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lamptracker · 3 years

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Untitled Han Jisung Fic

Officially, it has no title. I could not think of one.

Unofficially the title is “Eris Said I Didn’t Have to Give This a Title”

At any rate:

Untitled Han Jisung (Stray Kids) Fic

Pairing: Han Jisung/Female Reader

Summary: Jisung and the reader celebrate their one-year anniversary. The other seven morons members show up at the end.

Warnings: Mediocre smut, some language, tooth-rotting fluff at the end. Oh, and no title

Author’s note: This is based on an idea that @jisungiesbunnie came up with for Valentine’s Day, but since I could not get my shit together in time for that I changed it to an anniversary celebration.

You carefully pulled the cheesecake out of the oven, smiling to yourself as you gently shook it. The center of it wobbled slightly - perfect. Just like everything else you’d had planned for tonight.

It was your anniversary with Jisung, one year. One year of inside jokes, of laughter, of love… and, you had to admit, one year of the best sex of your life.

Jisung was everything to you. He was your best friend, your confidant, your sounding board, your biggest cheerleader. You loved him, so much. And tonight, you had grand plans to show him just how much.

You’d told him that you’d had to work late that night, and would be perfectly content celebrating another night. But, of course, you didn’t have to work late. Instead, you’d gone to the dorms to surprise him with dinner and his favorite dessert. You had to get the other guys out of there, at least for a few hours. So you gave Chan some money (“I don’t trust those guys,” you’d said; Minho threw a pillow at your head) and told them to go out and do something fun. So off they went for dinner and shopping and who knows what else (not that you really wanted to know), while you made dinner and cheesecake.

“Hey, guys, I’m home.” The front door opened, and you did your level best to not drop everything you were doing and immediately run into your boyfriend’s arms. Instead, you stayed in the kitchen, waiting for him to discover the surprise. “Um… hello? Where is everyone, uh… oh, wow, something smells good. Hey, Felix! What’s cookin’, good lookin’, huh?” Jisung poked his head into the kitchen. “I...oh, whoa, you’re not Felix.”

You giggled softly. “How astute of you.”

His confused expression softened into a wide smile; chuckling, he immediately walked over and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I thought you had to work late,” he said, burying his head in your shoulder.

“I might have made that up so I could surprise you.” You gently kissed the top of his head.

“Where is everybody?”

You laughed. “Threw some money at them and told them to have a good time. Chan promises they won’t be back before ten. So… we’ve got the place all to ourselves.”

“This is amazing.” Jisung lifted his head, smiling. “I’m sorry I called you Felix.”

“Hey, he’s a really good cook. I take it as a compliment.”

“I’m glad you’re not Felix, though.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy. But he would never let me do this.” He pulled you close to him, gently pressing his lips to yours. Your hands moved up to his hair, gently curling around the short strands as the kiss deepened slightly. Just as his hands slid down your lower back, a loud buzz filled the air.

“Oh!” You pulled away from him abruptly. “That’d be the air fryer.”

Jisung eyed you skeptically. “You didn’t cook Hyunjin, did you?”

“He wouldn’t fit,” you replied without missing a beat. “We’re having chicken.”

Jisung threw his head back and laughed; you absolutely adored that sound, and the fact that you were the one making him make that sound.

“Do you need help setting the table?”

You shook your head as you pulled two plates out of the cupboard. “Just get washed up, I’m pretty sure you haven’t washed your hands since lunch. I’ve got this, baby.”

“You’re sure?”

You nodded. “Now scoot, I’ve got a table to set.” You dramatically shooed a now-giggling Jisung out of the kitchen.

While Jisung washed up for dinner, you finished setting the table and started to plate the food. Jisung walked back in as you poured two glasses of wine.

“Wow, babe, this looks really good.” Jisung pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“It’s our anniversary,” you replied simply. “I think you deserve a little spoiling.”

“Well,” he said as he pulled out your chair for you, “thank you.”

“What do you want to watch?” Jisung asked. Dinner and dessert was long behind you. The food (not to toot your own horn or anything) was delicious. The conversation was, as always, fantastic. Jisung had a way of telling stories that had you hooked from word one. Even his simple story of going to the convenience store the other night with Minho and Jeongin to get slushies became an epic tale.

Now you were settled on the couch, trying to decide what to watch on Netflix. To be honest, nothing sounded good. You didn’t really want to watch anything. But you knew what you wanted to do…

Wordlessly, you gently took the remote from Jisung’s hand and set it on the end table next to the couch. Jisung started to ask you what you were doing, but his breath caught in his throat as you swung your leg over his lap.

“Oh,” he breathed as you straddled him. “Don’t want to watch anything, huh?”

“No, there’s one thing I wanna watch.” You leaned down, your lips grazing the shell of his ear as you whispered. “I wanna watch you cum, baby.”

“I like the way you think.” He reached up slightly, pressing gentle kisses to the side of your neck. “Right here?”

You nodded. “We should put a towel or something down, you know how Chan gets.”

“You do that-” his lips traveled down your neck, stopping just above your collarbone - “and I’ll grab a condom.”

You gasped as he harshly sucked on the spot. You knew there’d be a mark there later, but you really didn’t care. “Okay.” You quickly hopped off his lap and ran to the linen closet for towels while Jisung dashed to his bedroom. Carefully but quickly, you spread the towels on the cushions and quickly disrobed. As Jisung re-entered the living room, tiny foil packet in hand, you leaned casually back on the cushions.

Jisung groaned slightly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Not without you.”

“God, I have the best girlfriend ever.” Jisung made quick work of taking off his clothes; you bit your lip as your eyes traveled over his toned body. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but it stirs something inside of you every time.

Jisung sat on the couch next to you, ripping open the condom and carefully sliding it onto his rock-hard shaft.

“Would you ride me?” he asked, quietly yet confidently.

You nodded as you straddled him again, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“Before we get started,” Jisung said breathily, “how much foreplay are we talking here?”

“Next to none,” you replied, eyebrows raised. “I’m so fucking horny right now, it won’t take me long at all.”

Jisung whined softly. “Fuck, you’re the greatest.”

“Save the praise for the end, baby boy.”

“God, I love when you call me that,” he said as you gently lowered yourself onto him.

“I know.” You gripped his shoulders slightly while you started to roll your hips slowly.

“Feels so good,” Jisung moaned. “Always does.”

“Mmm, yeah.”

One of the things you loved best about sex with Jisung was, it didn’t need to be vocal. You didn’t feel the need to constantly make sounds of approval, or tell him how good it was. He knew just by the look on your face, the way your eyes fluttered closed when something felt right, the way your mouth fell open when you were close.

And he was the same way. The corners of his mouth perked up when you did something that feels good - like when you sped up as you rode him. His eyebrows raised slightly as you dug your fingernails into his shoulders, not too hard, just hard enough for him to notice. And as his orgasm approached, his breathing hitched, his hands flew to your hips, and he bit his lower lip as his head fell backwards slightly and his eyes screwed shut.

“Oh, babe,” he panted, “I’m so close.”

You leaned down slightly, so your breath danced around his ear. “Let it out for me, Jisung.”

And with a loud groan, he did. As he rode out his high, his hips stuttered up against yours; that was all you needed to tip over the edge. Your mouth fell open and you buried your head in the crook of his neck; your legs shook as the sensation washed over you in waves.

When both of you were spent, you pushed yourself up slightly so you could smile softly at him.

“Hi,” you whispered.

Jisung smiled back at you; his eyes fluttered open, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. “Hey,” he replied.

“That was…”

“Awesome, yeah.” He tapped the tip of your nose with a finger; you scrunched up your nose and he giggled softly. “I hate to be a mood murderer here, but we should really get cleaned up before the Dork Squad gets back.” “You’re right.” You gently pulled yourself off of him; he let out a soft whine at the loss of contact. “Oh, stop that, I’m staying the night. We can do it again.”

He laughed. “I know, it’s just… I miss you already.”

You shook your head as you smiled. “Just get rid of that and get dressed, already.”

Half an hour later, you and Jisung were cuddled up on the couch, watching Netflix. The door swung open, and Jisung’s bandmates came spilling into the room.

“Hey!” Hyunjin called out brightly. “How was the big anniversary dinner?”

“Oh, it was awesome!” Jisung said, a smile creeping across his face. “(y/n) made dinner, and dessert.”

“Cheesecake from scratch,” you interjected. “There’s a ton of it left, if you guys want some.”

“Score.” Changbin immediately headed toward the kitchen; Chan laughed at him.

“Well,” the de facto leader said, “I’m so glad you guys had a good -” Chan stopped mid-sentence; he raised a finger in the air, sniffed slightly, and his eyes suddenly grew wide. “Wait just a second,” he said. Then, pointing at the two of you, he exclaimed loudly: “Y’all fucked on this couch, didn’t you?!”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Jisung asked, as innocently as he possibly could, even batting his eyelashes for effect.

Chan tsk-ed loudly. “You did! I knew it! You horny little shits!”

“So what if we did?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “We used protection, even put down a towel first.”

“It’s… I… we sit on that couch!” Jeongin sputtered, flustered.

“I don’t care if y’all had six towels on it,” Chan grumbled, “that is unsanitary.”

“Anybody else got anything to say?” Jisung asked as you burst into laughter. Unsanitary. That is hilarious.

“Hey, man,” Minho said, raising his palms in somewhat self-defense. “What you two do on your own time…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Seungmin agreed. “Just don’t give me details, okay?”

Felix grinned widely. “I love,” he said, “that you two love each other so much that you just couldn’t wait to show each other. You had to do it right now. Isn’t it romantic?”

“It’s gross,” Jeongin protested.

“It’s kind of sweet, actually.” Hyunjin nodded. “When’s the last time any of us felt like that about someone, huh?”

“I don’t care.” Chan huffed loudly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “That is disgusting, doing that where…”

“I wouldn’t talk,” Hyunjin interjected. “Especially since you and Yuri did it in the shower not two weeks ago.”

“What?” Chan’s face turned tomato red. “How did you…”

“You left the door open.” Hyunjin shrugged as he brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. “By the way, has she called you since then?”

“Said something about her mom’s dog being sick… she’s not calling me, is she? I mean just because I… whoa, whoa, whoa! This isn’t about me! It’s about Jisung and (y/n) being unhygienic!”

“Unhygienic!” you wheezed as you dissolved into laughter.

“We use that shower!” Jeongin yelped.

“It cleans itself!” Chan shouted back. And with that, the seven of them left the room, squabbling the entire way; Changbin doubled back, cheesecake in hand, and ran up to the two of you, fist raised.

“Awesome,” he said. “Mad respect, you guys.”

Jisung laughed as he gave Changbin a fist-bump; you gently tapped his fist with yours as well.

Changbin flashed a toothy, goofy grin at you as he ran back out of the room.

“I’m sorry about them, as usual,” Jisung said quietly as you laughed.

“Oh, baby, no need to apologize. Sounds like Hyunjin got custody of the brain cell today, though.”

It was Jisung’s turn to laugh. “Seriously, though? This has been the best night. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You pressed your lips to his as his arm snaked around your shoulders, drawing you closer.

“Oh!” He pulled back suddenly, taking his arm off your shoulders. You cocked your head to one side in confusion, watching as he pulled one of his silver rings - his favorite, you noticed - off his finger.

“Jisung? What are you doing?”

“I want you to have this,” he said, almost shyly. “You are the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, and I want you in my life for a long time. I don’t know that I’m ready to be married just yet, but I know that I don’t want to be apart from you for any longer than I have to. I promise to always be near you, whether that’s in person or not. And I… I want you to take this as a reminder of that promise.”

Tears rimmed your eyes as he slipped the ring onto your finger (you are very lucky in that your hands are about the same size). “Oh, Jisung. This is so sweet, thank you.” You reached up, kissing him softly. “I guess I shouldn’t leave you hanging and tell you I feel the exact same way, right?”

Jisung laughed quietly. “I figured you did, love. I just… I love you.”

“I love you.” You snuggled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you again and he unpaused the show. Your thumb rubbed softly against the metal band now circling your finger. You loved this man, more than you’d ever dreamed you could love anyone or anything, and it was a thrill to know he loved you too.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #han jisung #han jisung fanfic #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #i think i scarred poor i.n for life #oh well looool

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wifeofkimtaehyungofbts · 3 years

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Chapter 11

>> Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N, Taehyung x reader

>> Words: 2,379

>> Notes: I’m going to upload a new chapter whenever possible. Please bear with my hectic schedule! You may leave asks and let me know what you think of my writing (:

Synopsis: You run into a rather strange man one night. He seems terrified, as if fighting battles only he can see. He seems detached from the world, talking only to a voice inside his head. Oh, another strange fact: he keeps talking about angels. You discover later that you were the angel he was praying to.

>> Previous / Next

“Hey"

I jolted at the sudden voice echoing against the walls of the eerily quiet changing room of the McDonald’s.

Jungkook was leaning against the door. His apron was thrown over his shoulder and he cocked his head at me.

“Wanna go out tonight?”

“Huh?” I wasn’t quite sure I heard him right. Jeon Jungkook. The guy that hardly ever talks to anyone. The handsome guy who shies away from girls at the cashier trying to get his number. The guy who leaves work without sparing a second for an after-work chat with his colleagues. Wants to go out with me?

I continued to stare at him in shock. Instead of breaking the awkward silence between us, he stared back at me. His dark chocolate brown eyes looked deep. Not in the romantic sense. It almost seemed like there was an entirely different person behind them. If the person differed from the one who stood before me in a good way or a bad way, I couldn’t tell. But what I could tell was that if I didn’t reply fast, we'd be staring into each other for all of eternity.

“Don’t you have work?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You are supposed to fill me in tonight because Felix had an emergency at his house and couldn’t make it”

“I got someone else to cover for me" he shrugged.

I wanted to know more but I figured it didn’t really matter as long as my shift was covered and he didn’t get into trouble either.

“Gimme a minute. I need to wash my face” I said turning my back on him.

As I busied myself removing my hair tie and gathering my hair in a bun, I felt someone lightly brush against my back. I wanted to turn but it felt too cold.

“You look beautiful Y/N" Jungkook whispers, his warm breath blowing the hair at the top of my head.

In reflexive panic, I grabbed my bag pack and dashed to the girl’s bathroom. I couldn’t calm my racing heart as I tried to shake off the eerie coldness I felt a few seconds ago.

Why did Jungkook come onto me so suddenly? And what’s with the compliment? I mean sure, thank you but it felt so off. He didn’t sound sweet or shy when he said it. He sounded stern, like he was stating a matter of fact I better believe else.... else?

Else what, Y/N? He was going to kill you??

I slapped myself for overthinking and washed my face before hurrying to the front. My colleagues were busy with customers so I couldn’t wave them goodbye. I stepped outside to the chilly air, spotting Jungkook standing by the road. I walked up to him and smiled warmly.

He looked down at me and smiled back. “Do you like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t!” I giggled, already drooling at the mere idea of pizza.

He laughed as we started walking towards the Arthur’s Pizzeria around the corner.

We were seated by the window across from each other. The table was too big for just us two, but we were glad no one else attempted to sit with us. It was fine, just the two of us.

We ordered our pizzas and spoke about ourselves as we waited for the food.

I found out Jungkook is from Busan and he was studying music at the campus. He was in fact a top graduate from Busan Arts School along with some guy whose name Jungkook doesn’t remember. He likes to play video games and tries new activities every weekend. Last week he had attempted fishing with a friend of his and they ended up catching no fish but a cold so bad, Jungkook requested for an extension on his vocal exam. Oh, and he hates reading.

I told him about the time I submitted the wrong thesis paper for my semester end assignment and had to retake the whole module all over again in the next semester. He asked my favourite colour, movie and book. He judged me for being a book worm and laughed when I pouted at him in annoyance.

Our food arrived soon and we didn’t talk as we devoured the delicious, thin, saucy pizza. I caught him watching me from the corner of my eye but I made no attempt to eat decently. It’s not like I want to impress him or anything anyways.

Three girls seated at the table next to us wooow’ed at the sight of Jungkook. They turned their attention to me and stared on with disgust.

“What’s someone like him doing with someone like her?”

“God knows! See this is why we never get to experience anything good. Because the good guys are always after someone so random”

“It must be true love if he actually chose someone like her. I mean, look at her hair!”

I could even hear their eye rolls as loud as I heard their words. It pricked and I found myself slowing my eating. I suddenly couldn’t chew anymore. I felt restrained. Like someone had put handcuffs and a leash on me and I had to strain against them to take a bite of my pizza.

Growing up, I haven’t had the most stable family. My fatherless life had involved trying to work odd jobs since I was 13 and missing out mile stones other girls got to experience during their teen years. My first kiss wasn’t under a starry night with my first love, it was rushed and filled with greed at the car park of the local book store. And he cheated on me a week later with the girl who sat next to me at chemistry. The man I first shared a bed with was not looking for a long-term relationship and left me when he found a full time, high wage job at his uncle’s company in New York. My mother was crippling, losing a bit of herself every passing day until one day she came down the stairs to have her tea and I couldn’t even recognize her anymore. My sisters were still too young to understand life and I didn’t want them to see the world as I saw it. I wanted them to have a happy childhood and experience life as any growing child should. They were sent away to my uncle’s and although they were more than willing to also let me stay, I needed away. I left my mother as she screamed indecent words at me one night and took the subway train that led me here. The letter of acceptance from the university was the only good thing that has ever happened to me. I soon became best friends with my room mate who is the polar opposite of me but somehow, we spoke to the same stars and saw life in the same light. My life has always been rushed, difficult to comprehend and there was no easy way through. Having to hear the body that pulled me through those sleepless nights of putting my scared sisters to sleep and locking their doors so my alcoholic mother couldn’t hurt them with her drunk violence, the same body that has cried itself to sleep after carrying stack after stack of recycle paper up 7 flight of stairs for very little pay and a terrible neck and back ache, the same body that is still living and breathing and pushing through, is not good enough, is less, is devastating. It makes me want to cry.

I didn’t ask for such a difficult life. Additionally, my face is the only remainder of who my mom used to be; I am the spitting image of her. The her that was over flowing with positivity and had a heart of gold. The her that lovingly brought my sisters and I into this world and took us cycling and cooked our favourite pasta for our birthdays. To think this face, this remainder of what she looked like, who she was, is less makes my heart crinkle around the edges and burn in the deepest pits of its centre.

“All good?”

I look up to see Jungkook looking at me worriedly.

“Oh yes! I just.... should stop eating else I’ll throw up" I laughed awkwardly.

Jungkook continued to munch on his pizza as he stared at me. He was trying to read the worry in my eyes, the sad drop of the corners of my lips. I couldn’t hide my emotions on my face even if the world depended on it, so I wouldn’t be surprised if any minute now Jungkook presses me for answers and stories. Stories I’d rather keep hidden like I have all this time.

“Okay" Jungkook hums as he takes another slice of pizza. I look at him, grateful he dropped the subject. I watched on as he ate. He didn’t once lift his eyes to mine. He busied himself finishing up his own pizza and the remainder of mine. I wasn’t shocked he ate so much given the fact that he was full of muscle and stamina.

I looked out the window at the busy street. People walked by, carrying the weight of their lives on their shoulders. The lights from cars and street lights looked like stars on Earth from where I was seated. I felt a sudden sense of closure knowing I could disappear into the night, walk mindlessly around these people and no one would know who I am. I’d have no one to explain or compare myself to. Nobody would know what’s going on inside my head. Frankly, nobody would care enough to know. And it felt nice. To not be alive and surviving. I wanted to be light, float over the Earth and find my purpose at my own pace without trying to catch up with the rest of the world only to fall short of breath and lost.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but I’ll listen if you share” Jungkook wipes the corner of his mouth with a tissue. He has cleaned the trays of pizza without leaving behind even a trace of any food being there. I smiled kindly at his words.

“Thank you Jungkook. But I’m not thinking about anything that needs concerning attention”

My smile doesn’t reach my eyes and I know he noticed it. He pays the bill entirely despite me fussing about wanting to split the bill. We make our way back to my house, the breeze a little colder and stronger than yesterday, reminding us of the oncoming winter.

I pace the living room painfully slow, waiting.

Waiting for her to come back home.

Daffodil.

I have been practising what I wanted to say as I give her the present over and over again in my head. I had wrapped it neatly in a brown paper bag and tied with an orange ribbon I found on her study table. The wrapping was not at all attractive, but it was neat and I hoped she would see the value of the gift that’s wrapped rather than the wrapping itself.

I look at the time. 09.19pm.

She was supposed to be back a long time ago. I heard her making arrangements yesterday to leave early from work today. I had cleaned the entire house; sweeping the wooden floor boards, removing cobwebs and brushing off the dust that had collected on top of the cupboards and TV.

I did not have a phone on me and even if I did, its not like I had her number anyway. I sighed loudly and slumped on the cold floor. My eyes kept fluttering, threatening to close for hours. My shoulders felt heavy and I couldn’t pull myself up off the floor. I rested my head on the floor and allowed my eyes to close. The coldness from the floor piercing my right cheek was the last thing I was aware of before I drifted off to a sleep full of nightmares.

I saw it again.

The playground.

The swing.

The boy.

I was playing in the park around the corner from school. I had sand in my old, torn shoes and my school tie was hanging loosely around my neck. My hair was a mess and sweat dripped off the ends of my bangs. I was having too much fun running around to stop. I sat at one of the swings and turned to face the boy seated in the other.

“Hey!” I waved brightly.

He did not respond, his head bent low and slowly swinging. He had dark brown hair and a piercing in his left ear. I could not see his face because it was surprisingly too dark on the side of the swing he was on. It was almost as if a dark cloud was looming over him, night fallen on the side of the Earth he was on.

I turned away and focused on swinging as high up as I can. However, my merry only lasted for a short while because I had swung a little too high and as I swung back, I was thrown off the seat and face first onto the dirty sand. I got up spitting sand out of my mouth. Any average person would have shrieked in disgust and run straight home for a good shower at what just happened. But I just laughed, almost choking on my spit as I attempted to spit sand out of my mouth.

“Pathetic”

The boy suddenly spoke. His voice was soft, melodic and had a boyish charm to it.

He’d make a great singer if he could sing, I thought to myself.

I turned to look at him, mirth sparkling in my eyes.

“Ha! So you can speak! I thought-” I began but had to stop at the sight before me.

My eyes grew wide in terror as the boy lifted his head to reveal a face with no features except for a gaping hole where his mouth should be. A dark liquid oozed out of his ears, supposed-mouth and where his eyes should’ve been.

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to scream again and again, but no sounds came out.

Tag list: @tae-n-u

#bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fan fic #bts fan fiction #kim taehyung #kim taheyung x reader #BTS v #bts v x reader #bts taehyung #bts tae x reader #park jimin #BTS jimin #BTS jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #taehyung x y/n #tae x y/n #bts v x y/n #Angels

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solecize · 4 years

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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the boy you meet in detention, felix, doesn’t see colours. you want to gift his eyes with the kaleidoscopes and the rainbows of your world. the palette of your love story is supposed to bring together a work of art, but calamity lies beneath the canvas. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. felix x reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. swearing 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.1k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. i wrote half of this while i was high sorry

YELLOW. / PART III - “THE LIST OF GOOD THINGS”

this is what you were afraid of. felix came and went as he pleased and after the day at the beach, he was gone for weeks. you had no way to contact him and when you worked up the nerve to ask around, nobody had a clue. it was a little embarrassing, the way you scoured social media for any trace of him and you weren’t even the slightest bit surprised when you discovered that he was off the grid.

there wasn't any chance of you being able to shake him off—the thought of felix was tattooed on your skin, entangled in your hair like bubblegum, left a stain that couldn't be washed away. his lazy grin haunted you and the faint sensation of his lips forever planted on yours. you thought you were going mad.

you'd had crushes before, even a failed relationship or two, and the way he made you feel was incomparable to all.

“was that okay?” you fumbled with your words, tripping and leaping over hurdles to get your voice out.

you weren’t sure how long the two of you sat in that cave. you especially weren’t sure how long you two spent completely taking in the other by the lips, dizzying your vision and swelling your lips. it was felix who pulled away first, panting for air. his hair was tousled and a wash of strawberry pink flushed his face.

felix just laughed and cupped your cheek. “yes. it was more than okay.” his eyes bore into yours and an army began marching through your chest.

the two of you remained in that spot until the night fell and the stars illuminated your surroundings. someone—you weren’t sure which one of you—finally knocked some sense into them and realized it was time to go. neither of you wanted to leave and making your way back was like dragging you feet.

“where do you live? i’ll give you a ride home.” this time, you were the one that hopped into the driver’s seat. you took a glance at your phone abandoned on the dashboard, vibrating wildly.

twenty missed calls from your mom. four from your dad. about fifty texts altogether. you rolled your eyes and turned the device off.

felix raised his eyebrows, startled for a moment. “oh! no, that’s okay—”

“don’t be dumb, i made you come here and you’re not taking the bus,” you snorted.

“. . .fine. you can drop me off back at school,” he ran a hand through his hair, shoulders tense. “i left my car there.”

“your car? i thought you said it’d “been a while” since you last drove,” you said, but turned on the car anyway. the engine roared to life and the two of you were met with the local pop radio station. you scrunched your nose and turned it off, just as felix reached for the button at the same time with the same expression. the two of you shared a laugh.

you connected your phone again and played a more mellow playlist, one for the late atmosphere. adore you by harry styles filled your ears and you felt your hands relax on the wheel.

felix chuckled. “come on. i just didn’t wanna get in the minivan with you.” his nose crinkled when you playfully slapped his arm.

“i don’t blame you,” but you sure were glad that he ended up doing so.

the rest of the car ride was filled with comfortable silence. at some point, felix shyly put his hand over yours and you didn’t notice. it felt so natural and your fingers automatically tangled up in his. the rest of the harry styles album found its fingerprints all over the inside of the car and the remainder of the night.

eventually, the two of you pulled up to the high school and you felt a weight of dread trailing down your spine. you looked over at felix and a frown etched his face as well.

“i guess this is it?” the thought of collecting his number didn’t even occur to mind.

felix’s hand didn’t move. “i guess so.”

worst of all, there was nothing to distract your mind with. the glare of the summer sun and the clean slate of all of your days brought you with a frustrating routine of sitting in your room in front of your electric fan all day. you weren’t even quite talking to your parents beyond a few words at dinner and the occasional moment when one of them would stick their head through your door to ensure that you were alive and breathing. clearly, they were still upset about the whole steal-the-minivan situation.

you felt pathetic, holed up indoors. you wanted to find motivation to go out and actually be with people, but it wasn’t like you had many options. eventually you got tired of wasting your summer away and decided to go for a bike ride. outside. of your room. admittedly, it was the craziest thing that happened since school went out.

you slipped on a pair of beat up white air force ones at the bottom of your stairs, tiptoeing quietly down and stopped when you realized that the house was empty. taking a glance at yourself in the mirror, you looked like you hadn’t seen the sun in years—really, it was for a few weeks. you wore a pair of oversized basketball shorts and a tank cropped just above your belly button, showing off a piercing that represented another badge of rebellion against your parents. a sound that could’ve sound like a groan of frustration rumbled from your throat, though it was too distorted to be compared to anything human.

after a moment’s deliberation, you decided to at the very least put your hair up in a ponytail, roughly forcing the scrunchie through your tangled hair. you appeared a touch more presentable then. then again, you didn’t care all that much if you ran into anybody you knew—it wasn’t like you were going to run into them in september after you moved away for university.

carefully, you locked the front door and brought your bicycle out from the back. you didn’t have an idea of where you wanted to go, but you knew that being inside the house brought a heavy weight to your body that you couldn’t quite get rid of. even just the slightest stream of sunlight spilling through the door and the kiss of the summer heat lifted your mood.

following the wind, you found yourself in front of your now former high school. maybe it was the familiarity of the route that creeped up at the back of your mind and unconsciously brought you here. it looked exactly the same, even in its barren state.

you were coming to a stop when you heard someone call your name. an all too familiar deep rumble of a voice. thinking you were imagining it, you ignored it. then, it came again and you whipped your head around.

“hey.”

it was felix that walked past you, hands deep in the pockets of his grey sweatpants that you knew must have been killing him in the crazy heat, along with the light zip-up on top. he wore the same jordans from the day in detention and a plain white t-shirt. simple, but it fit him so well. and that goddamn smile. it always reached his eyes, it seemed, no matter what.

“hi,” you managed to breathe out, suddenly thanking yourself for hauling your ass out of bed. what were the chances that you’d bump into the boy that had been plaguing your mind for week? “. . .long time no see.”

the words felt dumb and numb, rolling off your tongue, but you were too taken aback to process that he was actually in front of you. it had come to the point where you wondered if the day at the beach was a fever dream, created in the haze of your lonely desires at the back of your mind.

however, he was very real before your very eyes. he creeped up upon you like a summer breeze; unexpected, but exactly what your spirit ached for in a seemingly endless drought. it seemed as though felix was just as happy to see you, though a twinkle of relief slumped in his shoulders and relaxed all of the muscles in his body. with you, he always did that.

felix bit his lip. “it’s nice to see you. how’s your summer been so far?” you tried to read his facial expression, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were feeling about him, but was left to a complete wall of neutrality. he was good.

“boring. not much to do when you don’t have friends and it’s too hot to do anything outside.” that was the truth, but it sounded more pathetic out loud than you were willing to admit. however, felix simply nodded in understanding.

“well, you’re out now, aren’t you?” felix looked off into the distance, squinting at the relentless sun.

you could’ve sworn you heard him mutter the word “finally” but you weren’t sure.

“i was going stir crazy,” you admitted with a gentle laugh. you subconsciously tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear and stopped mid-way through when you realized what you were doing. oh, you were a freaking goner.

he teased, “so you decided to come visit the old prison yard?” he gestured to the school building and you tilted your head to the side, taking a moment to observe it. the lot did resemble a jailhouse to an uncanny extent.

however, with void of students, the lot seemed peaceful. abandoned and colossal. it was as if there was actual oxygen to breathe in, instead of feeling restrained as you had been the past four years. you wanted to attribute it to that, but there was an itching feeling that it was because of felix’s presence that gave you the ability to capture freedom.

“i was riding my bike and i guess getting here is just muscle memory,” you shrugged it off. “what’s your excuse?”

nobody hung out at the high school during the summer unless they were getting high in the parking lot or using the outdoor field to play soccer. you had a feeling that felix wasn’t there for either. he also came alone, or so it seemed, considering you hadn’t even realized his presence.

“well. . . .” a playful smile emerged on felix’s lips. “okay, fine. since you showed me your hidden spot, i’ll show you mine.”

it was as though the earth had thundered and a mirror sprung up from the ground below, forcing you to see your reflection in him. you knew there was a reason why you were so drawn to felix from the very first moment. in a way, he was just like you.

without waiting for you to verbally answer, felix extended his hand, just as you had done for him on graduation day. and, in the same vein as his own actions, you laced your fingers with his without any hesitation. you had to stop yourself from sighing out loud—the feeling of his hand joined with yours was a relief that you would cross the ocean for.

however, today, his skin was rough. they were calloused and dry, ones that were hard at work and had been drained of hydration in a deep desert. they met your soft palm and the contrast was electric. the two of you became one in just the smallest of forces, though, it was as powerful as a hurricane. you imagined that kissing him once again would feel like as though the heavens were to rain down upon us all—quenching thirst after a drought.

“i swear, if you take me behind the bleachers . . “ you teased. everyone knew that place as the local makeout spot, where there always seemed to be a douchey senior guy declaring it as his and the innocent girl next door’s secret hideout. of course, felix was the last person on earth who would take any person there.

his ears still tinted a cherry red, even in spite of the fact that you were joking. you laughed a bit and with your free hand, you abandoned your bike on the side of the driveway into the high school. somehow, it didn’t occur to you to bring a lock or even place it anywhere safer than there. your mind was too wrapped around felix’s pinky finger and his eyes were glued onto yours.

“no! no—of course not,” he replied without waiting a beat, eyes wide.

you just laughed and shook your head, as felix caught onto the joke. he chuckled nervously in response and your heart wanted to burst. it was adorable.

felix tugged gently to prompt you to begin moving and you did so. the summer sun climbed onto your bag and wrapped its arms around your neck, straining your ability to walk in smooth motions. however, you were able to see that the two of you were going towards the forest nestled behind the football field.

“what have you been to this summer?” you asked, squinting at the sun startling your eyes upon looking up at felix.

he just shrugged. “there’s nothing to do around here. i just end up coming back here all the time,” he said, referring to the place that he was leading you to.

that was the truth, the city got boring fast. not to mention, everybody you grew up with turned into completely different people and the ones who didn’t change already drifted too far away. it was like being stuck and staying inside wasn’t even as bad because coming out to face the real world meant facing the reality of the cards that you were dealt with.

it was the reality of growing up. you despised it and it must’ve shown on your face because felix glanced over at you and frowned. at that, you relaxed your shoulders that had stiffened without your command.

“sorry. it’s just—” you began, already hearing felix’s inquiry form at the tip of his tongue. “—this isn’t really the summer i dreamed of. i wanted bonfires and friendship bracelets and sleepovers. not sitting around in my room all day because i don’t have any friends anymore.”

“you have me,” felix immediately said and you weren’t sure if your heart should’ve skipped a beat or sunk because you just potentially got friend zoned. however, the squeeze of his hand and the way his lids grew a touch heavier looking at your face, at your lips, relaxed the thought.

he then let go of your hand for a second and began to tug at the strings of his zip up sweater, slowly and more forcefully when he realized just how hard it was. you simply stared at him, blinking, because you were confused at what he was doing. felix finally managed to get the string out and then proceeded to wrap the arms of the sweater around his waist, submitting to the heat.

“hold out your wrist.”

you silently did so, still confused. felix pulled you slightly closer, just enough that you were almost chest to chest and your arm still stuck out. he smiled. then, he took the red string from his zip up hoodie and began to tie it around your wrist. you couldn’t help but notice that it was the same shade of red as his red paper footballs from the first day in detention.

tilting to your head to the side, you managed to ask, “uh, what are you doing?”

he was having a hard time knotting it and looping the excessively long string properly. “what do you think i’m doing?” felix wore a mischievous grin on his face.

“ruining your hoodie?” you blunted.

felix chuckled. “no, dummy, this is our friendship bracelet.”

no one had ever done something like that for you before. you were always the one going out of your way to do nice things for your friends and play the good guy, only to be fucked over in the end. with felix, he gave you the power of feeling appreciated and wanted. it weighed heavier than a box under an evergreen tree or a birthday surprise with confetti.

you jumped onto him and he let out a yelp of surprise. maybe you crushed his bones at some point, but you couldn’t stop repeating words of gratitude over and over again. you felt felix’s shoulders relax and his chest rumble with another laugh, as he snaked his arms around your torso and squeezed you just as hard back.

“i know it’s kind of just a string, but you also kind of just made my summer,” you whispered in his ear and felt him stroke your hair in response. “sorry, i just had to tell you that. do you. . .do you wanna go now?”

“if you still want to,” felix’s face was slightly flushed when you pulled away from the hug.

he captured your hand in yours once again and reeled you in, pulling you straight out of the salt water and into his world of butterscotch skies.

you didn’t even know that place like this existed in your hometown. it was a moderate journey to say the least, at least a twenty minute walk from where the two of you started at your now former high school. felix began by leading you through the forest, taking paths that you didn’t even notice during your few visits there.

throughout the past four years, you seldom found yourself strolling through the murky trails of his forest, mostly to avoid the kids who would cut class to smoke weed here. the place was notorious for the activity, with its extensive paths crawling into one big maze and lengthy branches perfect for hiding behind. it was never anything but ugly and shady to you.

however, felix was like midas. everything he touched turned into gold. everywhere you went with him turned into a wonderland.

“these trees are way grown out now,” he murmured, pushing an small log out of the path with his foot. “i like it here, though.”

“it’s peaceful,” you replied, eyes drinking it all in. it wasn’t quite like the trees leading up to the beach hill, but the gloom hanging off of pea coloured moss and damp dirt brought strange comfort.

that wasn’t the end of it, though. the two of you continued to make your way through the forest and on your end, with no destination in your mind. you even forgot about the heat. weaving through the way, bits of light began to make their presence known, shining from the far distance. you looked over at felix and a small grin began to form on his face.

all you saw next was yellow.

at first, you were blinded by the sudden flash of sun. then, you slowly, but surely, fluttered your eyelids open and were confused when you were met with the same yellow. tucked away in the middle of the forest was a surprisingly large field of sunflowers. they varied in length and sparseness, but the one constant was their bright hue. the field shone brighter than the sun itself. the aroma of the field attacked your lungs and you relented, letting the scent of the flora run through your body.

“you always come exactly when i need you. . .” you mumbled under your breath, perplexed. you looked up at felix, who let his fingers run through the first patch of flowers, never picking, but appreciating the soft petals.

felix’s ears perked up. “huh? did you say something?”

“nothing,” you shook your head and bit back your smile. felix as a good luck charm would have to stay a secret. it was all a quiet coincidence, but you were more than grateful that he seemed to perfectly show up every time. “this place. . . .is this even real?” you giggled, mimicking his movements and brushing your fingers against the flowers.

“i come here almost everyday. it’s breathtaking.”

there was a crinkling noise and you hadn’t even noticed that felix let go of your hand to open a lollipop. he popped it out and it was, of course, a bright lemon colour. it perfectly matched the field. you raised an eyebrow at him,

“yellow,” he began, with the stick poking out of his right cheek, “is the easiest colour to remember. it’s the colour of happiness and home and summer and flowers and. . . and goddamn lemonade!” felix declared, spreading his arms open as if to hug the skies.

you knew exactly what felix meant. everything that embodied the colour yellow was right there, in that moment, there was no better colour to remember.

you blinked and after a breath, you grinned and yelled out to up above, “like goddamn lemonade!”

“LEMONADEEE!”

the two of you began making yelling and whooping to absolutely no body other than yourselves. after a few moments of jumping around, he captured you into a gentle hug. you only squeezed your arms harder.

he paused. “you know you’re one of my first friends in a long time?” felix asked. “and graduation just happened. great.” his tone was sarcastic, but the truth hurt you just as hard.

you thought about the alleged “friends” you used to run with, the petty girls who always found themselves in drama. the ones that you completely changed yourself for. the ones who no longer had a place in your life.

you thought about felix. he felt like home. you met him too late.

“you’re one of mine, too.” you wondered if being a friend was all that felix thought of you. you thought back to the day you kissed him and he responded positively. you thought about the friendship bracelet now laced and bound to your body. maybe, that’s what you needed him more as. “what happened to your old friends?” you were attempting to change the topic.

was that a mistake? felix cleared his throat. “well, there used to be nine of all of us back then . . .” he trailed off and instead made a spot for himself on the ground. he sat crosslegged and began playing with the nearest flower.

there was a story to everything. experiencing it is the worst, but explaining the breakdown to someone else was just as bad sometimes. you saw the way felix struggled to piece it together, so you merely shook your head and sat beside him. it could wait another day.

“i can’t believe i never knew about this place,” you said.

felix replied, “it’s probably for the better. it wouldn’t be this pretty if a bunch of random high school kids found it.” he cocked his head towards the forest, the lollipop still dangling from his mouth.

in one fluid motion, you swiped it and stuck it into your own mouth with a grin.

“hey!” felix exclaimed, completely taken aback. he began laughing, though, and a playful look shone in his eye.

before you knew it, you were underneath him. of course, not in that way, but the idiot managed to tackle you to the ground in the same way he had done at the beach. you gasped for laughter as he did so, holding you down with tickles.

you somehow slid from the position below him and held your hands up in defeat. “i’m sorry!” you giggled.

felix couldn’t help it. you looked ethereal against clusters of flowers and the best colour in the world. he couldn’t see it, but he felt it. the list of good things associated with it was now changed: happiness, home, summer, lemonade, and now, you.

he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“i thought we were friends?” you countered, smugly. you really didn’t care what you were, all that you knew was that you were drunk on felix’s presence. it wasn’t love or lust, but a comfort that you were addicted to.

“we can be whatever you want.” felix picked a sunflower, one of a smaller size, and held it out to you.

#kwritersworldnet #lee felix imagine #lee felix scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #lee felix x reader #stray kids au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #— COLOUR THEORY.

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lupinlongbottom · 4 years

Text

Burning Bridges pt. 3

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Summary: Finally settling into her new role, (Y/N) has found her calling. Teaching is easier, now that she has a friend at her side. As taxing and stressful teaching can be, maybe some tea and a good chat can calm her mind.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Some swearing, slight bit talk about sex if you squint

A/N: AH! I love these two. They’re burning. Slowly, in my brain. Enjoy the pain!

Part 1 ... Part 2 ... Part 4 ... Part 5 ... Part 6 ... Part 7

It had been two months. Two months of teaching at the most prestigious wizarding school in the world. Many would argue that Ilvermorny could rival it, but many of those wizards were blind Americans, unknowing to the true superiority of the other school. Either case, to say that (Y/N) was swamped and stressed beyond her wildest dreams was an understatement.

“Can anyone tell me how many uses dragon blood has?” (Y/N) asked to her audience, doe-eyed first years. A hand shot up. “Mr. Butler.”

“Twelve,” the scrawny Slytherin retorted, looking pleased with himself.

“That’s right,” she smiled, crossing over to the blackboard. “Now, Mr. Butler, could you tell me each and every one of the magical properties it possesses? Giving it the twelve uses?”

The Slytherin sat silently, mouth slightly agape. “My mum only told me she used it to clean our oven…” he trailed, almost unsure of himself.

“Exactly! That’s one use, good job Mr. Butler,” (Y/N) scribbled in tight words ‘oven cleaner’ onto the black board. “Could anyone else help him out?” Another hand shot up, one of a Ravenclaw girl. “Yes, Ms. Hoyt?”

“I’m sorry, Professor (L/N), but are you expecting us to know all of the uses?”

(Y/N) smiled widely. “No,” Loud murmurs erupted from the classroom, confused at their professor’s response. “I don’t expect any of you to know more than one or two uses. You’re first years, barely begun reading your textbooks or learned anything about potions, so,” (Y/N) spun the blackboard around. “You should know I hate assigning papers, but I want you all to write me an essay on the twelve uses,” she pressed her wand to each bullet point. “Who discovered them, when we’re to use it and how to use it correctly,” more groans. “Be thankful you’re not in my seventh year N.E.W.Ts class right now, they’d take this assignment over the behemoth I gave them earlier today.”

“By next class?” a Hufflepuff girl inquired.

“No, two classes time,” (Y/N) said, smiling lightly. “I want you to take your time. I can imagine you have bigger fish to fry in your other classes, no?” the room grew silent. “Or perhaps not. Either case, take your time. Really comprehend the assignment, it’ll be in your best interest to do so,” the bell chimed. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Murmurs of ‘thank you Professor (L/N)’ fluttered around the room, filling (Y/N)’s heart with pride. She began to clear her workspace, preparing for her third year class she had next. A Slytherin boy had stayed behind. “You’re going to be late to your next class, Mr. Butler,” she said, not turning around.

“It’s just Herbology,” he shrugged. “Professor Longbottom won’t mind.”

“I highly doubt that,” (Y/N) turned around, crossing her arms. “That man cares more about his plants than you could ever comprehend.”

“Tell me about it! I can’t stand it,” he huffed, slowly packing his knapsack up. “I wish I could just take potions all day, not have to worry about plants biting me.”

“Herbology is an important class to learn,” (Y/N) said, continuing to write on the blackboard, with her wand of course. She wasn’t a buffoon. “Many skills and information you learn in that class is pertinent to potion-making. What better way to learn about your ingredients than caring for the plant itself?”

“Did you like Herbology when you were a student, professor?”

“I enjoyed my professor,” said (Y/N) truthfully, thinking of Sprout. “I don’t have the patience, or green thumb, for it,” she laughed, recalling her various dead plants over the years. “Regardless, it’s important for you to learn.”

“That’s the same sap Professor Longbottom told me,” the Slytherin groaned. “Told me that it could be beneficial to potions class and whatnot. He says stuff like that all the time, connects it to potions. He said you’d agree.”

“He’s right,” (Y/N) clicked. Of course he said that. “I do,” she began scribbling on a small square of parchment. “Give this to Professor Longbottom, seeing as you’re going to be late, he might appreciate to know why.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, grabbing the note, finally exiting the classroom.

(Y/N) allowed herself to sigh loudly. “Never a rest for the wicked, huh?” she mumbled to herself, finally finishing her preparations for her next class. Her mind trailed, recalling her student’s words. “He can’t possibly talk me up that much, can he?” She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the third years finally filed in, settling in their seats. “Right, welcome class. As you’re sitting down, please open your textbooks to chapter seventeen…”

“(Y/N)!” Neville shouted down the corridor, hoping to catch her attention. She turned around. “There you are,” he smiled, catching up to her. “Been looking all over for you.”

“Could’ve checked the dungeons,” (Y/N) jested. “I never seem to leave my lair.”

“Tell me about it,” Neville groaned, stretching his arms. “Been barely out of the greenhouses. I reckon I have dirt in places a person shouldn’t ever have dirt.”

“You should bathe more, then,” (Y/N) laughed, noticing the streak of dirt that danced across the bridge of his nose. “Or at least wash your face,” she signaled to the mess on his face, a finger tracing the space on her own.

Neville felt the heat rise to his cheeks, quickly rubbing his nose with the end of his sweater. “Thanks,” he mumbled, hopefully removing all of the mess. They arrived at their chambers, their own doors respectively. “Hey,” he hesitated. “Did you want to some tea? Gran sent me some herbal tea from her last trip,” he wrung his wrist slightly. “I know you like herbal.”

“I do,” (Y/N) answered honestly. “Like herbal, I mean. It’s my favorite. What kind?”

“Not sure, I think it has roses?”

“Bring it over,” (Y/N) nodded to her door, opening it. “I have some extra biscuits from my mum. Would make a good pairing, I think.”

“Oh, you want me to come over? I was just offering—”

“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) felt the heat rush to her ears, burning against her ears. “I didn’t realize that you were—”

“No, it’s fine! I can come over!” Neville practically shouted. “I mean,” he coughed, trying to cover his exclaims. “If you want me to come over.”

“Of course I do,” (Y/N) smiled. “We’re friends, right?”

Neville felt a grin pull to his ears. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

(Y/N) entered her chambers, immediately realizing what a mess she had left her living space. Scrolls and books littered the table, ink pots were left open with abandoned quills, a cauldron was burbling in the corner. “I suppose it’s not as bad as it could be,” she hummed, moving to start a kettle. Edgar was preening himself on the kitchen perch, allowing his excess feathers to fall to the ground. “Honestly Eddie, preen in the Owlery,” (Y/N) sighed, bending over to pick up the feathers.

“…turns out it’s a rose and saffron blend,” Neville laughed, entering her chambers. “Gran got really fancy,” another laugh. “(Y/N)?” (Y/N) yelped, hitting her head on the countertops, rising far too quickly. “Are you okay!?” Neville rushed over to the small kitchenette, noting the witch withering on the floor, hand held to her forehead.

“Been better,” She groaned, answering honestly. “Doesn’t hurt more than a knock-back jinx,” she laughed, recalling the various times the spell was used against her.

“Is that…?” Neville glanced at the barn owl, offering his hand to assist (Y/N).

“Edgar?” (Y/N) took his hand, pulling herself up. “Yeah. He’s grown a bit more distinguished since the last time you saw him I bet, but he’s still the little clumsy Eddie you remember.”

“He was hardly clumsy,” Neville crooned, reaching a hand out hesitantly to Edgar’s face. The owl leaned to the touch. “No more than me.”

(Y/N) laughed, taking the fistful of feathers and set them in a box, closing it gently. “I keep his feathers when I can,” (Y/N) mumbled, feeling Neville’s gaze on her actions. “They make fine quills, sometimes need them for potions… or maybe I’m just a sentimental mother,” she laughed. “Probably the latter.”

“It’s sweet,” Neville beamed. “You’ve always been the sentimental type.”

“It’s true,” (Y/N) replied honestly. “I’m as close to a hoarder as they come. It takes every ounce of restraint to not keep all the letters my mum sends me. I keep a few, only to laugh,” (Y/N) removed the screaming kettle from the stove. “She’s dating a muggle, you know.”

“Your pure-blooded mother? Dating a muggle?” Neville’s eyes felt as if they were as large as saucers.

“Shocked me too,” (Y/N) shrugged, pouring the hot water into light pink cups. Neville handed her the tin, allowing her to infuse the leaves properly. “She said it was a good change of pace,” (Y/N) allowed the cups to sit, the wine-red color seeping into the hot water. “He makes her happy, so who am I to judge?”

“Would you ever date a muggle?” Neville asked, absentmindedly. “You know, being pure-blood and all…”

“I would,” (Y/N) hummed, thinking about it lightly, leaning on her counter. “I don’t care much about blood status, unlike…” she shook her head. “That stuff doesn’t matter to me. I guess I would appreciate it if he was a wizard. At least it’d be easier to explain my profession,” she shrugged, glancing at her bubbling cauldron. Felix Felicis. Been working on it since moving into the castle. “What about you? You’re a pure-blood too.”

“Never thought about it,” Neville admitted. “Don’t really think much about that stuff. Never have, really.”

“Come off it,” (Y/N) poked Neville in his side. “You’re telling me you’ve never thought about dating a muggle?”

“Honest!” he laughed, moving away from her touch. “Ever since Luna and I broke it off, I put all my energy into the plants."

(Y/N) felt her face fall, just for a moment. The tea was done steeping. She handed Neville a cup, walking over to her deep purple couch. “You and Luna?”

“Yeah,” Neville rubbed his neck, sitting on the adjacent chair. “We didn’t last much past the one year mark.”

“You two seemed great together,” she lied, allowing herself to take a sip. The warmth flooded her senses, the taste lingering on her tongue. “You guys were inseparable seventh year,” another sip.

“I wouldn’t say inseparable,” he remarked. “Just had a crush. War does crazy things to people’s perspectives. Really thought we’d work out.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Neville assured, taking a sip of the tea. He scowled a bit, never really liking rose tea. “It was mutual. We were both young and confused. Didn’t really know what we wanted…” He sighed. “Sorry, I try not to think about it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” (Y/N) replied, waving her wand, a tin of biscuits landing on the table. “I know we agreed to catch up on our lives, but if it’s a sore subject, we don’t have to...”

“A lot can happen in five years,” he shrugged. “Good and bad I reckon.”

“I dated Seamus,” (Y/N) smiled into her cup, changing the subject. “Only for a month or two. Still can’t decide if it was good or bad.”

“Get out!” he exclaimed, hopping onto his hands, rising high in the chair. “You and Finnigan?”

“That could hardly be a surprise,” (Y/N) scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Considering we snogged a fair bit in the Room of Requirement seventh year.”

“I guess,” he admitted, recalling catching the two practically sucking their faces off the other. “How was it? Dating Finnigan?”

“Slobbery,” she recalled. “We barely ever just sat down to talk. We usually just…” her face grew three shades darker. “Well, didn’t talk,” she coughed, noticing the redness in Neville’s face as well. “Like you said, we didn’t know what we wanted. Or needed, I guess.”

“Was he good? In bed?” Neville boldly asked, somewhat unashamed.

“Look at Longbottom, asking the naughty questions,” (Y/N) smirked, teasing the dark haired man further. “I don’t have anything else to compare it to. It was fine,” another shrug. “I mean, I guess it wasn’t sometimes. Would have to polish myself off rather often after if you catch my drift.”

“I do,” Neville sputtered. “Well, not like that. I’ve never had a problem with… that,” he set his cup down. “On my end though, I guess I never asked Luna if she… oh no. What if she—”

“Neville, you’re going to hurt yourself, just breathe,” she laughed. “I’m sure you were more than satisfactory in bed,” Neville took a deep breath. “Look at us, chatting about our sexual escapades like real adults.”

“Who would’ve thought?” Neville chuckled.

“Not me, that’s for sure,” (Y/N) smiled, enjoying the gentle company. “I’m glad we’re friends again.”

“Me too,” he smiled back, closing his eyes for a moment. “A bit different than before.”

“No kidding,” she took a bite of the tan biscuit. Sweet. “Instead of essays and exams to prepare for, we’re the ones writing the exams and stressing about lesson plans.”

“A bit over our heads, I reckon,” he laughed. “From what I can tell, the students like you.”

“Yeah?”

“Hear a lot from the first year class, especially Noah Butler. I think he has a crush on you.”

“Stop it,” (Y/N) said, rolling her eyes. “He’s just really into potions. I was that student at one point, you know.”

“Yeah,” Neville clicked. “But you never said Snape ever had ‘beautifully wonderful hair’ or ‘nice eyes’, did you?“

“Merlin’s beard. My student fancies me! He’s eleven!” (Y/N) roared, amused at the thought. “If anyone were to fancy me, he wouldn’t be at the top of the list.”

“Who would be? Professor Knight?” Neville slanted his eyes, cocking an eyebrow. (Y/N) was silent. “So it’s true. You two’ve been spending loads of time together, no?”

“Lance and I are just friends—”

“But you want to be more than that right?”

“It’s not wise to date a co-worker,” (Y/N) said, trying to convince Neville. Maybe herself. “He’s smart enough, sure. But…”

“Ask him out,” Neville said, shoving another biscuit in his mouth. “He’s not going to say no. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Looks at me? Lance?”

“Practically undresses you with his eyes,” he laughed. “You two would be good together. You said so yourself, you’d date a muggle. He’s muggle-born, best of both worlds, right?”

“I suppose…” (Y/N) exhaled, thinking it over. “I just can’t believe Neville Longbottom is giving me dating advice.”

“I can be useful sometimes,” he smirked, finishing his cup of tea. “Say, is your bathroom connected to your room too?”

“Yeah, door next to the bed if you need it,” she pointed a thumb at her bedroom door. “Feel free.”

The Gryffindor excused himself, allowing himself to enter her bedroom. (Y/N) had decorated lightly, ivy dangling from nearly every corner of the room, just like her classroom. Moving photos dotted the walls, some of their friends, some of what Neville guessed was her family. Her room was orderly, less so than the living area in the room prior, work and private life separate it seemed. Her dresser, dark oak, had trinkets from her past littering the surface.

“Sentimental indeed,” Neville chuckled, noting the old Honeydukes box. He had gifted her that on her 15th birthday, it was filled with chocolate fudge. Not terribly magical, but she loved it none the less. His eyes glanced at the pile next to the box. “She kept a jumper from school?” He lifted the jumper. “Always loved wearing…” his eyes noted the stitching under the tag. His stitching. “Jumpers.”

“Find it okay?” (Y/N) called from the other room, slightly worried about her friend.

Neville shook his head, rapidly folding back up the cardigan. “Yeah, of course. I’m not that thick,” he called back. Quickly using the bathroom, he made one last check to make sure nothing seemed out of place.

“Had me worried for a minute,” (Y/N) mused, already on her second cup of tea.

“Got distracted by that photo of you, Harry and Ginny,” he lied. “When’d you take that?”

“At their engagement party. Gin practically begged me to take it,” she hummed. “But I’ve grown rather fond of that one. Ginny just looked so happy.”

“When do you think they’re planning to have the ceremony?”

“Ginny said something along the lines of February or March,” (Y/N) recalled, memories filtering through the various letters they had sent back and forth. “I wouldn’t be surprised to get an invite soon.”

“Me either,” Neville guessed. “Well, it’s getting late, got exams to grade and whatnot…”

“By all means, don’t let me keep you,” (Y/N) forced herself to finish her cup, standing up. “The company was nice while it lasted.”

“Yeah,” Neville retorted, practically scrabbling for the door. “Have a goodnight!” Just like that, he was gone.

“Odd,” said (Y/N), putting her china in the sink. “Guess he was always a bit odd, right Edgar?” The owl cooed, not paying attention.

It took exactly three glasses of firewhisky for Neville to calm down. He hated turning to alcohol, but he felt like there was no other choice.

“Why’d she keep the cardigan?” he mumbled, playing with his fingers. “I knew she never gave it back, but after all this time?” He shook his head, trying to read the answers on the exam in front of him. “It just doesn’t make sense!” Neville slammed a fist onto the table, rattling it. “Trevor, give me some advice.” He turned to his oldest friend, a bumpy toad sitting in a cage across from the table.

The toad croaked, eyes glossed over.

“I dunno,” Neville mumbled. “After today, the way she was talking about Seamus… Professor Knight…”

Trevor croaked again.

“Shut it!” Neville exclaimed, accidentally pouring his inkwell onto the parchment below. “Shit,” he quickly recited a spell, cleaning the ink off the paper. All of the ink, including his student’s answers. “Great.” He seethed, reluctantly giving the student full marks. What else was he to do?

“I thought I was over it,” Neville shook his head again, almost reaching for the bottle of booze sitting far too close to him. “Thought I could ignore it forever. Blimey, Trevor! We’re just becoming mates again and all I can think about is—is—damnit!”

The ruin around the grounds was massive. Boulders that used to be ceilings, bodies that used to be students, all littered around him. Neville’s head was reeling. Voldemort was gone for good. Dead. Never had the Gryffindor’s head pounded the way it was. Was it adrenaline? The fear finally leaving his body?

“Neville!”

He turned around, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of her. A cut was dripping across her forehead, flowing onto her pink cheeks. Her hair was down, her pink ribbon lost in the wreck. “(Y/N),” he mumbled, practically falling over the rubble to meet her halfway. Without thinking, his arms wrapped around the girl, pulling her in tight.

“I’m so glad you’re alive!” (Y/N) sobbed into his blood-stained jumper, hugging him tighter. “I got caught up… my mum’s here. I-I don’t know why, she wouldn’t tell me,” she shook her head. “But I can talk to her later. They’re saying you killed a snake? Helped defeat Voldemort?”

“I guess, yeah,” he responded sheepishly, eyes darting between hers. As he was about to open his mouth to continue, he couldn’t. A somewhat wet pair of lips was stopping him. (Y/N)’s lips. They were soft, supple, in comparison to his cracked and bleeding ones. Without thinking, he ran a hand up to her hair, feeling the locks tangle around his fingers, deepening the kiss.

She pulled away, expecting Neville to say something, anything. He looked down at her, confused, eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“(Y/N),” he pleaded, begging her to not let go.

“No, I don’t know what came over me. You and Luna…”

“What?” his eyebrows drew together harder, almost touching. “(Y/N) I don’t—”

“Forget it,” she released herself from his grip. “I—I have to go find my mum.” (Y/N) ran away, mumbling something else Neville didn’t quite catch. He stood still, body paralyzed to the one spot, hardly noticing the streak of pink that rested by his boot.

He decided that the exams could wait until morning, the third year class not meeting again until the day after next. He needed sleep like he needed to breathe, mull over his thoughts. Falling flat on his face amongst his covers, Neville tried to fall asleep, ignoring the scent of her bleeding from his clothes.

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honeyjaez · 5 years

Text

Maze of Miroh- Chapter 11 “Starting Anew”

Authors Note:

This is my longest Chapter to date. Hopefully you like!

“Get back here terrorist!”

The sound of a gunshot whizzed past Minho’s ears but he didn’t have the luxury to dwell on it too long due the half dozen Agents chasing him. The alarm blared overhead as he ran down the empty hallway and his vision flashed red. Minho could feel his lungs burn with the need for air as he ran but he didn’t dare slow down due to the threat behind him.

“Scum!” another voice bellowed. Another Gun shot. “Did you think it would be easy to steal from us!?”

Minho silently cursed at himself for messing up such an easy task. The mission was at risk of failing and he scowled, already hearing the intense tongue lashing he would be getting from a one Han Jisung.

His grip on the foreign object in his hand tightened and he began running faster down the hallway.

It had been 3 weeks since Minho joined SKZ, and needless to say his first mission wasn’t going exactly according to plan.

______

Minho’s back landed on the floor with a dull thud for what felt like the hundredth time that daym each hit hurting more and more. His head throbbed, and his body felt like a rag that had gone through the wash one too many times but the senseless beating on his body had to continue for god knows what reason..

“Get up” a voice commanded above him.

Minho stayed on the ground, groaning in pain and cracked one of his eyes open slightly at the figure who towered over his body.

“5 minutes….please” he breathed out, covering his eyes back up with his sweaty arm. He could hear the person above him click his tongue in disapproval before stretching out his hand for Minho to grab. Minho, who was untrustworthy of the man’s intent stayed still for a few moments longer before sighing in appreciation and reached for the mans outstretched hand, grabbing hold.

The man picked him up with ease, and Minho felt his two feet landed squarely on the ground. But just as Minho was about to thank him, he quickly felt his feet go out from under him again and he fell back down on his back, letting out a groan of pain once he hit the floor.

“That was so uncalled for Jisung.” he scowled.

“So was ruining our mission today” Jisung huffed back, landing a leg on either side of his waist, keeping him pinned where he was at.

Minho rolled his eyes in annoyance and let his head fall back to the ground with a loud thud. “We didn’t fail. We got the canister didn’t we?”

“Not the point Baby Cakes.” Jisung sang back “You could have gotten yourself, or worse, the others killed.”

Minho ignored the stupid little nickname and tried to shove the younger off, slightly irritated, but his hold on him was too strong and they awkwardly stayed where they were, Jisung practically straddling him.

“Give me some credit! I’m still new to all of this!” Minho puffed, giving up on pushing the younger off and threw him a small pout.

“You are lucky Felix was t-“

“Don’t you think I know that!?” he exclaimed with exasperation. Suddenly an awkward silence was filled between the two of them and Minho sighed in resignation. “Look…I’m sorry” he apologized. “It’s just…this is a lot…I know I’m a screw up and all….” Memories flashed through Minho’s mind, and unbeknownst to him, his fists tightened. “I’ll get the hang of it…promise…..really”

Was he trying to convince Jisung of that? Or himself?

Minho looked up at the boy in question and noticed the younger looking back down at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes. After a few more moments of silence between the two, Minho finally tilted his head to the side slightly in confusion. “What is it?”

Jisung eyes were intently drilling holes into his own, like he was searching Minho’s face for something. But if he found it, he made no notion.

“Felix said he heard you crying out in your sleep again last night” he said suddenly. Minho felt heat rush to his face and he looked away from the brunette, thoroughly embarrassed.

“It was nothing….” He lied

But Jisung was smarter than that, and in return, lowered his face towards Minho who continued to look off to the side. Jisung took hold of Minho’s chin, forcing the older boy to look at him.

“Minho”

Minho’s eyes went wide. Jisung’s voice made him feel even more embarrassed. It was stern, like he was scolding a child for misbehaving, and for a moment, he almost forgot who was older.

It was true. In the 3 weeks since he had joined SKZ he and Jisung certainly weren’t enemies anymore, but they weren’t exactly friends either. They tolerated each other for the most part, but Minho always found something so intense about Jisung. It caught Minho off guard every time they interacted with each other, and was something to be noted.

Felix was one thing, Hyunjin too. Minho always felt as ease with them, like they were starting to become his friends. But with Jisung it was different, he knew he could never get anything passed the younger boy. It was both a relief and an annoyance.

Jisung didn’t seem to moving anytime soon, so Minho took this time and allowed himself to think back to the painful visions haunting his sleep. Hundreds of Agents swarming him. His body going through numerous torturing practices. Jeongwoo’s lifeless body underneath rubble. Hyunjae standing over him with blood on his kni-

“Minho” there is was again. Jisung’s stern voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned his gaze to match the Youngers.

“Jisung” he pleaded “Drop it”

“We don’t ha-“

“Jisung!” Minho finally hissed, patience all but spent “Please!”

Jisung shook his head, aggravation evident in his own eyes. “You are still back there aren’t you? Back in that hideout? You are letting what Hyunjae did effect you.”

Of course I am! He was my- Minho felt his fists tighten and he threw the boy a warning look.

“Jisu-“

“He is dead Minho. Get that through your head!” he hissed softly “Nothing you do will bring Jeongwoo nor your hyung back!”

Minho grit his teeth and seethed at the younger who had failed to grasp the full picture.. He knew part of his problem, but Jisung failed to see Minho’s problem as a whole. And on top of that he didn’t need to be so cold hearted about it, just yelling it out loud like that.

“Don’t you think I know that?!”

“Then what happened today?” Jisung hissed back “Why are you keeping yourself from changing into the man you want to be?! The man who wouldn’t let another soul suffer under The Order?”

Minho turned his head in silence, unable to look at him anymore. He could hear Jisung open his mouth to say something else, but whatever it was he thought better of it and removed himself off of Minho, walking towards the exit of the practice rooms.

“I’ll trust you to handle your own shit since you refuse to let us” Jisung said, halting right outside the door “But for now I’m going to tell Chan to take you off missions”

“What?!” Minho exclaimed rounding on the younger.

Jisung shrugged at him, turning back towards the exit. “Until I know I can trust you in the field this has to happen. We aren’t playing some video game here Minho-ssi…one life…that’s all we get. And I won’t have someone gamble with my friends’ so easily.”

Without waiting for a response, Jisung pushed his way through the door and walked out of the room, leaving a sullen Minho behind.

Minho stayed still a few more moments longer, waiting until he knew he was alone before collapsing on the floor. He felt Jisung’s words sink in and quickly his anger turned into depression. He let out a long, tired sigh, deciding to retire for the night.

He needed a shower.

____

The walk to his bedroom from the practice room was a short one, but to his sore body it felt like forever. He twisted the handle to his door and opened it to reveal a Felix squealing as he played the latest video game on his bed.

When Minho had joined, he found out that almost everyone shared a room in SKZ for protection. Something about keeping an eye on one another in case The Order discovered their hideout and they needed to flee.

He remembered Chan’s words when he was told he would be sharing a room with the bubbly red head.

“If we are ever compromised, if The Order ever finds us. You are to watch your roommates back and vise versa. If we are all separated, you stay with them until we can find each other again.”

Minho was more than thankful to be paired up with Felix, but he was also a little sad to find out that the only person without a roommate was Jisung. He didn’t pry as to why, but Minho would be lying if it didn’t worry him a bit sometimes.

Thinking of Jisung however, Minho thought back to their fight and his words earlier hit him again. Minho suddenly felt very unworthy of being Felix’s partner. Felix, along with the others were relying on him and so far he was failing them.

“Hey!” his friend chirped, sitting up in bed.

Minho rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and tried to hide his sulkiness with a small, fake smile

“Hey Partner”

Minho winced as he heard his own voice crack slightly, betraying his initial plans. He expected Felix to ask him what was wrong, but if Felix had noticed it the mistake, he made no notion to it.”

“How did practice go?”

Minho shrugged his bag off his shoulder and landed on his bed with a loud thud.

“Jisung is ruthless.” He groaned out, trying to keep Felix from the truth. It seemed to work however because he heard the fiery red head let out a small fits of laugher.

“Yeah Hannie can be tough. Out of everyone in this group he was the only one to give me a run for my money when I first joined.”

Minho cracked open one eye and peaked over “I don’t get why you can’t just train me. I mean we are already roommates……”

What was he saying? He didn’t HATE having the other boy around. If anything, he kinda enjoyed Jisung presence…..emphasis on kinda.

“If you can’t even put Jisung on his back, trust me hyung when I say you’ll never stand a chance against me.”

Minho rolled his eyes playfully at the younger boy and threw a nearby pillow at him. “Yeah Yeah Yeah. We can’t all be Master Assassin’s with god like killing skills like you Felix blah blah blah”

Felix let out a small chuckle and Minho felt a towel landing near his face.

“Take a shower. You stink!”

Minho had hoped the hot water and steam would help clear his mind. But alas, all the showered seemed to do was give him an excuse to go deep into his own thoughts.

He thought back to today’s mission and how he froze up. He thought about how is minor mistake nearly cost them to fail. The plan was simple. Get in, grab the mysterious canister which Minho had no clue as to what it was, and get out. He had gotten the container without a problem, and even sent Hyunjin back early because he felt so confident in his own skills .But he had misjudged the level of his convictions and on his way back up he came across a wounded Agent. The man had been shot by presumably Changbin and was left to die to his wounds. Minho was about to begrudgingly finish the job, but found that the older male was pleading with him. Pleaded him to spare his life. That he a wife and son at home waiting for him.

That’s when Minho’s resolved began to crumble.

Seeing that grown man with tears streaming down his face as he hysterically pleaded for his life.

Minho began to wonder if this was right.

If he was right.

Gun in hand, he had shakenly put the gun to his head, fingers trembling on the trigger. He could hear Jisung yelling at him through his ear piece, but his mind wasn’t registering what he was saying.

After a few more tense moments, with both of them crying, Minho had finally lowered his gun, unable to shoot.

That was his first mistake.

His second was turning his back to the injured Agent, who had took the opportunity and radioed for backup. Next thing he knew, Agents swarmed the corridor in drones. Minho would have been dead if Felix hadn’t swooped in and miraculously got both Minho and the canister out.

But it wasn’t without cost.

A bullet had grazed Felix’s leg and the younger was now on strict bed rest for the next 3 days as instructed by Woojin. He thought Changbin was going to finally kill him when they returned to the hideout.

Minho thought back to Hyunjae’s words. How he had been given strict orders to capture Minho and Minho alone and he felt a lump in his throat. No, he wouldn’t have died today. He would have been taken prisoner by The Order and the others would have died….all because of him.

He pounded on the wet wall next to his head, wet hair covering his eyes as his frustrations began to boil over.

Jisung was right. He is no different from the man 3 weeks ago despite his declaration to change. He didn’t realize just how hard it was to change yourself and over the weeks it began to eat him alive. Hot tears streamed down his face but he made no move to wipe them away allowing the water from the shower head to pound down on his back.

If Hyunjae hyung was here-

No. There was no more Hyunjae hyung returning to his life. His best friend that he knew was no more and that very thought made Minho feel more alone than ever.

He crumbled to the floor, unable to give strength in his legs to keep him up, the water from the shower now hit him and flowed down his head. But he didn’t care. He was losing it….again. With his arms wrapped around himself, Minho began to rock himself back and forth, head buried in his arms, and hands fisted in his hair. He opened his mouth to try and breathe, but instead only managed distorted hiccups as he sat there gasping for air.

Too many times these days did Minho brake down like this. It was something he had developed after losing Jeongwoo and every single time it happened, he would kept quiet about it, fearful the others would notice.

They hardly know you, Why would they care about you?

Minho hated this feeling. Hated feeling lost, abandoned. He felt like he didn’t know who he was anymore.

Eventually, after he would recover himself, he would manage to pull himself out of the tub and place a towel around his wet body. He didn’t dare look in the mirror, fearful of what he would see. Slowly, he opened the bathroom door, and would be less than shocked to see Hyunjin now sitting on his bed, chatting away carefree with Felix. This had become somewhat of a tradition for them since Minho joined the group. Usually Hyunjin would come over to their room, but sometimes Minho and Felix would journey over to his room- preferably when Hyunjin’s cranky trigger happy roommate was off doing a mission for Chan much to Felix’s dismay.

Minho would be lying if he said it didn’t warm his heart even a little bit at their little meetups. They would talk about anything. Sports. Hobbies. Crushes. Anything and everything growing up. It was during this time that he would discover the fact that they were very different people with different likes and dislikes, but they still fit together rather well. It was also a time when Minho would realize just how much of his childhood he had forgotten, struggling to connect with the other two.

At the sound of the door opening, Hyunjin snapped his head around to look at him and gave the elder a toothy grin.

“I heard Jisungie beat you good hyung!” he laughed.

Minho knew the younger wasn’t trying to get under his skin that this was all playful, but still, he couldn’t help but downcast his gaze to the floor, thoroughly embarrassed.

“Now Hyunjin” Felix reasoned “Be nice. You know next to me Jisung is the best fighter in the group. Of course Minho would have issues.”

Hyunjin waved his hand, motioning Minho to sit down next to him. “I know. I know. It’s all in fun. Which actually reminds me-“ he paused as Minho sat down next to him, throwing an old shirt of his over his head. “I’m shocked Chan picked Jisung to be his partner”

“What do you mean?” Minho rested his head on the taller boys shoulder in comfort. Minho was never the touchy-touchy hug sort of guy. The only one he had ever learned to be clingy with was Hyunjae and even then it was mostly Hyunjae initiating it. But in the 3 weeks since Minho had joined, he had learned just how much Hyunjin loved affection and clinginess and often took advantage of the younger boy’s height. It gave him a sense of comfort, especially after having one of his panic attacks.

“Well it’s just…” he stopped, shuffling on the bed some more “Despite being one of the best fighters in the group, Jisung has never been the one to train one of us.” Hyunjin explained.

This caught Minho’s attention and he looked at Felix who just nodded in confirmation.

“Really? Why is that?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Hyunjin had just shrugged in response “No one really knows, but my guess is that Jisung told Chan he wouldn’t train anyone.”

“You think?”

“I do” Hyunjin said while nodding. “Not that I have anything against him for it. I got by fine with Changbin. It just makes me worried for him sometimes…” Minho heard the younger trail off, shifting in the bed and throwing an arm around Minho, pulling him closer.

“Sometimes I worry about all of them” he continued Minho could hear the pain laced in the youngers voice as he explained, like the sheer thought of his friends in pain caused his own sadness and he smiled to himself.

He liked people like Hyunjin.

The black haired boy turned towards Felix “You see it too right? Like I’m not the only one?”

Minho eyes shifted to the younger boy on the other side of the room whose usually sparkling, happy gaze was down trodden slightly and he looked down, sadness evident on his face as well.

“I see it too…” he explained “Sometimes I’ll be hanging out with Changbinnie hyung and I don’t know…sometimes he just gets this look in his eyes. Like a ghost of a memory flashed through his mind or something like that. He looks so hurt, so devastated. But when I ask him what wrong, bam! It’s gone and he acts like nothing happened.”

Minho felt Hyunjin vibrate as he hummed his response. “Same thing happens to Minnie. But you know Minnie.” He let out a long, sad sigh “he neither likes feelings nor the past, so getting him to talk about both is about as possible as getting Changbin to grow taller.”

Both Minho and Felix giggled at this thinking of the shorter boy.

“The funny thing is…” Hyunjin said as the giggling died down. “I didn’t really see anything in Jisung until recently…”

This got Minho’s attention and he poked his head back up to look at the taller boy. “What do you mean Jin?”

“Well….” Hyunjin trailed off “Out of all the original members- that being Chan, Jisung, Changbin and Seungmin….Jisung has always been the hardest to read.” He explained “I just figured it was because he was a computer geek and would often lock himself in his room with his computer all the time. You know, that he was a silent suffering kind of guy but recently…..”

Hyunjin trailed off, not registering just how intently Minho was listening. Felix nodded at this.

“I agree. Jisung never showed any sign of suffering to us…Changbin said after that day…. You know when Sungjin and the others died he had only seen Jisung cry once. But lately… I don’t know… he is getting worse at hiding it.”

“Did something happen?” Minho asked quietly.

“More like somebody” Hyunjin snickered elbowing Minho in the side playfully.

Minho, utterly confused, just looked at Felix who gave him a similar grin as Hyunjin. “What…Me?”

“I mean you gotta admit it is weird timing.” Felix reasoned.

“No it’s not!” Minho spurted out “I mean sure, our relationship has certainly gotten better since our first meeting…. but I’m not…. I mean… he’s not….” he trailed off gazing down. “I’m nothing special” he mumbled.

“Pshh” Hyunjin cackled “Chill out, I’m not saying you guys are like soulmates or anything.-”

“Yeah and you are special!” Felix argued.

-”I’m just saying that even if you don’t notice it, you have an effect on Jisung.” Hyunjin continued. “I mean look! He is the one training you! He hasn’t trained any of us until you came along!.”

“I think it’s just because he is worried that my incompetence will kill you all.” Minho mumbled bitterly.

“Hyung” Felix said seriously “I know Jisung can seem like a hard ass but he really cares about us”

“You” he interjected “He cares about-”

“USSSSSS” both younger boys said, Felix throwing a pillow at him while Hyunjin simultaneously shoved him aside.

“Yeah” Hyunjin said while his laughter died down “for what you may think of him, Jisung is a lot like you… A damaged soul wanting a better life for others.”

The conversation stopped after that and they went on to talk about rather mundane things.

The rest of the night went quietly, or at least that is what Minho thought. He started to tune the two other boys out who chatted away furiously, his mind preoccupied with a lot of things, but preoccupied especially with that of Jisung. Were they right? Did Jisung see something in Minho that he did not see himself? Is that why he had been pushing Minho so seriously?

Next thing Minho knew, Hyunjin was sleepily waving good night leaving the two boys alone. Minho could feel the weight of the day hit him like a bag of bricks and the last thing he could remember before falling into a sleepless black void were the little pings of Felix playing his video game lulling him to sleep.

______

His nightmares were always the same these days. He was always on some sort of Beach, the sky littered with golden rays bouncing off the ocean blue waves. To anyone else this would seem like a perfect dream, but Minho knew better by now. Faceless shadows would appear off the horizon, screaming for him, and as Minho took chase, running towards the unknown voices, he would be stopped as the beautiful orange sky would darken into a raging storm. Rain drops the size of balls would pelt his skin and he would turn his attention back to the shadows who were now replaced with that of his lost friends; Jeongwoo and Hyunjae. They both would look at him like how he remembered, Jeongwoo’s toothless grin, waving enthusiastically, and Hyunjae looking down at him with the fondness glint in his eyes.

Minho would find himself running even faster now, his lungs burning for air. But the same as always, he would be too late to his friends and the raging sea below them would engulf all three of them. Minho would find himself sinking farther and further into the depths below, darkness surrounding him whole. He would gasp for air, despite to breathe again as he reach for the surface above but none would come in return. Finally Minho would drift further and further from the light, eyes slowly closing until he would finally wake up in a breathless panic.

…

Wait.

This wasn’t right.

He should have woken up by now.

Why was he still sinking?

Minho’s eyes shot open and sure enough he was still in the dark ocean world, but the need for air was no longer a necessity and he stopped sinking down below. Despite knowing it was a dream, Minho couldn’t help but panic, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he looked around wildly for any signs as to what was happening6256314. This wasn’t like the others. Something was different.

“Minho”

Minho froze, his eyes closing slowly as he recognized the voice. He spun around and came face to face with the one person who he both wanted to see, and wanted to scream at.

“Hyunjae…”

His former best friend looked like just how Minho remembered, not some thug sent by The Order. There were no masks, no swords in sight. He looked at Minho with his beautiful brown eyes and a small sad smile gracing his lips. Like he knew.

“What is this?” Minho asked harshly, his voice heavy with emotion. “What do you want from me?!”

There was demand in voice, but also a plead hidden within. All he wanted was answers.

But alas Hyunjae did not want to respond, and just continued to look at Minho with an affectionate gaze. Minho clenched his teeth in frustration.

“If this is some sort of trick hyung I swear to go-“

“So I’m you hyung again huh?” his voice was soft with playfulness buy even Minho could detect the immense amount of guilt that was concealed within those words. Not that Minho cared. Not when he thinks back to Jeongwoo’s crushed body under miles of rock.

“Minho” this time Hyunjae’s voice was grave, his gaze now morphing into a hard cold stare. It reminded Minho very much so of the Hyunjae he fought in the underground hideout. The real Hyunjae.

“Not everything is as it seems Minho” he said quietly.

“I don’t know.” Minho sarcastically remarked, anger coursing through him. “It all seemed pretty clear to me. You led Jeongwoo to his death. You kept us from saving him!” his fists tighten up into tight little balls as he looked away in despair. “You hyung! You killed him!” He paused, sadness now taking over and he turned his gaze back up to Hyunjae who gazed back steadily.

“W-Were we…” he winced as his voice broke “Were we just a joke to you?” he asked, tears threatening in the corners of his eyes “Were all those years’ lies?”

Minho hated how weak he sounded, it pissed him off. He had practiced for this moment, ready to speak his mind, his anger, he was going to be strong for himself and for Jeongwoo. But in this very moment, looking at the one person he thought of more than his world, the one person who understood him….he couldn’t stop himself from breaking down.

Hyunjae finally let out a sigh and walked forward, lifting Minho off from the ground that he didn’t realize he fell on.

There they stood, mere feet from each other. Minho couldn’t help but look up at Hyunjae, fear in his eyes.

“Hyung please…” he sniffed “I’m scared….I’m scared I’ve lost you… I..I-” Minho paused, opening his mouth but finding no strength in continuing to say the words he most wanted to say.

“I know Minie” his voice was so soothing. So much like him. His voice was close to Minho’s ear that it sent shivers down his spine and he noted the sincerity in his voice. He felt Hyunjae a hand on the top of his head and ruffled it softly.

Minho almost wanted to relish in the comforting act, to feel Hyunjae’s closeness again, but as soon as it started, it was gone. Hyunjae stepped back, his sudden black attire from before now on this body, mask at his side next to his swords.

“If only you knew the whole story….”

His words faded out as his body soon began to dissolve in the salt water.

“What do you mean?” he hissed desperately, reaching a hand out towards him. But Hyunjae didn’t respond, and the last thing Minho saw was his eyes, staring at him intently, a hidden meaning behind his gaze.

You can’t trust anyone.

“Hyunjae!”

Minho eyes shot open as he jumped up from his bed, body on overdrive. His breathing was ragged as he fought for air and he blindly looked around darkness of the room. He could hear soft snores coming from Felix’s side. He tried to calm himself down but it wasn’t working. Sweat was gathered at the top of his head and his pupils were blown out wide.

The dream had felt so real. Minho tried to wrap his brain around what just happened but found himself in the midst of another panic attack unable to calm himself down long enough to do just that.

His room suddenly felt so stuffy, so congested, he needed to leave. He had to go anywhere but here. He needed out of the darkness. Without even a second thought he busted from his room, blindly running towards the only place he could think of.

Now when Minho smashed his way into the practice room, hitting the floor on all fours, the last thing he wanted, and expected, was company. But alas, fate worked in cruel ways and he found himself now staring at a rather sweaty and surprised Jisung staring down at him.

Minho silently cursed at himself not knowing what exact state Jisung would find him in. He just hoped he remembered pants.

“M-Minho!” Jisung spurted out, eyes blown wide with genuine shock.

Minho looked up, still in the midst of his panic attack. His wide eyes matched Jisung’s and he knew he must have looked like shit. He opened his mouth to speak, to think of some excuse as to why he was there, but no sound came out and he just stared at Jisung, tears in his eyes.

“I…..” he stuttered “…I….”

This caught Jisung’s attention immediately and the younger boy snapped out of his shocked reaction to run to his side.

“Shhh its okay Minho” he soothed “Just breathe”

Minho tried, he really did, but it was hard and he clutched his chest hard, like he was trying to force it to work. If Jisung was saying something, Minho barley heard it and continued to hyperventilate.

Not once in that moment did he feel Jisung take hold of his hand, squeezing tightly, nor did he register being pushed into his chest, an arm wrapping protectively around him. He could feel Jisung saying something into his ear to soothe him but he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear anything but the rapid beating of his own heart and his terrified gasps for air he made. Minho squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus really hard on what Jisung was saying to him.

“-t’s okay. Just breathe. Breathe Minho. That’s it. Keep breathing just like that. Shhhh”

How long they had stayed like that Minho couldn’t say. Jisung just continued to rock Minho back and forth, telling him softly how it was going to be alright and Minho sought solace in the younger boy’s chest, despite the pure embarrassment he was feeling as he nuzzled his head slightly against his shoulder.

Finally, after what felt like years, Minho let out one final deep breath, his body stilling and together with Jisung sat in silence, trying to register what just happened. Eventually they separated, Jisung taking a seat behind him and resting his back against Minho’s.

And they stayed like that.

For Minutes. For hours. Minho didn’t really know.

But it was comforting. Feeling Jisung’s back against his own. Silence between the two of them.

“..I’m sorry” he finally whispered, voice hoarse from the lack of air.

He could feel Jisung shake his head almost violently in response, the backs of their heads now leaning on one another.

“Don’t apologize” Jisung mumbled “I…..I know how scary those can be….” Minho heard the younger boy trail off, voice quiet and Minho hummed in appreciation but knew he owed the younger more than just that.

“I- I had a nightmare” he explained letting out a humorless chuckle “Listen to me…I sound like a little kid….”

Jisung was quiet for a few moments before nudging Minho with his elbow “Hey….everyone gets nightmares sometimes, it’s okay to have them”

Minho could feel his lip quivering as he held back tears

”It’s…… It’s okay to be afraid….”

Minho choked back a sob as he let out a silent cry, tears spilling from his eyes.

Jisung made no movement towards him, but in all honestly Minho was almost glad he didn’t. Just the constant feeling of his back against his was enough comfort to him. He let out a few more muffled huffs, trying to calm himself down and wiped his tear stained face.

“I’m-I’m so tired of them” he hiccupped. “Ever since I could remember I have had them…. Hyunjae hyung used to …..” he trailed off realizing what he was saying. He shouldn’t use honorifics when speaking that name, especially not around Jisung. Minho couldn’t so simply forget how his former best friend almost killed Jisung in cold blood. The very thought made Minho’s blood boil and he looked at the ground in shame. “Sorry” he mumbled “Forget it”

“No” Jisung nudged his arm again “Tell me…what did Hyunjae used to do when you had nightmare?”

Jisung’s voice was unbelievably soft, unbelievably soothing, and it caught Minho off guard.

It reminded him a lot of Hyunjae and that very fact scared him.

“…Well” he said hesitantly “When they were particularly bad…and I would wake him up, he would run over to my place…no matter the time” he explained “He would hold my hand… and listen to me as I told him about it….”

This was stupid. He was stupid. Jisung wasn’t about to humor Minho and listen to his petty prob-

“So then….” Jisung started “Tell me.”

Minho tiled his head slightly so that he could look at the boy. Jisung kept his gaze straight forward, not looking back at Minho, which gave the older boy a chance to notice Jisung’s soft features. His light brown hair ghosting over his honey tan skin. The small button nose that he never perceived until now. Even from this angle Minho could still see his cubby squirrel-like cheeks. It was at that moment that Minho realized how much of Jisung he hadn’t noticed or appreciated until now.

And it was nice.

Minho slowly turned back around and let out a quiet sigh, soon telling Jisung of his dreams of the beach.

He clasps his hands together, trying to keep himself from shaking. “Usually my dreams end with me drowning…..but this one….this one…was different.” He paused, his eyes closing as he thought back. “Hyunjae appeared.” He said slowly “He stopped me from drowning…. And….this is going to sound crazy and I don’t know why or how…but he was talking to me. Like actually having a conversation to me….like he knew…he knew what had happened between us….I could hear the regret in his voice when he spoke to me…..”

“Minho….” Jisung finally said.

“I know, I know” Minho interjected, fearing the ridicule that might come from thinking such silly thoughts “It’s just a gut feeling is all…..”

Jisung was silent for a while and Minho feared he had just convinced the younger boy of his craziness. He could feel Jisung shift behind him and Minho tensed, fully expecting insults thrown his way.

“Minho” he asked quietly “Can I ask you something? Something that’s been on my mind since that day in the hideout?”

Minho froze, unsure where the younger was going with this, but nodded slightly in response. “Sure.”

….

…

“Did you love him?”

Minho’s eyes shot wide as felt his heart drop to the floor, and his face heat up in embarrassment. He had never actually spoken out loud his true feelings for his once best friend, not once. To Minho, it was a feeling unneeded in his life. Love. Loving someone. To Minho, it was pointless. In this day and age at least. Did that stop him however from thinking about how soft Hyunjae’s hand felt in his? How safe Hyunjae made him feel when they were together? How all he wanted to do sometimes was to keep Hyunjae away from the stink that is the world? How he could see himself being perfectly happy with him for the rest of their lives? Sometimes when Minho would have his nightmares, Hyunjae would stay next to him until Minho fell asleep, and Minho often thought how nice it was to cuddle up to him....

“…….I don’t know….” he replied finally.

Jisung didn’t say anything at first and felt the younger lean his head back onto Minho’s, looking up at the ceiling.

“You know I thought I was in love once…” Jisung mused. Minho scoffed lightly, and he could almost feel Jisung’s smile from behind him. “I know. I know. Someone who actually wanted a brat like me…who’d have thought?”

Minho learned back further into Jisung’s back and an attempt to ease the boy. “I don’t know…. you’re more of a catch than Changbin”

“Yeah that’s true…I don’t see what Felix sees in him.” Minho could hear the younger laugh with him, but he could detect a hint of raw sadness laced within his laughter. He nudged Jisung after a few moments of silence finding that his own pain was ebbing away the longer he stayed there.

“So what happened to him?”

“Hmm?” Jisung seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else.

“The person you loved. What happened to them?”

“Oh….” Jisung trailed off, voice heavy with emotion. Minho froze, feeling a tension in the air as he waited for whatever Jisung was about to say.

“He killed my brother.”

Minho’s eyes shot open in disbelief and he spun around to face the younger boy, who had unbeknownst to him turned his own head around to face Minho’s. He looked at Minho’s reaction and let out an emotionless chuckle in response, shame evident in his eyes. He turned back around, forcing Minho to lean his back against his again.

“You know about Sungjin I’m guessing.” He started.

Minho hesitantly nodded, unsure of what to say.

“My brother…Younghyun was with him when he died.” Jisung mumbled quietly, voice wavering. “He stood on that stage when….then The Order….” Jisung’s words were jumbled up, like he was forgetting how to speak. It very much caught Minho off guard. Sure he had seen Jisung angry. Minho had seen calm Jisung. Minho had seen caring Jisung. But this Jisung. This Jisung was new. This Jisung sparked something in him. To Minho, seeing Jisung cry felt wrong. He was always so strong. Suddenly all he wanted to do was throw his arms over his shoulders and tell him it was going to be alright, just like he had done for him.

“Younghyun….he was a lot like you” Jisung explained, sniffling as he wiped his tears away. “He was stupid. He was headstrong. He never liked seeing anyone in pain.”

Minho smiled down, gazing at his feet “Sounds like a real idiot” he said quietly.

“But most importantly” Jisung said pushing his back further into Minho’s “No matter how scared he got. No matter the odds stack against him. He would always fight for those he loved.”

Minho mouth went try as he tried to process what was being said. Younghyun sounded incredible. He sounded amazing. And yet…how did he remind Jisung of him? He was nothing like that. He was a screw up. He was a failure. Nothing like Jisung’s brother.

“I don’t deserve that kind of comparison” Minho whispered, his earlier insecurities popping out.

He could feel Jisung tense slightly behind him. It was a few more moments before he opened his mouth to respond. “Look…I know I’ve never been the easiest on you. I know our first meeting was something shy of horrible. But-“ Minho felt a pair of hands grab his shoulders, spinning him around in his spot so that he could face a beautiful teary eyed Jisung, face puffy from crying but determination all the same in his gaze.

“When we went down to that hideout to find Jeongwoo…I saw glimpses of my brother in you. Something in your eye when you spoke of rescuing Jeongwoo….I found myself suddenly wanting to believe in you Minho….and that….that was very much like my brother. And that’s why it frustrates me when you freeze up….when you put yourself in danger.….. I loved my brother more than I could ever say…..and I had to watch him die……. So losing someone who reminds me of him... I don’t know….” his voice wavered again and he took a moment to recompose himself before continuing. “I don’t want to go through something like that ever again”

Jisung took his hand, wiping tears away from Minho’s face that he did not notice falling. He stared at Jisung, not knowing what to say. Finally after a few more tense moments he opened his mouth.

“T-The boy. The boy you loved” Minho’s voice was barely audible, the moment at the time hitting him as he so barley let his cheek rest on Jisung’s hand. “You said he killed your brother…”

Jisung nodded, a sad smile on his lips, not removing his hand from Minho’s face. “A story for another time perhaps.” He whispered with emotion.

Minho simply nodded, not wanting to show his disappointment. Jisung removed his hand from Minho’s face, standing up, and offered Minho his extended hand. The elder hesitated and Jisung let out a small chuckle, nudging his hand towards him.

“I promise Minho” the younger said “I won’t kick you back down to the ground again.”

Minho stared up at Jisung, his brain mentally malfunction as he stared at the unbelievably beautiful boy in front of him. His heart swelled at the thought of them becoming friends and suddenly everything in his world felt like at that moment.

“Hyung” he mumbled quietly, not taking his eyes off of Jisung’s as he took hold of his hand “Call me hyung”

Jisung smiled at this, lifting the older boy off the ground with ease. The two stayed like that for a few moments longer, unmoving as they looked at one another with a newfound respect. Finally Jisung squeezed his hand one final time before letting go. “Get some sleep hyung.”

Jisung then turned around, much to Minho’s disappointment and started towards the door. But before he could fully leave, he suddenly turned back to him and Minho had to stop himself from laughing as he saw the red tint to the squirrel boys cheeks “and hyung….if you ever have another nightmare….and wanna talk about it “ he paused, looking anywhere but Minho “Just uhhh…..you can come talk to me…….”

Jisung’s flustered state broke Minho and he let a small fit of laughter. He gave Jisung a wide grin, his eyes turning into crescent moons. “Thank you….Jisungie”

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teddyvelvetz · 6 years

Text

Vines Chapter 1 - Teacher

It’s hard to rest. It’s hard to not give up. But you have to keep going forward.

Notes: Hopefully the next chapter is less of a downer. Be prepared for it to get spooky!

Prologue: Here

Siarl belongs to @herpalerp-derpin Samantha belongs to @bluepiizza/ @littlepixiebutchbitch (I don’t know which one to tag you under) Felix belongs to @metaveil

Chapter 1 - Teacher

Rose sprinted down the corridor to the room in the sick bay that she shared with Felix on Cloud Carrier Epsilon. Her shoes were in her hands, bare feet thumping against the ground. There was no time to slip them on because she was late once again. The young medic knew Felix was going to kill her. This had been the fourth time Rose was late for her duties.

The young woman burst into the room, startling the taller and older man inside. Papers for his hands fluttered to the ground. He glared daggers at Rose. All she had to give him in response was a meek smile.

“Good morning, Felix,” Rose shyly greeted.

“What’s so good about it?” Felix grumbled, stooping down to pick up the papers to a file. “You’re late again, there are new recruits coming in, and now Siarl’s file is all over the ground!”

Felix stood out from the other medics. This was mostly thanks to a freak accident involving nuclear power and Monsuno essence. The man towered above everyone in S.T.O.R.M, his skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and his hair was a shimmery white. His looks paired with his personality made him practically unapproachable to most people aside from Rose. Being Charlemagne’s brother didn’t help get him friends either. But Felix didn’t exactly take just anyone as good company.

Rose crouched next to Felix. She took the papers the older medic had already picked up and continued gathering the rest.

“I got this,” she smiled apologetically at Felix “, you go gather the other files for today’s appointments. Siarl is assigned to me anyways.”

Felix stood with a huff. “I’m glad you got the downer job instead of me.”

He walked to the cabinet and began to sort through all the files. Rose sighed as she finished gathering the papers. Felix didn’t show it, but he did care about Siarl’s condition. That was his nephew after all.

“I’m going to go check up on our guest,” Rose said as she headed towards the door that led from their shared office space to Siarl’s room.

“Don’t call him that,” Felix snapped “, this isn’t a bed and breakfast or something.”

Rose laughed nervously as she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She was greeted to the rhythmic beeping of Siarl’s heart monitor. It was steady as ever. Rose headed to the sink in the corner of the room. She watched the thirteen year old boy’s chest rise and fall.

After washing her hands and putting gloves and a face mask on, Rose began her daily routine with Siarl. She checked his vitals, washed him, changed his clothes, changed the sheets on his bed, replaced the bags for his catheters, and made sure he was getting enough water. The young medic made sure to change gloves and wash her hands in between each step of the process. Later she would feed him through a tube. It was hard work, but vital for the boy’s health.

When Rose finished up with changing the child’s bandages she removed her gloves and washed her hands one final time. Rose walked over to Siarl. She gently brushed the boy’s bangs out of his face with her burn covered hand. Rose noticed how similar her wounds from Earthshaker were to Siarl’s. It made her feel a kinship to the boy.

As Rose entered back into the office Felix stood from his desk to greet her. He looked down at the small, young woman.

“How is he?” Felix asked.

Rose shrugged, “The same as always. At least he’s not getting worse.”

Felix nodded. He pat Rose’s fluffy hair. She tilted her head in confusion at the sudden moment of affection. Felix gave a brief, nervous cough.

“Are you sleeping ok? To say you look tired would be an understatement right now,” Felix tilted Rose’s head up so he was looking into her eyes. “Is your medicine working?”

Rose shook her head, “I still have the chronic pain all over the left side of my body.”

The Core-Tech merger had been rough for Rose. It wasn’t trying to get along with the S.T.O.R.M troops or follow Jon Ace’s orders; it was her own body’s fault. When Earthshaker mauled her, it almost killed her. The whole left side of her body was severely burned and left her bleeding out. When One-Eyed Jack and the Desert Wolves found her they had the crazy idea of using some Monsuno essence they had stolen to heal her. It had worked in its own twisted way. Unlike Jon or Felix, Rose had barely changed. Her wounds closed up. Recovery was difficult, but doable. It appeared that she was going to live with only a blind left eye and horrible scarring all over the left side of her body as a consequence. Boy was she wrong.

It seemed the stress from battling the forces of Klipse and Professor Tallis had strained Rose. She started collapsing, coughing up blood, and began to have seizures. When Felix examined her, he discovered Rose had internal wounds from Earthshaker’s attack that did not heal. The past few months had been filled with surgeries, rehabilitation, the development of chronic pain, and testing medicines. Rose was cracking under the pressure, but didn’t want her friends to see it.

“Well I’ll see what else I can give you,” Felix sighed as he placed his hands on Rose’s shoulders. He was trying his hardest not to show worry, but the wrinkles in between his brows gave it away. “I can’t have you shirking your work.”

Rose grabbed his hands, giving her superior a big smile. “How about we just run away and start that bed and breakfast together?”

Felix rolled his eyes and went back to his desk to fill out paperwork. Rose was about to go to her desk when the Core-Tablet on it chirped. The young medic gave the device a tap, pulling up a message.

“Hm, it seems dad wants to see me for some reason.”

Commandant Marshall Jon Ace’s office was relatively comfortable. Instead of just the basic furniture that had furnished the office since it was built, Jon added a few family photos to the mix. A few were of him and Rose at different ages in her life. One of them was when she was three and he had taken her to a carnival on his off time. Another was of Rose first joining the Strike Squad as their field medic. She looked so shy and scared standing next to Alpha, but X-Ray had a hand on her back to steady her. The two most recent photos featured Rose with Team Core-Tech, Dax’s arm slung around her and all the kids grinning. The one on his desk was of him and Rose just after he had been rewarded the title of Commandant Marshall. She was hugging him so tight, so happy to have him back and not Toxic Ace.

Rose had been Jon’s daughter since a recon mission years ago. It was only a team of two: Jon Ace and Trey. The two were still only elites at the time. Their goal was to find any survivors in a decimated town brought to ash from some sort of bomb. Jon had pulled her out of the rubble and had taken it upon himself to raise her. She was only three and could barely say her own name. He didn’t know what possessed him to keep the tiny child, but he’d stuck with his decision and tried to be the best father he could be at only age 23.

Jon would not call himself Father of the Year, but he thought he’d done the best he could. He felt he had done more than Jeredy Suno. Jon loved the man, but the way Jeredy was so absent from Chase’s life disturbed him. At least Jon let Rose know what was happening. He made sure Rose understood Charlemagne was losing it and that she needed to go find Chase to keep him safe. Jon just chalked up Jeredy’s odd behavior as a side effect of Sophia Suno’s disappearance along with the amount of intense stress that Charlemagne’s work put him under. The Commandant hoped that with Sophia’s return and some therapy Jeredy would get better. Chase really needed him.

Currently Jon was sitting at his large desk. His fingers drummed the desk rhythmically as he watched the large door. He hoped Rose hadn’t gotten lost again. This was important. He had finally found a way for his daughter to feel important to S.T.O.R.M even with her disability. Jon knew being barred from Core-Tech’s missions and not being able to leave the cloud carrier was beginning to wear her down. She needed something to occupy her time.

A reluctant knock sounded from behind the door. Jon smiled softly.

“Permission to enter!” he called.

The door slid open, revealing his daughter’s small frame. As Rose entered she smoothed out her uniform to the best of her ability. The medic gave a salute.

“Yes dad-! Um! I mean, sir!” Rose stammered out.

Jon chuckled, “At ease, Rose. It’s just you and me. You’re allowed to call me dad. Come have a seat. You look tired.”

Rose took the invitation, flopping on one of the plush couches of the room. She still had no idea what Jon could want from her, but at least she was resting her aching muscles. Her good eye followed Jon as he got up and sat next to her. Jon reached his arms around Rose and pulled her into a hug.

“You know I love you, right?” he asked.

Rose hugged back tight. She missed her dad. He had to work all the time since he was S.T.O.R.M’s boss now. It was rarely ever just the two of them. She knew there wouldn’t be any dad and daughter vacation time for a while either.

“I do,” Rose mumbled into his chest.

They pulled away from one another, Jon still smiling. Rose hadn’t seen Jon not have a super serious face in a long time. He must be really excited about something.

“I called you here for a really important reason,” Jon said.

Rose’s heart fluttered. Was he going to ask her to go on a mission? Was she going to get to join Core-Tech on a mission? Heck, she’d take a recon mission with Strike Squad! She just wanted to leave the base for a while.

A knock at the door brought Rose out of her thoughts. Who could that even be? She didn’t know Jon had called others.

“Come in,” Jon instructed.

The door slid open to reveal a girl that was maybe only one or two years younger than Rose. She wore one of the new recruit uniforms that cadets usually brandished right after getting out of boot camp. Felix had mentioned earlier new recruits were coming in today. Maybe this one was just lost.

Rose studied the girl. She had bright, excited eyes. Her light blue hair was ruffled and soft looking. A card key hung around her neck so she could get into different wings and rooms until S.T.O.R.M’s database registered her handprint for the key pads.

“Samantha reporting for duty, Commandant Marshall Jon Ace, sir,” she said with a grin.

“At ease, Samantha,” Jon Ace ordered. He stood and shook the girl’s hand, his large hand engulfing her smaller one. He then turned his attention back to Rose.

“Samantha is a new member of S.T.O.R.M that’s still trying to find her place here. She was working with the cooks below deck, but it wasn’t working out,” Jon explained.

Rose wrinkled her nose. Was that why food was coming up extremely burnt or disgustingly undercooked lately? Dax had been joking that someone new must have been in the kitchens. Jon continued.

“I figured that you of all people know how hard it is to find a place in S.T.O.R.M. I was hoping you could take her under your wing as your apprentice.”

Rose felt a mixture of shock, pride, and anxiety. She felt honored that her father deemed her worthy of teaching another all there was about being a medic, but she didn’t feel ready. Plus, taking an apprentice meant rarely leaving the ship. She wouldn’t be able to be a field medic anymore!

“D-Dad-! I mean Commandant Marshall Jon Ace, I am honored, but I’m only seventeen. I’m still training under Felix. Isn’t he supposed to still be teaching me? I’m his assistant,” Rose feebly tried to excuse herself from the situation.

“I think it would be good for you to move up into being an actual medic. You can still assist Felix, of course. But Samantha will now assist you and in return get valuable knowledge to help those around her. Doesn’t that sound rewarding? It would be just like when Ryu took you as an apprentice when you were only thirteen and when Felix took over your training after S.T.O.R.M and Core-Tech merged. I know Samantha is only slightly younger than you, but you have years of experience and knowledge on her. She needs your guidance.”

“B-But-!” Rose whined.

Jon crossed his arms. He was getting defensive. “Rose, I understand things have been difficult for you lately. This is a lot to adjust to. The last surgery you had to fix a hernia in your stomach was really hard on you physically. I have to relieve you of your duties as field medic for at least several months.”

“Dad! I-!” Rose began to argue.

“And before you say anything else, I talked to Team Core-Tech about it. They all agree that it’s better if you stay here till you get better. Once you’ve healed more I’ll let you go on missions again. We don’t need to be in the middle of a vital mission and you collapse under the stress or have a seizure. Are we clear, Rose?”

“Yes, dad,” Rose mumbled.

“Pardon? I didn’t hear you,” Jon’s eyes bore into his daughter. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, young lady.”

Rose looked up, eyes resting on Jon’s lips. He never understood why she couldn’t look others in the eyes. “Yes, Commandant Marshall Jon Ace. I understand.”

Jon grunted, “Good. Now go take Samantha and get to know one another. I know when Team Core-Tech returns from their mission in Coastal City you won’t be able to separate yourself from Dax the rest of the evening.”

Rose flushed red. She glanced at Samantha who looked equally as awkward to be present during this argument. The young medic rose from her seat. Before leaving Jon stopped her at the door and enveloped her in another hug.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you, Rose. I’m just so worried. I want you to be happy and safe. I promise you, as soon as you show some improvement I’ll assign you to a mission,” Jon said this soft enough so Samantha could not hear. He didn’t want his image to slip too much in front of the new recruit.

“I know dad. I’ll see you after dinner,” Rose replied with a reluctant smile.

Rose left the room, Samantha following quick on her heels before the door slid shut. Rose turned to face the girl. Samantha was tall enough for Rose to have to look up to talk to her. What was with everyone being so much taller than her?

As soon as Rose faced her, Samantha let out a giddy laugh. She grabbed Rose’s hands tightly. The trainee’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Oh my krag! I am so excited to meet you! I can’t believe I’m training under you!” Samantha said with so much cheer in her voice that Rose could put a taste to the sound of her voice. The sound was like a fizzy root beer float on her tongue.

“Th-Thanks,” Rose stammered “, it’s n-nice to you meet you too.”

“You can’t imagine how excited I was when Jon sent me a message on my Core-Tablet saying he wanted me to work with you! You of all people!”

“I don’t really see what’s so special about it?” Rose nervously laughed. It was hard to stay calm around this much energy bottled up in one human. She had a feeling Felix was not going to like her.

“You’re so good at your work! You know every plant, ever. You’ve saved people’s lives! With, like, plants!” Samantha cheered.

“Oh, um, I was just doing my job. You’ll see. You’ll save people too,” Rose shyly replied.

Samantha softly smiled down at Rose. Rose turned around and began to walk off. Samantha caught up to her in a few strides and grabbed her new mentor’s hand.

“Where are you going?” Samantha asked.

“To show you the medical wing,” Rose replied “, I need to show you where you’ll be working with me. I also need to introduce you to Felix.”

“You mean the Ghost of the Sick Bay?”

Rose stopped in her tracks and turned around. She looked up at Samantha, a serious look in her eyes.

“Please, for the love of all that is good in this world, do not call him that. Unless you immediately want to be on his shit list. Which, trust me, you don’t,” Rose shook her head “, Rule number one of being my apprentice: Leave Felix alone. Let me talk to him.”

“Yikes. I guess I have lot to learn, huh?” Samantha chuckled.

Rose sighed, “You have no idea.”

#monsuno #vines #writing #I hope the grammatical errors aren't too bad #I have trouble catching them #jon ace #oc #rose #siarl #felix #samantha

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secretlystephaniebrown · 7 years

Text

submersion

You know the feeling when you get a prompt from someone completely unexpected? Well,, that was my feeling when the amazing, beautiful, and elusive @elenicooper (aka my best friend in the entire world) declared she’d read the deprivation universe, she loved it, and she had requests. And since this gal is, you know, my everything, I dropped what I was doing to write the requested prompt.

The prompt was: “a Tucker and Wash shower scene, like maybe when Wash is just back but they don’t trust him to shower by himself. Or a sponge bath. That would also be yummy.”

I’m not sure if “yummy” is the word I would use to describe this, but I’ve got showers and Wash and Tucker. Hopefully you all can enjoy!

Warnings: Torture and captivity and trauma. And fluffy aftermath! (you can skip to the second section if whump’s not your style.)

Also on Ao3

The first time they clean him is not too long after they pull him out of solitary confinement and start training him.

He’s back in his cell, nursing a broken nose and bruised ribs among his other injuries that are adding up quickly. He’s not being given time to heal or recover; he gets a few short hours of sleep every night, before Locus or one of the pirates yanks him out and throws him into whatever new exercise they’re putting him through that day.

So far, it mostly just seems to be making him screw up so they can kick him around. That and whatever it is they’re trying to do with the tape. He’s never given instructions, just punished when he screws up, and as a result he’s a mess.

At night, his dreams are filled with his friends being put through similar scenarios.

Locus opens the door and looks down at Wash. Wash doesn’t get up onto his knees the way Locus wants him to, stays curled up in the corner with his back to the wall.

“He’s filthy,” Felix says. “Honestly Locus, don’t you know you need to clean your pets?”

Wash doesn’t react to Felix calling him that, just like he doesn’t react every time the pirates use that word.

Locus tilts his helmet at Wash and holds out a bowl of soup. No spoon, of course—Wash will have to lap at it like a dog or drink, depending on how much Felix wants to humiliate him. Wash considers not eating to spite them, but he did that yesterday, and his stomach growls. Glowering, Wash moves towards Locus—on his hands and knees, because they knock him down every time he tries to walk properly in the cell—and sits up on his knees in front of him.

He’s allowed to drink the soup, for which he’s twistedly grateful, but then comes the other part. Locus holds up the pills.

Wash moves away like he always does—he has no idea what the end goal is for the drugs they’re giving him, but he does know that it makes him unable to fight back and that it can’t be good, whatever it is.

Felix moves forward and grabs him, forcing his jaw open so Locus can force-feed him the pills. Wash gags as they’re pressed in, his head tilted back, and closes his eyes as he feels the tiny little pills go down his throat.

“Time to clean you up,” Felix says cheerfully, and Wash tries to struggle as he’s pulled to his feet and escorted down the hallway.

There’s green tape in front of the bathroom, and Wash has figured out enough of the strange color-code they’re trying to engrain into him to know he needs permission to cross that line.

Locus seems satisfied as he spots Wash’s hesitation as they pull him towards the door. “You have permission,” he says, and pulls Wash over the line.

Wash wants to be relieved when he spots the shower stall, but he somehow doubts that’s how it works.

His hands are wrenched behind his back suddenly and painfully, and Wash winces as the cuffs fasten tightly around his wrists.

Still clothed, he’s shoved forward until he’s into the stall, and Wash turns back to face them, wanting to see what they’ve got planned.

“Five minutes,” Locus says flatly. “If you leave before then, you will regret it.”

Wash almost doesn’t understand when the shower comes to life and an involuntary yelp bursts out of his mouth.

The water is icy cold, and the torrent of it is hard and fast enough that it’s borderline painful, dousing him thoroughly and soaking his clothes through. He tries to move closer to the wall, hoping he can escape the spray, but there doesn’t seem to be a dry spot.

Outside the stall, he can see Felix and Locus. Felix has a knife out, leaving Wash with no doubt as to what his punishment would be if he tries to leave.

Wash tries to inch towards the corner, hoping to find at least a partial respite, but the tile is slippery beneath his bare feet and he falls. His forehead hits the tile hard and he sees stars. He struggles, trying to regain his footing, but his body isn’t responding to his commands.

He hears Felix laughing in the distance, but the noise is faded and muffled.

Wash isn’t sure if it’s the drugs, the cold, or the exhaustion that has been seeping into his bones over these past few days. All he knows is that he can’t get to his feet again, and his teeth are chattering. The water feels like hail against his skin, and Wash grits his teeth and tries to protect his face as best he can, figuring that waiting it out is his best option. At least this way he can deny Felix the entertainment.

The water stops, and Wash tries to force himself to his feet again. But Locus gets there first, grabbing the chain of the handcuffs and forcing Wash to his feet.

“Back to your cell,” Felix says. “Hmm, no that’s not right. A kennel, maybe? That’s where you keep pets, right?”

“Fuck you,” Wash manages, despite the shivers that are racking his body.

Felix laughs, and there’s a flash of silver in Wash’s periphery as Felix presses a knife against his ear. “I’ll punish you for that tomorrow,” Felix purrs. “You need to learn to respect your handlers, Wash.”

Locus says nothing, just keeps dragging Wash down the hallway back to his cell. “Why do you fight, Washington?” He asks as he shoves Wash to the ground. Wash doesn’t get up, just stays there, waiting for Felix or Locus to undo the cuffs. “No one will come for you. You will break. You only fight the inevitable.”

Wash says nothing; he’s already going to be paying for his defiance.

“The cuffs stay on,” Felix says. “Turn down the room temperature, would you? This punishment’s an all-nighter!”

Wash closes his eyes tightly, still shivering. Wet clothes and a cold room all night… he’ll be lucky if he doesn’t catch a cold.

And it’s going to be miserable even if he doesn’t.

It’s an effective punishment, Wash thinks, even as he curls himself into as tight of a ball as possible to try to find some warmth, even as Locus and Felix leave him, locking the door behind them.

But they won’t break him.

The others are coming for him.

Wash can’t shower on his own, they discover this after a few days.

Every time Tucker tries to gently lead him into the shower, he starts shrinking and yelping and won’t actually clean himself, even when Tucker does the thing he hates most and orders Wash to. He just hunches there and shivers, looking at Tucker with miserable eyes. It’s even worse if Tucker’s not there or tries to leave, then he just curls up in a corner and shakes.

Grey has very gently suggested that maybe Wash can manage a shower if Tucker is in the shower with him.

Tucker’s been resistant to the idea, because it’s not right. There’s boundaries, aren’t there? It feels wrong, doing this when Wash can’t tell him to “fuck off, Tucker” or “stop being a pervert and give me twenty”.

But Wash is absolutely filthy because he keeps wandering into empty storage closets and finding dusty, cobweb filled corners, and nothing is working, so Tucker gives in.

They’re using the showers attached to the hospital, so there’s a modicum of privacy, and Grey’s right on hand if Wash has another panic attack. But for now, Tucker carefully closes the curtains behind them.

At least he doesn’t have to undress Wash—Wash removes his clothes quietly as soon as the outer curtain closes, putting his clothes on the little bench that’s there for that purpose.

Wash isn’t freaking out with Tucker here, which lends credence to Grey’s theory, which is fucked up, because how the hell did Locus and Felix make showering alone a punishment?

But then Tucker remembers that being alone is almost always a punishment for Wash, and he swallows hard.

He promises himself he’ll get an answer from Felix before he stabs that fucker right through the chest. Not the heart. He doesn’t have one.

When the water starts up, Wash relaxes, staring at Tucker expectantly. Tucker awkwardly picks up the bottle of shampoo—his hair is disgusting—and carefully reaches up to start to massage it into Wash’s scalp.

Wash melts, letting out those delighted little noises he makes when he’s not just being touched, but he’s being touched just right, and he closes his eyes and just lets Tucker carefully scrub the shampoo into his hair.

Felix and Locus hadn’t bothered to let Wash keep up his hair dye routine, so there’s more grey in the blonde than there should be. Tucker gently makes Wash turn around so he can scrub the back of his hair, and carefully avoids touching Wash’s neck, which has managed to become even more of a mess of scar tissue than it was the last time Tucker had examined Wash’s neck. Grey has said they had fucked with Wash’s implants, but it’s one thing to know that, and another thing to see the new, fresh looking scars overlapping with the old ones.

Wash starts to shiver, apparently finding the water too cold, and Tucker carefully reaches out and takes his hand, guiding it to the temperature control. “Left for warmer, right for colder, okay Wash? Can you do that?”

Wash hesitates, looking back at Tucker as he withdraws his own hand. Getting the hint, Tucker returns his hand to pressing over Wash’s, giving Wash the excuse he needs to start adjusting the temperature of the water.

The temperature Wash picks is almost too hot for Tucker, but he lets Wash have this; the guy is constantly shivering. Caboose has suggested that Wash was locked in a freezer, and honestly Tucker could believe it. It sounds right up the two assholes’ alleys.

Hair cleaned, Tucker starts to scrub Wash down with a loofa, despite the awkwardness involved. But there’s nothing sexual about it; it’s the furthest thing from Tucker’s mind right now. He just keeps cleaning Wash until he’s confident that there’s no dirt left, then turns off the water.

Opening the inner curtain, Tucker grabs the fluffiest, softest towel that Grif had been able to scrape up, and wraps it around Wash, drying him off. Wash makes a little noise that Tucker can’t place, and then presses his forehead against Tucker’s shoulder. Tucker sighs and runs his fingers through Wash’s wet hair, trying to comb it into some kind of order. After a little while of this, Tucker pulls away and makes Wash get dressed. But as soon as Tucker’s own clothes are on, Wash presses back against him, getting that look in his eyes that usually means he’s expecting to get shoved back. He’s cold, Tucker realizes, spotting the goosebumps up and down Wash’s arms.

“You just got steamed in a shower, and you’re still cold?” Tucker says to Wash, but he pulls Wash in so that he’s pressed against him. Tucker runs warm, always has, and Wash presses into him like he’s a cat who’s found a sunbeam. Wash’s wet hair leaves damp patches on Tucker’s shirt, but Tucker really can’t bring himself to care, not when Wash looks almost unafraid for once, as the shivering fades away.

“I take it we had a success, Captain Tucker?” Grey says, poking her head in. She smiles when she sees them. “Well. It’s good to see we’re making progress, Agent Washington. Don’t you worry, you’ll be back to your old self again before you know it! With a teeny bit of long-term trauma, of course!”

Wash doesn’t respond to Grey, just closes his eyes and clings to Tucker like he never intends to let go.

#Steph Writes #deprivation verse #Agent Washington #Lavernius Tucker #Felix #Locus #Red vs Blue #the best friend tag

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