughs of pure joy out of you, reaching right into the depths of his heart. You both knew now.

“So am I gonna get a real one now?” he asked with hope in his voice. “Mhm,” you hummed happily in reply.

Looking into his eyes once you’d finally allowed yourself to open your heart to him, you felt almost dizzy. You couldn’t help the grin on your face, seeing how he looked at you, placing both his hands on your waist, getting used to having you within his reach, to feeling you underneath his fingertips. His lips were slightly chapped but ever so sweet and loving. He wished this kiss could last forever, but your soaring heart said otherwise. You felt a smile creeping onto your face until you could not fight it anymore, beginning to giggle.

George shook his head gently with a charming smile. Glancing at your forearm, however, he could not believe his eyes.

There, instead of a lonely half a Moon, was his part of the Sun attached to it, creating a whole. He lifted his own arm, to reveal the exact same image.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction

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hellodeedles · 3 years

Text

Dancing in the Dark

The bass of the song playing over the speaks pounds through Aelins head as she nods along to it happy to get lost in the music already a little tipsy. Half of the reason she comes to these parties is for the chance to let loose and dance the night away to the music. The other half, though she would never admit it to anyone, is for the guy leaning against the wall across the room laughing at something Fenrys just said. Rowan. He looks good tonight, dressed in ripped black jeans and a casual green shirt that shows off the tattoo that travels from his neck down his left arm.

Rowan had been her best friend ever since he plopped himself down in the desk next to her, in their mandatory freshman year history class. They had almost gotten kicked out of class that first day when Aelin couldn’t stop herself from cackling at all of the comments he was making under his breath about their professors eccentric teaching methods.

Aelin smiles to herself remembering the grin he gave her when they were openly called out, in that five hundred person lecture hall for disrupting the lesson. Rowan had apologized and promised that they would be quieter, then he rolled his eyes at her once the professor went back to flapping his hands around while making dramatic statements about well known historical facts. Aelin thinks she may have started to fall in love with him then. She makes her way across the room towards Rowan and her smile growing bigger as she nears. Rowan notices her first and opens his arm to pull her into his side.

“What do we have here?” She asks wrapping her arm around his middle as his arm settles on her shoulder. “Rowan Whitethorn laughing at something Fenrys said? I never thought I’d see the day.” Aelin loses all sense of thought as she feels Rowans fingers starting to play with the end of her hair. He had started doing it recently and every time he did it makes her heart skip a beat and her breathing become a little rapid.

Fenrys gapes at her. “Excuse me! I am hilarious, everyone laughs at my jokes.”

“I don’t.” Lorcan says coming out of nowhere with his girlfriend Elide in tow. “In fact, I don’t think you’re funny at all.”

“We’ll thats because you have no taste. Except when it comes to women. Hi Elide, looking lovely as always.” Lorcan scowls at that while Elide giggles.

“Hi Fenrys.”

Rowan grins and looks down at Aelin and nods in the direction of the kitchen just as Lorcan starts to tell Fenrys for the thousandth time not to hit on his girlfriend. Aelin smiles to herself happy to allow Rowan to pull her along with him, his hand going from around her shoulder to her hand as they begin to navigate the large group of people blocking the entrance to the kitchen.

They make it to where the drinks are being served by Fenrys twin Connall. Rowan grabs a cup of beer and passes it to Aelin never letting go of her hand. Aelin doesn’t mind at all. They stand in silence as they each take a few sips of their drinks, content to be in each other’s company.

The music is quieter in here but still Rowan leans down and says in her ear, “I like your outfit.” Aelin smirks internally. She knew exactly what she was doing when picking out the gold silk top earlier this evening. “Thanks, a little birdie told me I look good in gold.”

He smirks down at her as his hand slides out of hers and over to her waist his thumb brushing the small sliver of skin that her tank top exposes. Aelins breath catches in her throat as she looks up at Rowan. He chuckles. Apparently, Rowan knows exactly what he was doing too.

The lines between the two of them had started to blur over the last year ever since she finally dumped Chaol. The casual touching, late night conversations, one on one hangouts, were only getting more and more frequent. Aelin didn’t know what to make of it. There were some days when she was absolutely positive that Rowan wanted more than just friendship, hell their position now him towering over her, practically hiding her from the view of the rest of the party as his free hand held her hip, and her hand placed delicately on his chest, screamed it, but he never said anything to her to make her think otherwise. The two of them had always danced around the topic of them, it seemed to her.

Rowan brings his drink up to his mouth to take another sip his eyes never leaving hers. A drop of beer slips past the lip of the cup and appears on his lower lip. Aelins tongue swipes over her bottom lip subconsciously wiping that drop away. Rowans eyes track her movement and he bites his bottom lip. He opens his mouth to say something when-

“Aelin!”

Aelin snaps back to reality and steps out of Rowans towering embrace looking around for the person who called her name. Rowan frowns but lets Aelin pull away from him as she turns. His hand finds hers again though and her heart gives a little jump. Rowan has had more to drink than she thought if he’s touching her this much. He never touches her this much when there are other people around.

“Sam, hey, how are you?” She asks finding a boy from one of her classes making his way over to her.

“I’m great! I missed you in Anatomy the other day. You should have been there. Hammonds was wearing the most ridiculous outfit. I almost spit my water out when she walked into the auditorium.”

“Oh yeah. I’m sorry I missed it I wasn’t feeling super great.” A lie, she had skipped to hang out with Rowan at his apartment to watch a new show that had just come out.

Aelin could feel Rowans eyes slide over to her fully aware of her lie. She ignores him keeping her attention on Sam. The song changes and she hears ROXANNE come on.

“Ooh, I love this song,” Sam says. “Come dance with me.”

Aelin nods, handing her drink to Rowan without looking at him. She needs to get away from him and the alcohol before she does something stupid like kiss him. Sam grabs her now empty hand and pulls her back into the living room onto the makeshift dance floor.

Sam starts to move the music, not entirely with the beat. Sam has never been a good dancer and each time they are at a party together he asks her to dance and each time Aelin swears he gets worse and worse. Aelin laughs at him and Sam laughs with her completely aware of his horrible dancing skills. Aelin gets lost in the beat of the song, closing her eyes and moving to the music. The song ends and another one seamlessly starts up continuing the never ending noise. Aelin stays and continues to dance with Sam having too much fun losing herself in the music once again.

“Is Whitethorn going to kill me for stealing you away?” Sam asks a few songs later.

“What?” Aelin asks opening her eyes. Sam nods over to the other side of the room where Rowan is standing glaring at the two of them. His face softens when he notices her looking at him. She glares at him.

“No of course not,” Aelin says turning back to Sam. “He doesn’t own me I can dance with whoever I want.”

Sam nods but takes a small step back putting a little bit of space between the two of them. Aelin huffs and rolls her eyes but doesn’t comment. She stays and dances with Sam until a song comes on that she doesn’t really like. Aelin tells him she’s going to get another drink. Sam smiles and bows at her thanking her for dancing with him. Aelin smiles at him as she makes her way off the dance floor towards the kitchen completely ignoring Rowan in the process.

She walks right up to the makeshift bar and pours herself a shot of cheap tequila. She doesn’t have to look to know that Rowan has followed her. Just as she downs the shot, he comes up beside her taking her glass and pouring himself one.

Neither one of them says anything.

"Why don’t you ever dance with me?” Rowan asks after a few minutes of tense silence

“What?” Aelin turns towards him and raises her eyebrows.

“You always dance with him or someone else whenever we come to one of these,” he says not turning to look at her but glaring at the wall.

“That would be because he actually asks me to dance Buzzard,” she responds getting really annoyed with him now.

Rowan stops his staring contest with the wall and looks over at her and smirks as he steps closer. “Well if I had known that it was that easy princess, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Aelin scoffs at him as his hands go to her waist again his thumb finding that small bit of exposed skin again. Aelin knows that Rowan can feel the goosebumps that appear with every pass of his finger.

Aelin is suddenly angry. He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to touch her like this, get pissed off when someone else asks her to dance. She is single and she does not belong to him. He is her best friend and that is it.

Aelin shoves his hands away. “What are you doing.”

Rowan stiffens. “I thought it was obvious.”

Aelin doesn’t think it is. It’s not like Rowan has ever said anything to her that would indicate that he wanted more. His actions though, especially tonight, say something else. That has always what has confused her more than anything. His words and actions always contradicting each other. Then again Rowan has never been once for words. He has always let his actions speak for him.

Aelin looks at him considering, her anger slowly fading into curiosity to see where this would go and says, “If you want to dance with me Whitethorn, then ask me to dance.”

Rowan steps closer to her, “Aelin Galathynius, will you dance with me?” Aelin nods lost for words with how he is looking at her. She allows him to lead her back to the dance floor where he takes her hips in his hands and pulls her close until she her front is flush with his. Her arms instinctively wrap around his neck. A new song starts up and they begin to move to the beat practically grinding on each other due to their position.

This is nothing like dancing with Sam. Rowans eyes never leave hers the intensity of his stare draws her in, in a way that she can’t look away. All she can feel is the beat of the music and the small puffs of Rowans breath on her face. She bites at her bottom lip when she notices his eyes flickering down to her mouth. Rowan licks his lips in response.

The song changes and timing of the music picks up slightly. They move seamlessly with the change in pace his eyes now completely focused on her mouth.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says.

Aelins mouth parts with his statement. Completely at a loss for words she just nods. The pair have slowly stopped moving as they stand in the middle of the crowded dance floor. Rowans green eyes darken as he leans down. His lips just barely brush hers. Aelin makes a small noise in the back of her throat before she raises herself up her toes kissing Rowan fully. Rowan kisses her back with such enthusiasm, she can barely believe it. Aelins hands slide from his neck up into his hair pulling slightly as Rowan tightens his grip on her hips then sliding down into the back pocket of her jeans.

Aelin opens her mouth for him at the first brush of his tongue. She sighs into the kiss as she feels Rowans tongue in her mouth. The people around them, the music, the world fades as Aelin stands there kissing Rowan. Aelin thinks that she could die right here right now she's so happy. Rowan smiles into the kiss ruining the intensity of it but Aelin is too lost in bliss to care, this has been everything she has been waiting for with each and every touch he has given her over the last year. Too soon Rowan pulls away smiling like a fool.

“How was that?” He asks her a little shy for the first time tonight.

“I think you should ask me to dance more often buzzard.” Rowan laughs at her shaking his head.

“I think I should too.” Then he kisses her again and this time neither pulls away for a long while.

#rowan x aelin #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #aelin #rowan #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fluff #best friend #mutual pining

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freaoscanlin · 3 years

Text

Put It On the List

3283 words, rated PG. Clint/Laura, Laura & Natasha, Natasha & Clint.

A few months before the events of Captain America: Winter Soldier, the spy life interrupts the Barton family on a normal errand. Perhaps bringing the scary ex-Russian spy was a mistake. She thinks so, at any rate.

A/N: I wrote this as something of a prelude to an Endgame fix-it fic in progress. It predates everything in that fic and it's cute, so I'm tossing it up here for now.

“Everybody’s allowed one fun item, too. House rules.”

“Not sure they sell anything I consider fun here,” Natasha said, glancing up at the rafters dubiously, “but I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Dirty,” Clint said, walking by with a green bunch of bananas.

“Sorry we can’t provide more excitement than grocery shopping,” Laura said as she pulled out the stash of reusable bags from the trunk.

“It’s fine.”

Laura was of the opinion that a vacation should be taken somewhere exotic, or at least filled with bottomless alcoholic beverages, especially given as young and unfettered as Natasha was. But the woman who had recently become Captain America’s partner at SHIELD had apparently decided a week off merited a trip to Iowa and she had been absolutely content to tag along on family outings with no apparently sign of boredom at all.

“It’s okay,” Clint said, hopping out from the driver’s seat as Natasha unhooked Lila from her car seat. “Nat’s secretly boring at heart. It’s the best kept secret at SHIELD.”

Natasha gave him a puzzled look. “Now, that can’t be true if even you’ve figured it out.”

“Excellent burn,” Laura said, laughing. “You really should come stay more often.”

“Somebody needs to keep Cap in line, otherwise I would.” Nat easily swung Lila onto her hip, following the other three as Cooper grabbed onto his father’s hand.

Laura had already spent the entire dinner the night before peppering her with questions about working with Steve Rogers, the Captain America from the comments. Clint had mentioned him a few times after that kerfuffle in New York with the Chitauri (“Nice guy, wears khakis.”), but Natasha had the inside scoop. And more willingness to share if he was as attractive in person as he looked on TV in that ridiculous star-striped uniform (“If you like that square-jawed All-American sort of thing, sure.”). Laura had even pointed out that, hey, if he was single...

“Yes, the ex-Russian spy and the American war hero. It sounds too much like a bad eighties movie.” Natasha had helped herself to more creamed corn. “I think I’ll have to find him a girlfriend to avoid ever having to answer that question again.”

“Hey,” Laura had said, protesting.

“Fair,” Clint had agreed.

And now here was the ex-Russian spy herself tagging along at the grocery store, carrying Lila and looking like there wasn’t anyplace else she’d rather be than the big chain grocery store a few towns over because they had a better selection of gluten free snacks than the Shop A Lot back home. She trailed along as Clint took over the cart, Lila kicking her legs happily from the child’s seat atop.

“You’ve got the list?” Laura asked.

“I thought you had it?”

“Clint, I said you need to grab it off the fridge before we left. Weren’t you listening?”

“I always listen to you. But it wasn’t on the fridge, so I thought you had it.”

“That’s ridiculous, I put it there last night and—” Laura turned to see Natasha silently holding it out, eyebrows high. “Oh, that works. Thanks, Natasha.”

A half-shrug. “He would’ve forgotten it.”

“They’re impugning my honor,” Clint told Lila and Cooper, the former of whom giggled back at him. “What’s first? Edible or not edible?”

“Food first. Oh, hey, did you remember to put the popsicle sticks on here? Cooper’s day camp was asking people to donate supplies, and I put us down for those.”

“Yes, I absolutely did that. For no reason whatsoever, may I see the list?” Clint grabbed it away and underhandedly passed it to Natasha. Since Laura caught the move, she figured they weren’t actually trying to hide it.

When the list returned to her, “popsicle sticks” was written on the appropriate line in slightly loopy handwriting. “Cute,” Laura said. “Also, if there’s food you want that we don’t have at the house, make sure you put it in, Nat.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Just keep it in mind.” Laura smirked. “Everybody’s allowed one fun item, too. House rules.”

“Not sure they sell anything I consider fun here,” Natasha said, glancing up at the rafters dubiously, “but I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Dirty,” Clint said, walking by with a green bunch of bananas.

Natasha rolled her eyes at him, but a small smile broke out when Laura laughed. Later, Laura noticed that a small bag of nectarines had been added to the cart.

Normally she did this errand without two spies in tow, which was a matter of getting the groceries as quickly as possible and especially speeding through the aisles with the brightly colored boxes that would make Cooper and now Lila whine. Clint’s paycheck was more than generous enough to cover their expenses, but she liked to keep the sugar down at least a little. Grocery trips could be a nightmare from that alone. But now she could send one of them down the danger aisles, while the other distracted the children.

She could get used to this.

Of course, she could have just sent Clint or even Natasha to do the shopping—or gone herself—and she imagined they’d have it done in less than a fifth of the time it took them to wander the aisles now. But Clint had been called on so many SHIELD missions lately that it was nice to just have some family time together.

She was about to suggest they hit up the putt putt course on the way home when Clint’s body language snapped into readiness. On the other side of the cart, Natasha turned away in what most people would deem a casual fashion, but Laura was surprised to see tension running across the line of her shoulders as well.

Instantly, she began to turn her head, to see what had set them both off.

“Don’t look,” Natasha said, Clint echoing her a split-second later.

Cold panic sprang up, but Laura froze in place. The air conditioning turned abruptly frigid. In the basket, Lila had conked out, wheezing a little, and Laura had never been so grateful for her daughter’s ability to fall asleep anywhere.

“This way,” Clint said in a murmur, scooping up Cooper. To strangers, it would never look out of the ordinary, but Laura knew her husband too well to be fooled. And his partner, too, apparently, for she could sense something amiss as Natasha fell in step behind her. At the end of the aisle, away from the registers and most of the store, Clint began shoving aside various things in the cart to deposit Cooper in there. He glanced at Laura. “It’ll be okay, honey. Nat, are they here for you or me?”

“Me.” The word was flat. “They’re scoping out women.”

“Who? Who’s here for what?”

She’d seen Clint and Natasha’s silent conversations before, usually at holiday dinners, but those were always warm and amused. Now, Laura was treated to the fact that they seemingly had their own entire language—and the ability to hold arguments with little more than a few nods and pointed looks.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Cooper asked. “Dad put the stuff back wrong.”

“I know. It’s okay, though. The store employees will know where to put it back properly.” Her pulse had begun to hammer, but Laura did her best to keep her hands steady as she petted Lila’s bent head.

“Fine, you win,” Natasha said, the first words she’d spoken aloud. “Where?”

“Northeast corner, break room.” Clint collected an oversized bucket of licorice, and as Laura and Cooper gawked at him, popped it open and dumped the individually wrapped candies into the cart.

Natasha dropped her phone into it and grabbed Laura’s purse.

“What? Hey, don’t—”

Natasha pulled out a few items, including Laura’s phone. This she dumped in the bucket. An unfamiliar black box, she tossed to Clint. Laura stared mournfully at the shimmery blue phone case bought off of Etsy only last week as the entire bucket was hidden on a shelf behind a case of gum. Clint tossed his hooded jacket to Natasha, gave Laura one brief, heart-stopping look, tousled Cooper’s hair, kissed Lila on the head, and strode off without looking back.

“We were followed,” Natasha said in an undertone, pulling the hood over her distinctive hair.

Followed could mean anything from evil assassins to space aliens at this point, and both of those options led to nauseating conclusions. But Natasha shot her a look, so Laura nodded and swallowed back any panic. And then she changed again, quicksilver just like Clint, so that she was bright and happy Auntie Natasha once more. She picked up Cooper out of the basket and held onto his hand, swinging it cheerfully. “Time to play a new fun game. It’s called ‘Let’s be invisible.’”

“How do you play?”

“Our job,” and Natasha actually hunkered down so that she was on eye level with Cooper, “is to get all the way there,” she pointed to the back of the store, “as fast as we can without running. Because if we run, we won’t be invisible anymore.”

“This is a silly game, Auntie Nat.”

“That’s half the fun, isn’t it? Shh, come with me.” Natasha rose and made brief eye contact with Laura, then headed down the aisle in the opposite direction from Clint. She walked briskly, but not fast enough to draw attention, and Laura had to follow. “Clint’s scoping things out,” she said in a low voice as Laura caught up with the sleeping Lila. “He’ll be fine. I’m taking you and the kids to hide.”

“Are you going to stay with us?”

“You’ll be safe.”

So that was a no. Because she knew her friend well enough, she knew Natasha was tense and watchful, but not a single thing about her betrayed that fact. Natasha didn’t lead them straight to wherever they were going, either. They crossed the store through random aisles, first through the art department and then sporting goods, and Laura’s heart sank as she noticed they were approaching the toy department. They were never escaping without at least one meltdown.

But Natasha surprised her by leaning down and whispering something to Cooper that had him giggling. And right on through they went without a single problem.

“Shh,” Natasha said to Cooper as she pushed open the door to a break room. She peeked inside, then jerked her head for Laura to follow.

“What are we doing, Auntie Nat?” Cooper asked as Natasha immediately climbed onto a table and reached for the ceiling.

“New part of the game,” Natasha said.

Laura looked at the human-sized trap door she’d opened and thought Oh no.

“You get to go up there,” Natasha said. “And it’ll be like hide and seek.”

Cooper’s expression suddenly shouted that he found the prospect of invisibility much less enchanting now. “It looks scary.”

“I’ll be with you,” Laura said. “The whole time. We’ll be invisible together, okay?”

“You first, and I’ll hand them up,” Natasha said.

Laura clambered gingerly onto the table, wishing she’d worn better shoes for this. She put her foot into Natasha’s cupped hands and hauled herself into a very, very dusty vent. Darkness surrounded her and she thought Oh, no. Cooper needed a nightlight on the best of nights. Her son was far cleverer than most; even with Natasha’s easy cheer, he could clearly tell something was off. And if he began crying, Lila was bound to wake as well. Keeping them both quiet would be beyond impossible.

Natasha passed Lila up first, and the toddler barely even stirred. Before she could lift Cooper, she hopped off the table and down to his level. Laura couldn’t hear what she said, but she saw Cooper nod and hold his arms up, completely trusting.

When Natasha lifted him up into the vent, he had his chubby little fist wrapped around a little flashlight. Laura hadn’t even seen Natasha pull that from the shelf, though she recognized it as being from sporting goods. Cooper waved it about, wildly.

“I couldn’t grab much,” Natasha said, hauling herself up so that she hung half off the trap door. Laura would kill for that kind of core strength. She slid over two coloring books and crayons. “Sorry about that. Stay here until Clint or I come to get you. If somebody comes in, we’re invisible, right?”

“Invisible,” Cooper agreed, scrambling for the coloring books.

“Good man.” Natasha reached up to ruffle his hair like Clint had done. She glanced about the air vent in a distinctly sardonic way. “Cozy.”

“Stay safe.”

“Will do.” She raised an eyebrow at Laura, and disappeared down the hatch. A few seconds later, the trapdoor slid back into place, leaving Laura in a dark vent with her children and no cell phone to keep them company.

She had to remind herself that they were lucky something like this hadn’t happened before, though that felt like cold comfort when everything smelled like dust. She shifted the sleeping Lila in her arms. “Here, set it here,” she said, helping Cooper open the coloring book. “What shall we color first, huh?”

* * * *

Nearly eleven minutes later, Natasha knelt down next to the man she’d cornered in Home and Garden and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Coincidence.”

“Yup.” Clint sounded close to laughter, the traitor.

“The whole thing. Coincidence.”

“Looks that way.”

Natasha sat down hard on the bottom shelf, which held giant sacks of birdseed. Slamming his head into those rather than the concrete floor was probably the only reason the thug was even still breathing. She’d need to hide the body soon, and alert SHIELD, but she had a few minutes to recover. The cell phone she’d stolen out of his pocket after their fight didn’t show an image of her, as she’d expected, but a completely random woman who looked nothing like Natasha outside of being the same height.

It had definitely been a hit, but she hadn’t been the target.

At least they’d saved some random woman, so there was that.

“We should’ve known they weren’t here for you when there were only two of them,” Clint said over the earpiece. He’d teased her about stashing them in Laura’s purse before they left, the traitor. And look who’d been correct to do so. It had kept them in contact as he’d stalked his own target back to the clearance section in the back. “Mine’s taken care of. You?”

“One minute.” She hauled the man bodily onto the shelf and tossed sacks of birdseed over him.

“I’ll get the phones and swing by to steal the surveillance. You fetch Laura and the kids.”

Natasha winced. The last thing she wanted to do was face Laura after ruining this outing for everybody. “I think they’d rather see their daddy after being stuffed in a dark place out of nowhere.”

“Nah, Auntie Nat is just as good,” Clint said. “Face it, you’re part of the family now, god help you.”

“Yeah, part of the family that can’t even let us go grocery shopping without disaster striking.”

There was a warm laugh from the other side of the comms. “Disaster? This is nothing compared to getting two small children through the cereal aisle without a tantrum, Romanoff.”

Natasha, reaching up to fix the braids that had become disordered during the scuffle, wrinkled her nose. She debated whether or not to swing by the staff restrooms on the way and clean up the lucky hit the thug had landed, but decided it was more important to get la familia Barton out of the vents quickly. The less time the children spent in a dark, scary place, the better.

She resolutely did not think of the absolute darkness of thatshipping container, which unfortunately brought the thoughts closer to the surface than she liked.

But she also didn’t want to scare the children, so she grabbed a hand towel off an endcap as she passed, and dabbed at her face.

Mercifully, the break room remained empty when she stepped in. “All clear,” she said, moving the table back under the trap door. “Invisible game’s over.”

From inside, she heard thumping. “Auntie Nat!”

“Cooper, wait—” was the only warning she had before the trap door opened and Cooper launched himself at her.

She snatched him out of the air, and absolutely did not think about what could have happened if she’d been slower to react. “Whoa, okay. Excited to get out of there, huh?” Laura’s white face appeared over the edge, eyes wide. Natasha mouthed he’s fine back at her. “Here, climb down, let me help your mom and your sister out.”

“I stayed so-o-o-o quiet,” Cooper said. “We colored in a dinosaur for you, but we didn’t know your favorite color so I picked red like your hair. What is your favorite color? There’s another dinosaur on the page, so if it’s not red, I can use that color instead.”

“I do like red a lot.” Natasha thought about it. “Purple, too, maybe.”

“You can’t have purple, that’s Dad’s favorite color.”

“Coop, more than one person can have purple as their favorite color,” Laura said, transferring Lila down to Natasha. Mercifully the baby had slept through all of it. “I like purple, too, remember?”

Cooper wrinkled his nose at that. “Okay, fine. I’ll make it purple.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Natasha promised. Once the entire family had been retrieved, she pushed the trap door back into place. Of course Clint had scouted this spot months ago. His paranoia remained legendary. “Family’s secure, Barton.”

“Got it,” Clint said. “Heading to the front.”

“Meet you there,” Natasha said. To the others with her, she tilted her head toward the door. “Ready to get out of here?”

Laura looked more or less composed, which Natasha had to credit her for. Civilians rarely handled those kinds of curveballs well, but she’d been married to Clint for a decade. It stood to reason this might not even be the first time something like this had happened. Her grip on the sleeping Lila remained tight. “Coop, hold Auntie Nat’s hand, okay? Humor me.”

“All right, I guess.”

“Everything good?” Laura asked.

“False alarm,” Natasha said.

One eyebrow went up. “A false alarm gave you a split lip?”

Natasha worked at it with her tongue, scrunching her nose at the brief spark of pain. “Just another exciting day in our line of work. It all turned out okay, if you ignore that we were unsuccessful in our primary objective.”

Laura looked blank, so Natasha prompted: “Getting the groceries, Barton.”

“Pfft, whatever. We’ll get takeout. We’ll consider it an adventure, and it won’t even be the first one today. Hopefully there will be less dust this time.” Laura leaned over, conspiratorially. “I am getting my phone back, right? I really like the case, and it’ll take forever to get another one like it.”

Years of espionage training kept Natasha from staring at her like she’d sprouted a second head. Clint had told her years before that his wife was far more pragmatic than either of them, but she’d never had a chance to witness it in action before. She almost wanted to ask if this was some kind of backwoods Midwestern thing, but it seemed better not to do that.

So she settled into a helpless laugh. “Yes, we’ll get your phone back. The case is really cute.”

“Good. I knew you’d agree.” Laura squeezed her shoulder with her free hand, and it felt more like a thank you than Natasha had ever received after years and years on the job.

“One point,” Natasha said, feeling a tiny bit shy as as she pulled out a package she’d swiped on their trip through the store earlier. “We should probably pay for the coloring books. And these.”

Laura looked down at the bag of popsicle sticks and laughed. “You really are a hero.”

FIN

(the target was a leaked witsec hit. Bad timing all around)

#avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #hawkeye #clint barton #laura barton #cooper barton #lila barton #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic #not simple to say verse

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enamoured-x · 4 years

Text

My Angel

This story is based on a request from @briannab1234 , thanks for letting me take your request into a different direction! I hope you enjoy it! (gifs not mine)

Excerpt: “You felt nothing hearing those words. Absolutely nothing. But you felt everything when Angel said them, when he whispered them to you at one in the morning after making love to you all night; when he’d yell them at you from across the junkyard on your way out; when he’d mumble them against your lips when he couldn’t draw his mouth away from yours but he needed to get them out.”

Warnings: Cheating, angst, mentions of violence

It was a regular Tuesday evening for you, you were currently grocery shopping for dinner tonight. You tried your hand at cooking different meals every other day and you knew Rio was loving being your guinea pig. You also kind of liked the domesticity of it all, him coming home to your shared apartment to you cooking dinner. It was nice and it made you think about the future when you’d possibly have a family with him. You loved Marcus like your own but you couldn’t wait to add to the family. You loved Rio and the two years you had been together were the best years of your life. You knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him and you couldn’t wait. You both had talked about marriage, about kids, and you two were on the same page. Only making it that much more exciting.

You smiled to yourself as you gathered the vegetables you needed. Rio had that effect on you. You pushed your cart as you looked at the produce and suddenly you were crashing into another cart. You pulled back right away. Later on you’d realize that the crash would stand as a sort of symbol, how your world came crashing down.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You apologized as you looked at the red headed woman in front of you. She smiled.

“My fault.” She said. Beth felt slightly bad for what she was about to do but her jealousy got the best of her. What did you have that she didn’t? She was giving Rio everything yet he still went home to you. Still wanted you.

“You’re dating Rio, right?” You were confused at her words. You had never seen this woman in your life, how did she know about Rio? Who was she? You prayed that she wasn’t with the feds.

“Excuse me?” You asked.

“I mean, aren’t you? I’m just asking because I thought he dumped you.” Anger stirred within you. Who the hell did she think she was?

“No, me and Rio are still together. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you try to maneuver around her cart but she shoved her cart into yours again. Your mouth dropped open. Before you could say anything she started talking.

“Really? Honey, he’s been keeping my bed warm for a while now. Kinda thought he’d break it to you.” You scoffed. Why would Rio ever touch her? Sure she had big boobs but she looked almost ten years older than him and judging by the food in her cart, she was most definitely a mom.

“I think you have me confused.” She definitely had the wrong Rio, you felt bad for the poor girl who was her actual target. Cheating was disgusting.

“No, I don’t. You know, Rio with the eagle tattoo on his neck? Rio with a son named Marcus?” She was taunting you. It was your Rio. Well she was describing him. She couldn’t be serious about Rio actually sleeping with her. There was no way. But then why did your gut sink just a little bit?

“You’re lying.” You hated that you sounded skeptical. Rio would never cheat on you.

“I wish I was. Well, actually I don’t. No one’s ever taken me the way he does.” She bit her lip as she looked deep in thought. You grounded your teeth together.

“Yeah, I don’t know what game you’re playing at but I want no part in it.” You moved around her but she didn’t stop you this time.

“It’s no game. Ask him where he was two nights ago. Probably made some excuse about taking care of business when he got home late. He was actually taking care of me.” Your heart rate spiked when you thought back to two days ago on Sunday when he came home late. You didn’t think anything of it though, he was always coming and going all kinds of hours because of business.

“If you still don’t believe me, then how do I know about the scar on his right thigh? Or the tattoo on his stomach?” Your breath hitched at that. There was no way she could know about those unless he was naked in front of her. It was dead of winter, it’s not like Rio was at the damn swimming pool, showing off everything.

“Ask him. Ask him about Beth, and then send him my way for more fun.” Is all she said before she took off. You stood there frozen, not wanting to believe what you just heard. She had to be messing with you, right? There had to be another way that she knew those things. You took your hands off the cart as you realized they were shaking. You squeezed them into fists and then walked away and out of the store, leaving your cart behind.

The whole drive home your brain was running through every detail of what she said and every conversation you’ve had with Rio recently. You didn’t know what to even look for. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. But she seemed so smug, so confident. Why else would she demand you ask him so many times if he really wasn’t seeing her? You felt your heart crack at the thought, at the possibility that maybe she wasn’t lying. And you had to know now.

You pulled into your apartment complex and walked into the building and straight to your door. Your heart was pounding. It can’t be true. There was no way. You and Rio were good, you and Rio were in love. You took a deep breath before entering. He was sitting down on the couch, phone in his hand. He looked up when you walked in and smiled at you. And then he stood up, confusion taking over his features as he walked over to you.

“Mama? I thought you went to get groceries? What’s wrong?” You knew he could see right through you. He knew something was wrong because he knew you so well.

“I…” You didn’t even know what to say. He waited for you to speak though.

You swallowed hard, “who’s Beth?” Coming right out with it. You felt your resolve breaking piece by piece as worry took over his expression briefly before he furrowed his brows.

“Who?” You could tell he was lying. Oh, god. Oh, god, she wasn’t lying.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Rio. Who the hell is Beth?” You crossed your arms. You bit your lip, trying to keep yourself from crying.

He sighed, “she’s just some woman I’ve been doing business with.”

“Then why deny knowing her.” You were going to see him play this one out.

“I don’t know.” The fact that he couldn’t even come up with an excuse hit you in your gut.

“No, you denied it because you’ve been screwing her.” Venom laced in your voice. He shook his head, mouth gaping.

“What? No, that’s… I…” Tears sprung to your eyes. You were sure they were going to fall any minute.

“Speak up. Be a fucking man and own up to it.” Your bottom lip shook as you waited. You needed to hear it. You needed to hear it because as much as this conversation was a dead giveaway, you still held on to an inkling of hope.

“Mama, please…” A tear escaped and he cursed. He tried to pull you into him but you shoved him away. His eyes widened.

“Do not fucking touch me. Did you fucking sleep with her? Yes or no?”

“...yes, but it didn’t mean anything. She means nothing to me. I love you.” It felt like he had been holding your heart in his hand this whole time, and hearing him say those words, it felt like he was squeezing your heart between his fingers, squeezing so tight you were sure it was going to give out. You covered your mouth as you tried to control your breathing. Everything felt like it was falling apart. That future you so desperately wanted with Rio? You couldn’t see it anymore, couldn’t see past this.

“How long?”

“Mama, don’t–”

“How fucking long, Rio?” The way he looked at you, told you enough but he looked down at the ground.

“Two months.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks, you swiped at them but they still kept coming. The anger that rolled through you, the embarrassment, the deep deep grief, it was all just one big tidal wave, catching you in its current, dragging you under. You couldn't breathe.

“Where?” His eyes were now sparkling with tears. Fuck him. He did this, he didn’t get to be upset.

“At her house, at–”

“Here?” If he brought her into your home… If he brought her into your bed…

“No, fuck no. Of course not.” You scoffed. He has no problem fucking other women but bringing them to your apartment is where he drew the line. You felt sick.

“How many times?” You were only hurting yourself. But you needed to know.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry–”

“How many fucking times, Rio?” Two months, how many times out of those two months was he fucking her? How many times did he fuck her while he also came home and fucked you? Yeah, you were going to be sick.

“I don’t know, a few times a week.” For two fucking months. These past two months when you were still on cloud nine with him. When you were still fucking almost everyday because you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. When you told him you loved him numerous times a day. When you gave him all of you. He was fucking another woman.

“You’re a piece of shit. God, you’re the fucking worst. How could you? Did I not love you? Did I not fuck you enough? Did I not make you happy?” Tears were sliding down his face now. He shook his head and tried to step closer to you but you stepped back.

“No, no! You do! God, baby, you do. I love you so fucking much it hurts sometimes and–”

“Don’t you dare say you love me.” Your tone was ice cold and Rio looked like he had been struck.

“I do! I swear to God I do. I don’t know why I did it. I don’t, mamas. I regret it. I shouldn’t have done it. I love you! Please, you have to know that. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake is when you do something wrong once and then correct it the next time. You’ve been fucking her for two months, Rio.” He shook his head, running his hand down his face.

“Did you use protection?” You asked as soon as the thought hit you. Not only was he breaking your heart but he was putting you at risk.

“Yes! I mean there was one time we didn’t but after that…” You were done. His words solidified everything. The fact that they didn’t use protection one time and then made a plan to use it the next time. Like they liked it so much but wanted to make sure they were being safe about it. It showed you that he wanted to do it, there was no regret or mistake about it. You cursed yourself for imagining him coming inside her and then agreeing to use protection next time. It was all planned, he knew what he was doing and he didn’t care.

“I hope you rot in hell.” Is all you said before turning on your heel and walking toward your bedroom. You felt him hot on your tail.

“Please! I swear it didn’t mean anything!” You weren’t listening to him anymore. It was the same shit he had been saying already and it didn’t mean anything to you. You grabbed your gym bag and started stuffing what you could fit into it. This was the worst part, the fact that you were living with him. You had nowhere else to go besides friends.

“Wait. No, no, no. Please stop. Don’t do this.” He shook his head as he watched you. You still ignored him. You tried to think of who you were going to stay with. You grabbed stuff you’d need from the bathroom cabinet and grabbed all your electronics and chargers. You’d come back for the rest later, you just needed to leave now. He kept rambling on and on but you tuned it out. Then he took your arm in his hand and you turned back. You ripped it out of his grasp.

“I told you not to fucking touch me! Get the fuck away from me, Rio, or I swear to god…” You shook your head. Tears were still silently falling down your cheeks but Rio was almost full on sobbing.

“You do not get to fucking cry. You made your bed, now fucking lay in it.” You said as you finally zipped up your bag and carried it out the room. He followed you again.

“Don’t do this, mama. I can fix this. Please! I swear it won’t happen again.” He begged.

“Goodbye, Rio. I’ll be over to get the rest of my stuff this week.” Your voice soft, defeated. He kept pleading with you as you walked out the door, but you never turned back.

Four months later

Rio was a wreck. Every damn day dragged on and he didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Four fucking months since you left him and he was still in a rut. He handled his business but everyone could tell he was off. He was even more snappy and a lot tougher on people than he used to be. Everyday it was different, he’d be so damn heart broken and other days he’d see red with all his anger. Angry at himself for what he did to you, even angry at you for not giving him another chance. But he knew he deserved it. He deserved all this pity and self loathing. He broke your heart, the person he loved most in the world. He just wanted you back. You blocked him from everything and even changed your number. But he still saw you around sometimes. You looked better.

The first month after you left, he had caught a glimpse of you at a coffee shop and you looked terrible. It looked like you hadn’t eaten, your face sunken in and void of any glow. You looked tired, and just...broken. He went home and cried that day because he did that, he made you that way. After two months, he saw you again walking downtown, you looked much better but you still had that hard exterior around you. Three months, and you were laughing with some friends at a bar. And then today, he saw you smiling. But you were with some man. Rio was downtown when he spotted you having lunch outside a restaurant. The man you were sitting across said something to have you letting out a deep laugh. Rio felt his heart twist. He hadn't heard that laugh in so long and then to see it was because of some other man? He felt his heart crack open. And then he wanted to scream and cry again because if this is how he felt by just watching you have a conversation with another man? Then he couldn’t imagine how you felt when you found out he was cheating on you.

He took in the man that you were so obviously enjoying time with. He was a biker, his vest told him that much, and he had ink all over his skin. He was smiling at you and Rio knew that smile well, he looked at you like that. Like you were the most beautiful thing on the fucking planet. He couldn’t do it, he walked away and went home. You were moving on and it destroyed him inside.

Four months later (Eight months since the breakup)

“Angel! Put me down!” You laughed as he hoisted you over his shoulder and spun you around. Even placing a sharp slap to your ass that had you laughing through your pleads.

“PDA much?” Ez groaned from where he was standing. Angel put you down and you made a show of bringing him in for a kiss, your tongue meeting his right away.

“For fucks sake!” Coco yelled. You laughed into the kiss and pulled away.

“Let us be, fuckers. Y'all are just jealous.” Angel told them, pulling you into his side and placing a kiss to the side of your head.

You had met Angel two months after breaking up with Rio. One of your friends was dating Coco at the time and had invited you to the clubhouse for a party. You were hesitant at first. You didn’t know these guys and at first glance, they seemed terrifying. But when you arrived, Coco was a great host and introduced you to everyone. A month later you’d find out that he was definitely trying to hook you up with Angel. But that night you met Angel and you hit it off immediately. You were skeptical at first, about starting a relationship again. Rio fucked you up so bad and although you were now over him, your insecurities and trust issues were still so fragile from when he threw them to the ground and stomped on them. But Angel was so damn sweet and so attentive. He was genuine and he really cared for you, it was hard not to fall back into that kind of love. And so you did. Six months with him and you were in love again. Maybe some would think it was too soon to be in love but you were a goner. And it scared you. And when it scared you, he didn’t accuse you of not trusting him or didn’t remind you that he wasn’t Rio. No, he’d just hold you and would tell you how much he loved you and how he would never do anything to hurt you. How you always put him first when no one else did and he would never let that go. And it worked, and you felt whole again.

“You staying the night tonight? I was thinking of making dinner?” You ask the man who came into your life at just the right time. He tucked you into his side, your head leaning against his chest.

“Yeah, but how about I make you dinner?” You pulled away, incredulously.

“I love you, but you’re a shit cook.”

“Maybe I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” You bit your lip, sliding your hand down his arm.

“Yeah? Can’t wait to see what you got.” It was hard not to flirt with Angel every chance you got. One look from him and you’d do anything he said. You knew not only was it the attraction but it was the safety you felt when you were with him. You always knew you were in good hands so you’d gladly be at his mercy any day.

“Oh, mami, there’s still a whole lot of Angel you haven’t seen yet.” He took your ass in his hands and brought you in for a kiss. You sighed into it, losing yourself in all that was Angel. His name was definitely fitting, he was your angel, sent at the perfect time to not just heal your broken heart but mold it into something better, something reserved just for him.

You didn’t really register what was going on. You were thrown off but you were surprised to know you didn’t feel that sadness again. That deep ache of despair that would creep in every time you thought about him. But you weren’t thinking about him. No, you were staring right at him. Yet you felt indifferent. Actually, no. You felt anger take form, bubbling just under the surface of your skin. You didn’t miss him, or want to cry from seeing him again. No, you didn’t think about all the good times you had with him. You thought about what he did to you. How he so readily threw away everything you had both built together. There wasn’t love there anymore, just despair and anger but those were quickly fading too.

You were downtown, grabbing a cup of coffee before you were on your way to the bookstore a few blocks down. It was a nice Sunday afternoon and you figured you’d spend it with a good book. Angel was busy with club business today and you were off. It was such a nice damn day. Until you heard your name being called before you could enter the bookstore. You knew that voice, you hadn’t heard it in months. You turned around slowly, knowing you were going to find Rio there. He looked slightly better. You had seen him once or twice within the last couple months and his current state seemed a little better than those times you had seen him.

“Rio.” Your way of greeting him. Why was he trying to talk to you now? You hadn’t talked since the day you went back to collect your stuff. Why now?

“You, uh, you look good.” He nodded his head, looking you up and down. You shifted on your feet.

“Thanks.” What more could you say? You had said everything to him that night, you had moved on now.

“Um, can we maybe go somewhere and talk?”

“No.” You couldn’t believe he even suggested it. There was nothing to talk about, absolutely nothing.

“Please, mama, I–”

“Do not call me that. I don’t want to talk, Rio. I’ve moved on and I suggest you do the same.” You turned away and walked into the bookstore. You wished the short interaction didn’t bother you as much as it did. You were angry that he would try to talk to you after all this time, and for what? He had to have known you were with someone else now, if the town didn’t talk well then his lackeys certainly did. You were happy now, happier. You didn’t need him coming back into your life and taking that from you again. But he just couldn’t help himself when he tried to do just that a week later.

You laughed at Coco and Gilly shoving each other as you walked down the hall. Both boys trailing behind you, Angel, and Ez.

“You two are children.” You shook your head and placed the key in the lock at your door.

Before Angel could add his own remark you were talking.

“Don’t even say anything. You and Ez are just as bad.” Both the Reyes men rolled their eyes, but you knew they knew it was true.

You laughed at them and then walked into your apartment, flipping on the switch. Your heart dropped as you saw the figure standing in your living room, you let out a gasp. Before you knew what was happening, all four Mayans had their guns drawn. Pointing straight at Rio.

He didn’t dare touch his gun, too late to draw it now.

“Who the fuck are you?” Angel was seething. There was a man inside your apartment, waiting for you. He thanked God that you invited the boys over for dinner tonight.

“Rio, what the fuck are you doing here?” You were just as angry as Angel probably was. When Angel heard the name, he was raging beyond belief now. The same Rio who broke your heart was waiting for you, somehow able to enter your home.

“I came to see you. Didn’t know you’d have company.” He said, eyeing all the men in vests and guns out.

“How the fuck did you get in? You can’t just break into my home, Rio. What the hell is wrong with you?” The guns barely jarred you. You were around them all the time with Rio so when you met Angel and found out some aspects of what the club did, you didn’t even blink an eye.

Ez, Coco, and Gilly watched the interaction unfold. They knew who Rio was, they knew he was the asshole who cheated on you. They were just as pissed off as Angel was to see him. They cared for you deeply so quickly and you felt the same for them. They felt the strong need to protect you at all costs, you were Angel’s girl now and anyone who messed with you messed with them. Angel knew this, and he knew how it sounded a lot like old lady status. But that question was for another time. Another time where he wasn’t currently pointing his gun at Rio’s head, wishing he could pull the trigger.

“I just wanted to talk, please.”

“You have a lot of fucking balls for a man who has four fucking guns on him.” Angel quipped. You were only slightly concerned for Rio’s safety. Yeah, he tore open your heart but he didn’t deserve to die.

Rio ignored him and turned back to look at you. Angel wasn’t having it and stepped in front of you, pushing you behind him.

“Nah, don’t even fucking look at her. I’m talking to you.” Angel wasn’t messing around and you felt a sense of security knowing he’d protect you to whatever end even though you knew Rio wouldn’t hurt you.

“You need to leave.” Ez spoke up. Rio laughed, shaking his head.

“This is who you hang around now, mama? I thought you were better than that. Better than this trash.” You knew Angel was boiling over with rage but you tugged on his vest and then stepped in front of him.

“You will not, not talk about them like that. This is my family, you need to fucking leave, Rio.” You were red hot and ready to set everything on fire. Rio didn’t get to disrespect them, he didn’t just get to walk in here and talk shit about them. These guys were your family, your heart. They didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that.

“Can you just let me–” Rio tried but Angel spoke up again.

“She told you to leave, so leave.”

Rio was about to stupidly open his mouth again so you stepped in.

“You cheated on me, Rio. I will never forgive that, ever. So there’s nothing you can say or do that will change my mind about it or about you. I’ve moved on. I’m happy now, why do you insist on taking that away again?” Angel refrained from telling you that Rio wasn’t going to take away anything from you ever again, he wouldn’t let him.

“I still love you, that ain’t gonna change.” You felt nothing hearing those words. Absolutely nothing. But you felt everything when Angel said them, when he whispered them to you at one in the morning after making love to you all night; when he’d yell them at you from across the junkyard on your way out; when he’d mumble them against your lips when he couldn’t draw his mouth away from yours but he needed to get them out. Angel’s love meant something. Rio’s never did.

“I don’t love you, Rio. That’s never gonna change either. Leave my home and leave me alone. I won’t tell you again and if you try some shit like this again I swear I’ll call the cops on you.” Angel didn’t bother mentioning that if Rio pulled this shit again, he’d put a bullet in his brain.

“I’ll always be waiting.” Rio said as he started to walk towards the door.

“And I will never come.” Is all you said before Coco slammed the door shut when he walked out. You took a deep breath. They tucked their guns back into their jeans.

“You okay, mi dulce?” Angel asked, cupping your cheeks in his hands. You nodded and leaned into his touch.

“Yeah. I can’t believe he broke in.”

“It won’t happen again.” Angel didn’t need to say anything further, you knew he wouldn’t let it.

“Yeah, he tries to come around again and we’ll take care of him.” Gilly said, you huffed out a laugh.

“If he comes around again, I’ll do it myself.” Rio was out of your life. You wanted nothing to do with him. And if he tried to show his face after disrespecting these men, then you’d do something about it. Your fierce loyalty to the Mayans happened so quick, one second you were dating Angel and the next you had a whole other family that you cared for and who cared for you.

“I love you.” Angel said to you. The boys took it as their cue to go into the kitchen, giving you and Angel space.

“I love you, Angel. My angel.” You clasped your hands on the back of his neck and his hands slid down to your waist.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” He promised, sealing it with a kiss.

Angel was your hope. Your hope after a dark period, that people could be good. People could be honest and loving. He was what you needed at exactly the time you needed him, and he had told you that you were that for him as well. You were exactly what the other needed. Two bruised hearts healing just to beat in tandem with the other.

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #mayans mc #rio x reader #good girls rio #rio good girls #rio x you

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bcbdrums · 3 years

Text

Victory

For a fellow Drakgo fan, it’s @dawhitebag‘s birthday tomorrow! Happy birthday!!!

Inspired by three pieces of their art: 1, 2, and 3

Read on other sites: FFn AO3

Enjoy “Victory,” a tiny AU ending to So the Drama.

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

On the computer screen: destruction. Outside the building, a timely lightning storm that would have made any super-villain envious. And inside, standing before the screen, the mad scientist's head was thrown back in maniacal laughter.

Shego watched from the back of the room as henchmen seated at rows of computer consoles maintained careful control of the Li'l Diablos—Drakken's (finally) successful robots that had been his means of taking over the world. The big screen was cycling between news feeds from cities of various nations where armed forces were useless against Drakken's—for once—brilliant plan.

Or had they all been brilliant, and she had just never seen it before? In most every one of his previous plans, she had been over his shoulder, mocking him all the way. This time he had kept everything secret from her. He had said it was to make sure Kim Possible wouldn't discover it, but she wondered now... Had he shut her out so he could actually succeed?

She looked at Drakken's back, and the way he stood taller and prouder than she'd ever seen him. Hands on his hips as the well-tailored suit made clear the fact that the person who usually skulked in an over-sized blue lab coat was in fact a man, and one she realized she was spending more and more of her thoughts on. He turned then, and she noticed how the electric blue of the suit seemed to make his skin and eyes less corpse-like and more vibrant.

He was grinning at her, but not with the chaotic abandon she'd expected. Yes, his eyes held fire and glee, but there was also a knowing within the dark depths as he stared at her, and a desire to know. It sent her heart racing, and she instinctively straightened up from where she was leaned back against the wall. Usually when she let her thoughts stray from the professional to the impossible, it was he who fell uncomfortable under her gaze. But there was something different in his eyes; he had never looked at her that way before.

"Go get changed."

"E-Excuse me?" she answered with unexpected fluster.

"You should be on my level when we make our announcement about ruling the world," he said, gesturing broadly to his suit.

Her eyes widened. "We...?"

"Yes of course...unless... You don't want to make the announcement with me?"

He looked worried for the first time in days, and Shego quickly pushed off the wall and turned to go find something less side-kick and more...co-ruler of the world? Was that what he was saying?

"Give me a minute, I'll be right back."

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

Drakken replayed the image of Shego's retreating back with unease as his nerve-endings were tingling with a slow build of anxiety. He stared at the images on the computer screen, all revealing his triumph in explosive detail. He had hoped to impress her... He had hoped that taking over the world would show her he was more than he appeared, and certainly more than the losers she kept dating.

Recently she had acted more friendly toward him. She had even taken him up on an offer to get revenge against one of the gorillas who had dumped her. Evil bonding was a good secret first date, he had thought. And while she had certainly enjoyed it, and even seemed to enjoy his company...nothing changed beyond that.

He knew world domination was the only way to be worthy of her. But...he had succeeded, and she had yet to say a word about it. Would she reject the offer he was going to make her, of ruling the world together...? It was extremely risky, he knew, but over the past several months as he plotted and schemed, impressing her always at the front of his mind, he had come to realize... Shego was his world. He didn't want to do it without her.

The soft sound of Shego clearing her throat caused him to whirl around, and then his brow rose. She was dressed in the blouse and skirt set modeled after her costume that she had worn when they'd gone to see Brotherson at the Bermuda Triangle. And...she might have done something to her makeup, because her eyes were somehow more vibrant, and her hair was as luxurious as ever.

"This good?" she asked off-handedly, glancing down at the claws of her glove.

"Yes," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat and then clearing it. He hadn't expected her to wear...that, or anything so alluring and feminine. He tried to put back on his usual airs as he beckoned her forward with a small jerk of his head. "Perfect."

Shego seemed to hold her breath before moving, releasing it only when the clack of her heeled boots started eliminated the distance between them.

"Dunno why you need me for this," she said nonchalantly.

Drakken realized he was holding his breath too.

"I thought...you might enjoy more of a...leading role, now. Now that there's no reason to hide things anymore," he quickly justified his statement.

Shego looked up at him with a raised brow. "You mean...co-ruler?"

Drakken bit the inside of his cheek. He selfishly wanted to rule the world alone, but...this might be his only chance.

"I can think of none better," he said, holding his hand out to her not to shake, but palm up and open. He was glad for his gloves to hide his skin's clamminess.

Shego looked between his face and his hand. There was something unspoken in her eyes that made him nervous, and her too apparently as she glanced away to the brightness of the destruction still displayed on screen.

Her silence was causing his anxiety to rise and he rushed to fill it.

"We can...work out the details later."

Shego looked back at his hand, and then up into his eyes. He held her gaze, despite wanting to look away and make excuses for what he was saying. He was expecting the usual sarcastic quip or question of doubt, but instead she simply stared at him. She had never done that before, and he wanted to escape her verdant gaze as much as he longed to fall into it.

She slowly lifted her hand and set her gloved fingertips in his palm, her cheeks coloring as she did so. His lips parted in a silent gasp as her eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty at the same time she rose up on her toes.

Lightning flashed outside, and the next moment was a blur as her other hand was somehow resting on his shoulder and his other inexplicably on the bare flesh at her waist. He saw the flutter of her eyelashes just before her eyes closed, and then her lips pressed softly against his.

The moment was broken far too quickly as he became aware of more things: the orange reflective glow from the explosions on screen, the sudden silence in the room but for the storm outside as the henchmen all stared at them, and the way Shego's hand tightly gripped his.

When she pulled back from the too-brief glimpse into heaven, her eyes were worried and questioning. But not regretful. Drakken released his breath as he gripped her hand in return, a smile of unbridled joy blooming across his face that he couldn't have held back if he wanted to. Her expression changed to one of relief, hope, and excitement, and as he lifted his other hand from her waist to put behind her head and draw her back to the intimate moment, an answering smile filled her face.

The instant before their lips met they were startled from the moment by a resounding cheer, and they both turned to see the entire room of henchmen on their feet, applauding and shouting and a few even exchanging money over bets won and lost no doubt. Drakken ran his hand over his hair sheepishly, but the feel of Shego's hand looping through his arm drew his focus back to her and where she was smiling up at him, trying to maintain her usual air of confidence through the shy joy that had filled her eyes.

"Shego..." He wasn't sure what else he would have said, but the awed breathing of her name was all he could manage.

She cleared her throat, though it didn't do anything to mask the blush in her cheeks.

"Ruling the world?" she said softly.

Drakken blinked. "Right... Jameson!" he bellowed for the henchman, "Get ready for the broadcast!"

Drakken and Shego turned to face the computer screen that changed to show their image. He was startled by what he saw, as he had only ever seen it in his dreams before: Shego on his arm, her confidence, beauty, and intelligence...devoted to him.

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

Shego looked at Drakken's eyes through the video monitor where his assurance suddenly seemed to have faltered. Her heart was still racing from the impulsive kiss, but she couldn't have agreed to rule the world with him without knowing. But suddenly, something seemed to have changed.

"Dr. D.?" she asked softly, her fingers tightening on his arm in what she hoped was reassurance.

He blinked a few times and then looked down, anxiety rapidly joining the happiness in his eyes. His jaw worked for a moment before one word finally slipped out.

"Me...?"

Shego grinned. "Yes. You."

He seemed to calm, but then his brow furrowed. She cut him off before he could continue.

"Why me?" Drakken's brow rose in response. And again, she cut him off. "Probably similar reasons?"

Drakken considered, and Shego decided in a split-second to let her own remaining uncertainty show.

"We can...talk about all of it later. As long as you're sure...?"

Drakken grabbed her hand on his arm and held it tight, nodding firmly.

"Yes. I'm sure."

The laser-focus in his eyes was all the assurance she needed, and as her expression melted back to happiness she watched his shift into the same.

"So..." she sighed as she felt her nerves finally begin to calm, "talk later... But right now, I believe we have a broadcast to make?"

Drakken straightened, and his broad grin of victory returned.

"Yes," he said firmly, "we do."

Shego mirrored his devilish look as they faced the screen again, taking just a moment to survey the image that met them once more. Side by side, and arm in arm... She honestly wondered what had taken them so long.

Drakken turned and nodded at the henchman waiting to begin the live broadcast to the world that they now owned. He turned back and gave Shego that same knowing grin that had spurred her to action. She returned it in kind.

"Let's do it!"

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Sugar and Coffee [6]

Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

➜ Words: 7k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

➜ Notes: I know it’s not Christmas or even remotely winter, but in the timeline of the fic, it is. I hope you guys don’t mind.

cr.

Sometimes when Jungkook doesn’t hear from you for an extended amount of time, he wonders who you’ve found to terrorize now. But he doesn’t have to wonder for a long time since you always find your way back to him, plopping down at his table at the dining center during breakfast when he’s mid-conversation with Jimin, sitting beside him during the lectures and online shopping on your laptop when you’re supposed to be paying attention, texting him to ask how you pop a pimple on your back…. The list is endless. You weasel your way into his life until it’s almost natural. Like you’re Hoseok or Taehyung. And that extended amount of time where he wonders whose life you’re ruining decreases from days to hours to minutes until he eventually stops pondering altogether, knowing that it’s his life you’re destroying and no one else's. “So I’m guessing you didn’t completely bomb the tempering chocolate part of your final.” You look over at him with a raised brow. “Who told you?” “You would’ve screamed about it over text if you did.” “Hmph.” You tear your eyes away from the dark-haired man, continuing to scrub your dishes beside him. “That’s right. I did well, no thanks to you.” “Excuse me, I think it was through our failures that you learnt the most.” The kitchen is still bustling with kids cleaning up after themselves. The two of you are beside each other, washing your own dishes. You hate that Jungkook’s sharing a sink with you, but he complained there was nowhere else to go, and you figured kicking him somewhere else would’ve been more work. “I’ll admit, it was the motivation to destroy you and win that got me through it.” He scoffs as you smile mockingly at him, finishing the rest of your dishes. “Are you almost done with all your finals?” “I have one more tomorrow and I’m finished. You?” “I’m done with all of them.” “Wow, are you trying to brag, you little shit?” Jungkook grins. “Look, I—” He’s interrupted by the vibration of a phone. Jungkook quirks a brow, knowing full well there’s not supposed to be any phones in the kitchen. It’s a dumb policy of your teacher, but a policy nonetheless. You pout at him, pulling the device out of your back pocket. “I’m waiting for a call, alright?” Luckily class is over and there's only cleaning to be done, so you don’t get into trouble for turning around to answer the call. Jungkook continues to wash his plates and bowls, minding his own business. But he inadvertently catches the conversation. “Hey….yeah….I’m good...uh-huh. I have an exam tomorrow and then I’m off for the rest of the month until the second week of January.” You’re speaking in hushed whispers, arm hugging your body as the other presses the phone to your ear. You peek over your shoulder and Jungkook looks away right in time. But out of the corner of his eye, he sees you frown and whip yourself back around into the corner. “What do you mean? No, mom. I...broke up with Jin, remember? I’m not—…..what? Are there any more tickets?” There’s a long silence. You release a frustrated sigh, pressing your hand on your forehead. “Can’t you cancel your trip then? Or find a way….” There’s yet another pause. Jungkook can vaguely hear voices on the other line. “So you’re just going to leave me behind?” His ears perk when your voice cracks like you’re going to cry, or maybe you’re just angry. Jungkook can’t really tell. “Well, what am I supposed to do for three whole weeks? There are no classes, mom. I don’t want to spend Christmas by mysel—Fine. Fine! Have it your way!” you spit in a whisper that’s loud enough to draw the attention of your other classmates nearby too. “You have fun on your little trip then. No—don’t talk to me! I’m hanging up.” You remain there for another ten seconds and Jungkook watches you hang up, sliding the phone into the pocket of your apron. He looks at you fast enough to see how your eyes are glossy and diverts his vision, not wanting to embarrass you or put you on the spot. “Trouble in paradise?” “There’s always fucking trouble in paradise,” you mutter. “Nothing ever goes right for me. Whatever.” Jungkook put the dishes away with you. He decides to address the elephant in the room, clearing his throat. “I, uh, couldn’t help but hear…so what’s gonna be your plans for the break?” “I don’t know.” You sigh again. “I’ll probably just stay here. Work on some stuff. Learn a recipe or two or maybe get a head start for next semester. You?” “I’m going home. We’re not really religious, but my entire family usually gathers for the holiday for gift exchange and to eat and stuff,” he says, trying not to rub salt all over your wound. You nod. “That sounds nice. Have fun.” There’s tense silence again, merely the noise of bowls and plate clanging as you put them back where they belong. But Jungkook is unable to move from the conversation. His thoughts brew in the forefront of his mind. He knows it’s unnecessary, that he shouldn’t, but his conscience compels him otherwise. “You should come with me.” Goddamn. Jungkook hates himself for being such a good person. Why can’t he be as cold as Yoongi? He’s gonna have to ask the man how he does it. But Jungkook also knows if it were him who just got dumped by his two year long girlfriend, he wouldn’t want to spend the holidays at this damned, empty institution by himself. “Pardon?” You give him that look of yours, like you’re disgusted or confused. He’s not sure which one it is in this context. “You should come with me.” The words leave Jungkook’s mouth before he can consider what he’s exactly offering. “Spend Christmas with my family.” “What?” You shake your head. You’re not appalled, merely perplexed at why he’s going out of his way to propose something so big. “Why would I do that?” Jungkook shrugs. “You don’t have to. I just think you shouldn’t have to stay here by yourself.” Your expression softens. “Won’t it be weird?” “No, my parents won’t mind. Taehyung and Jimin actually spent Christmas with me two years ago and that was fine. You don’t have to stay for the entire break, but at least for the holidays….” Jungkook knows that expression — the nibble of your bottom lip, the way your brows knit together. You’re touched by his hospitality and benevolence, but hesitant as you consider it, even though you want to. “There’s no pressure,” he says and quickly adds, “I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself when I put the ornaments on the tree better than you can.” All at once, you make a noise between a scoff and a laugh. It bubbles out of your throat and makes him smile. “How does someone put ornaments on the tree better?” Jungkook shrugs. “Someone without a sense of aesthetics wouldn’t know.” Your mouth curls. “Is that a challenge, Jeon?” “You have to come to find out.” He smirks. “Okay, sounds like a plan then.” Jungkook grins, ruffling your hair with his hand until you swat it away. “We’re leaving in two days. Get packing.”

If you told yourself half a year ago you’d be lugging a suitcase and backpack to Jeon Jungkook’s parents’’ house, you would’ve laughed and then called the psych ward to pick up an insane girl in your dorm room claiming she’s from the future. But you guess in the recent months, insane things have been happening to you one after another. You’ve been on the bus for five hours now, slowly making your way up north where it’s icy and snowy. You only get to stretch out your legs at a rest stop for about an hour. “Took you long enough.” Jungkook pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on, eyes flickering down to a bag you’re holding. You notice his stare and you move the bag behind your back. “I thought you went to the bathroom. Went shopping on the way?” “It was just a souvenir I picked up. A lame key chain for the occasion. How much longer is this gonna take?” “Well we’re halfway through, so another five hours give or take?” “Oh my god.” You sigh while stepping outside. The snow hits you at once and it makes your cheeks numb in the frost. “My ass is so sore.” “You’re the one talking.” Jungkook rolls his shoulder. “My shoulder aches from your heavy head.” “Hey, it’s your fault for stealing the window seat.” “I didn’t know you would be sleeping four out of the five hours.” He sighs with a small smirk, feigning frustration. Yet Jungkook’s the first to climb onto the bus. There are people all around, napping, playing games. You put your souvenir bag into your backpack, sliding it back onto the overhead bin before you look down at the boy who’s settled in his seat in spite of his complaints, looking out the window like he’s having thoughtful contemplation and there’s something in that empty brain of his. “Are you not gonna give me the window seat?” Jungkook turns his head, arm propped up on the rest. He flashes a brilliant smile. “Why would I?” “So your shoulder doesn’t have to be sore anymore, Jeon.” He hums a low note. “Nah. I’m good.” You scoff. “Your call.” You plop down, immediately lolling your heavy head onto his shoulder. You try your best to lean your entire weight on it, as heavy as you can, and you shut your eyes and cross your arms to continue your nap. Jungkook mutters how bratty you are and it only makes you smirk in satisfaction. Eventually you’re shaken awake when you arrive at the destination five hours later and your ass is sore beyond belief. Your eyes are bleary as you try to rub them awake, squinting out the window to look at the small town covered in snow. The white is blinding and it almost overflows into your boots. You pull your suitcase behind you with your backpack on your back. Jungkook drags his belongings with him too. “Where to now?” “It’s a fifteen minute walk. Think you can handle it?” “Yeah.” Even if it’s cold enough that your fingers are curling in on themselves and snot is dripping down your nose, it’s still better than being by yourself in your warm dorm room with nothing to do. The town is quiet, not in an eerie fashion but serene. The houses are twinkling with strung lights, puffs coming out of chimneys, people through the windows putting up ornaments or gathering around the fire. This place is the perfect Christmas movie setting, small shops and friendly folks. You wonder if this is where Jungkook grew up. “It’s this one.” Jungkook stops on the sidewalk suddenly. It’s house one two three at Imlings Avenue, a cozy looking home with a giant front yard and two cars on the curb. You can hear the festive music already. As you roll your suitcase up the shoveled walkway, hearing the wheels roll, you become increasingly nervous. It’s odd — even if you and Jungkook are friends now — you’ve never met his family before. You’re a stranger to them and you’re probably unwelcome considering this is just a family affair… “Wait.” You linger back. “Jungkook—” But it’s too late. He knocks before he can hear your voice. And the door swings open. Oddly, you don’t see anyone….until you tilt your head down. There’s a little girl in a red and green plaid dress, her black hair in pigtails. She looks up at Jungkook and bats her lashes. A wide grin spreads into her chocolate stained cheeks and she throws herself onto him. “Kookie!” There's a stampede of steps and you hear multiple voices. “Yeonjun! He’s here!” “Oh my goodness, have you been eating well? You look so thin! We’ll change that.” “Kookie! Kookie!” “There’s food in the kitchen, son, go have some.” “Or get some rest if you’re tired. There’s plenty to do, but that can get done later.” “Okay, okay.” Jungkook laughs and turns around to see that you’re still standing outside. He quirks his head to the side. “Are you going to come in?” What ensues is one of the most awkward moments in your life. There’s sudden silence, and then two or three sharp gasps. You manage a smile, looking down at the floor as you step into his house. The door shuts behind you, solidifying your position here. Your eyes flicker up. There are two kids, an older lady that resembles Jungkook but with wrinkles creased at her features, and an older man, aged like fine wine and with Jungkook’s doe eyes. “Hi. I’m Y/N. S-Sorry for the intrusion. I really...appreciate your generosity for letting me stay.” Jungkook smiles softly and plops his hand on your shoulder, gesturing to each person. “Mom, dad, this is Y/N. She’s my friend and, uh, classmate I told you about. Y/N, this is my grandma, my uncle, my aunt, and my two cousins, Lia and Eunbi.” He goes over them so fast, you’re reeling. Lia grins a toothless smile, arms politely behind her back as she sways from side to side. “I’m seven, nice to meet you.” Eunbi, the one who opened the door, spreads her hand in front of you. “Five!” “Nice to meet you.” You nod. But instantaneously, your hands are taken by the old lady. Jungkook’s grandma, despite her entire head of hair being stark silver, has her irises shining with newfound energy. “It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. Please, come in. Take off your coat.” “How long have you known Jungkook for?” his uncle suddenly asks, wearing a blazing smile as well like he knows something you don’t. “Umm….actually, we went to high school together.” “Really now?” “We weren’t close though until...until recently.” “Jungkook.” His mother shakes her head in disapproval. “You didn’t tell us your friend was a girl.” Oh god. Now he knows what’s going on and why they’re treating you like you’re a prized possession. “It’s not like tha—” His aunt completely jumps the gun. “How long have you been dating Jungkook for?” You choke on air, taking your hands away from Jungkook’s grandma to pound on your chest lest you die this pathetically. Jungkook’s eyes bulge from their sockets. And Lia is old enough to understand and wrinkles her face. “Ewww, are you guys gonna end up kissing?” “No! No.” He takes a deep breath. “Y/N is a friend. She’s just a friend.” “I-um, sorry if there’s been a misunderstanding.” You back him up. “I’m not dating him. Frankly, I can’t handle someone like Jungkook. B-Because he’s too great,” you quickly add, not wanting to insult their son in front of their faces when they were already inviting you into their home. It’s so awkward, you want to run outside and faceplant into the snow and die from hypothermia. “We’re just not like that. Never.” “Yeah. She’s a classmate. A friend. Like Jimin or Taehyung.” “O—kay then.” Jungkook’s mom breaks the tension with a warm smile. “Well, we shouldn’t dilly dally here all day! Jungkook, you can take your suitcase up to your usual room. Y/N can have the one down the hall, the guest one—oh no, dear, you don’t have to carry it.” She stops you when you grab your luggage again. “Jungkook can do it for you.” “A-Are you sure?” “Of course. He has to make himself useful somehow. Make yourself at home! Lia, Eunbi, want to show Y/N the stockings you made?” “Yeah!” Lia grabs your hand, leading you away. You glance at Jungkook and he has a tight lipped smile. But the moment you turn the corner, he’s bombarded by his family members' curious stares. “Are you sure she’s just a friend, dear?” his grandma croaks. “She’s awfully pretty.” “Are you in the process of courting her, son?” his dad inquires. “Let me tell you, when I courted your mother, I did all sorts of things to get her to like me, so if you ever need advice—” “You learnt how to drive a motorcycle and almost killed yourself with it,” his mother chides. “I’m glad he didn’t.” His grandma turns around, deadpanning, “Your funeral would’ve been a terrible embarrassment to the family.” “I remember that. You stole from me to get that motorcycle and never paid it back,” his uncle pipes up, and his dad ducks his head behind his mom. His aunt laughs and pats his uncle’s chest. “Now, now, let’s not get ourselves worked up.” She turns, addressing the real issue in the room. “Jungkook, is Y/N really just a friend?” “Yeah.” He stops, having ignored his family and struggled to carry the suitcases across the living room. Jungkook doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to insist his relationship with you is platonic, but out of everyone he knows his aunt is the most understanding and convincing. If she believes it, the rest will too. “She’s just a friend. Actually, she….recently broke up with her long-term boyfriend, so…...yeah, um, and she’s my internship partner and I felt bad that she was spending Christmas by herself….” “Well then, that’s fine. Friends are as valuable as any other kind of relationship. I think your mother and everyone else were just surprised that you brought a girl home.” “She was going to spend Christmas by herself?” his grandma asks, surprised by the mere idea of it. “Yeah, I think she was supposed to spend it with her boyfriend’s family but they broke up, so…” “Well then I’m glad you invited her! No one should spend the holidays by themselves. Poor girl.” “The more the merrier!” his uncle proclaims. “But you still should’ve told me it was a girl,” his mother chides with her hands on her hips. “I would’ve gotten her a suitable gift!” “Friend or not, I don’t want any shenanigans under my roof, Jungkook,” his dad warns. “You’ll both be sleeping in separate bedrooms.” The mere idea of it has him frowning. “Of course!” Jungkook says as if it should be obvious. He lugs his suitcase and yours up by himself while wondering what if you brought actual bricks with you. It hasn’t even been ten minutes in this house and Jungkook already has a headache. // Not even an hour at the house, you and Jungkook are thrown into a truck with his dad and uncle to go buy a Christmas tree at some small market. Your hands dug into your pockets as you walk alongside each other, finally able to get a breather. “Sorry about them. Did they ask a lot of questions?” “Only about my education, how old I am, what my parents do, my hobbies, if I have siblings, if I’m religious, where I grew up, and oh yeah, my plans for the next five years.” “Sorry,” Jungkook repeats with a sigh. He knew they were overbearing but this is really something else. You giggle. “It’s okay. Just felt like a job interview. I’m just happy they’re so welcoming. Your family’s really nice, Jungkook.” “Yeah. Mostly. My mom can be pretty crazy. My grandma can be hysterical — same with my aunt. And my uncle and dad can be short tempered.” “Every family has their fair share of crazy.” “You could say that again.” You stop to point at a tall, luscious looking tree. “That tree’s pretty nice, huh?” “I think it’s too big for the house.” You keep walking. “I’ve actually never gone looking for a tree like this before. Certainly not a day before Christmas Eve.” “Really?” “Yeah, my family usually uses artificial trees.” You smile at the memory. “Oh, Jin’s family uses a real tree. Usually it’s already decorated when I get there though—……” It takes a moment for you to realize what you’re saying. “Never mind.” Jungkook glances at you. It falls into silence and he can see you brooding in your thoughts. He then taps your shoulder. “What do you think of that tree?” The boy points to a small one that’s drooped over. “It’s so….sad looking.” “Hmm, like you, right?” Jungkook laughs hard when you shove him. He catches himself before he faceplants into the snow. “God, you should be lucky I love your family or else I would kill you.” “As if you even could.” “Don’t test me, Jeon.” “Hey, kids!” His dad shouts, a few meters away. “Come help your uncle and I with this one. It’s a good one!” Once it’s paid for, you all haul the tree into the back of the truck. You muse that you’ve truly never done this before as you watch Jungkook’s mom screaming as all the men try to shove the tree through the front door and the tree losing nearly half of its pine needles, shedding to the carpet. But finally they manage to get it inside without much damage done and all that’s left is to decorate. You help pull out old boxes from the cottage and Lia shows you the noodle ornament she made in class. “Look!” You’re genuinely impressed at how intricate it is. God knows your talent was in baking and never in arts and crafts. “Wow, it’s really pretty!” “Thanks.” She grins and you pick her up so she can slide it on at the very top. You try to hold Eunbi too so she can put the star topper on but when your arms begin to shake with the weight of the five year old, Jungkook takes over for you. He puts her on his broad shoulders so she can lean over to do it. And you’re finally able to race Jungkook to put the rest of the ornaments up, and find out who’s the true Christmas master. But you don’t get far into the game when his grandma waddles over and starts complaining that he was bunching the candy canes too close together. “When you kids are done with that, come outside. We’re going to put up the lights,” Jungkook’s dad says as he carries a ladder with his uncle. Though once you’re actually outside, dressed up from head to toe in Winter gear, there’s not much you can do. You watch as Jungkook climbs the ladder while you hold the bottom rung to steady him, but his uncle ends up telling him to get down when he nearly slips off the roof. “Imagine if you actually fell…” The both of you looking up, squinting as you observe the old men bickering to one another about how to string the lights on. “You’d probably laugh and use my body for a ritual to summon a demon, huh?” You turn to him, deadpanning, “How’d you know?” What follows is snow hurled to your face and a shriek of his name. “Jeon Jungkook!” Your body shakes with rage and you collect a snowball in your hands. But he takes cover in the backyard behind a tree, giggling boyishly like he’s four years old. “You coward! Come here!” You chase after him at full speed, but he runs, laughing even more. You smack the back of his coat, but there’s no effect so you gather another one, patting the snow firmly to chuck it. You wish you had ice shards, so you can put it in and attack with full force. You sprint after him before taking a leap, jumping onto his back. Unfortunately, your plan in tackling him doesn’t work. Jungkook doesn’t waver, knees not even buckling, but you adapt and slap the snowball to his face. He laughs, shaking you off and you fall onto your ass. It’s one bad thing after another considering you’re not fast enough to run away — and he chucks another one to your face. Your aggressive shouts and Jungkook’s laughter draws the attention of the kids because they come out all bundled up in toques and scarves, cheeks overflowing above them. They march out in snow pants and thick coats, ready for battle. “Be careful!” Jungkook’s aunt shouts from the porch before running back inside to hide from the frost. “I wanna play! I wanna play!” Eunbi hops while Lia runs and falls back, making a giant snow angel. “Come here, Eunbi! Come here!” Jungkook motions her over and she waddles. “We’re gonna get the evil witch!” “Excuse me?!” you shriek and it makes the both of them giggle. You tell Lia to help you and she’s old enough to understand your instructions, making snowballs with you quickly as she laughs hysterically and tries to chuck them at Jungkook to no avail. Lia is hit a few times by her feet, while you’re smacked straight at the neck, freezing snow melting down your shirt inside and making you cry out in agony. You try to smack Jungkook with one but then he holds Eunbi up so she can take the hit. “Are you seriously using her as a shield?!” you scream at him. “You gotta do whatever it takes to win!” Jungkook laughs like a maniac as his human child shield giggles along. You’re unable to hit him at full capacity, but you get the upper hand when you tell Lia to sneak around. She shouts she’s going to the bathroom while you continue to fire light snowballs uselessly. But when the seven year old walks around the gate instead of going inside like she declared, she smacks Jungkook at the back of the head with a snowball, catching him off guard. “Hey!” At that moment, you rush him, trying to shovel snow down his coat. But his reflexes are too good. He lightly tosses Eunbi down on the fluffy surface and she laughs, making snow angels and Jungkook wrestles you. “I think not, witch!” “If I’m a witch, you’re the grinch—!” Jungkook successfully tackles you down, but you manage to rub snow all over his face, making him spaz. In the meanwhile, his grandma, aunt and mom watch from the window, laughing hysterically. And the men up on the roof are speechless. “What are they doing?” “You know how the youngins are.” They exchange a meaningful look, wishing they still had that same amount of energy. // Jungkook is a fucking lucky bastard — sometimes you can’t fathom it. Not only does he have a great group of friends, but his family is amazing. He really has it all. You find out his dad is an absolute airplane enthusiast, and he even shows you his aircraft collection of small planes he gathered over the years. He’s knowledgeable on all the models and tells you about a realistic flight simulator he’s planning to set up. His mother, on the other hand, can paint like a genius. The artwork in the living room that looked expensive was ones she painted and when you found out, your jaw dropped to the ground. Everyone in his family also knows how to play chess ridiculously well and everyone seems to know how to play some kind of instrument. Jungkook’s grandma is teaching Lia piano, his aunt plays violin, his uncle is dedicated to guitar and Jungkook tells you he used to sort of dabble in drums. You wouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be a musical genius. The gene pool of the Jeon family is just too strong. You can’t handle it. And it’s no wonder he’s good in the kitchen. Everyone in his family is spectacular at cooking. You nearly start crying at dinner because of the sheer delicious taste of every dish presented in front of you. You thought you were in Heaven. After dinner, there are games, and everyone calls it an early night to prepare for Christmas Eve the next day. By the afternoon of the eve, the adults all leave for last minute Christmas shopping while you and Jungkook stay at home to babysit the kids. “What are you two doing?” You approach said children when you finally snap out of the Charlie Brown Christmas special playing on the television, remembering it’s for the kids’ entertainment and not yours. The both of them at the small table, scribbling on some paper. “We’re writing letters to Santa!” “Oh, is that so?” You look over to see the chicken scratch. Eunbi can’t write yet so she draws pictures. “Wow, looks good. What does...this say?” “It says cooking stuff, silly!” “Right, silly me,” you laugh, endeared at how she wrote it as ‘Kooking’ like Jungkook’s name. “You want cooking stuff for Christmas?” “Yeah.” Lia nods enthusiastically. “I saw on tv this oven and you get to make stuff and stuff.” “Oh. You mean Easy Bake Oven?” “Yeah!” Her drawing isn’t bad for a seven year old. “What do you want for Christmas?” “Me?” You hum, considering it. “Maybe an A for my pastries class. What about you, Eunbi? What do you want Santa to give you tomorrow morning?” “Chocolate!” she shrieks with laughter. “She always wants chocolate,” Lia tells you listlessly. “Candy! Cookies!” You grin, lowering your voice like you’re about to tell them a secret. “Do you want to make cookies?” All at once, there’s a change. Eunbi gasps. “Yeah!” And Lia’s hand stops scribbling. “Can we really?” You shrug. “I don’t see why not.” It can’t be too hard. But you’re sorely, sorely mistaken. The moment you preheat the oven, Lia opens it and tells Eunbi to climb in — but you shut that down real quick, joke or not. When you melt the butter and turn around for one second, you come back to find Eunbi drinking the butter straight from the measuring cup. Her lips greasy as she grins. “Yummy.” “Oh my god—” You collect them together, keeping a reign for both kids. Calming down, you try to show them how to crack the eggs, but they’re clumsy and you end up having to fish eggshells out of the mixture. As you’re cleaning, you hear a thump. When you whirl yourself around, the floor is coated in white. The flour bag is upside down on the ground. “Uh-oh.” Eunbi giggles. Lia’s hands are covered in the all-purpose flour, but she points to her younger sister. “She did it! Not me!” You take a deep breath, mustering your patience. “It’s okay.” But it’s not okay. Not when they put in a cup of salt instead of sugar and you have to scoop it all out. Not when you wash their sticky fingers, clean their faces, and open drawers to look for a spatula to fold the mixture, but you hear giggles instead. Not when you slowly turn around to see them mixing the batter with their bare hands. But with a sigh, you give in. Some of their techniques are physically painful to watch and make you cringe, but as long as they’re having fun, you’re not going to stop them. Or at least until Eunbi sneezes straight into the batter. “Okay, alright, let's not do that.” “Can we eat it?” “Eat it? You mean raw?” Eunbi is already taking the cookie dough by the fistful. “Yummy!” “Not too much.” You cringe as you watch them taste it. “You might get sick! Hey— Jeon Eunbi, take your hand out of the chocolate chip bag!” The five year old grins, cherub cheeks rosy as her eyes glimmer with mischief. But after all the trials and tribulations, you finally get the tray of cookie batter into the oven. In the meanwhile, Jeon Jungkook comes downstairs with a towel draped over his shoulder. His hair is still damp but he came down at the ruckus. He stops at the doorway of the kitchen, freezing as he regards the surroundings. “I left for one shower.” “We made cookies, Kookie.” Lia grins with a milk moustache, sitting on the counter with her sister. “They’re almost done,” you tell him sheepishly. “We’ll clean up soon.” He hums as he looks at the floured floor and the sink overflowing with dishes. He wonders what happened. They’re just cookies — but it looks like a battlefield. You approach him with a mug. “I made hot chocolate.” “I thought chocolate was your nemesis.” Jungkook smiles, taking the cup. He notices the floating marshmallows and happily sips. “I can melt it,” you chide. “I know how to do at least that much.” You can hear giggles from the girls and at this point, you know it means they’re up to no good, so you turn around with your brow quirked. Jungkook is curious too and Eunbi answers the unsaid questions when she points above you both, right at the doorway. “Mistletoe.” Lia laughs. “Eww, are you guys gonna kiss?” You look at Jungkook, and he frowns. His expression wrinkles like he just bit into a lemon. “Gross.” “Gross?! Excuse me?!” You loll your head to the side. “I’m gross to you?” The boy grins. “Yeah. You are.” “Give me back that hot chocolate.” You try to grab at it, but his reflexes are fast. Jungkook moves the mug out of the way and then above his head where it’s out of your reach. “Nuh-uh. Finders keepers.” “But I’m gross, aren’t I? You wouldn’t want to consume something made by a gross person.” “I’ll make one exception.” He brings it down and quickly chugs the steaming hot chocolate. “It’s hot, you idiot!” you shout, but like the masochist he is, he downs it all with a groan. “Delicious.” Jungkook grins, wearing his milk moustache with pride. You shake your head. “You’re ridiculous.” He helps you clean and when the oven timer goes off, the scent of freshly baked cookies fill the home right in time as the adults arrive home. All twelve chocolate chip cookies are inhaled at an instant and you muse how the entire Jeon family has sweet tooths. You share a cookie with Jungkook and it’s delicious for the disasters you had to go through. The evening eventually settles in and they tell you about the family tradition of getting in ugly Christmas sweaters and taking a family photo. You’re touched when they show you the sweater they got, one in neon red plastered with dogs and cats in Christmas hats. Jungkook’s has batteries and physically lights up, and you can’t stop laughing. “I feel like a tree.” “You almost look as pretty as one, Jeon.” It’s cute when they waddle together in front of the fireplace and you wonder what it takes to have a family like this. “What camera are you using?” you ask. “I can take it for you.” “Oh no, dear. Don’t be silly! Come in, come in!” Jungkook’s grandma motions you over. His uncle moves to a cabinet. “We have a tripod!” But you hesitate. “Uh, are you sure?” “Why wouldn’t we? If you spend Christmas with us, you’re family. Get in here!” His mother moves aside. “Stand beside Jungkook.” Everyone shuffles, creating a perfect slot for you to join with the Jeon family. Jungkook even slings an arm over your shoulder, giving this biggest and most boyish smile of life. His uncle clicks the button and runs to his spot. The light begins to flash. “Everyone! Say cheese!” With one snap, the moment is engrained forever. Dinner is delicious like last night and it feels like you’re being stuffed like a pig. Your stomach nearly bursts at the seams and you would fall into a food coma if not for how Jungkook drags you along to go caroling with the rest of his family. “I’ve never been caroling before.” “Yeah, well, it’s something my grandma likes to do. She used to do it when she was young and she freaks out if any of us say we don’t want to go. Personally, I don’t like caroling. It feels like I’m a car salesman harassing people.” You know what he means when he’s swaying from side to side awkwardly on some stranger’s lawn while his dad knocks on the door and everybody else waits for it to open. Jungkook looks out of place. But the minute he opens his mouth to sing Silent Night — it’s fucking angelic. You’re shocked, like you found out the devil actually has a halo above his head. The lady and her child thank you all for the song and while walking, Jungkook finds you staring intently at him. “What?” “Since when did you sing?!” “I don’t.” “How can you say you don’t?! You literally sound like perfection.” The sudden praise makes laughter bubble out of his throat, a cloud of condensation emitting from his parted lips. His aunt turns around with a smile. “That’s what I’ve always told him. I’m glad someone else can recognize it.” “I remember when Jungkook was just a small boy,” his grandma pipes up. “He sang so well, knew all the lyrics, and all the neighbours were so surprised. He was so cute, even the grumpiest of grumps would be melting because of him.” “Remember when he would start crying if he didn’t get the main part or had the harmony?” “God, can we not talk about this?” Jungkook cringes. But you grin. “No please, keep going. I’m so curious now.” “Well one winter…” His mom hugs your arm, leaning into you like she’s sharing a secret. “He peed himself but didn’t want to tell anyone because he was scared caroling was going to be cut short and it ended up freezing in his pants. Poor child got a butt rash afterwards.” “You peed yourself for caroling?” you ask incredulously. “I don’t recall,” he deadpans. “Oh, he used to pee himself all the time,” Jungkook’s dad clarifies. “There was an incident on a plane—” “That’s enough of that.” He puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes you forward at a fast pace. You laugh as the two of you walk way ahead of the rest of his family and how Lia and Eunbi begin to sing-song that Kookie’s a bed wetter. Despite being out in the cold at night, you didn’t know your Christmas would end up so warm, surrounded by people who treat you as one of their own. You feel lucky. Privileged to be part of it. The rest of Christmas Eve is spent around a fire and the tree until it’s lights out at nine. It’s early again since the adults know that the kids will end up making it an early morning the next day. So with cookies and milk left out, you bid your goodnights. But their predictions end up exactly as said after many years of celebrating the gift-giving holiday together. Right at five thirty with the sun barely risen, you’re shaken away by Jungkook. “What’s going on?” Your bleary eyes blink and you rub at them. Jungkook’s tender grin and sparkling eyes are the first thing your vision focuses on. His hair shags over his forehead as he stares down at you. “Get up, sleepyhead. We’re all opening presents.” “It’s so early,” you whine, but he tugs the covers off anyhow and helps you stand on your feet. Jungkook ruffles your bed head. “I know.” The two of you make your way downstairs. The adults are already hugging their coffee cups while Lia and Eunbi tear up their gifts that Santa left them. Christmas melodies are turned on for background noise, and there are hugs and gasps given during the exchange of presents. You’re given one too. “For me?” “Yes, we managed to pick up something yesterday for you, dear. If Jungkook had told us beforehand he was bringing such a nice friend, we would’ve gotten something better.” You open up the box to find a red, wool scarf. The texture is soft and it looks warm enough to protect you from the cold Winter wind. You’re touched beyond belief. “T-Thank you, I love it.” “We’re glad.” “I-I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.” “Please, your presence is more than enough, sweetheart.” “I got this for you, Y/N!” Lia comes over with a piece of paper. “Eunbi and I drew it yesterday, well I did most of the work, but she drew you. Thanks for spending Christmas with us!” “I love it. Thank you.” Jungkook watches with a gooey smile. It’s good to see you like this — for once not moping around or crying after some guy that didn’t know your worth anyway. But what he catches him off guard further is when he’s tugged away into the hall by you. Your arm extends, holding a bag haphazardly. “Sorry, I forgot to wrap it,” you mutter, barely coherently. Your vision is diverted elsewhere, looking towards the ceiling so you can spare yourself the embarrassment of how he’ll react. But if you looked, you’d see that Jungkook’s grin could almost break his face. He takes it. “Isn’t this the souvenir you got at the rest stop?” “Well, I lied. It’s not a souvenir. Open it.” He does. Quickly. With much anticipation. You lean over to watch him. Inside the bag is a box. Jungkook tears it open to find a simple, white mug. But across the surface in black text, it’s written ‘Jungkook — World’s Best Chocolatier’. “I found an engraving place. Took ten minutes. It’s nothing. But see? I can be thoughtful. Sometimes…” You pause. There’s silence so you look at him to gauge his reaction. His face is blank, hard to read. Damn. You had second thoughts in the moment but you didn’t think he would hate it this muc— Suddenly, you’re being hugged. Jungkook has his arms wrapped around your shoulders, and he pushes you into his chest. “I fucking love it, you witch.” You smile, a rush of air leaving your nose. “Glad you like it, grinch.” He muses that you’re the most softhearted witch on the planet. Jungkook can’t yet pinpoint the reason why, but he knows without a doubt that this is the warmest Christmas he’s had.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook reader insert #bts fluff #Y'ALLL This chapter is so uwu I can't even

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demigodlunar · 3 years

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Scars - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Woman Up Levesque

Hazel looked down into the recent pages of her sketchbook, filled with drawings of gems and pictures of her mother’s face that she had drawn.

This day was the seventh anniversary of her mother’s death, and Hazel holed herself in her room every single year on this day, drawing her heart out until Nico came and sought her out to mourn together.

Pouring feelings she couldn’t share with anyone but Nico into the pages. A light knock at Hazel’s door startled her out of her reverie, and she let out a small noise she hoped sounded like ‘come in’.

Nico stepped into her room with red-bloodshot eyes and sat next to her on the bed. She felt bad for her brother… well, her half-brother. They had different mothers, but Nico was as brotherly as any brother was.

Nevertheless, she felt bad for him.

This was the same day that he had lost his real sister, Bianca, to the same people who killed Hazel’s mother.

Then, she felt angry. At herself.

She never came to comfort him on these days as he did for her. How could she be so selfish?

Nico pulled her into a hug, and Hazel was about to apologize for being so inconsiderate when the flashback hit.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hazel, baby.” Marie Levesque whispered with an anxious expression on her face and a maniac look in her eyes, “Your father will be here soon. When he comes, go with him.”

9-year-old Hazel quivered in her stance, but nodded and tried to calm her beating heart. Then, her mother hugged Hazel to her chest and stood up. She straightened her back and walked into a room, where the door closed behind her.

Not five minutes after Marie went in, Hazel heard a gunshot and a cut-off scream. Suppressing a shriek, Hazel went to the door and pressed her ears to the thin wall, hoping and praying her mother was safe.

“... kill the girl as well.” a commanding woman’s voice demanded on the other side of the wall.

This time, Hazel couldn’t suppress a scream, and the room fell quiet. Suddenly, a hand fell on her shoulder and she would have screamed again if the other hand hadn’t been covering her mouth.

She turned her head around to face her captor, shaking so hard she felt she might never stop. Her gold eyes met ones of pitch black.

Hazel had only seen that pair of eyes once in her life, when she was just an infant. Her father, Hades Di Angelo.

Hades put a finger to his lips and motioned behind him, silently asking her to follow him quickly. She complied quickly, following him into a dark alley. They had just rounded the corner out of sight when Hazel heard the door to the room bang open and what seemed like hundreds of footsteps pounded afterward.

Her father pulled her arm to follow him, and he led her to a sleek, black limo. There was no way her mother would- would have been able to afford that.

Hazel was no idiot, she knew exactly what had happened to her mother, but her thoughts were too muddled for her to properly grieve at the moment.

As they approached the car, both of them heard two voices that were trying to be quiet but completely failing.

“... shut up, Nico!”

“You shut up, Bianca, you're such a fun spoiler!”

“Oh yeah, well you’re a-”

Hades interrupted them, “What in Zeus’s name are you doing here? I told you two to stay at home!”

Two figures emerged from behind the car and Hazel’s heart almost jumped out of her ribcage. But these people weren’t dangerous, no, they were just two kids. The younger looking one was a boy, with black hair and chocolate brown eyes, olive skin, and a chipped tooth when he smiled at Hazel.

“Hi! I’m Nico!” was all he had to say to have Hazel cowering behind Hades, while the other, older girl elbowed him.

“Nico, that’s not nice! She’s scared, can’t you see? Father, why is she scared, and why are you here, and why do you look so scared?”

Hades had started shaking too, and opened his mouth to speak when they heard voices in the distance.

“There, I see somebody!”

Hazel’s eyes widened, and Hades' voice took on an urgent tone, “Kids, all of you. Get into the car. Get- get in! Go!”

In the dark, Hazel could see Nico and the other girl- Bianca- rushing to the car with them. The misty night air was cool against Hazel’s fiery red cheeks, hot from the impending danger.

She could see Hades get into the front seat of the limo, and she and Nico filed into the left side of the long car. They could leave, but there was something, no, someone missing. Hazel could feel her heart beating out of her chest, as she turned her head to the right window of the car, and could see Bianca struggling to open the side door.

What happened next was something that none of them could ever forget.

Hazel heard a loud gunshot and looked in horror as she watched Bianca’s body arc backward and a splatter of blood landed on the window. Hazel turned away, feeling the contents of her stomach trying to rise, and swallowed hard.

The car was silent for a second before they all heard yells, and Hades stepped on the gas, propelling the limo forward. When they got to Hazel’s new home, they all filed out silently.

The days that came afterward were full of heartbreak, and some sort of recovery.

Bianca’s funeral was held the next week, and though Nico warmed up to Hazel, he and Hazel would never be the same again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hazel opened her eyes, blurry with water, and saw Nico shaking her shoulders. She focused her vision on him and he visibly sighed in relief.

Pulling his arms away from her shoulders, Nico closed his eyes and murmured, “You had another flashback.”

Hazel groaned and sat back. She was sure that her flashbacks had ended last year, that she had been done with them. But as long as she remembered what happened that night, Hazel would never get over the flashbacks.

Nico clicked his tongue a couple of times just to break the silence, and Hazel cracked a smile. He smiled back, and a quiet pinging noise aroused from his pocket.

Nico drew his phone out of his pocket and squinted at the screen. After a couple of seconds, he spoke again.

“Jason is coming over. Thalia can’t make it, so I guess it's just the three of us,” he said, pursing his lips, and showing Hazel the screen.

Every year on this day, the two of them would mope, at least until their cousins came to drag them out of the dumps. And they would spend the rest of the day binging shows and movies and eating junk food. The fact that they still remembered brought a smile onto Hazel’s face.

They heard the doorbell ring from the other room. Neither Hades nor Persephone were home, so Nico and Hazel were home alone.

“Well, I guess Sparky is here.” Nico said with a grin, and he jumped off the bed and yelled: “COMING!”

Hazel got up too and followed Nico into the main room of the apartment. He was already at the front door, but when he swung it open, it wasn’t Jason standing there.

“Hey,” said someone who Hazel thought she would never see again.

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

-Blossom ;)

#percy jackon and the olympians #soulmates #percabeth #caleo #solangelo #jiper #frazel #heroes of olympus #pjo fanfic #pjo angst #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #hazel levesque

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septic-skele · 3 years

Text

UF - Out of Reach

Summary: Classic and Blue have it good with their brothers. They make displays of love and affection look so easy. Red can’t help but feel bitter about it. He stands no chance of ever having anything like that with his boss.

Well, not with that attitude about it, Blue says.

Red couldn’t understand it. Logically he figured it was because Classic and Blue came from drastically different backgrounds. They weren’t living with eye sockets in the back of their heads or half-formed, sharpened bones under their pillows like he and Boss did. They were probably just as baffled about him and his behavior, but there was something Blue had said once that wouldn’t leave his mind.

Red had walked in on a private moment and for reasons beyond him, he hadn’t taken a hasty shortcut back out. He stopped and stared and couldn’t help being taken aback when he saw Blue cradling his Papyrus’ skull against his shoulder, murmuring comforts to him. Red had never seen that casual, laidback Papyrus so drunk, weak and vulnerable, much less Blue so solemn.

“I love you, Papy,” he soothed. “I’d love you no matter the ‘reset’, whatever that may be—no matter the world, no matter the universe. A good, proper Sans would never give up on his brother, and I am just that.”

Good, proper. Red had no illusions of propriety but the idea of it nagged and frustrated him. Any time he had tried to console Papyrus in recent memory, it had ended with all the wrong things being said and door hinges buckling under the strain of being slammed.

Red already knew what Blue would say if he heard of this. “You can always try again! I believe in you, pal! You simply need to persevere! You’ll get through to him, I know it!” Disgusting.

The worst part of it, however, was that even Classic did it better than he could. Classic—depressed, cynical, apathetic, a liar to Papyrus’ face more often than not—still loved his brother better.

Somehow the six of them had survived a night in together, though the argument over the TV remote had almost come to blows and the throw pillows may have sacrificed some of their stuffing. Now that they were all retiring, Red wandered down the hall to hear strains of Classic’s voice from one of the nearby bedrooms. He didn’t sound anything like the blasé character Red usually knew; he was lighter, actually putting effort into this.

“…Peekaboo had become a game of hide-and-seek! Where could her friends have gone? Fluffy Bunny wondered, bounding across the green, green field to look for them. She searched high! She searched low!”

“She searched near and far,” Papyrus chimed in.

“You bet she did. She searched east and west, under rocks and up in trees. But Fluffy Bunny couldn’t find her friends anywhere! Wherever could they be?”

Maybe they ditched her for wantin’ to play such stupid games, Red mused with a snort, although as Classic continued he was distracted by an old, old memory fluttering forth.

He had spent hours poring over the dump, fishing out as many old, damaged books as he could find. Drained and shivering, he’d lugged them back to the nook where he’d left Papyrus, safely out of sight. Before he could find sleep, Papyrus had thrown himself over Red’s back and pitched a fit about learning how to read.

“Show me, brother! I want to do it like you do, I want to try! It doesn’t have to be the long one! Just show me how, please! Please, please, please, plea-a-a-ase!”

Red had capitulated only because he didn’t want the tantrum to draw unwanted attention, but that wasn’t the part that stuck with him. Papyrus had curled up against him, half-tucked under his coat, watching him trace letters with intent focus. As he haltingly sounded out the words, every small success made him light up like a star, clutching eagerly at Red’s ribs for his approval.

“Did you see that, Sans?! Did you hear me?! I did it!”

“Yeah, yeah. Pipe down, kid, I saw. Nice one.”

Red’s opinion and praise had still meant something to Papyrus back then. Stars, he was still willing to cuddle with him, despite the filth and the damp clinging to his clothes from the river.

Had Boss ever really been that hopeful, clingy little baby bones or was Red trying to convince himself that was how it had happened? It was so long ago. Pap could have just fished those books out and taught himself while Sans was away, trying to find work. That sounded far more likely.

“G’night, bro,” Classic concluded, sliding the book onto the nightstand and giving his Papyrus an affectionate squeeze of the hand.

Balking, Red ducked back toward the stairs before he could be found snooping, all too well aware of what Boss might do if he ever dared reach out that way. He’d probably end up losing a few fingers.

It wasn’t fair, something small and spiteful in the back of his mind huffed. The idea nearly made him miss one of the steps, torn between shock and scornful amusement. Since when had fairness ever been part of the equation? If things were fair…

If things were fair, they would probably look a lot like the scene he had just left, as well as the scene he was walking into now. Blue perched prim and proper on the end of the couch, surfing idly through channels. His brother was stretched across the rest of the cushions, head propped against Blue’s lap, swaddled up in blankets, the whole nine yards.

Jerks. They were intent on showing off now; they knew exactly how good they had it. Sparks of irrational anger crackled along Red's jaw and spine. If he had something immediately on hand to hurl at them, he would have, but he had already shucked off his boots and summoning a bone would be a waste of magic.

“Edgy me?” Blue called in a faux whisper, making him tense. “I would have thought you’d be asleep already.”

“Yeah, well, it’s kinda hard to rest easy with Classic jabbering on about fluffy bunnies through the wall!” Red snarked, louder and sharper than necessary. He took little satisfaction in the way Blue winced, resting a hand on Papy’s skull as if to muffle the noise.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” So genteel, so polite, he still offered an inviting smile. “If you’d care to come and join us, any of the chairs from the dinner table are free! Mweheh, I honestly have no idea how Papy sleeps like this; the side I sit on is the only one without mangled, broken springs. It’s probably all of his tossing and turning that’s done it. I’ve been meaning to get them repaired, but he hardly ever leaves the couch to let me at it! He really ought to—”

“Shut up already, would’ja? I don’t care! Besides—Tch, wouldn’t want to interrupt your cute little ‘brother bonding’ time.”

“Oh, no, y-you’re not interrupting anything! Did I imply that somehow? I’m sorry! If you want part of the couch, I can wake him and ask him to scoot over—”

“How d’you make it look so easy?” It broke free before Red could fully comprehend how irrational it would be to ask. Jaw clenching so tightly that his teeth squeaked, he drew back from his own brash demand. Blue tilted his head.

“I’m sorry?” That counted three times in this conversation that he’d apologized for nothing. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He should have retreated. He should have spat, “Never mind!” and transported to his room to seethe in privacy. Instead his foolish, fat mouth blundered on. “How d’you get him to do that?” He threw an irritated gesture at the sleeping lump on his lap. “How d’you make him…relax, with you there? It’s as if he likes having you around!”

Even that was saying too much and yet just enough. Realization dawned in Blue’s eyes, followed by—oh, stars, there was pity.

“Well, I…I’m not really sure. If there are no other comfortable surfaces around for him while he sleeps, I’m happy to help! The last thing he needs is a cramp in his neck. Heh, I’m not tall enough to fix that for him so why not try to prevent it entirely? We’ve huddled up ever since we were baby bones; it’s always been this way.”

Of course. Cheekbones flaming, Red ducked his head. They never had raging fights that lasted until dawn (or until they started losing their voices, whichever came first.) Blue and Stretch had it all sorted out from birth, cozy and coddled.

“…Papy always caught cold too easily. I’d make up some rather impressive beds for him with grass and water sausages so he wouldn’t have to sleep on the rock, but the dew would leave him shivering all night! I couldn’t let that stand! Those chattering teeth of his kept me awake too so I made the noble sacrifice and slept on the damp side while he nestled up to me.” Blue chuckled, an uncharacteristic note of something laced through it. “With our two shirts tucked together, we could almost imagine a full hoodie like he has now!”

“Wh—You? That’s rich.” That was decidedly not what Red had been picturing as a life that could spit out someone as sickeningly sweet as Blue. “You’re not tellin’ me you two were homeless.”

“I preferred to think of us as explorers!” Blue corrected. “I told Papy that we were on an adventure to find the perfect place for a new start. We experienced all that the Underground had to offer a couple of wandering baby bones: scavenging, hide-and-seek, games of chase with older monsters, who were rather poor sports when they couldn’t catch us. I grew strong and magnificent thanks to all of that exercise and my brother…well, he tried very hard!”

Red shuffled uncomfortably in place. Funny, how familiar all of those experiences sounded—but from someone else’s mouth?

“Then Papy fell terribly ill. He was poisoned, in fact. It was the first time I really wondered if I’d lose him.” Ignoring how Red startled, Blue glanced pensively down at his snoring brother, smoothing his fingers more gently over his skull. “It may have been an accident, but I was responsible for his safety; I should have been paying closer attention. In part it was my fault.”

“And he…forgave you for that?” An accident like that, caused by a slip in Sans’ attention, could probably get him disowned.

“On the contrary, he blamed himself! He blames himself for a great many things and he thinks most of them can’t be helped. I try, I always try to help. What’s infuriating is that he acts as if he doesn’t deserve it. Despite what you may think, there are plenty of times he doesn’t want me around. He shuts down, he pushes me away, he tells me I’m wasting my time.”

Red’s eyelights flicked off.

“Shut up, Sans. I don’t want to discuss it.”

“You idiot! Get away from me!”

“Useless. What a waste of time.”

“I think he’s scared of what might happen if he lets his guard down…Perhaps he thinks I’m not strong enough to face whatever is underneath,” Blue continued. “Perhaps he thinks that if he lets me too close, it will be the thing to drive me away for good. Nevertheless! With time and patience, I know I’ll convince him.”

“But how?! How am I supposed to—I mean, how do you keep trying when it never does any good?”

“It does do some good, I’m sure of it! I keep pushing to help him so he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that I won’t be driven away so easily. Maybe Papy just isn’t ready to show me the good it’s done yet. He has to learn to trust himself before he can trust me, but he can never say that I don’t care about him. I’ll show love to every part of him, even the bad, and it will be an influence for the better. I will break down those barriers!” Blue concluded with a fiercer grin.

A good Sans would never give up on his brother.

“Doesn’t it…suck?” Red ground out, hoping it wouldn’t be interpreted as an admission of weakness. Doesn’t it hurt? “When he shuts you out all the time?”

“Of course. I never said it was an easy task but it’s not within me to accept defeat!” Blue stopped up short then, holding his breath as Papyrus shifted against him. Neither Red nor Blue had been particularly careful about their volume.

After a few moments of adjustment, Stretch settled deeper into his blankets with a sleepy hum of contentment. Blue softened, eyelights aglow with such fondness that Red could almost feel a ripple of it in the air between them. It made his soul turn.

“He’s my only brother. We only have each other in the end. Isn’t that worth the effort?”

_____________________________________

If Red hadn’t been passing his boss’s room at precisely the right moment, he never would have heard it: a string of low, ragged gasps, followed by a rumble that could have been a groan or a growl. Sans grimaced at the sound, already aware of what was happening. Boss never made noise in his sleep unless he was injured, pain slipping through the cracks of his subconscious, or he was fighting a nightmare. Seeing as the last few days had been highly uneventful, it would be the latter.

Welp, that’s his problem. I’m not about to get impaled ’cause he mistakes me for his sleep paralysis demon.

That was habit speaking. Better reasoning caught him a few steps later, slowing him to a halt.

It would be easy to swan off, mind his own business and let Papyrus suffer on his own. It would have been easy to do it years ago too, when Pap was nothing but a scrawny baby bones who couldn’t have done anything about it.

If he hadn’t then, why should he now? It was Boss’s shouts in the morning that often woke him from dark dreams…He could return the favor and feel less indebted to him for it.

It was only fair.

Cursing his newly planted seed of a conscience, Sans pivoted with great difficulty and kicked a foot at the door with a small thump. No answer. He kicked again. The gruff breaths from within quickened.

“…Boss?” he ventured, clearing his throat roughly. “Hey. Boss.” Belatedly he realized that he had no proper excuse ready if Papyrus awoke and asked what he wanted. That might not go over well, but the circumstances were making it hard to focus. Those strangled groans were slowly but surely chipping away his first instinct of self-preservation.

He was definitely going to get impaled. One shot, -9999 damage and his life would be over, all for an attempt to be considerate, but he could hear it now in Papyrus’ voice. There was a scared little brat trapped inside the intimidating commander and that brat clearly still needed a big brother to drag him out of trouble.

Steeled for his impending doom, Sans jostled open the door. “Boss,” he began again as he poked his head in. “You’re makin’ noise, alright? You gotta—Whoa, whoa, whoa, that’s not good—”

Papyrus was a writhing, tangled mess in his blankets, some already torn where his claws had caught. Sweat and magic bled down his face, eye sockets sputtering and smoking in a flurry of colors as he choked for traction to cry out.

“Ngnnh—No, no—stop!”

“Boss?!” Sans stammered, surging forward. Of their own volition his hands got busy, dragging at the blankets to rend them free of Papyrus’ kicking legs. “Bro, hey! It’s okay, it’s just a dream!”

From there it must have only been a few seconds but to Sans it felt like an eternity before Papyrus lurched upright, already scrambling. He didn’t lunge to attack as Sans had expected but recoiled; it was only when he smacked his skull against the wall behind him that he came to a lurching stop.

“I-It’s just me, Pap,” Sans stated cautiously. He wouldn’t have dared use the old nickname under any other circumstances, but it seemed to clear some of the wild haze in his brother’s eyes. It took a beat for him to formulate an appropriate response.

“Get out,” he rasped. It didn’t hold a candle to its usual bite. He was still panting, disoriented. “What are you doing here?”

Which d’you want, an answer or me getting out? “I heard you…Well, I didn’t know if somethin’ was up. Maybe someone…broke in or somethin’, trying to get to you.”

“Oh?” Shoulders shuddering in what could barely be masked as a laugh, Papyrus shook his head minutely. “And what could you do to save me? L-Look at you. You’re not even armed.”

“And look who didn’t even wake up when I barged in here! The big, bad boss could’ve gotten killed in his sleep because he was too busy cryin’ like a—” By the greatest restraint he cut himself off, foreseeing how that would be received, but he’d said enough already.

“Get. Out,” Papyrus snarled, rediscovering vitriol enough for Sans to cringe.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Get out, you fool, this instant, or I’ll—!”

“I’m sorry, okay? I was worried!” That word felt taboo aloud. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright and you weren’t so I stayed to help.”

“There’s nothing you can do here, Sans; as always, you—you prove to be utterly inadequate! Your best course of action will be to close the door behind you.” Judging by the way his chin jutted out, he was clearly expecting that to be the last word.

“…No.” Tossing the blanket’s edge back to the floor, Sans squared up. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” The incredulity that flashed in Pap’s eyes should have cowed him but he had resigned himself to that already at the door. “I’m not just gonna leave you here, all jittery and crunched up against the wall. I can’t leave you like this. You’re not fine and I know if I try to say somethin’ to make it better, I’ll screw it up. Like you said, I always do. So let’s just skip that part where I do it wrong and get to the bit where you tell me what you need. What d’you need to feel better and get back to sleep okay?”

The following silence caught him off guard. Papyrus was never at a loss for further scathing remarks so why was he just staring at him? Moreover, where had his anger gone? He looked smaller without it, less like the Great and Terrible Papyrus and more like…

Papyrus. Red’s only brother. Hunched down, hands fisted into the mattress, micro-tremors trailing down his ribs as he breathed, he looked exhausted.

A minute passed. Maybe it was two.

Sans fidgeted, his nerve failing. “Boss, listen, I—”

“Tea,” he muttered, hooded eyes darting away. “If you really want to make yourself useful.” Sans hadn’t expected his soul to fill his throat at that response; something must have shown in his face, as Papyrus’ next grumble was even quieter. “You’re acting uncharacteristically generous with your work ethic. Why would I pass up this opportunity to make you work in the kitchen for once?”

Sans felt oddly light at the words as he nodded, turning for the door. “Gotcha.” He had never thought this day would come. For once in his life, he saw doing more work as a victory.

If it did some small modicum of good, if it made one miniscule chip in those walls between them, it would be worth the effort.

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sunnydaisy1 · 3 years

Text

Arts and Crafts

SAM WILSON X READER

A/N: there is not enough sam fics on tumblr so here I am. I haven’t edited this i am too tired for life right now. Also please send me requests for marvel especially peter parker, sam wilson, bucky, steve and scott.

You yawned as you walked into the main kitchen and living area the avengers shared. Tony had sent a message round to everyone telling them to gather here and considering that the time was 7 o'clock in the morning you weren't best pleased. Nat was leaning against one of the counters and snorted at your sleepy expression as you walked past her to the coffee machine. You glared at her and returned to your coffee making, rubbing your eyes as the machine started pouring caffeine into your mug. Once the steaming beverage was done, you sleepily dragged yourself to the breakfast bar and plopped down into one of the stools. At that moment, Steve, Sam and Bucky entered the room, obviously having just finished a group workout as they were all freshly showered and wafting man smell everywhere. You rolled your eyes at their annoyingly energetic selves and sipped your coffee. When Sam noticed your slumped form at the bar he smiled softly and walked over to you, scooting into the seat next to you and reaching out to take a sip of your coffee. Unfortunately for you, you were too late to prevent the smirking soldier from slurping a large proportion of your beverage. You grumbled and glared at Sam who passed you back your mug with a cheeky grin. "You look cheery this morning." He said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning onto the counter. "Well sorry mr early bird but some of us don't appreciate being woken up at the crack of dawn for a meeting stark called and hasnt even turned up for yet." You snarked back, causing a chuckle to fall from Sam, "It's quarter past 7 love, dawn was 3 hours ago." You glared at him for what felt the 100th time that morning and felt a small heat rise to your face as you saw the obnoxiously handsome smirk Sam held on his face and the way his biceps were bulging as they leaned on the bar top. "Same thing." You mumbled, draining the last drops of your coffee. Tony walked in and Steve grumbled a 'finally' as you all turned your attention to the billionaire carrying some pastries. He dumped them in front of you and Sam and you both instantly reached in to pull out breakfast. "What's this all about then Stark?" Sam asked as he chewed on his pecan twist. "Ive gathered you all here because we have got a charity event today for some of the schools in the area. You all will be hosting an activity for the kids. We have 2 hours until they all arrive." You grimaced as you vaguely remembered Tony mentioning the charity event a few weeks back but you had been so busy on missions recently you had forgotten. Judging by the similar looks on the teams' faces around the room, you gathered that the event had also slipped their minds. "So... Steve and Bucky you will be hosting the self defense taster down in the gym, a few agents will also be down there to ensure you aren't teaching them anything too aggressive..." Tony continued to list off everyone in the room and ticked off his checklist, "Okay and finally, Wilson and Agent L/N will be hosting arts and crafts in the downstairs hall." At once Sam spoke up, "wait why have I got stuck with arts and crafts?" You chuckled at his distraught expression, he obviously thought he was above painting and colouring. "Why you scared of a lil glitter Sammy?" You giggled and he glared at you, hating the effect that nickname had on him. "No...I just think my talents lie elsewhere." He replied causing you to snort. "Well suck it up Wilson." Tony replied and you saw Bucky and Steve wetting themselves on the other side of the room. Sam had obviously noticed too as he had a huge frown on his face and was scowling at them. "Alright everybody go get ready, all your supplies should be in the rooms already. And remember, 2 hours until they arrive." You sighed and stood up, placing your mug in the dishwasher. Sam was waiting by the door, and you nudged him as you both walked out, "Come on Wilson, cheer up, your stuck with me for 6 hours." Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, "Oh great." When you both reached the room, your eyes widened when you looked at the large pile of boxes brimming with craft supplies stacked in the middle of the room. "Jeeezz." Sam breathed out, walking over to inspect the mountain. You both opened the cardboard box lids and scanned the supplies, "Where do we even start?" You asked, baffled at the amount Tony had ordered. "Guess we just start with one box and empty them until it's all set up." Sam replied and you nodded, tying your hair up into a ponytail. Almost 2 hours later, the room had been transformed into a neatly organised explosion with paint, pencils, glitter glue and many other supplies on each table. "Okay, we have 5 minutes until the kiddos arrive." Sam stated, checking the watch on his wrist. "Cool, I'm gonna grab us some water and snacks from the kitchen. Try not to break anything while I'm gone." You teased and Sam playfully rolled his eyes, "Alright." When you arrived back into the room, arms loaded with bags of snacks, you immediately laughed at how awkward Sam looked surrounded by little kids all badgering him with questions. You quickly distributed the food into one of the empty cardboard boxes in the corner and walked over to Sam, giggling at his wide eyed expression of fear. "Hey everyone!" You said loudly, gathering all the little kids attentions, "I'm Y/N and this is Sam. We are gonna be doing arts and crafts with you today, how does that sound?" At once all the children cheered and you glanced at Sam who stood in awe and fear. "Okay then, lets all sit down at a table and we can start." The kids all ran to a chair and you walked over to Sam, "you okay Sammy?" He nodded slowly, "I don't know what I'm meant to do, they're so small." You chuckled and took his hand in yours, dragging him over to a table. "It'll be fine just relax, they can smell fear," You whispered. Soon, each child was creating some sort of masterpiece and you were sitting with a small group of kids who were colouring. "Wow Amy I love your dog it looks awesome." You commented, making the shy little girl beam. "Thankyou." She replied and you smiled, carrying on colouring a picture you had attempted to draw of an elephant. Glancing up to check on Sam, you looked to see he had a girl sat on his thigh as they both coloured something. You felt your heart begin to swell and butterflies fill your stomach as you watched the adorable scene. The girl was happily chatting away to Sam and he was nodding, laughing every so often and replying to many of the kids around the table. "Could you please pass me the green?" Tom asked, one of the boys sitting opposite Sam. "Yep, there you go." the soldier replied and Tom thanked him before returning to his drawing. The little girl sat on Sam's thigh tapped his arm and he looked down to her, "I want to give this to my Mum when I go home." Gracie said and Sam nodded, "that's very nice of you." Gracie blushed a little and grinned, "you should give your drawing to Y/N, then she could put it on her fridge like my mummy does." Sam glanced down at the image Gracie had drawn of Sam and you together that he was colouring. "I don't know about that..." He said and Gracie frowned, "you should give it to her and then she'll want to marry you and stick all your drawings on the fridge." Sam choked on his air a little, "why would she want to marry me because I gave her our picture?" Gracie sighed as if Sam had just asked the most obvious question there was, "because she loves you." "What? No she doesn't Gracie." Sam replied and Gracie shook her head, "Mummy told me when people love each other very much they look at each other in a special way and you and Y/N look at each other like that." Sam gaped at the little smiling girl on his lap and struggled to form any words at how outright she was being, "Oh urh no I dont think so." Gracie then giggled and said, "Plus Y/N was looking at your bum earlier so she definitely wants to marry you." Sam felt heat rise to his face and Gracie shrugged, not phased at all by their conversation. The pair continued to colour together and the topic quickly changed to the pasta Gracie had eaten last night for dinner. When the last few kids were leaving the craft room as it had eventually reached 3pm, you sighed and groaned at the mess of glitter and pens all around you. "I do not want to clear this up." You stated and Sam nodded, standing up from his chair, "Neither, I never knew kids could be this messy." You chuckled and glanced at the soldier walking towards you, instantly breaking out into laughter when you noticed the large red streak of paint across his cheek. At once Sam frowned and stopped next to you, "What?" You giggled and wiped your thumb across his cheek, showing him the red paint he had somehow managed to acquire. "Oh..." Sam said, rubbing the paint with the back of his hand but managing to just smudge it more. You chuckled and shook your head, "Sorry Sammy but your just making it worse." He huffed in frustration and put his hand down, giving up with cleaning his face, "Oh well, I'll wash it off later." Eventually, the room was turned back into a presentable state with only specks of glitter littered across the floor that you knew would be impossible to remove. You yawned and walked to the entrance, followed closely by Sam who turned the light off. "Im exhuasted." He said, trying to stifle a yawn. "Me too, I'm gonna head up for a shower." You replied and Sam nodded, "Alright, I'll see you later, chinese for dinner." You softly smiled and both walked to your seperate rooms, ready to wash off the paint and glitter encrusted into your skin. When you had given up on trying to remove all the glitter from your hair in the shower, you headed into your room and huddled under your duvet, wanting to catch up on some netflix before dinner. A knock at the door interrupted your series selection and you looked up to see Sam standing at your door, a small smile on his face. "Hey y/n." He said, closing the door behind him. "Hey Sammy, did you need anything?" You asked, confused why he looked so nervous. "Oh uh no, I just wanted to give you something." He replied, walking closer to you as you stood up and put your laptop on your cabinet. "Oh okay." You said, smiling under Sam's soft gaze. He handed you a sheet of paper and you frowned in confusion before turning it over and giggling. Sam rubbed the back of his neck nervously watching your eyes scan the drawing Gracie and him had made. "I know its stupid but I wanted you to have it." Sam said quietly and you looked up at his shy smile, "I love it." You grinned and he seemed to let out a breath of relief, "you can stick it on your fridge." You chuckled and rubbed your thumb over the drawing of you and sam standing together. "Thanks Sammy." The aforementioned soldier felt heat rise to his face and saw your eyes flick down to his lips. "Uh I should probably find Nat... see what she urm wants for dinner." You said awkwardly, trying not to focus on the way Sam was chewing his lip and the tight grey shirt he was wearing that unfairly showed off his chiselled chest and arms. "Oh right." Sam nodded, seeming to break out of a trance and opened your door, "I'll uh see you later yeah?" You nodded and he stepped out, looking at you one last time and giving you a small smile before disappearing down the corridor. You looked down at the drawing in your hand again and groaned, heart and muscles aching for you to run after the tall man and press your lips against his. Instead, you shut you door and walked to Nats room. When you knocked on her door, the red haired agent opened it with a knowing smirk on her face. "What's Wilson done now?" She asked and you groaned, stepping in to her room. You held out the drawing he gave you and Nat scanned it quickly before looking up at you in confusion. "Why have you got a drawing of you and Sam?" She asked, frowning. "He gave it to me." You sighed, causing Nat to laugh. "He gave it to you?" You nodded and Nat grinned, "wow he is so in love with you." You rolled your eyes at her sarcasm, "Wow thanks Nat. But seriously how am I meant to refrain from jumping his ass when he keeps doing adorable stuff like this?" Nat laughed and handed you back the paper, "You just need to go and tell him or you'll spend the rest of your lives dancing around each other and not doing anything about it." You sighed, "I know. But what if he doesnt like me back then I've just screwed up our friendship and the team dynamic." Nat nodded sympathetically, "I know it's scary but come on that man loves you to death and somehow everyone but you can see it." You looked down at the drawing again and nodded, "Fine, but if i end up dying on the spot from embarrassment after his rejection I'm blaming you." Nat rolled her eyes and pushed you out the door, shouting a 'good luck.' You nervously walked down the corridor and up the short staircase to the kitchen. Sam was leaning against the table, looking at something on his phone with a frown. Your heart instantly sped up and stomach did a hundred flips. You walked softly into the shared dining area and coughed lightly. At once, Sam looked up and smiled. "Urm I uh need to tell you something." You nervously stuttered, avoiding looking into his deep eyes. "Oh okay." Sam said, mind instantly running with negative ideas that you were hurt or he had done something wrong. "I urm well I... I think that you're urm." You looked up at him and his concerned eyes met yours. "Please could you uh turn around." Sam's face flitted with confusion, "wait what?" "I urm I cant talk with you looking at me like that." You said and Sam frowned but turned around. "Okay." He softly said, and you scanned his form, trying to build up the courage to tell him. "I guess I well I just want to say that I think you're the most lovely person in the world and I dont think that I could live without you Sam. You make me feel so comfortable and calm me down when I feel like the world is collapsing on me. You never fail to make me smile and I feel like the room lights up when you walk in. I love how kind and sweet you are to everyone but also how you make the stupidest jokes in the world and laugh your head off. I'm in love with you Sam and want to spend the rest of my life with you." You looked up to see Sam turning around to face you. You couldnt bear to meet his eye, knowing any possible friendship was now gone. A soft hand touched your cheek and lifted your head up, making your teary gaze meet his. "I'm in love with you too Y/N and I never want to leave your side." Sam pressed his lips against yours softly, making your heart stutter with happiness. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, deepening the kiss as his hands squeezed your hips tightly. "Hey sam whens the chinese.... oh." Bucky said, his voice trailing off when he saw his best friend passionately kissing you. He wolf-whistled and chuckled, "Took you guys long enough." Sam broke apart from your lips, resting his forehead against yours, "Fuck off Buck." Bucky sniggered and walked out the kitchen again, hand raised in surrender. You opened your eyes to see Sam looking at you, "I love you." You spoke softly, "I love you too" before pressing your lips against his again and smiling into the kiss.

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #sam #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson fic #sam wilson oneshot #falcon #the falcon x reader #falcon x reader #falcon imagine #anthony mackie x reader #anthony mackie #anthony mackie imagine #anothony mackie oneshot #sam wilson is life

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ada-mike · 3 years

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The Truth Always Comes Out - Digimon (Davis/Yolei)

Hey, guys, long time no see. Hope you’re all doing well, all things considered. I decided to dust off this blog and post a little FanFiction for a change! Fancy that. Why FanFiction for a fairly rare pair in a children’s cartoon from twenty years ago? Good question. I was honestly inspired by the work of a truly amazing writer @tanyatakaishi and their incredible story Innocent Games, whose sequel is currently in progress and definitely worth the read whether you’re into Digimon or not (but you should be into Digimon, i mean seriously?) But yeah, drop by and give Innocent Games a read, drop a comment and a kudo too while you’re at it. This short story I’m posting myself is so inspired by Innocent Games, it’s pretty safe to call it a FanFiction of a FanFiction, doesn’t really fit into any canon, and is just something I had rattling around my head that I needed to bang out. Please give it a read and let me know your thoughts! Stay safe, ya’ll.

- Mike

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In hindsight, he really should have known better. Yolei had always possessed an inquisitive streak to put it lightly (whether or not the matter being investigated was her business was rarely a concern) and she was typically about as adept at snooping things out as Davis was poor at hiding them.

And really, on his laptop of all places?

Davis, along with the rest of their friends, had spent his fair share of time around – as well as inside of – computers, but regardless, they were still Yolei's domain through and through, her expertise. And as his father had once told him many years ago, during a family trip to the supermarket where Davis had denied, despite being caught, that he'd tried to shoplift a pack of gum down the front of his shorts: The truth always comes out.

His thoughts were scattered though as they stumbled through the front door and into the blackness of the dorm he shared with Ken. Yolei was strung over his back like a long-legged, lilac-haired knapsack – having mounted him during the elevator ride, laughing, the liquor in her belly turning her playful.

The haze of alcohol still hung heavy in Davis’s mind too, enough so that his legs wobbled dangerously as he carried her through the blackness to where he approximated the futon was.

“Is Ken here?” Her breath was warm in his hair and the heat climbed up his neck to settle in the tips of his ears.

“Nah,” He said. “He’s with his parents this weekend.”

“Perfect.” She purred.

Davis picked up the pace, stumbling over a pair of soccer cleats in the dark. He spun in a circle, pulling a fresh laugh from Yolei, before depositing them both on the sagging futon cushion. Yolei sat pinned behind him, a little squished, but regardless it was the perfect position to plant sloppy kisses on his exposed neck. Davis squirmed, his heart racing.

“It doesn’t smell in here, does it?” He asked.

“Only a little.”

“It’s the trash, I bet. I haven’t taken it out since Monday.” He moved to rise, but she pulled him back into her lap, near growling:

“Leave it.”

“Mmm,” He hummed. “You like the funk, huh? It sets the mood for you?”

“You’re about to ruin the mood if you don’t shut it.”

“Such a way with words, love.”

Love.

That word. It was enough to diffuse squabble that had been sparking.

Davis sunk back into her and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling up and down his chest, then down his gut. He seized one of her hands and brought it to his mouth, kissing her sharp knuckles, the pads of her fingers, her wrist. It was surprisingly tender for him.

And it drove her absolutely wild.

Her free hand had just wrapped around the buckle of his belt, when the door to the bedroom creaked open.

“Davish?”

They both flinched as tiny feet pounded on the floor, leapt, then thudded lightly on the futon by their side. Yolei reached and flicked on the lamp switch by her head.

“DemiVeemon!” Davis was grinning at the sight of his partner, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I thought you’d still be sleeping, buddy.”

“I had a dream that we were on a boat! I wanted to tell you about it!” The in-training Digimon clambered onto Yolei’s knee. “Yolei, your face is so red you look like a tomato!”

“It’s hot.” She explained. And it was, the compounding moments of passion followed by DemiVeemon’s interruption had them both sweating slightly.

“Where’s Poromon?” The Digimon asked, unperturbed. Fresh from his nap, he was ready to play.

“Um- He’s spending the night in the Digital World.” She dug her nails into Davis’s side, causing him to wince in pain, the soft touches suddenly gone. “I kind of thought you’d be there too.”

“Nope!” Chirped DemiVeemon. “But we could all go now!”

“Tomorrow, buddy.” Davis brushed his hands over DemiVeemon’s ears. Even if a trip to the Digital World could be fit into their agenda, the phantom feeling of Yolei's hands on him was fresh and that very likely meant that standing up anytime would be a bad move. “But hey, you know, I think I still have some Udon in the fridge from yesterday. Ya hungry?”

“Yes!”

As DemiVeemon scampered away, Davis sighed and lifted himself out from between Yolei’s legs so he could sit beside her.

“Sorry about that,” He settled his arms on her shoulders, leaning close. “But where were we?”

“Davis, no.” She pushed him back. “I told you that I was taking Poromon to the Digital World so we could be alone tonight. Why didn’t you do the same?”

“I was going to. I just – I dunno, felt bad about dumping him there.” Davis rubbed his nose. The alcohol's buzz was fading from him now, much too fast for his liking. “He’ll be in a food coma in twenty minutes though, I guarantee it. Then we can get back to -”

“Hold on,” Her eyes sharpened into knives behind her glasses “You think I dumped Poromon in the Digital World?”

“No, I-”

“I did not dump him,” She continued, shifting further away on the cushion as she sat up straighter. “He’s helping out in Primary Village. I’ll be there to pick him up again tomorrow.”

“I know!” Davis felt a fresh wave of heat roll up his ears, annoyed that she was picking apart his words tonight of all nights. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.”

“I have no reason to feel guilty.” She folded her arms and sank back, eyes settling on the kitchen where DemiVeemon’s ears were casting shadows up the wall from the light of the open refrigerator. “He’s fine, just – dammit, Davis.” A heavy sigh billowed her lips, then: “You and I just got back together, what? Three days ago? And between school and everything, you and I haven’t had time… We needed a night like this.”

It was true. This most recent “break” of theirs had been a rough one and longer than any previous up to now. Almost an entire two months had passed where they barely spoke a single word to each other, only interacting when strictly necessary for Digimon matters, or the occasional late-night message over their D-Terminals.

Davis slumped back too.

“Tonight was a good night.” He said lamely.

She just nodded.

They sat in silence for a minute as DemiVeemon finished rummaging for food. He eventually waddled past them back to Davis’s bedroom, a warm bowl nearly as big as he was balanced on his head. All dreams of boats forgotten for the time being. Whether or not he had heard the beginning of their spat, Davis wasn’t sure. Regardless, he now wished his partner had stayed to break some of the tension that hung heavy in the room.

What he really wanted was another drink.

What he needed to do was apologize.

Instead, he lurched forward, propping himself on one arm as he reached over Yolei. She opened her mouth, ready to rebuke him again, until he reached past her and snatched the clunky laptop that sat on the end table.

It was five pounds heavier and just as many years outdated for anything Yolei would have considered satisfactory, but Davis had got it for a good price in a resale shop and desperately needed a computer for school. He grunted as he settled back in his seat and flipped open the lid, determined to find a way to break the awkward silence.

“Can I – um, play some music?”

He was already scrolling through his rather extensive music library, not waiting for an answer, but Yolei nodded anyways.

“Just no dub-step, please for the love of God.”

He chuckled and something in her chest unwound. He eventually settled on something, and with a double-click the room was filed with smooth guitar and steady drums. They listened, Davis nodding his head in beat and Yolei watching him.

“The speakers on that thing are awful.”

“Yeah.”

The song transitioned, adding more varied guitar and aggressive vocals.

“I haven’t heard this one before.”

“Ken showed it to me.”

“It’s good.”

“Yeah.”

As the song started to fade, Davis reached, without looking, and rubbed a line up and down Yolei’s thigh. She unfolded her arms, but before she could move further towards him, he was lifting the laptop from his lap and moving it into her’s. He stood up.

“Gotta take a piss.” He muttered, trudging towards the bathroom, tripping over the same pair of cleats as he went.

Yolei watched him leave, long nails tapping on the plastic laptop chassis. After the bathroom door closed and she heard him emptying his bladder into the toilet through the thin wall, she sighed and began flicking through his music.

She had gotten a little too defensive earlier and she knew it.

The truth was, she did feel a little guilty for parting ways with her Digimon, even if it was only for a night. Despite the lack of crises in the Digital World needing their intervention, it sometimes felt like she was shirking responsibility by turning more attention to other aspects of her life.

But she was older. She was busy – they all were.

Breaking up with Davis a few months ago had been a mistake, a rash decision after a stupid fight.

Drawing a good night out by coming home with him and arguing tonight had been a mistake. The wounds from the breakup were still fairly fresh. They couldn’t exactly just pickup where they left off.

Hell, maybe getting back together had been the mistake.

She wasn’t even reading the list of songs anymore as she scrolled. Her ring finger tapped a little too quickly on the arrow keys and the music program locked up from overestimation. Grumbling, she tapped more—even though she knew better—and the window was suddenly minimized, and then she was confronted with the egregious mess of folders on Davis’s desktop.

What immediately caught her eye was the folder labeled ‘Sexy Sexy Sexy’, and with that, any thought of innocently returning Davis’s music library vanished up in smoke.

Eyebrow quirked, she clicked and opened the oddly-named folder without hesitation. Of course she knew that most every guy had that particular folder stashed away. Having it on the desktop was definitely bold though.

What she saw though almost made her guffaw, and she struggled to steel herself.

The folder contained pictures upon pictures of different styles of ramen, most likely purloined from some high-end bistro’s online menu, judging by the nearly indecent high quality and their tiny watermarks in the corner of each. Nearly every photo was accompanied with an adjacent text document, containing what Yolei astutely guessed were Davis’s attempts at parsing out the recipe by looks alone.

This ramen folder was probably more organized and cared for than the one he used for homework, and a quick visit back to the desktop and to a directory simply dubbed ‘hw’ confirmed this.

Yolei glanced at the bathroom door. Things inside had gone silent, but if history and the number of sliders he ate at the bar were reliable indicators, Davis would probably be preoccupied for a few more minutes. She had plenty of time.

Yolei cruised through the rest of his desktop in record time, finding nothing of note outside of a few folders containing game roms, a second folder of his own home-brewed ramen recipes, and much to her surprise: an alarming amount of digitized Shoujo manga, definitely pirated. She filed that away for teasing ammunition later.

Now, to find the really good stuff.

Her practiced fingers danced over the keyboard, running a shell command to search for recently accessed items. Buried in several sub-folders was one entry that caught her eye, a single folder with a timestamp indicating it was opened just an hour or so before he’d picked her up for their date earlier that evening.

The folder was named ‘yolei’.

A swirl of emotions flooded her as she opened the file with her namesake, and she found it was a dumping ground of yet more photographs.

Instead of gratuitous snapshots of food however, they all featured her.

Yolei immediately recognized a series of selfies she’d sent him herself – some as early as when they had first started their on-again/off-again relationship years ago. It had never occurred to her that Davis would be the type to save them anywhere but his phone. It was surprisingly sentimental of him.

An image of Davis lying in his bed, clicking through and lovingly studying a slideshow of her, sprung to mind and she felt a warm swell of affection for him. She had done something similar on occasion, when their respective university work had kept them apart for multiple days on end.

There were other styles of pictures too. As she scrolled further, she found photos they had taken together at her high school graduation ceremony, shots of them at a beach trip, and one from her recent birthday where he’d tried to wrestle her face into the cake. She couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

She came to a stop at one photo in particular, the image’s age betrayed by how grainy it’s quality was.

They couldn’t have been older than thirteen. Davis was round-faced and grinning in the middle, one arm slung over Ken to his left and the other over a mildly miffed Kari. T.K. stood on Kari’s other side (Yolei had forgotten about that silly hat he used to wear) and on the opposite edge stood Yolei herself, all spindly limbs and thick, round glasses—stained brilliant white from the flash of the camera.

Their Digimon partners stood huddled around their feet and Yolei felt a fresh pang when her eyes fell on Hawkmon.

She scrolled further, perhaps more quickly than necessary, but then came to a screeching halt.

“Bastard.” She hissed, an angry blush spreading across her cheeks.

“What?” Davis had somehow exited the bathroom and was halfway back to his seat. Yolei had been so engrossed in her recent discovery she hadn’t even heard him flush.

Without missing a beat, she twirled the laptop around and pointed the screen at him accusatory.

“What the hell is this?”

To his credit, Davis had learned since the gum smuggling attempt in his youth that it was best not to lie when he’d be caught.

“Oh,” His mouth formed a perfect O-shape. Now he was blushing too. “I can explain-”

“You better!” She rattled the laptop at him, the hinge wobbling dangerously. “I told you to delete these, Davis!”

It had been her one demand when they had broken up most recently. He had listed several himself, including the unconditional return of the multiple sweater-shirts she’d swiped from his dorm. She considered this a devastating blow, as they made the perfect sleeping shirts in her opinion. But to be fair, he actually needed them more than she did, his winter wardrobe being sparse as it was.

“I did delete them!” He shot back.

“Oh—that is so obviously not true.” She flipped the laptop back around so she could look at them again. The photos were definitely there, present and accounted for, completely not deleted. Her eyes were flashing as she glared back up at him. “Why did you keep these?!”

“Look, you specifically asked me to delete from my phone,” He explained. “And that’s what I did.”

“Oh, so you thought you could keep these on a technicality, huh?”

“We’re back together now so why does it matter?” He threw his hands in the air. “They’re not even that bad of pictures.”

“They’re disgusting.”

Davis chose not to argue with that. Certainly most of the photos could be construed as less-than appealing.

His laptop currently contained the only copies in existence of seventeen candid photos of Yolei, caught in various stages of sleep, sickness, and general foulness.

It had started as kind of sweet. On one of the nights she had slept over he’d woken first, and had snapped a quick picture of her face as she slept rather serenely, messy hair splayed over his pillow. When he’d showed her the picture later, he’d called her beautiful. She made a show of rolling her eyes, but smiled and blushed all the same.

For the second photo, he’d caught her while she was trying to subtly pick her nose.

It had kind of snowballed from there.

“Why were you even going through my laptop anyways?” He demanded in turn.

“I was looking for music.” Yolei turned her nose up matter-of-factly.

“In my pictures? Yeah, Right.”

“You’re missing the point.” She waved her hand as if his words were a fly buzzing by her ears. “This is a major breach of privacy.”

“Now that, you’re right about.” He stepped forward finally and reached for his laptop, but she pulled it to her chest.

“I mean my privacy, you jackass.”

“I took those, so they’re actually mine.”

“But they’re not pictures of you, are they?” She looked down, scrutinizing one of her in an unseemly, homemade guacamole facemask, filename: ‘she-hulk’. She had seen all these pictures before at one point or another, usually accompanied with some gentle ribbing at her expense, but seeing the collage now felt entirely different. “Davis, how could I ever trust you again? You promised me that you’d get rid of these.”

She was right of course, and that caused the words to sting all the more. Davis was near a hundred percent sober now, but his vision still blurred. Hot tears of shame, and a heaping dose of frustration, pricking his eyes. He fought and managed to keep his voice level, mostly:

“Yeah, well... how am I supposed to just go around like it’s nothing when you could be sniffing through my drawers every time I turn my back?”

She didn’t have an answer for that.

A half minute passed where neither said anything. The music from the laptop was still playing passively, shuffling through Davis’s library automatically and currently playing some upbeat video game OST Yolei didn’t recognize. Eventually he moved and sank down onto the futon with her again, a few inches of space between them, and both their eyes settled on the gallery of photos still on display on the glowing screen in Yolei’s arms.

Davis remembered telling his friends oh so recently that he and Yolei were back together. Tai and Izzy had exchanged a quick glance, a silent exchange of barely-contained, mild exasperation. He imaged them placing bets on how long he and Yolei would last this time and pictured money exchanging hands when he broke the news that they were surely once again parting ways-

“That was the most sick I’d ever been in my entire life.” Yolei muttered suddenly, indicating one of the pictures. “I literally thought I was dying.”

He chuckled despite himself.

“Your nose is so red there.”

“Yeah, the tissues from I-Mart were like sandpaper. They still are.”

“Red looks good on you though.” Their eyes met then, and Davis continued quickly, stammering slightly. “I mean, not many people can pull off crimson flight pants, but- um… you did.. for years.”

Her face had an unreadable quality to it, and it seemed as if she might respond with something, but then she turned away and began scrolling through his computer again. He noticed her eyes weren’t focused though and he didn’t have it in him to try and dissuade her from searching still. There was nothing else to find anyway.

“Why do you even have this folder?” She asked, eyes forward.

He debated with himself for a few seconds, then decided on the truth.

“I like… having photos. You know, of you.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And when we broke up last time, and you told me to delete all those ugly pics of you, I did.” Yolei’s mouth opened to object, but he continued before she could interject. “I really did. I honestly just forgot that they were on my laptop with everything else too, and when I saw them later, I just… couldn’t get rid of them.” He stared at her profile, tracing with his eyes the lines of her cheek, the bump on her nose. “I really thought this last time was the real deal.”

“Me too.”

“Do you think we should break up again?”

“I don’t know.” Even though they weren’t quite touching, Yolei felt him stiffen by her side. She closed her eyes, and said her next words to the blackness of her eyelids. “I don’t want to.”

He breathed out, the air leaving him as if released from a balloon.

“God, me neither.”

She twisted on her seat, opening her eyes to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry for looking through your laptop. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay.” He responded quickly.

Yolei continued anyways.

“If I’m being honest too, I was looking to see what kind of porn you had saved on here.”

“What?” Davis balked. “Seriously? Why would you think I had… that stuff… on there? I don’t even…” He shook his head, the image of incredulity. “I don’t even watch that.” Yolei watched him steadily, a single brow raised. “What? I don’t!”

“Sure. We’ll talk about that some other time.” She was only half teasing.

The promise of ‘some other time’ bolstered his spirits quickly. He eyed his laptop in her hands, suddenly loathing the pathetic thing and how he’d used it to hide away the secret vestiges of what he had once thought would be all that remained of his and Yolei’s relationship. She had owned up to her transgressions.

What he needed to do was apologize.

Standing, he pulled the laptop from her slack grip before she could argue, and looking her dead in the eyes, gripped each half of the computer and snapped it in half along the hinge. The music died with a pitiful wheeze and splinters of plastic flew everywhere, a few bouncing off Yolei’s glasses to disappear into the fibers of the rug at her feet.

“Davis!”

“I shouldn’t have kept those pictures.” He discarded the broken halves of the computer, speaking passionately. “I want us to start over fresh, okay? I don’t want any dumb secrets or anything like that to cause any problems. I want you to trust me, because I trust you – I really do.” He swallowed hard. “I still love you, Yolei.”

Her eyes shone and laughter bubbled in her throat.

“But you computer-”

“I needed a new one anyways. You can help me pick one out!”

“Yeah, but,” She wiped her eyes clear. “What about all the other pictures? My graduation, the Digimon?”

“I still have those on my phone, no worries.”

“And your homework?”

“My homework?” It took a second for Davis’s brain to catch up. His eyes passed from one broken piece of the laptop to the other, then his hands rose to bury themselves in his hair. “Oh shit, shit. My mid-term paper is saved on there...”

Yolei wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, but instead she reached out and pulled him to her. She gently unwound his fingers from his hair and twined them with hers. She kissed him and kept pulling until he was climbing onto the battered futon with her, then over her.

In the morning, she would take off the back panel of his broken computer and pull the hard drive. She’d help him recover his homework and maybe, just maybe, a couple of the more agreeable photos that she would allow him to keep.

For now though, he didn’t need any of the digital keepsakes. As far as either of them were concerned, any number of pictures paled in comparison to the real thing.

For now though, she held him close and breathed in his ear.

“I love you too.”

When DemiVeemon bounced back into the living area sometime later, he found the pair asleep and huddled under a blanket together on the futon. The small Digimon took in the mess on the floor, the couple’s mussed hair, their slow and steady breaths, chests rising as one. Of course, he had heard every word of their argument from Davis’s bedroom, but he was used to the ruckus by now and too preoccupied with his noodles to care. Anyways, no doubt there would be many such squabbles in the future for him to witness.

He decided to let them sleep for now and bounded to the kitchen in search of a mid-night snack. He would just have tell Davis about his dream some other time.

#digimon #davis motomiya #daisuke motomiya #yolei inoue #miyako inoue #daivis/yolei #daiyako #demiveemon #my fanfiction

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