#i guess his name could just bee from the root of the same word but i like to think its from ephemeroptera!!!

[rabbit-rays]

nominative determinism

(mayflies on the left from 'mayflies in a sunset dance' by philip henry gosse)

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts union x #khux #ephemer #kh ephemer #had a version f this with excerpts from the wiki page on mayflies but it looks better without it #i guess his name could just bee from the root of the same word but i like to think its from ephemeroptera!!! #he only lives for a day!!!! man.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 19 (Part Two)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from Season 2 🍒

My focus is on Gavin x MC interactions, so content relating to the plot will be in bullet-points :>

Part One: here

[ Notable Scene: Infiltrating the STF ]

MC: ...but aren’t you relieved from your duties?

Gavin seems to guess the words I haven’t said, and he lets out a soft, unnatural cough.

Gavin: I know every patrolling post in the STF, patrol timings and angles of the surveillance cameras. I can ensure that we’d get in successfully without anyone noticing. However, since I only saw his face from four years ago...

MC: I’ll go with you. As long as I see his face, I can point him out to you.

Gavin has a teasing smile in his eyes, perhaps seeing the urgency written on my face.

Gavin: In that case, let’s go for a walk in STF tonight.

-

Late at night, Gavin and I infiltrate the STF through an outer wall.

Pale moonlight outlines a misty halo around him, softening his edges.

He finds an open window with ease. Lifting me up, he lets me jump through the window before leaping in himself.

This appears to be a utility room.

MC: Captain Gavin’s really good at this.

Gavin: This is the STF. I won’t bump into anyone even with my eyes closed, much less the walls.

Before Gavin finishes speaking, Tang Chao walks in with a bowl of instant noodles, a wicked smile on his face while he pushes the door open.

Tang Chao: Instant noodles must be eaten on the sly. Otherwise, I might-

When Tang Chao sees Gavin, he pauses in his footsteps.

In this short span of time, we look at each other speechlessly, the only thing left being the steam rising from the instant noodles.

All of a sudden, Tang Chao rolls his eyes, his body doing a 180 degree turn. With the instant noodles in hand, he steps out of the door before closing it.

Gavin: ...

MC: ...didn’t you say you wouldn’t bump into anyone even with your eyes closed?

Moonlight streams in from the window, illuminating the side of his face clearly. I turn my head stiffly, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs slightly.

Gavin: Tang Chao is slacking off.

Tang Chao’s slightly frantic voice can be heard indistinctly.

Tang Chao: Since Captain hasn’t been around, there were changes to the duty roster... Please save me. That was so awkward. Oh no, I don’t want to run laps...

I stare at Gavin quietly. His expression has returned to normal, as though nothing happened.

Gavin: It’s okay, let’s continue.

Gavin listens to the surroundings calmly. After a moment, he pulls me out of the utility room.

Suddenly, a set of uniform footsteps can be heard from behind us.

STF Agent: ...

Even before we can turn, the regular footsteps turn into small, scattered steps, akin to busy bees fleeing in disarray. The surroundings slowly return to silence.

MC: Have we been completely exposed...?

With a soft cough, a reddish hue climbs up the tips of Gavin’s ears.

Gavin: It doesn’t count if we aren’t caught. 

Eli (through the speakers): Hey hey hey.

Eli’s voice suddenly drifts from the STF’s broadcast speakers. Gavin carefully pulls me over to hide in a shadowy corner of the corridor.

Eli (through the speakers): ...due to some indescribable reasons, all the surveillance cameras in the STF will take a break for 15 minutes. If a certain colleague wishes to go somewhere or do something, please do so quickly.

Gavin: ...

MC: Pfft.

Seeing Gavin’s slightly speechless expression, I can’t help but laugh aloud.

This person is protected by many people who are unafraid of anything, isn’t he?

After this, we occasionally bump into familiar faces. However, they seem to have made a prior arrangement, and choose to ignore us.

Gavin seems to hesitate on whether he should make an explanation, but it eventually turns into one sigh after another.

In the end, we “very successfully” step into the room with the “Eye in the Sky” system.

Using the system, Gavin retrieves footage from the football match, and MC is able to identify the wheelchair-bound man, Du Wen

Gavin then searches up information on him as well as his approximate whereabouts

The both of them find him in a small alley

He admits that he’s the founder of the Fulcrum Charity Organisation, and has been assisting Gray Rhino in whatever he can

He claims that he means them no harm. To prove this, he allows MC to read his memories

Although they find the circumstances too convenient and deliberate, MC reads his memories because why not

She notices that certain memories have been stored in a misty bubble, just like the “firewall” she installed for Gavin earlier

Still, she searches for memories from the New Years Change Incident

She "sweeps” these memories into her own mind, and confirms that he’s indeed a victim of the incident

Gavin asks how he should contact Du Wen in the future, and the latter says he’d appear during a safe time

Once they leave, MC tells Gavin that they can use the Golden Apple 2 to display the memories she saw

Gavin says that Du Wen’s words aren’t trustworthy, but at least they have some leads that could further guide them to the truth

The next afternoon, MC learns from Kiki that the exhibition hall will be re-opening the next day. So she contacts Gavin and plan to sneak into it that same night

When she arrives, there’s someone else with Gavin - an elderly man with a missing left arm

She finds him familiar

[ Notable Scene: MC meets Captain Yan ]

Gavin: MC, this is the old policeman, Captain Yan. Today, he’s mainly here to cover for us. Captain Yan, this is...

Captain Yan: No need for introductions. You’ve mentioned her many times.

Before I can express my shock, Captain Yan sends me a warm gaze.

Captain Yan: MC, we met once at the hospital. I always hear your name from this young lad, so I’m pretty familiar with you.

Captain Yan smiles teasingly, then gives Gavin a meaningful look.

Captain Yan: If he ever bullies you, remember to tell me. As his senior, I’ll give him a proper scolding.

MC: O-okay! Thanks, Uncle Yan.

Gavin: Cough. We’ll leave the pleasantries for next time. We should go now.

With this, Gavin speeds up and walks forward, a faint red hue climbing up the tips of his ears.

Seeing Captain Yan’s grin, I hurriedly lower my head and follow after him.

MC: Gavin, wait for me!

With Captain Yan keeping watch, MC and Gavin use the Golden Apple 2

In the simulated memories of the New Years Change Incident, Gavin notices post-injection bruises on Du Wen’s hand

Du Wen and those around him don’t seem to know what’s going on, but they’re frightened due to the sounds of gunshots and explosions outside

A handful of Evolvers revolt, but are shot to death by officers dressed in NW uniforms

Du Wen flees, and the both of them follow after him

In the end, they watch as a beam crushes the lower part of Du Wen’s body

At the same time, a drone in the simulation appears to take aim at MC

[ Notable Scene: Gavin’s Protection ]

Gavin: MC!

An urgent exclamation drifts to my ears. Turning to the voice, I see Gavin lunging towards me involuntarily.

Those amber eyes grow large in front of me. In the next second, I’m enveloped in Gavin’s arms.

My cheek is pressed tightly to his chest, and powerful heartbeats echo at my ear.

His heart is beating very quickly - so quickly that my heart subconsciously matches its frequency.

“Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.”

It’s as though these powerful heartbeats are the only things left in the entire world.

In every difficult or dangerous situation, I’m always able to hear this sound.

It’s as though they have melded into my bloodstream, becoming a kind of instinct.

Gavin: It’s fine, there's no need to leave the system.

Gavin’s hand is by his ear. After stating his judgement calmly, he looks at me.

Gavin: Are you okay?

MC: Gavin, this is fake.

Gavin: Mm. But my body seems to have reacted a little faster than my brain.

His amber eyes reflect the blood-coloured sky, filled with worry and fret that he hasn’t had the time to shed off.

Gavin: Whether it’s real or an illusion, I don’t want you to get hurt in front of me.

MC: But they would simply pass through my body.

Gavin: Not even if they pass through.

He speaks unyieldingly.

MC: Okay, whatever you say.

Gavin: Let’s get out of here.

They continue looking at the chaos and hear the sounds of crying and screaming

Gavin appears composed, but the fingertips holding onto MC are quivering, as though he's barely suppressing his anger at the injustice before him

The scene shifts, and what appears before them is a NW laboratory

Du Wen has thick tubes stuck all over him, and he’s submerged in a gigantic apparatus

MC traces that the memory is from 2 months prior to the New Years Change Incident

A senior official from NW walks in, and he seems to be in charge of a secret experiment

[ Notable Scene: Gavin and MC’s Future Father-in-law]

His eyes are steadfast and icy, as though nothing can sway him.

And nothing can destroy or obstruct him.

Gavin stands rooted to the spot. He watches as the man draws closer and closer to himself-

And walks straight through him.

Gavin has already matured into someone whose height is on par with his. They have incredibly similar features, and they even share an identical straight and powerful gait.

However, Gavin doesn’t turn around. His entire body remains stiff until the world gradually gathers into a patch of darkness.

He doesn’t move. The faint white light causes him to look pale.

Slowly, he lowers his head, covering his eyes.

I stand behind him, not saying a word.

That senior official is Gavin’s father.

Once they’re out of the Golden Apple 2, Captain Yan notices how solemn Gavin looks

Gavin takes Captain Yan and MC to a simple apartment to talk

Gavin fills Captain Yan in on what they saw

Captain Yan and Gavin start discussing what happened, and MC heads over to the window to look at the view despite the best view being Gavin

Gavin brings up the laboratory, and Captain Yan asks if he saw “that person”. Gavin grits his teeth and says, “I saw him.”

[ Notable Scene: The End of Chapter 19 ]

Gavin: MC, I’ll send you home.

By the time Gavin comes up from behind me, Captain Yan has already left.

I notice Gavin’s tense lower jaw. He seems to be doing his best to appear natural in front of me.

To appear as though he doesn’t care.

Seeing this person before me, I feel my heart being clenched tight.

MC: Gavin, I want to go somewhere before heading home. Could you accompany me?

-

When we leap over the walls of Loveland High, confusion flashes across his eyes.

The gentle evening breeze brushes his fringe, and his figure is immersed in patches of moonlight.

It’s been a very long time since I last returned to this place. But images from this place always surface in my mind.

The field, the stairs, the roof, the gymnasium late at night, and the infirmary.

During that period of time I had re-lived, I wanted nothing more than for time to move a little faster.

So that I’d be able to reach that day when I could walk over to him a little sooner.

However, this year, I’m reluctant to let time pass by as quickly. 

During the time in which the wind blew by, that young man filled all my memories related to youth.

That’s how reluctant I am.

That’s why I’ve been walking slowly on purpose. Even so, in just the blink of an eye, he disappeared in the breeze of youth.

Pulling on Gavin’s hand, we walk along the field, and walk into the depths of the forest behind the school.

MC: Gavin, I think you’re angry.

I turn my head to the side to look at him. Gavin simply furrows his brows slightly, and it’s clear that he feels a little uneasy.

MC: You don’t need to pretend that nothing’s bothering you in front of me. Anger isn’t something you should feel ashamed of.

Gavin: I...

He opens his mouth, but something sews it up again.

A fierce wind suddenly rises, causing countless fallen leaves to swirl in the air.

They are reminiscent of incessant, agonised screams.

Gavin: I... just can’t understand. There are clearly many other methods. There are many other choices.

His words are blended into the wind, suppressed and pained.

I don’t turn my head to look at his expression. I simply stand beside him quietly, our fingers interlaced together, standing in the middle of the fierce gale.

With the flow of time, the fierce gale becomes calmer. In the end, it morphs into a gentle breeze, brushing our fringes.

Gavin: MC, thank you.

I shake my head, turning my head towards him.

MC: Gavin, do you know something? The reason why I brought you back here was to tell you that I hope your beautiful memories won't simply be confined to high school. Beautiful things should continue, and never end.

While saying this solemnly, my heart speeds up uncontrollably.

Gavin’s pupils quiver slightly, and he squeezes my hands tightly.

Gavin: Thank you.

Very softly, he repeats these words.

MC: Let’s walk around a little more before heading home.

I chuckle happily, my footsteps becoming incomparably lighter.

All of a sudden, my palm feels empty -

It’s as though Gavin released my hand.

Feeling puzzled, I turn around to find that Gavin had simply shifted his hand behind his back.

MC: What’s wrong?

Gavin: ...nothing.

When the girl’s confusion is dispelled and she continues walking forward, Gavin lowers his head to look at his vanished right arm, his expression composed.

As compared to his right hand disappearing the last time, the scope seems to have grown larger this time.

Gavin follows behind the girl calmly, contemplating quietly.

His time might be shorter than he imagined.

Gavin chuckles softly, the corners of his lips hooking upwards slowly.

Gavin: MC.

I pause in my footsteps and turn around, realising that we’re several footsteps apart.

MC: Gavin, what’s wrong?

Gavin: I just received news from Captain Yan. I might have to leave for a while.

MC: So suddenly?

Gavin: Sorry. After sending you home, I’ll set out.

He looks at me apologetically, as though suppressing something once again.

-

After returning home, I quickly remove my shoes and rush to the window to search for that figure.

Guessing that I’d do this, Gavin doesn’t leave immediately. He stands downstairs, waiting for me.

A gust of wind burrows in through the window, as though carrying with it slight reluctance as it makes gentle twirls around me again and again.

I lean my palm against the glass, wanting to say another farewell to him.

MC: Gavin, you must return safely.

💙 Calls and Moments: here

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#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin

[ohayohimawari]

And it was Love at First Brawl

A drabble written for Day 7 of @kakaobiweek Violet | Music | Fantasy

This is another humorous piece appropriate for teen-and-up readers and set in a modern AU.

This drabble is heavily inspired by my good friend @azuzeldraws incredible art series, Metal Konoha, and I dedicate this chapter to her. Thank you, Zu, for letting us use your amazing work to promote this event!

And it was Love at First Brawl

It was one of those Friday nights when Kakashi left the restaurant with a stomach full of his favorite supper and an empty soul after dining alone.

Though the day neared its end, Konoha’s club district was just beginning to wake. The streets were full of jaywalkers, inexperienced parallel-parkers, and the night owl versions of early birds lined up in boisterous queues waiting for the bars to open.

Kakashi felt entirely out of place and maybe almost too old for this scene while he dutifully waited at the corner for the pedestrian crossing light to signal his turn. He stepped into the crosswalk once it was safe, and he saw a man on the opposite side, jogging towards the intersection to cross before the light changed.

Kakashi stopped in his tracks in the middle of the street, entirely entranced.

He watched the individual blades of the other man’s black, unruly hair as they bounced with each step. He wore a t-shirt that fitted him like he was born to wear it and a healthy glow on every inch of exposed skin. His sparkling eyes met Kakashi’s as he trotted past him on the street and offered a greeting through a roguish grin. “Hey.”

And that was all it took.

Being a classic lit teacher, he had a multitude of words at his disposal. That man was vivacity personified, and Kakashi turned on his heel, following him with his eyes. The dark-haired man ran right up to the door of the seediest bar on the street and gleefully skipped up the stairs. He exchanged laughter and a handshake with the bouncer and disappeared inside.

The pedestrian light flashed red, alerting Kakashi that he still stood in the middle of the street. His feet moved of their own accord, and a moment later, his brain agreed with their plan. He retraced his steps, abandoning his intention to go home, knowing he would abandon much more than that for a chance to meet the stranger that charmed him.

As driven as he was, Kakashi hesitated for a moment outside of the club, assessing it. The sidewalk in front of it was littered with empty bottles and cigarette butts, and two people appeared to be doing something he didn’t want to interrupt in the shadows of the alley next to it. Then, he assessed himself.

He was dressed more casually than usual, out for a date with nobody but him, wearing a t-shirt that featured a band called ROOT. He had no idea who they were, or why they used all capital letters, but his students chose it from the trendy store Boiling Subject as a gift for him, and it was comfortable after wearing a tie all day. Deciding that his attire was appropriate for the venue, Kakashi walked up the stairs that led to the door, where he was stopped by the same menacing bouncer that laughed only moments before.

“You sure you wanna do this?” The man growled through scarred lips.

“Pretty sure,” Kakashi replied, though his confidence wavered.

“We don’t want any trouble.” The man’s muscles bulged in a show of strength as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I don’t want to bring any,” Kakashi replied, honestly.

“Let him in, Ibiki.” A pony-tailed bartender wearing a high-cut shirt that showed more cleavage than fabric chastised the bouncer.

“Whatever you say, Anko,” Ibiki moved aside to allow Kakashi into the bar.

As foreboding as the exchange was, it caught the attention of the handsome dark-haired stranger who stood at the bar. Bolstered, Kakashi stood in the space next to him.

“What can I getcha, hon?” Anko tossed a stained cardboard coaster onto the bar in front of him.

“A beer,” Kakashi ordered as if he’d never been to a pub before, too nervous to recall his favorite drink.

Anko retrieved a bottle from the cooler behind her while Kakashi withdrew a few bills from his wallet. Then, he wrapped his hand around the bottle of Lone Ninja Star she offered after opening it with her teeth.

Kakashi ignored how unhygienic it was to take a sip from the bottle as he did it, glancing around the bar, looking everywhere but at the man that led him there. It was half-full of patrons in various stages of sobriety and had a stage all set up and waiting for a band to perform. When he finished noting where all the emergency exits were, the most incredible thing happened.

“Cheers,” Mr. Vivacity said, bringing their beer bottles together in a toast.

“Cheers,” Kakashi replied, then pulled a long swig from the bottle, savoring the moment that the man of his dreams had spoken first.

“So, uh,” the dark-haired man glanced down at Kakashi’s shirt, and a chuckle bubbled out of him, “you like this band too?” He tilted his head in the direction of the stage.

“Um, yeah," Kakashi stammered, "I mean, yes. Yes, I do."

"Cool," Mr. Vivacity replied with a smile that made Kakashi's knees buckle. "Which of their CDs is your favorite?"

Kakashi's quick mind kicked into gear on the spot. If the band had multiple releases, then the safest answer would be, "I think their first one."

"Really?" The dark-haired man appeared pleasantly surprised. "So, you're an old-school fan, huh?"

“Yep, I guess I am,” Kakashi laughed a little awkwardly and brought his beer back to his lips.

“I think my favorite track on that one is, Kill Me With Your Kekkei Genkai,” Mr. Vivacity nodded, thinking aloud, and Kakashi felt his eyes bulge, worried that he might not be able to keep up the facade. But then he was spared when the other man suddenly changed the subject. “By the way, my name is—”

“Crybaby Tobi, you finally made it!” A man with slicked blonde hair and wearing a shirt with religious cult symbols literally crashed into their conversation, spilling his beer on Kakashi’s shirt.

The unwelcome interruption glanced at him. “My bad,” he drawled unapologetically, looking down at the soiled shirt. Then, his eyes shot up to meet Kakashi’s.

“WHOA! You’ve got balls, man!”

“Thank you,” Kakashi decided to take it as a compliment, turning towards the bar to grab a few napkins. He blotted at his shirt when Anko shouted to him that there was a hot air dryer in the men’s room, and, as much as Kakashi didn’t want to walk away from Mr. Crybaby before he could learn his real name, he didn’t want to stand there like an idiot in a wet ROOT t-shirt.

By the time he exited the bathroom, a makeshift merchandise table had appeared near it, so he bee-lined to it to learn more about the band to contribute to a conversation about them. At least, now he knew the band’s name was ANBU, and he wondered what was up with bands using all capital letters.

He had barely begun to browse the tracklist on the back of one of the CDs when the purple-haired, facial-pierced woman at the table asked, “You gonna buy that?”

Something about her tone made Kakashi feel obligated to pull out his wallet, and he handed over a twenty-dollar bill.

“I don’t have change for that,” she deadpanned, bored, and sarcastic.

Suddenly, the bar erupted with shouting, so Kakashi quickly grabbed a second CD to even out the exchange and hurried back to the bar and Mr. Vivacity, or Crybaby, or whoever he was.

Then, his heart sank when he saw that the other man wasn’t there anymore.

Kakashi stood in front of the stage feeling like the biggest fish out of water when the club’s sound system screamed into life with the ear-splitting sound of feedback through the amps. Kakashi covered his ears and spun around in time to catch the band taking their positions onstage.

The singer set down a six-pack next to his mic and yanked one can of beer free from it. He held it sideways in his hand, pulled out a kunai, and stabbed it in the middle before bringing the punctured hole to his mouth.

“Tenzō! Tenzō! Tenzō!” The crowd chanted while he shotgunned the beer and cheered when he crushed the empty can against his head. He grabbed the microphone in front of him when his large, almond eyes made bigger by copious amounts of black eyeliner landed on Kakashi.

“What the fu —” He roared, launching himself off the stage, tackling Kakashi to the ground.

Even though he was a classic lit teacher, Kakashi held his own for a long time in a fight against a bar full of punks until he took one bottle to the head too many and woke up in the alley next to the bar.

“Hey,” Kakashi winced as he turned his head to see who spoke to him, already recognizing that voice and feeling a little happier than concussed. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Kakashi muttered, “thanks, Mr. Crybaby.”

“It’s Obito,” the other man laughed, “and you’re welcome, Mr. Metalhead.”

“I didn’t fool you for a second, did I?” Kakashi licked at his fattened, split bottom lip, hoping he looked like he deserved sympathy. “I’m Kakashi, by the way.”

Obito snickered and pressed a bag of ice against Kakashi’s head. “I figured you didn’t quite know what you walked into, wearing a ROOT t-shirt to an ANBU gig.”

“What was that all about?”

“Tenzō used to be the drummer for that band, but he had a big blow-up with their manager, Danzō, so he quit and formed his own band. There’s a lot of bad blood there.”

Kakashi looked down, embarrassed, not knowing what to say and feeling like a total idiot.

“Why did you come to the bar?” Obito asked quietly.

Kakashi sighed through his nose. If he learned anything that night, it was that honesty probably came with less violence. “You.”

“Me?” Obito asked, even more timidly.

“Yeah,” Kakashi glanced up at him. “You passed me on the street, and, I… I just had to meet you,” he felt a little like a weirdo admitting it out loud, but he was past the point of stopping now. “I dunno, I, I just had a feeling, and I didn’t want to let you slip away.”

“Me too,” Obito confided, lowering the bag of ice, and Kakashi peered at him through the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “I was just about to run back out when you showed up at the door. I uh, I’m the sound guy here,” he tilted his head towards the bar, “and I was running late; otherwise, I would’ve stopped right there in the crosswalk. But when I saw the band was running late, I was about to go after you,” he ended with a shy smirk.

“You’re the sound guy?” Kakashi’s brain was turning to mush and it had nothing to do with how many blows he took to the face.

“Yeah, I, uh,” Obito brought the ice back up to Kakashi’s head, “I messed with their levels hoping the feedback would distract Tenzō long enough for you to get out of his line of sight, but,” he grimaced.

“You wanna go for a drink with me?” Kakashi mumbled, knowing he couldn’t embarrass himself anymore that night.

Obito chuckled at him and held up his hand. “How many fingers do you see?”

Kakashi focused on the fingers in front of his face. “Three?”

Obito laughed louder and stood up, “Wrong.” He helped Kakashi to his feet, “Looks like Konoha ER is our first date.”

#kakaobiweek2021 #kakaobi #kakashi #obito #day 7 #hima writes

[bush-viper-cutie]

“Everything Goes Wrong” || YEAR 3 – Ch.39 (HP au)

                              Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter                          Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 2/2/2021

Word count: 3,346

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

The tunnel was much larger than Heather remembered it being. Under her wand’s soft light, it seemed more open and less constricting. On her way through the first time, it felt like the walls could cave in at any moment, crushing them before the Grim or Sirius Black could get a chance. Now it felt like the tunnel was experiencing one long, full breath as wind came in through the Whomping Willow’s opening far ahead.

Heather breathed in just as deeply, opening up her lungs and filling them as much as possible like she was taking in her very first breath. It smelled damp and the dusty mud the others kicked up pricked at her lungs but the knowledge that everything was now under control was enough to soothe the stings.

Heather looked on ahead at the strange, tall man in front of her, still holding Snape up like a doll on strings by Snape’s own wand. By the way Snape’s head bumped on the rough ceiling of the cave, Sirius seemed more focused on the path ahead, eyes trained on glimmer of light just beyond. Sirius’ long curls caught on branching roots but he paid the constant tugging no mind. Did this feel like a second prison break for him? With Peter Pettigrew, he would become a freer man than when he broke out of Azkaban.

Heather winced at the fifth bump to Snape’s head. “I don’t think he’ll forget I blasted him against the wall with so many scrapes and bruises to his head,” she whispered.

Sirius turned to her. “He’ll have more to worry about when he wakes up than you and Harry’s attack on him.” He flicked his wrist down and the toes of Snape’s shoes began dragging along the floor, kicking up more dust but saving his forehead from future scrapes. “He won’t very pleased to see only Peter taken away in chains… and less so to see me freed and reunited with my old pal.”

There was more color to Sirius’ face now, making him look only a bit less grim and skeletal than minutes before.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Do you two know what all this means?”

“Yes. You’re free,” Harry declared from the back. “They won’t be sending you back to Azkaban ever again.”

“Yes…” Sirius kept looking onward but his free hand fidgeted at his side, pulling on the tattered holes of his grey-striped shirt. “Yes, but… Well… You know I’m – Your parents made me your Godfather… to the both of you – I don��t know if anyone ever mentioned it.”

“We overheard it,” Heather admitted. She looked back at Harry who was looking up at Sirius intently. The light of their wands reflected of his scratched glasses and although she couldn’t see his eyes, she could guess she’d find a spark of excitement in them.

“That would make me your appointed guardian,” Sirius continued more stiffly. “That was, if anything happened to them…”

Heather gripped her sweater, feeling her hands begin to shake.

“Of course you both have full say in where your home is – I wouldn’t wish to take you from your aunt and uncle… And… Well… See, once my name is cleared – should you ever want a different home – if you wanted…”

“Are you suggesting we live with you?” Harry stepped on Heather’s heal – she hadn’t realized she had slowed down her pace. “Leave the Dursleys?”

Sirius shook his head and coughed. “No – No, of course I thought you wouldn’t want to – ” he said quickly. “I understand, I just thought you two would want to know you have a choice should you – ”

“Are you insane?” Harry’s smile could be heard through his croaky voice. “Of course we want to leave the Dursleys! Right, Heather?”

“Oh,” Heather nodded. “Yeah.”

“Have you got a house? When can we move in? How many room’s it got? Oh – !”

Heather elbowed Harry in the ribs to push him off her. In his excitement he’d almost begun to climb over her to get to Sirius, as if his proximity would get him answers faster.

Sirius whirled around – Snape’s body instantly began drifting up again – and smiled ear to ear at them. Heather could see why his animagus was a dog. If he’d had a tail he’d be wagging it faster than bee’s wings.

“You really want to? The both of you?” Sirius beamed down at them. “Mean it? Really?

“Yeah, we mean it!” Harry shook Heather’s shoulder. “Heather?”

She nodded and smiled up at Sirius. “We mean it.” Harry beamed at her confirmation as brightly as Sirius and she felt wholly engulfed in their collective eagerness.

Heather pushed Harry’s hand off her shoulder. She looked up at Sirius’ gaunt face and tried to envision that she might one day find it familiar and friendly. He turned back around and at her reminder and lowered Snape’s body back down.  Their conversation had only left his forehead a little scratched.

The grunting up ahead had brought the three of them back down to earth. They were only just getting Peter up out of the hole. It took Hermione a few minutes to direct Professor Lupin and Ron on how to maneuver themselves and a few longer to help Sirius get Snape out of the hole in one piece. Heather crawled out, heaving her body onto the grass, and extended her hand down for Harry to take. His hand squeezed hers and she pulled him up fast.

“Can you believe it?” he whispered to her as they stood and shook off dust.

Heather brushed off her shoulders and watched Sirius take in the grand castle up the sloping grounds. They were so far away it almost looked like it was on an entirely different mountain, resting on the edge of a small cliff above the glittering lake.

“Everything will be different now,” she whispered.

Harry squeezed her arm. “Different good.”

She nodded and looked down at the lake. There were lights dancing on its surface. She could almost count all the Hogwarts windows reflecting off the water. ‘Different good.’ …At least Hogwarts seemed to always remain the same.

“Let’s get going.” Professor Lupin called down to them, already moving up the hill. “And one wrong move Peter…”

“I’ll drop the snake and aim for your head,” Sirius threatened.

Hermione, Harry, and Heather brightened their wands and illuminated the path for the others as they walked on silently. The castle lights slowly grew larger and very curiously, less bright. Heather looked down at the lake, almost obscured by the growing forest, and caught sight of a large white moon reflecting clearer and clearer as they walked.

Through the light wind she heard a grunt and stopped, shining her light on the abrupt jam of their party. Sirius had bumped into Snape’s body, which had knocked into Ron who had bumped into Peter who was pressed up and quaking against a very still Professor Lupin.

Sirius looked down at the ground, at their growing shadows, as the moon bathed them in light. He froze and stuck out an arm, signaling them back to him.

Heather kept her eyes on Professor Lupin’s rigid body as his limbs began to tremble one by one. “It’s a full moon…”

Hermione gasped. “He didn’t take his potion! He’s not safe!”

“Run,” Sirius hissed. “Run! Now!”

Heather turned and stopped, whipping back around to Ron. “Ron…”

He was bent down awkwardly, desperately pulling at the chain around his ankle. Harry dashed forward to help him but Sirius pulled him back, dropping Snape.

“Go! Leave it to me! RUN!”

Heather hesitated with Harry and Hermione, still unsure if it was safe to leave Ron and run away. A sickening snarling noise broke the air. Heather’s eyes flickered over Professor Lupin, or what was left of him not yet morphed into a monstrous figure. His head lengthened out into a long snout with jagged teeth and a slobbering tongue. His shoulders hunched and jutted out inhumanly. Rough hair sprouted out along his face, hands, and neck. His shoes shredded in two and rolled down the hill, as if running from the enormous claws that had split them apart. With a single snap of his long jaws, the werewolf wrenched itself free of the shackles that held on to his wrist and ankle.

A large black streak dashed across Heather’s vision. The blur lunged for the werewolf’s neck and pulled it backwards, away from Peter and Ron. The giant bear-dog held its ground as the werewolf broke free and turned, growling deep. In an instant they were locked, jaw to jaw, claws tearing into shoulders and pulling fur by the clump.

Heather snapped her gaze away from the violent battle and looked around at Harry and Hermione. Both as transfixed as she had been. Ron had stopped pulling on his chains, instead pressing himself to the ground in an attempt to melt away among the grass, and Peter –

“NO!” Heather screamed.

Peter pulled Professor Lupin’s wand up from where it had dropped and aimed its tip at his head.

Harry rushed forward. “Expelliarmus!”

The wand in Peter’s hands flew out into the shrubbery behind. Heather’s breath caught and the scenery almost melted away. The sudden snaps of powerful jaws quieted, the grass seized to sway, and the moonlight brightened around Peter. For a second it felt like Harry had done it. Harry had prevented a horrible disaster.

But Peter grinned at them and Heather’s heart sank. In a blink of an eye, the little man shrunk and transfigured into a large rat with patchy fur and bent whiskers.

Crookshanks – who had taken refuge behind a rock at first sign or Professor Lupin’s condition – now jumped out from the shadows and chased after the bald tail poking out from the shifting grass as Scabbers scurried downhill and away.

Heather clutched her throat and tried to breath in. ‘The Servant Will Break Free And Set Out To Rejoin His Master. The Dark Lord Will Rise Again With His Servant’s Aid, Greater And More Terrible Than Ever Before,’ Trelawney’s raspy voice echoed in her mind over and over in overlapping waves. The prophecy will come true! “No, no, no.”

“He’s gotten away! Sirius needs him!” Harry turned back to the beastly fight happening feet away.

A shrieking wolf howl ripped through the air and before they could dive for the ground next to Ron, the werewolf leapt over them and ran into the forest at full force. The giant dog limped after the wolf, staggering off his intended path more and more with each pained step, padding out of sight.

Hermione dashed for Ron who was still on the ground, arms covering his head protectively.

“Is it gone? Please tell me it’s all miraculously over.” He looked up at Hermione who could only look on to Heather and Harry to answer the question.

Snape was still crumpled on the ground, Sirius was gone, Professor Lupin was gone, and Peter Pettigrew was gone.

“We – We need to get to the castle. We take Ron to Madam Pomfrey and tell Professor Dumbledore Snape’s out here and – ”

“And that Sirius is innocent?” Harry interrupted her. “We have no proof. None at all. And if those dementors find him…” he trailed off.

Heather gulped. He was only a few steps away from her. She took a step towards him and he backed away, already pulling his hand farther out of her reach.

“Harry…” Heather warned.

A wounded whine carried softly through the wind and Harry was off, running down the moonlit grounds into the shadowed forest near the lake’s edge.

She took a step, intending to speed off after to him when she saw Hermione point out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw Snape reaching for the back of his head with a weak hand, but that wasn’t what Hermione was pointing at.

“Dementors!” Hermione took out her wand but did not know which shadowy figure to aim for.

It looked like dozens of unnatural clouds of blackness were blowing in against the wind. The whispy shadows floated in groups across the sky in the same direction as Professor Lupin, Sirius, and Harry, cutting the moonlight beams like nightmare-ish blades as they went.

Heather shivered and fell to her knees, wincing as a cold wave washed over her. Guilt prickled her chest and traveled through her arms, numbing her. She’d let Peter get away. If she had told Harry they could have taken higher precautions. She should have used Expelliarmus on Snape. He could have been restrained and listened to it all. So many things could have prevented Harry from leaving her, running off and facing a werewolf and dementors alone… Heather shook her head, refusing to let her brain dig into her fears. “Think happy… Happy thoughts…” There wasn’t anything happy she could grasp onto. Not a single cheerful event, joyous occasion, or delightful day came to mind. It was all so horrible, painful, and lonely… and cold.

Slowly the image of a large castle pushed through fog, with torches glowing in every window and flames undisturbed by the sweeping wind. A vast lake that reflected every window only disturbed by the ripples from the giant tentacles greeting dozens of small boats. The rush of excitement upon first seeing Hogwarts filled her blood and she sucked in a fresh breath of chilly air.

She looked up and saw the last of the cloaked figures duck below the tree lines. Hermione lay next to Ron and they both looked deeply asleep. Snape got to his feet quickly and looked her way, giving her a cold glare, and turned his attentions to Hermione and Ron.

Heather breathed in again and stood, wiping her grassy hands on her skirt and looked towards the edge of the forest. Harry was in trouble. She hugged and arm around herself and held in a sob, pulling her wand out.

“Don’t even think about it.” Snape growled.

“But Harry – ”

“Take them back to the castle!” Snape pushed her back and ran down the hill. His cloak billowed in the wind making him look like a dementor flying low across the grounds.

“But how am I to – ” Heather cut herself off and gaped at the two stretchers floating at chest-height.

Hermione and Ron each lay on one and when she pushed Hermione’s, Ron’s moved in parallel. She turned back in search of Snape but the wind was already stitching the clouds back together to cover the moon. She had to trust Snape would save him… Professor Snape. If she was trusting him with Harry’s life… and he was risking his own life to save him… he at least deserved that bit of respect from her again.

She turned to her friends and pushed the stretchers up the darkening lawn until she reached the entrance steps. She hesitated with the first step, not sure if she kept pushing it would only ram the stretchers straight into the fifth step, but after a hesitant push she realized the stretchers knew what to do and raised themselves accordingly.

She pushed on the doors and found they opened with easy, left unlocked by Professor Snape from when he rushed out after Professor Lupin.

“Out of bed! Students out of bed!” Mr. Filch screeched from down the entrance hall, waving a finger as he jogged down.

Heather sprinted to the entrance hall stairs yelling back, “Don’t lock the door! There’s more coming!” Shocking Mr. Filch to a halt.

She took the stretchers up to the hospital wing and pounded on the door, wishing Madam Pomfrey would hurry up and take Hermione and Ron so she could run back down to help Professor Snape with Harry… If he’d saved him… She shook her head. “Of course he did.”

“Five more minutes…” Hermione muttered.

“Hermione!” Heather stopped her pounding and shook her awake.

“Miss Potter!”

Heather jumped as Madam Pomfrey flung the door open and scolded her.

“It’s nearly midnight and – Oh my! Bring them in – bring them in.”

Hermione rolled off her stretcher and looked around as Heather took Ron’s stretcher to the farthest bed.

“What happened?” Hermione still looked weary-eyed.

“My question precisely.” Madam Pomfrey’s accusing eyes bore into her, having more than enough reasons to believe it was one of their faults.

“I remember dementors.” Hermione lifted her hand to her mouth. “Oh and I suppose Ron’s leg is also broken from a bite wound.” She rubbed her eyes and stumbled as they followed Ron’s stretcher to a bed.

Madam Pomfrey only rolled her eyes and got to work on Ron. “There’s chocolate in the cupboard if you need it,” she said over her shoulder.

Heather motioned Hermione to sit and opened the cupboard. She scanned shelf after shelf until she spotted brown little chips filled to brim in a lidded jar. She took a handful and walked back to Hermione, pouring them into her hand. She jerked her head and motioned for the chairs against the opposite wall under the large windows. Hermione followed.

“Where’s Harry? He left and… and I don’t remember much after that.”

Heather nodded grimly. “Professor Snape went after him… Hermione I need to tell you – I don’t know why I didn’t before – I should have told you guys but so much happened suddenly and I wasn’t sure how seriously to take it and – ”

Hermione gripped Heather’s shoulder, calming her. “What is it? Just tell me.”

Heather calmed herself with a slow breath out. “I thought it was Sirius Black going back to Voldemort tonight. But it’s really Peter Pettigrew that’s going back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Professor Trelawney – when we were getting the cloak – I bumped into her and she – ” Heather shook her head as Hermione’s eyebrow shot up. “No, I know. Professor Lupin also thought – ”

“Harry finished him, twice if you count his journal. He’s dead three times over. You heard Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black and Professor Lupin in the shack. Peter Pettigrew is a coward. He probably ran off to hid in the forbidden forest and Professor Dumbledore will do something about him if he needs to when we explain it all to him.”

“I suppose… I mean there isn’t anything to do now other than tell Professor Dumbledore everything so he can free Sirius and hopefully forgive Professor Lupin.” Heather knelt on the chair and stared out at the darkness below. The moon was well hidden now and nothing could be seen.

Heather and Hermione both jumped when the doors to the hospital wing flew open and Professor Snape sauntered in with an unconscious Harry floating on a stretcher. Heather ducked quickly behind a bed, not wanting to remind him of her existence. If there was a chance he’d forgotten she’d attacked him only a couple hours ago, then she’d gladly hide from him for the rest of the year until the start of next term. Hopefully summer holidays for adults and school events did the same as for students and learned topics.

“Take Mr. Potter here. He’ll need all the chocolate you have.” Professor Snape pushed the stretcher into Madam Pomfrey’s hands and turned on his heel, ready to leave.

“The dementors – why have they attacked the students? They’re not in the castle are they? Surely the Headmaster – ”

“I’m sure Miss Granger can explain to you enough so that you may imagine what has happened tonight. I, however, must speak to the Headmaster and the Minister before he departs.” Professor Snape’s eyes flashed with eager excitement as he walked out the doors, closing them shut with an echoing thump.

Heather wondered if it was only Harry that he found. She hoped it was, and that Sirius had somehow escaped to his hiding place once more. ‘We won’t need to go that far… All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be so pleased.’ Professor Snape’s words rang in her head turning his silky tone into a cruel grain.

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#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fan fiction

[poutyhannie]

Here is some fraking Han Jisung, my bias and muse. :)) 

warnings: angst, college student!han jisung, college au

word count: +2k

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Nervously, you open the door to your first summer class at the university you’d be attending in the fall.  Having been sheltered throughout your private school education, you really didn’t know what kind of people you’d meet at your university, being that it was home to over 40,000 students.  However, you were relatively mature and could hold your own.  All you needed to do act tough and above it all.  

Your walls have served you well from heart ache before.  

Not specifically on the field of romantic love, but of platonic love.  Your last ‘best’ friend had held your vulnerable heart in her hands and utterly mutilated it to the point where its scars and scabs formed a hard, impenetrable shell.  And you learned to like it that way.  Being in control of who you opened up to and knowing how to act so that others wouldn’t get close to you.  You never denied that it wasn’t lonely but at the same time, you’d rather be lonely and cry alone into your sheets than have a facade of companionship and cry onto the shoulder of someone who used you.  

You tuck these reminders into the back of your mind as you step into the lecture hall.  It could fit over three hundred students but because it was a summer class, there were about a third of that.  Still, your palms began to moisten at the chitter of so many people.  Studying their faces as you head to the empty front row, you conclude that most of them were just as wide-eyed as you.  Except, they sooth these nerves by guarding themselves with a plethora of friends.  

You’d researched your professor before enrolling in her course.  She was renowned in her field, having been one of the group who was tasked with translating an undecipherable ancient text a few years back.  Clapping her hands, her surprisingly booming voice silences the lecture hall, “Alright, class.  First day of summer courses.  Some of you are future freshmen here and some are continuing lower and upperclassmen…”

Listening intently, it’s all the more obvious when the door swings open and a wide-eyed boy hurries into the room.  Internally groaning, you realize you didn’t block the seats next to you with your bag.  Surely he wouldn’t choose the front row in a hall full of them.  You don’t make eye contact with him as he enters the room, quickly bows and mumbles an apology, and you especially don’t make eye contact when you feel the heat radiating off of him when he plops down right next to you.  Annoyed, you sigh, engrossing yourself in your notebook as the professor continues her lecture about Old English epic poetry with a forgiving smile at the boy’s direction.  

Though he smells like the scorching summer sun, when he leans over, a refreshing, warm scent fills your nose.  It reminds you of soft, wooly blankets, which, you tell yourself, would be horrible in this weather.  “Hey, what’d I miss?”  The boy whispers at you, his hushed voice irritatingly fanning over your cheek.  You finally glare at him and he still wears that dumb wide-eyed expression.  It falters a bit at your harsh gaze but he stretches his smile wider, tilting his head.  Your stomach squeezes again at the prospect of a new person and you quickly shove your notes at him to get him to stop talking to you.  Taking out his own notebook, which is yellow with patterned black bees, he nods, copying your notes.  When he’s done, he gives you a content, toothy smile and hands you it back.  

You chose not to notice it before, but his dyed blonde tips poke out from his black bucket hat and you wonder if he wore a hat because he didn’t shower.  His collarbones stick out from under his baby blue t-shirt and the little green bird emblem on his chest is almost as cute as the bees on his notebook.  He’s tucked in his shirt to his black, tech wear pants which are laced with silver chains.  Looking down, you can see he has chunky, black boots and wince at how sweaty his feet must be with those fluffy pink socks poking out of his boots.  Still, his lightly flushed face doesn’t show signs of perspiration.  By the time you look back up to his face, he’s intently taking in everything the professor is saying.  You follow suit.  

When students begin glancing, antsy at the clock, your Professor reminds the class that she has office hours.  Quickly and wordlessly, you shove your notebook into your backpack because that boy seems like he has a novel at the tip of his tongue.  With a groan, you realize the only exit is blocked by his chair and when you turn to face him, he smiles brightly, shoving out a hand.  “Name’s Jisung.  I guess we’re desk buddies now?”

Giving him a tight smile and firm shake, you reply courtly, “Yeah, I’m Y/n.  See you tomorrow.”

When you pass him, he still wants to say something.  “Do you wanna study together later?  It’d be easy to finish the homework before tomorrow then.”

You glance back at him, donning your best bored, accusatory, and patronizing look, “I don’t like studying with other people.  Thanks for the offer though.”  

Walking off with that cold combo, you expected to never hear from the baby blue boy again.  

Still, here he is in the library, leaning over your shoulder annoyingly to stare at your book.  With an amuse smile he whispers, “What question of the homework are you on?”

“23.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle, “You’re quite the reader, huh?”

You ignore his remark and ignore him when he plops onto the seat next to you.  Thankfully, he pulls out a well-worn copy of Beowulf rather than talking to you.  The next two hours continue in silence as you efficiently finish the ancient epic for the umpteenth time and complete the homework reflection questions.  You easily fill out all them, recycling your old views of the characters, symbolisms, and plot into your answers.  However, the last question in bold stops you short because of its moral aspect absent in the other, more literal questions.  

“Was Grendel justified for killing those in the mead hall?”

Obviously, any reader would side with the monster slaying Beowulf, but the way she phrased the question prompts you to think that maybe she wants a different answer.  After pausing for a moment, you begin your answer, something along the lines of empathizing with the annoyed monster who just really wanted the late night partying to end.  Chuckling to yourself, you realize how much in common you have with Grendel.  

Forgetting the boy’s presence, you relax, stretching out your arms.  He looks up at you from the book, his eyes droopy and glossed over. “You done, study buddy?” He asks around a yawn.

Though the nickname prickles your annoyance, you nod and begin packing up your bag.  “See you tomorrow.”  Is all you can manage to give his hopeful gaze.

He’s on time today, scurrying into the seat next to you.  Without a bucket hat, you see his blonde tips and black roots fully.  He seemed to have showered.  The boy wears a pastel pink shirt this time, chains still jingling infuriatingly at his hip.  “Hey, Y/n,” he greets.  You expect him to launch into a monologue—or more accurately, a soliloquy because you wouldn’t be listening—but instead, he leaves you at that and with his toothy, uneven grin.  

Your Professor’s voice interrupts his dangerous smile, “My last question which asked whether Grendel was justified or not was almost entirely responded with that he wasn’t.  I would disagree with that and I agree with Y/n.”

You feel his stare as you will your cheeks to stop flaming at the unsolicited eyes of your classmates.

“We always want to side with the ‘good’, with those who don’t kill that we’re so ready to don a mask of righteousness.  I believe Grendel was justified because the people in the mead hall needed to be good neighbors.”  She smiles, continuing, “if both sides had just shown kindness, compassion, and understanding, they’d all be alive.”

Your heart tweaks at her lecture, hitting too close to home for your guarded liking.  

Though you carry out the rest of your day busily, your mind is stuck on her words.    Guiltily, your mind wanders to the boy as you walk back to your dorm as the sky turns black.  You had already moved in, but your roommate was going to join you in the fall so it was empty.  Just how you liked it.  You fill your head with thoughts of your dorm, cleaning, and classes just so that you don’t have to think about his gummy smile, his fluffy socks, or his comfortable silence.  Maybe you had judged him too hard, even with your walls, you could have at least be civil.  What was his name, again?  He had given it to you on that first day…You try to drift off to sleep but the guilt in your heart still gnaws.  

There he is again, in the middle of the Uni courtyard in the middle of the day, laughing his ass off with two other boys.  Just as you force your gaze away, his meets yours, recognition spreading a smile over his face as he beckons you over.  Your shoulders drop in annoyance, but you quickly remember last night’s guilt, walking over to the laughing boys.  

He nudges you softly, “Y/n, I want you to meet my friends.  This is Bang Chan hyung,” gesturing to a black haired, charming older boy who gives you a dimpled smile and extends his hand.  “This is Seo Changbin hyung.”  A shorter, cold-looking boy gruffly nods at you and you like him immediately.  

Chan lifts his eyebrows at you, “We were just gonna go grab a bite, you hungry, Y/n?”

You begin to shake your head until you see the boy’s—Jisung’s, you remember now—excited eyes and how he’s bouncing on his combat boots.  “Sure,” you sigh in defeat, “I’ll go.”

You learn that Chan is a lot older and has an administrative job on campus, impressive for someone so young and that Changbin is studying to become musical producer.  Quite the weird mix of interests and people, but they seem to enjoy each other’s company so much, you assume there was history.  When you ask about it over fries and burgers, Jisung nods excitedly, “Yeah, I knew Channie hyung and Changbin hyung were both coming here so I reeeeally wanted to come here too.  I’ve enrolled for the fall but wanted to come sooner.”  Chan giggles at the younger boy’s excitement and gives Jisung more of his fries.  

Changbin shifts, looking at you with a calm, still gaze, “We’ve known each other since before Jisung was a teen,” he shrugs, returning to his food, “it seemed natural to continue college together.”

You feel a pang in your chest, looking quickly down.  You’d always say to your best friend that you’d both get into your dream college and graduate together.  Their unchanging friendship festers a longing in your heart that you’ve tried so damn hard to lock away.  Thankfully, they don’t notice your moment of weakness and begin conversing about Jisung and your summer course.

“Yeah,” Jisung reminisces, laughing, “when I first saw Y/n, I thought I’d shit my pants.  She gave me this glare when I sat down next to her.”

Changbin laughs, a bubbly giggle you’ve never head before, “Well you probably did something.”

Jisung’s eyes widen and he snaps his head towards you, a fry frozen on its ascent to his already stuffed mouth, his cheeks round.

“No, no,” you respond quickly, shaking your hands in front of you, gut dropping in guilt again, “A lot of people think I’m a bitch.  Its not Jisung’s fault.”

Chan giggles, nodding his head eagerly, “Yeah, I’m sure you really scared our precious little Sungie.”  Cries of protest and denies erupt from Jisung, who continues whining at his hyungs.  You choose not to notice but you watch them longingly, the ache in your heart for someone tearing a hole in your chest.

#han jisung #jisung #skz jisung #stray kids #stray kids jisung #skz #stray kids han #stray kids han jisung #jisung imagine #jisung angst #stray kids angst #stray kids imagine #han jisung imagine #han imagin #han imagine #han angst

[romeulusroy]

Inheritance (Shelby!Reader × Peaky Blinders Oneshot)

Character/s: Arthur, Thomas, John, Ada, Finn

Word Count: 1,393

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @death-of-a-mermaid @lotsoffandomrecs @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @theshelbyclan @captivatedbycillianmurphy @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87

A/N: I'm feeling insecure about writing and when I do, the only thing that helps is to write, even if it's god awful lol. I started with the first paragraph, just writing whatever, and it turned into this. I had plans for a completely different fandom/fic tonight, which I hope to post sometime this week. I'm sure this frustration will pass, it's just hard to get through. I feel like a mess with everything. I know its probably just the stress of school, and family, and August coming so soon. June lasted years, but July was gone in a second. Still trying to wind down from the panic I've gotten myself into. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Gif Credit: @eylins :)

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. / PART THREE.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

You want to believe you're different from them. That your words, your writing, your work is anymore extraordinary, that somehow the thoughts in your head have not been repeated through history, stamped from one cracked skull to the next. You want to believe your eyes have seen something more, something hidden, that the trees deeply rooted, there long before your birth, and around after you're gone, have not witnessed the same blue birds or soft, summer storms. You think, for an instance, that there us a separation in what makes you you and them them. That the loneliness in your gut, the screams and cries gurgling in your throat, that this pain layered beneath every cell in your body somehow draws a line between you and them. Making you human where they are not. Giving you feeling where they lack. You hoped, and prayed, by some miracle, that whatever it was that created you wasn't in anyone else. Foolish and young, too naive for your own good. Where they bled you bruised. Where you collapsed they stood like stone. You could stare down the same Devil and see two fraternal beings, both wearing a wicked smile.

The funny thing is, you were more like them than you could ever tell.

Passed down from generation to generation, kept warm and safe cupped into two hands. The anger. Dangerous, bloody, boiling. Pricking beneath your skin like bees, tinging, numbing the sharp things that tore through it. It made your gums bleed, hateful words like knives sling your mouth up through and through. A sickening, twisted laughter bubbling, bursting out of you before you have half a mind to stop it. It made you cold, invincible, scowling at the earth beneath your feet and the sky above, somewhere in the middle this god everyone turns to in their time of need. He never showed up for you, though, instead hiding. From you, and from Arthur. The fire in your veins, swollen by gasoline blood and matches for breakfast. Your big brother caught fire with the slightest annoyance. Cagey, unyielding, a force that tore through him until he let it all out. A corrosive being stripping him of skin and bone, making man into monster. You too had been subjected to stares and glares, deemed more weapon than person. A hazard, too dangerous to be around. One more thing you had to watch out for, the bitterness in that Shelby blood.

That anger seething, turning in on itself. Imploding. Not wanting to hurt others, you hurt yourself. Bit the bad end of a barrel, a bullet sitting on your tongue, the broken bits of a bottle. You liked the way you felt when the only thing standing between you and that dark abyss of an end was yourself. That sense of control, of power, came too few times. A high you tried took chase as much as you could in this big messed up world. Hold these standards of yourself on your shoulders only took be crushed beneath them. Falling into a pit of all the things you bottled up and kissed goodbye, setting each jar on the shelf with its own special label. Grief. Guilt. Greed. Building up walls around you, a tomb to crumble in, afraid to let the rest of the world there were feelings beneath your cold complexion. Tommy always had a way of locking things up and never letting them see the light of day. Learning from the best, you guessed. Let them see your pain, your weakness, and it would be used against you. Weaponized. You couldn't survive another loss.

Boarded up, an abandoned home needing someone to crawl in and make it their own. Tidy up the place, see the potential you had beneath those rotten floors and broken bricks, chipped paint and peeling wood. A want, a need, an ache to be wanted, to be loved and accepted. John never could stand on his own, never wanting to face a bed half empty. Tripping over himself, falling too easy for the next set of wandering eyes and slim legs. He loved like no one else. And you did, too. Unrequited. Given the slightest bit of acceptance, lead into another persons word by free drinks and shameless flirting. You wanted to find the one, your other half, the same way he had, once believing the only way he could ever feel whole was with someone by his side. There was someone out there for everyone, there had to be. You weren't sure how much longer you could live so alone. Part of you wanted to think it was a lie, something you'd grow out of eventually, but John never seemed to, and you'd followed that path too far to turn back.

One day, you hoped, despite the anger, the walls, someone would find you, and love you regardless. You hoped for a lot of things. For the rain to stop and the clouds to clear. For the fog of your thoughts to disappear. For this life to be a little easier for everyone. Forgiving, motherly, nurturing, it's sharp edges dulled. To one day find your way out of all this, start fresh, start new, the potential of a freshly healed scar. Your sister had a way of whispering things in your ear, feeding into these delusions. She too wanted something more from what she saw everyday. Lost in a dream world she crested for herself. Often it was the only thing that kept you going, kept you upright. Eyes burning, sobs choking, too fragile for this world, you wanted to crawl inside the one you made from scratch and never leave. Ada told stories, too young to tell the difference between reality and imagination, her spirits high, embedding itself within your bones. The Shelby's were nothing without their dreams, their drive, their want for a perfect world just out of reach.

Without dreams, there was only dread. Fear of the future, the past, the footsteps you'd one day have to follow because that's what was expected of you. Stand tall, gun in hand, vertebrae stacked atop one another. There was no looking down, no flinching. If you weren't the best you weren't anyone. Turn a blind eye to the bad, to the meek, step on anyone who ever got in your way. Placed on a pedestal with broken knees. The baby, the one you helped raise, from cradle to grave. Never seen a second war, thrust into the one your brothers brought home. You both were. The lurch in your belly at the thought of so much red on your hands, of grief being associated with your name. You couldn't bear the thought of taking another soul from this world. Finn jumped at the pop of a gun, cringing at the cries of others. They could get used to it. Desensitized to it. But the both of you? This was new, and scary, and you were sure the softness they'd lost too long ago still lived inside you. The guilt they forgot chewed you alive, haunting your dreams. They could do as they pleased, but you couldn't. You refused to be as destructive as the rest of your siblings.

As much as you wanted to keep your distance, make some definition between you and them, there was too much of them inside you. Their faces staring back at you in the mirror. The sorrow, the hurt, the hate, the ups and downs of a life like yours, like theirs, there was no escaping it. You could run, but you could never hide. Like a shadow, it clung to your soles, dragged across the cobblestone. Escape however you wanted, however you pleased, there was only one thing all of you had in common: no matter how much you tried, no matter how hard you talked yourself into denial, that Shelby blood was a particular kind poison only the worst would become accustomed to. Try as you might, the thoughts, the feelings, all of it would follow you. Stepping on your heels. Breaking down you'd doors. It would bleed when you did, and dream with you, and hide deep within the cage of your ribs when you were too ashamed to admit it. You were of them. Always had been, always would be, no matter how much you prayed you were different.

#writing #peaky blinders #peaky blinders drabble #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fic #x reader #x shelby reader #shelby reader #drabble #oneshot #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #ada shelby #finn shelby #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral #x gender neutral reader

[angelsunflowers-fanfics]

Handsome Jack A.I. x Female!reader (Reuniting with an old lover)

Request: Heya! Are you taking requests? I was wondering if you could please do the “Every time I see you, my heart skips a beat” prompt with AI Jack from TFTB? Like he’s in Rhys’s head back on the Hyperion base and he sees his old girlfriend and he wants to use Rhys’s body for a bit to go talk to her/see her again. First-person point of view from AI Jack’s perspective and she/her pronouns for the reader. Thank you so much, I love your writing!

Fandom: Tales from the borderlands

Pov: Jack’s

Genre: Fluff

Linktree

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Everything felt fuzzy, like an old TV blaring white noise from its speakers. My form, my AI form, was still tangible and solid. So it must be from Rhys knocking his head out so much. He was gonna get some serious brain trauma if he kept that up.

Why couldn’t I be stuck in somebody else’s head? Anyone? I’d even take Rhys’ weirdly beefed up friend. Just anyone beside this dork. At the start of our little adventure, I found out that he was obsessed with me. And I mean, who could blame him? All I needed to do was find that machine and get my body back. It was still a prototype but I was out of options at this point.

Helios… it didn’t look that different from when I last left it but… it still felt different. Why did it feel different? I could worry about that later, or never. I hadn’t decided yet. The walls were still yellow, just how I liked it. People were bustling and rushing to their next task like busy bees. The view was fine, from up here you wouldn’t be able to tell that Pandora was a planet full of psychos and murders. It actually looked pretty okay.

“We gotta get to the center of Helios…” Rhys mumbled to himself.

Ugh… I’d kill to be stuck in (y/n)’s head…

Shit, (y/n)... 

It had been a while since i’d thought of her. I wondered if she was still up here. For her safety, I hope she was.

I wondered how she was doing, We both lost Nisha and then a week later I was killed… I had no idea what toll that took on her. Luckily for her safety, I kept her identity and relationship to me and Nisha a secret. We all thought that was best… I hoped vault hunters didn’t find out about her. She was still young, she could find a future still. I wanted her to, even if I couldn’t because I was too power-hungry and blind to what was happening from my own hands.

I wanted to hold her in my arms, just one more time… To tell her that’s I was sorry and how much I loved h--

Oh my, god… it was her. (y/n) was in the library, why was she up so high just shelving books? I thought she was a technician for the weapons… What had happened since I’d been gone?

What had changed…? But (y/n); She looked the same like no time had passed. She looked beautiful but tired… I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around her…

God, I could feel my face heating up and my stomach was fluttering. I hadn’t felt this way about anybody else before in my life. It was a strange feeling.

It was kind of hypnotic just to watch her do something as mundane as putting books on shelves in a library. She could make anything look graceful.

“Jack, what are you doing?” Rhys startled me out of my thoughts. I jumped out of my skin as Rhys snoke up behind me. Crap, did he try to leave? I didn’t want to make (y/n) to well known but-- ”We kind of nee--” 

I turned to stand in front of him, staring him down. I needed to speak to her, hear her voice again.

“Let me use your body,” I demanded him. 

Rhys was unfazed by this point, he had been stuck with me for weeks, far too long in my opinion. At first, it was kind of interesting but he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts, as did I. I didn’t need him snooping around with me either. 

Rhys slowly opened his mouth to ask why, I was sure, but I cut him off, already having an explanation thought through, “I want to talk to my lovely girlfriend for a bit and she can’t exactly hear me in this form.” 

Rhys’ eyes creased in confusion, not too much of my personal life was ever leaked so I was sure that he had some questions that I didn’t have time for.

“I thought she--Nisha died… a while ago,” He murmured. 

I rolled my eyes at the comment but gestured to the noticeable form on the ladder in the library.

“Me, Nisha and (y/n) We’re a throuple or we used to be at least,” I explained. 

Rhys stared at me blankly, wait, was he judging me? No, that wasn’t happening! He was the last guys that should judge me about my personal life, I’d been rooting around his head for weeks, he had some weird stuff in there. 

“Don’t judge me! (y/n) kept us in line when we went too far off the rails… We were chaotic and she was soft and patient,” I snapped. 

God, I missed her. It didn’t feel like it had been long, but I was sure that it was for her. I couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for her, for my Honey-bunches.

Before Rhys could answer, not like he had many choices in the matter anyway, the large ladder began to topple and shake as a few employees brushed past it roughly. Oh no. As (y/n) started to fall from the high ladder, time slowed down. I had just enough time to take control over Rhys’ body and caught (y/n) in his noodle arms. Luckily, his arms didn’t give out because of my control. He’d pay for dropping (y/n), that was certain.

“Caught you again, Honey-bunches,” The mixing of my own voice with Rhys’ shocked her. 

She looked up at Rhys wildly. That was good, she clearly heard my voice. There might be a little hope just yet. She quickly climbed out of Rhys’ arms and crossed her arms over her chest. Even mad she looked like a goddess. How?

“Only one person knows about that and he’s--” She stopped talking… God, her voice was so pretty. I almost forgot about it. Between her and Nisha, I was always flustered. (y/n) didn’t even have to try. “It’s impossible, right?” She sounded hopeful, I needed to keep that up. I didn’t want to see her upset. How long had it even been to her? (y/n) looked as if she was about to cry, it had to be at least a year, right?

“Nakitiyama, or whatever the hell his name was, put an a.i. of me or meat-bag Jack into his I.D. drive… Guess that's why I'm here now,” I explained to (y/n). 

(y/n) wiped a few stray tears away from her face as she contemplated the situation clearly. Please believe me. I need you to. (Y/n) actually chuckled a bit at my choice of words. I always knew how to make her laugh.

“It's possible. I… Okay,” She trailed off. 

I could see tears brimming, about to fall and there's nothing I could do to comfort her physically. I made Rhys reach a hand out to grab one of hers, this was the best I could do right now. She was almost glaring at the floor. What was she thinking about? 

“Is… Is Nisha here too or…?” She asked.

I didn’t answer, it was too hard to think about. I was just grateful that (y/n) wasn’t killed while I wasn’t around. But by not answering, (y/n)’s eyes casted to me, a knowing look, like she already knew the answer to her own question. 

I gripped her hand a tad touch tighter before speaking, “Every time I see you, my heart skips a beat.” 

A sensation of pride swelled up in my chest seeing (y/n)’s face flare up with a blood rush because of my words. I was sure that it had been a long time for her… but for me? It felt like we were just talking about it… leaving Hyperion and starting a family. Shit…

“Jack-” She started to say before I felt my nerves being pushed and shoved around as Rhys took control again. 

I thought I would have more time. His body shuddered almost violently, stopping (y/n) from saying anything as she stared at Rhys conversing with me. His hold on her separated almost too violently for my liking.

“What the hell, Rhys? That wasn't nearly enough time,” I snarled to him.  

Rhys gained his bearings again. I guess I couldn’t take over his body for long periods of time anymore. Great. How was I supposed to-

“Is he gone?” (y/n) accidently interjected my thoughts.

Luckily, I didn’t have to tell Rhys to translate everything I wanted to tell (y/n), that would be a pain. Rhys retold the predicament that we were in with me being inside his head and all. She looked almost hurt. Man, this sucked. There was a machine in my office and last I remembered you could create an actual body with A.I.’s. It had to work. I turned to Rhys and began to relay my message to him so he could tell (y/n).

“There’s a machine in my office that I have, I haven’t had it tested but… It could work,” I said. 

(y/n) shifted awkwardly, she was uncomfortable. It was clear as day but there was nothing I could do to comfort her at the moment. Soon. I’d be able to. Soon enough. Rhys bit on his bottom lip, thinking over the situation. We needed to go into my office anyways for Gortys’ beacon. Hit two birds with one stone and all that, right?

“Okay, but how do we get there? I don’t have clearance for that,” Rhys told me. 

(y/n) watched Rhys with an unsteady gaze, I knew she was still uncertain about me but she hadn’t run off yet. There was a chance, I knew there was.

I smirked to myself lightly, the trap door. We could easily get through there. It was on the prison level if I wasn’t mistaken. Rhys was quick to notice my expression, He had caught onto me.

“I’m surprised that You being such a big --Obsessive-- fan of me didn't know about the trapdoor in my office…” Rhys didn’t say a word, not understanding what I was insinuating at. I rolled my eyes at his dumbass before gesturing in an upward direction. “We can go up the trapdoor, get into my office. Easy-Peazy.” 

Rhys ran a hand over his face like I was the one stressing him out. Unbelievable. Wow. I am a delight to be around and he could ask anybody. 

He was mumbling out loud to himself again, I’d think it was weird unless I knew that (y/n) did the exact same thing, which I did and she does. I glanced over to her, checking in on her. I knew all of this could be stressful to handle at once.

"I really don't want to risk my life by crawling up a trapdoor," Rhys told me. 

The small comment gained (y/n)'s attention in a heartbeat. She glanced at Rhys, eyes narrowing. A light-hearted laugh escaped her for the first time today.

"He, uh, Jack used to throw people down there when he got bored during meetings. It got messy," (y/n) explained to Rhys. 

(Y/n) pulled at the key card attached to her belt clip. It almost looked like the one I had… right? Man, so many things were still too fuzzy for me. Why? What the hell did Nakayama do? 

"--But I actually have access to his old office," (y/n) told Rhys, wiggiling the pass. 

Rhys took the incentive to follow (y/n) through the halls of Helios, leading us to my office. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to her form, she looked smaller than I remembered… I’d be able to hold her soon… I NEEDED to. I couldn’t go another minute without being to reach out and touch her.

My fists tensed tightly, I was so close to holding her. I looked to (y/n) and took over Rhys’ voice once more, to get a final sentence out before she’d actually be able to hear my own voice.

“This better work.”

#handsome jack #handsome jack ai #handsome jack x reader #handsome jack ai x reader #Borderlands x reader #Borderlands #tales from the borderlands #tales from the borderlands x reader

[haknew]

get to know me tag ! 

tagged by @woosohn​ (ty again june ! <3) 

what day is your birthday?

one day i’m sure 

what’s your favorite color?

not to be that person,,, but rose quartz, serenity, and lilac ! [official answer] 

what’s your lucky number?

idk... tea bee hache 

do you have any pets?

do house plants count ? ;// 

how tall are you?

5′ 4 (i always forget this in cm sorry)

how many pairs of shoes do you own?

currently ... ? like 3 ??? 

favorite song?

oh i never have just one and it’s really about my mood :0 been playing thrill-ing a lot and other current releases so probably those at this moment in time

favorite movie?

can’t seem to pull up anything up from the dredges of my repressed memories of the time i used to watch movies but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... idk  

what would be your ideal partner?

i did this on my other blog so i’ll try to give a real answer this time to this question ... mm i need someone with a lot of empathy and patience ! i’m definitely not the easiest person to deal with ever and i really hate being confrontational,,, so when there’s a problem, they have to be willing to talk through things with me and approach me first ;;;; think it’d be nice if they were strong in the points where i’m weaker ^^ to balance i suppose ... but who knows what’ll happen, funky question lol

do you want children?

lmao no

have you gotten in trouble with the law?

nooooo i’m boring that way <33

bath or shower?

shower ! 

what color socks are you wearing?

it’s summer so no sock season ~ but normally solid colors; gray, white, black ^^

favorite type of music?

i like a bunch of stuff but i’m a pop song person at heart :]] sometimes some r&b 

how many pillows do you sleep with?

always at least two ! but rn at home i have 6 pillows haha 

what position do you sleep in?

on my sides usually ;0 hugging a pillow sometimes 

what you don’t like when you’re sleeping?

if it’s too hot, i can’t sleep ;;;; or when it’s too loud or too early in the morning to be woken up looool

what do you have for breakfast?

i’m never awake early enough for breakfast but during my 8ams i used to make a cup of instant coffee if that counts haha :]] 

have you ever tried archery?

at science camp yeeeees ~

favorite fruit?

strawberries ! and watermelon ~~ mangoes too :p 

favorite swear word?

i don’t really swear all that much so don’t really use any  

do you have any scars?

i suppose, won’t elaborate tho 

are you a good liar?

i’ve been told no i’m not but then again i lie often so 

what’s your personality type?

choi soobin (he’s an isfp OKAY ?!?!)

what’s your favorite type of girl?

all of them of course u.u 

innie or outie?

innie !

left or right-handed?

right-handed ^^

favorite food?

i really like pasta ! but there’s a canto tea cafe specialty rice dish that’s basically fried rice with tomato + beef that’s my all-time fav ^^

favorite foreign food?

hmm most everything i have is ‘foreign’ food ? that’s just my cultural cuisine stuff tho so maybe other eastern asian dishes too :0 

are you clean or messy?

really depends on my mood ;;;; i like stuff to be clean ! but that’s easier said than done sometimes haha 

most used phrase?

i use a lot of internet language so your typical acronyms ‘lol’, ‘lmao’, ‘like’, and then stuff like ‘so true’ etc. haha ahhh and of course ‘jfkdhgdkjfhgsk’

how long does it take for you to get ready?

this also depends on my mood, at speediest maybe 5 mins ! at longest maybe an hour ~ but only bc i’m staring at my phone or smth instead of actually getting ready

do you talk to yourself?

hhh yes and that’s bc it’s sometimes easier for me to vocalize thoughts than let them swirl in a confusing mess in my head, hard to sort through sometimes

do you sing to yourself?

yea ! choir kid things

are you a good singer?

hmm depends on ? your definition ... i have a good ear for pitch matching but that’s probably it ^^ (i have a small little byr cover on this blog too prob not that hard to find if people were curious but ://)

biggest fear?

[insert a long essay about ew gross feelings and insecurities no one asked for] idk bugs ?!? ig 

are you a gossip?

depends on context ! i like being in the know but at the same time i don’t go out of my way looking for drama or any tea ;-; i keep to myself mostly ! 

do you like long or short hair?

on me, longer hair ! kinda a silly / unrelated remark but my old roomie said she thinks i would look nice with really long hair so i stopped trimming it even tho it’s summer ^^ 

favorite school subject?

haha probably bio and psych ! as i should certainly hope so as a bio major >.< 

extrovert or introvert?

introvert !

what makes you nervous?

oh quite a few things hhh, social interactions do ;;;; i like talking to people but i tend to overthink just about everything so,,, i can easily misread neutral stimuli as negative haha... and going out and about now that the panoramendmic has crushed any and all my social skills / self confidence LOL 

who was your first real crush?

haha he was in my honors english course and i think he and i argued about whether puppies are capable of real emotions jfksfjglds and during PE he’d run all the way across the gym to get our volleyball if we hit it out of the court ;;;; i ended up confessing the following year but uh .... things didn’t end well and it ended up following me all 4 years of high school lmao... 

how many piercings do you have?

just the two ^^ 

how fast can you run?

at my peak i could run a mile in 8 minutes fdkjhgdfjg but nowadays running to my mailbox is difficult wtf.... listen i’ve been sitting stuck at home for almost two years now-

what color is your hair?

it’s a dark brown so dark it’s almost black around my roots but a lighter brown for the rest bc i dyed it ^^ i plan to redye it a reddish brown soon tho ! 

what color are your eyes?

dark brown as well ~ 

what makes you angry?

something jacob mentioned once i forget his exact wording but i have a lot of patience actually so rather than being angry it’s a bit more frustration, mostly at myself when smth i worked on really hard doesn’t work out, but also bc i constantly overthink and consider other people’s feelings it upsets me when other people are dismissive or plainly ignorant of the feelings of those around them... and also esp when people are unaware of how to deal with their own negative feelings so they take it out on others when they shouldn’t 

do you like your own name?

not ? particularly ... tbh jess is not my full name but even so my name doesn’t really have any meaning of anything so it’s just :// a name i guess,,, i like it when people call me by name tho in the tags <333 lmao 

do you want a boy or a girl as a child?

lmao no

what are your strengths?

this would never fly in a resume but ??? oh man wish i knew 

what are your weaknesses?

the questions is what ISN’T 

what’s the color of your bedspread?

white with blue ink drawings <333 it’s very pretty i like it a lot 

color(s) of your room?

dark biege ! a lot of warm neutral tones with splashes of pastels here and there

tagging anyone who wants to do this again haha ^~^ 

#thank you so so much again june ! this was a lot of fun ^^ #errr well i couldn't sleep anyway bc tbz has me running on kst when really #it's almost 4am here #but ! ty again for the tag feel free to read none of this <3 #didn't wanna leave it sitting in my drafts so i went ahead :]] #jess.text #tag games #not tbz #✨.moots #sorry for the personal posts btw i will go queue tbz things now lmao

[ikuyeah]

The Dawn Breaks

Summary: With miles and miles on the road to his repentance left to go, William Vangeance finds comfort in the familiar dark magic enveloping a figure clad in gold. The one that he’d let slip away. His Golden Dawn. 

(Part One of the Attract Light series)

A/N: I binged Black Clover after it appeared on my Netflix feed and I have many William Vangeance feelings. So here I am. Writing fic. Anyways, by the time I post this I'll have read the rest of the manga chapters but keep in mind that I wrote this before reading it. Hope y’all enjoy my first foray into Black Clover.

Yami’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, catching sight of familiar violet irises filled with mirth. Shifting, he felt the blanket that definitely wasn’t there before sliding down his broad frame. He suppressed a sigh of relief. It looked like Vangeance would be fine.

Ever since the Golden Dawn Captain had the soul of the elf removed from his body, he’d been bathed in dark guilt and remorse for everything he’d failed to do from protecting the citizens to believing in their respected Wizard King.  

Despite his rough demeanor, he had really meant it when he said Vangeance was someone he considered closer than a mere comrade. That aside, he was also important to her which motivated him to break free from his drunken haze for a moment.

“I’m not sure if he let you know but after the meeting the Wizard King said we need everyone with great magic power to join this fight…” He murmured, almost doubting Vangeance had heard him but the other man turned his head before he could reach the door.

“I see, so she is to return.” His eyes which were mirthful turned dark with uncertainty. “How soon?”

Yami nearly grinned. It seems that even after being outed for housing an angry elf, some things about him would never change. Neither his kindness nor his feelings seem to have waned after all. “What’s with that look in your eyes, Captain Shiny? I thought your bond of friendship was stronger than that.” He didn’t hold back his grin this time, raising a brow when Vangeance’s own lips quirked into a smile.

“Indeed. But that’s beside the point now, Yami. After all…” Vangeance turned back, walking out the door. “Friendship is a stepping stone to the greater bond I will be pursuing with Sukehiro Aki.”

-

Eight Years Prior...

William watched from his perch on his World Tree as the Magic Knights started mobilizing. He’d been on patrol when the fighting broke out. The small gang of magic users were strong and their leader could conceal their magic well. While he scanned for the routes he’d have taken, he spotted a knight sprinting for what seemed like no reason until he caught sight of the brightly glowing outline in front of her. 

“My Moon Glow makes it so anyone I touch has their mana drained!” She cheered, the glowing outline fading out until the once invisible gang leader was exposed. 

William responded quickly, causing the roots of the tree to grow and block him.

Taking advantage of this, the girl aimed a swift kick at the criminal’s side, her leg engulfed in dark magic.

William’s eyes widened a little in realization. He’d heard that they had a new recruit who had the same magic as Sukehiro Yami but now that he could see her the resemblance was uncanny. 

The girl looked up and waved to him with a bright smile. “Thanks for the save! I think I’ve heard of you before from Yami. You’re Vangeance, right?” She called out.

William jumped down from the tree branch with ease, making sure the criminal was apprehended with the tree’s roots. “Indeed, pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m afraid I have not had the pleasure of knowing your name.” He held out a hand to her.

“Oh! I’m a new recruit. My name’s Sukehiro Aki. Though, you probably already had the Sukehiro part figured out.” Shaking his hand enthusiastically.

“The resemblance is astounding.” He digressed. “In both appearance and magic, it seems.”

Aki blinked at him and sighed. “Yeah, but I’m grateful to the Captain. It seems he knows that my talent lies more in reconnaissance than my brother. You’ve met him. His power is much too explosive to deal with anything requiring tact.” She mused.

William found himself with his shoulders rising, a laugh almost bubbling out of him. “The Captain knows not to judge people by their familial ties… or their upbringing.” He agreed.

The subtle change in his tone caught her notice and Aki seemed to stare at him for a while. “Your magic is incredible, Mister Vangeance.” She nodded to the tree behind him. William glanced back at the foliage, by the time his eyes met hers again, her expression softened considerably. “And remarkably, I think your character is even more incredible. So, I look forward to working with you in the future.”

William took a moment to let her words sink in before responding, returning her budding respect with a hopeful smile. “Likewise, Miss Sukehiro. Just Vangeance is fine.”

“Hah, well then just Aki is fine.” She retorted, stopping him before he could say that was hardly the same. “Would be kind of awkward if Yami and I were in the same room. And speaking of names, Vengeance is really satisfying to say so I hope you don’t mind me saying it often. Vengeance, it’s got an impact to it!” She said excitedly. 

William’s shoulders rose again in an aborted chuckle. He considered declining calling her by her given name but decided it wouldn’t hurt to honor her request. “Very well, Aki.”

-

William sat at his desk in his room, breathing deeply as he stared out at the trees lining the Golden Dawn’s estate. He hasn’t been able to calm his heart since Yami had told him Aki was returning. His feelings for her had been buried under many worries and beneath his guilt for his many recent transgressions. But, in spite of the years they’d spent apart, the flame of his admiration never flickered for a moment.

He remembered vividly the sound of her laughter and the warmth of her hand the few times they’d high fived and even the one time they shook hands. He remembered the brightness of her smile even after it dulled, even after the toll of dark magic weighed her down and stole the smile from her radiant face. He remembered the oddest things she’d talk about like how it was that butterflies slept and how queen bees were born. He remembered her idle musings about what it would be like if all the Kingdoms were united as one nation as well as her musings about the merits of different kinds of cheese in mac n cheese.  

And he’d missed it all so much.

Opening one of his drawers, he smoothed out the folded and unfolded piece of parchment, his name written across the top in hurried letters.

Will, 

I fear I’m no longer in control of myself, my friend. I’m ashamed to write this, to let you know my weakness. But you are my best and closest friend and so I can’t leave without letting you know the reason. I think you already knew that it would happen, but the extent to which my faith has been devoured by this magic is great and so I’m leaving to find a way to restore it. It’s funny, that I’ve misplaced my faith. Bet you’re relieved you didn’t have someone as messy as me in your Squad huh?

You’d probably say no, because you’re kind. I hope that one day when I return I can greet the kind person who’s looked after me all these years with a kind face and strong faith. I hope I can be someone who stands beside you to marvel at it, at your Golden Dawn.

For now, that’s reason enough for me to find it. My lost faith. I hope it returns to me soon so that I may return to you soon, my friend.

Aki 

“We are, the both of us, quite a pair.” He said softly. “To think that I’d lose my faith as you’d lost yours. Maybe your return… would return it to me. Your faith in yourself and my faith in myself.”

A knock on his door startled him out of his reverie and he gently placed the parchment in its previous place, pushing his drawer closed as he called for them to enter.

“Captain Vangeance, we have the gate keeper’s report like you requested and there’s no Sukehiro who entered the Capital today.” The two Golden Dawn members bowed. “We apologize.”

“It’s no trouble. Thank you for indulging my request.” He nodded gratefully.

“We’ll check again tomorrow, Captain Vangeance!” They bowed again and then promptly left.

William watched them go, amused. “Everyone around me is very kind.”

‘It’s because you’re kind.’ Her voice whispered in the back of his mind, resounding in his heart.

“No matter what it was you thought you were,” He murmured, fingers intertwining like the beginning of a prayer. “You were always just as kind… Aki.”

-

Six Years Prior...

“Vangeance!” 

William turned, smiling as the dark haired girl approached him. “Aki, you look well.” He greeted. 

As she passed, several nobles in Grey Deer uniform sneered at her. “That peasant, just because she’s friends with Vangeance and the sister of that monster the Captain picked up she thinks she’s all that.” One of them huffed.

“If Vangeance had a brain in that mask of his, he’d know to stay far away from her. She probably has dark blood in her veins too. A peasant and a monster.” The other said, egging on his companion as he spat in Aki’s direction.

Aki dodged the spitball and stopped in front of him, a hand raised. “I wasn’t sure what kind of greeting you’d prefer. So, high five I guess!” She laughed nervously.

Watching their fellow knights out of the corner of his eye, William regarded his friend in a low but resonant tone. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, my friend.” He said, lightly tapping his palm against hers. “After all we’ve been working together for this long. How is Tsukuyomi’s Moon Bow progressing?” He asked, genuinely interested in her spell’s growth.

“You were right about me not extending my magical awareness enough.” She said with a sigh. “Looks like Moon Magic really does draw strength from the moon. I think I’ll be able to do an area attack soon. I’m close to a breakthrough after mastering control of the Moon Bow.” She said, practically vibrating with excitement.

William raised a brow at her. “An area attack?”

“I’m going to gather the shadows and use it to redirect the mana somewhere else, maybe make it explode. It’s going to turn everything quite bright and I’m not used to so much light concentration yet, but I think I’ll call it Akatsuki or something of the like. That means Dawn where Yami and I come from.” Aki explained.

“I see. I have no doubt your mana can support the attack, but will you be alright?” He asked. Aki had always been more like him than Yami in that way. Though she trained with all her might to build her strength, she had a frailer body. It took a lot of her concentration just to control her dark magic.

Aki grinned, raising her arm up and flexing it. “I got my first arm muscle! So don’t worry about it, Vengeance. Leave it to me! I’ll sneak in, make them explode, and then sneak out!” She said with complete determination.

William only nodded. Aki had a lot of mana, it was why she was able to keep up in spite of her smaller form. However, William couldn’t help but worry for his friend. It seemed the darkness was looming larger over her with each mission. He wasn’t sure how long it would take until it overwhelmed her.

“I think it’s about time we dismissed the pleasantries, Aki.”

Aki looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

William looked back at her, hoping that by tying his friend to his own fate he’ll be able to save her from the pain. Yes, this was only so she could be safe.

“We are friends aren’t we? Call me William.”

Aki’s eyes widened, in awe of both his trust and his thoughtfulness. It had plagued her from time to time whether or not he found her bothersome. The sentiment brought tears to her eyes. “Man, I’ll miss saying Vangeance. But maybe…” She tipped her chin down, wiping at her eyes discreetly. “Will… has a pretty nice ring to it too.”

The darkness flickered out for a moment, surprising William.

The older knight clenched his fists at the motion, his resolve hardening. ‘I’ll do what I can to save you, my friend.’ He thought. 

When Aki looked up at him again, she was greeted with a warm smile. “Well, why don’t we enact your genius plan, then? I’m interested in seeing this Dawn attack you’ve come up with.”

-

Asta burst out the door to his room with a yell that he’d work hard again that day. “Time to do the chores-” 

The young Magic Knight gaped, realising that all the chores were complete. They had even fed the magical creatures. “All the chores are done?!” He screamed.

A dark haired girl poked her head around one of the corners, bowl of food in hand. “Ah, you must be Asta. Yami’s probably been working you to the bone so I figured I’d give you a break. We can do the chores together tomorrow.” She shrugged, beckoning him into the kitchen. “Come on, I made breakfast. You can just exercise twice as much later.” She insisted.

“Oh, thank you. Wait- Who are you?!” Asta pointed at the girl, eyes drawn to the black cloak over her yellow turtleneck. “You’re a fellow Black Bull member?” He asked, sitting down at the dining table.

The girl placed a bowl of rice with meat layered on top of it in front of him. “Oops, I guess Yami never bothered to tell you. I’m Sukehiro Aki, nice to meet you!” She patted him lightly on the head and walked away to wash the pan and other kitchenware she used to cook.

“Sukehiro…” Asta murmured, munching on the meal. In a corner of his mind, a memory rose. Didn’t the Captain once mention to him that he knew what it was like to be far from siblings? He remembered, because he’d gone as far as to ask the Wizard King about it but he’d said to ask Captain Vangeance. The rest of the Black Bulls said that they were away, training. But that meant that this girl...

“Yami’s my older brother.” 

Asta nearly choked on his rice. “You’re Captain Yami’s younger sister?!” 

“Wow, you sure love to repeat what’s said. Then again, there are weirder quirks.” Aki laughed softly, bubbles flying into the air.

“Sorry, I really had no idea. Do you have Dark Magic too?” He asked, considerably calmer now. He couldn’t explain it himself, she seemed to have a very calming aura.

Aki’s grimoire floated up, the book pure white with a giant moon etching in the middle surrounded by clouds in the same style as Yami’s. In the middle of the moon was a three-leaf clover. “Sort of. I can manipulate and create dark energy. I’m also quite blessed by the moon. It’s hard to explain. But yes, it’s a form of Dark Magic.” She shrugged and then promptly disappeared, appearing again in the form of Asta’s shadow before getting back to cleaning up.

“My abilities are more suited to reconnaissance so my attacks depend heavily on stealth and precision.” She admitted. 

“Wow, I didn’t sense your Ki at all!” Asta beamed at her, in awe of her magic ability. “I think you’re the most normal Black Bull I’ve ever met.”

Aki’s eyes flashed and she leveled an intimidating stare at Asta, making him shudder lightly. “You should be more careful, Asta.”

“Y-Yes, Aki-Senpai!” He saluted instinctively.

Aki’s eyes softened and she laughed loudly. “You should have seen your face.” She teased.

“Don’t be fooled, kid. This little menace can cause quite a stir. Understandable, since she’s a 2nd Class Intermediate Wizard.” Yami strolled in, ruffling her hair.

“Ew, if you’ve just left the bathroom please keep your hands off me.” She laughed, shoving him away from her.

“Huh? Did you get even stronger while you were gone? Did you become too big for your brother’s love now? You little shit, let’s fight right here and now.” He teased.

“You know that’s way dangerous and stop giving Henry a hard time fixing the base.” Aki smacked playfully at her brother’s buffed up arm, frustrated when her hits just bounced off of him harmlessly. 

Asta stared at them, eyes shining in interest. “I wonder what a fight between two Dark Magic users would be like. Wouldn’t they cancel each other out?” 

Yami puffed smoke out of his mouth, considering his options. “Hey Aki.”

The younger Sukehiro looked up at him. “Yeah? Captain Nii-san?” She asked.

“Have you gone to see the magic-obsessed Wizard King yet?” 

Aki shook her head, staring at her brother. Sometimes she couldn’t exactly pinpoint if he was being lazy or being tactical but this seemed like something he’d planned. “I’m going after I finish with these plates.” She answered, waiting for his next move. 

“You’re going to see the Wizard King? Can I come?” Asta asked, eyes getting even bigger at the mention of the man.

‘Ah, but why go through the trouble, Nii-san?’ She wondered. “Of course. But you better be ready to go.” She shrugged, still trying to decipher why it was that Yami was trying to send her to the Capital.

“Yes, Ma’am! I’ll get Finral-Senpai!” He responded, speeding away. Soon after, the sound of Finral yelling ‘She’s here?’ resounded in the halls. 

“What are you trying to do?” Aki asked, scrubbing at the plates while Yami had his own bowl of katsu. 

Yami grinned, sending a light gust of dark energy her way to ruffle her hair again. “Nothing much. Just making sure Clover Kingdom knows they have their beloved Golden Girl back.”

-

Five Years Prior...

William stepped out of the castle and was greeted cheerfully by a familiar dark haired girl clad in gold and black.

“Vangeance! Uh, I mean Will!” She called out, coming to a halt in front of him. “I heard you and Nii-san were called in by Captain Julius! But I guess it’s Wizard King now, huh? What was it for? Are you going to be Captain of the Grey Deer or is it Yami? Or are you going to be co-Captains? I hope it’s not just Yami, he’s a mess.” She rambled, stopping when William raised a hand in front of her.

“My apologies for cutting you off.” He bowed lightly. “We’re going to be Captains of two new Squads.”

“Two new-” Aki gaped. “I see. Somehow, it seems like something strategically beneficial that only Julius-sama would do.” She nodded.

“In that vein, I’ll be heading the Golden Dawn. And I want you to be my Vice Captain.” William said, his eyes searching hers.

“You want-” Aki raised a hand to cover her mouth after letting out an audible gasp. “I-I can’t be your- Will, no one will respect you if you do that, I’m only an Intermediate Wizard a-and I’m a foreign peasant-”

“I hold you in great respect, Aki. I trust you and you are my friend. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I didn’t believe you were qualified.” William retorted, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He couldn’t understand if it was rage at whoever made her believe she wasn’t qualified enough or anxiety at her answer. “So please, consider this offer for as long as you have to-”

“I’m sorry, Will.” She cut in, shocking both him and herself. “I respect you too. I do. And I respect your dream. Which is why I can’t be your Vice Captain.”

“Aki-”

Aki’s grey eyes were full of unshed tears as they met his. “Someone like me… can’t stand next to someone like you.”

William extended a hand to stop her but she’d already disappeared, traveling away from him in the shadows. 

“Ah, Vangeance. I apologize. I probably shouldn’t have been here for that.”

William willed away the overwhelming sadness in his heart as he turned to face Yami. “I apologize. The fault is mine for inciting her in public.” 

“Still, I am sorry. That troublesome sister of mine, she respects you but she really didn’t have faith in your friendship just now did she?” He groaned, wanting nothing more than to have a drink already to celebrate his becoming a Captain. He didn’t want to be here dealing with his kid sister and her feelings. “And don’t you say it was your fault for not giving her a reason to have faith in you.”

Idly, he thought that the way he spoke was a lot like Aki. The thought felt like a stab to his side. “Yami, I appreciate your attempt to console me. However, I am quite fine-”

“Shut up, will you? I’m trying to say…” Yami patted his shoulder, making it a point not to look him in the eye. “Thank you for being her friend, Vangeance.”

William was quiet for a moment before speaking. 

“I trust you’ll care for her from here on, as her Captain.” He said, gliding out of reach and then out of sight.

-

In a flash, Finral’s magic transported them to the Capital.

“Here we are. It really is great to see you again, Aki-san.” Finral smiled, genuinely elated that another member of the Black Bulls had returned.

“Thanks Finral. Sorry if Captain Nii-chan has been using you as an instant bathroom button this whole time. You’ve gotten pretty powerful since last I’ve seen you.” Aki complimented, proud that he’s been trying to curb his womanizing behavior at long last.

Waving goodbye to the Spacial Mage, Aki and Asta made their way to the Wizard King’s office. The door swung open and Aki came face to face with a much shorter and younger boy.

“Julius-sama… Did you lose weight or something?” She asked, looking down at the kid.

“How does this look like losing weight to you, Aki-Senpai?” Asta asked.

Aki ignored his retort, continuing with her report on the last dungeon she traversed. It was underground with many water passages. She’d learned a lot about navigating in a place where there was no moon to draw power from, forcing her to make use of the abundance of darkness and shadow around her.

Julius only laughed and nodded as she told him of her escapades, glad to see his old friend. “You seem more settled, Aki. It was right of Mereonleona to send you to those dungeons.” He complimented.

“They were a nightmare.” Aki froze at the memory of them. “But somehow, I’m alive and my magic has settled considerably so she’s right yet again, I suppose.” 

“Was your magic not very stable before, Senpai?” Asta tilted his head quizzically. 

“Something like that.” Aki shrugged, patting him on the head. “I’m guessing I have to check in with Owen?” She asked, turning to Julius.

“If you would.” Julius gestured for her to leave, his own squad of knights escorting her out.

“See you in a bit, Asta.” She called out, slipping through the portal and out of sight.

Asta lingered, his eyes meeting Julius’. 

“Were you able to learn about Yami’s mysterious sister? I’d imagine it was a shock to meet her after you asked so arduously after her.” Julius smiled as though amused.

“I never got to ask Captain Vangeance like you told me to because of the whole… elf situation.” Asta rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “But the older Squad members mentioned she was always away on extended training.”

Julius nodded. “I guess you are wondering what it was about Sukehiro Aki’s magic that caused her to go on such a long training period.” Julius guessed. 

“You don’t have to tell me. I can ask Aki-Senpai.” Asta blustered, undeniably curious but wanting to respect his elder.

Julius shrugged. “Yami and Aki don’t think it’s worth talking about. They will likely pass it off as nothing.” He placed a hand against his cheek thoughtfully. “If it’s insight on your senior, I’d say that her magic is something that could easily overcome her because of her form.”

“Her form?” Asta ran a hand through his hair, his brain was really getting a workout today. “Like when I use the devil’s power and my body hurts after? Something like that? Aki-Senpai is much smaller than the Captain and he trains a lot to use Dark Magic. Is she less able to control it because she can’t… develop muscle?” He asked.

Julius clapped his hands. “That’s exactly right, Asta-kun.” He said gleefully, proud that Asta could deduce that on his own. “But aside from that, she was very mentally weak as well. Sad to say, not everyone can handle the pressures of being different like yourself and Yami.” His voice softened and Asta could almost see the hurt in his own eyes, like he was recalling Aki’s painful memories.

“But you said Aki-Senpai is better now. Does that mean she’s feeling better? Mentally?” Asta asked but before Julius could answer he shook his head. “Nevermind that, if she’s not feeling well, we’ll help her feel better because she’s a Black Bull.” He half-yelled. 

Asta realised he’d gotten worked up again and bowed. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be more considerate as the future Wizard King.”

“You really have guts Asta, saying that to the Wizard King.” Aki said with a laugh, entering the room. “No matter how child-like he looks now, Julius can be pretty smart and powerful. It’s going to take a lot of work to be the Wizard King.”

Julius let out a low laugh at her jibe. “Child-like…”

“Aki-Senpai. I’m counting on you to help me become Wizard King one day!” He reiterated, bowing to Aki this time.

“Alright, alright. Get up.” Aki bowed to Julius and grabbed hold of her junior. “I’ll see you for tea sometime?” She asked with a bright smile Julius hadn’t seen since her rookie years.

Julius nodded. “I’m looking forward to it, Aki.”

-

Five Years Prior...

“Captain Vangeance, we’re back with the details about the fight that broke out involving the Freese Family. It appears that several of our knights were injured in the crossfire. Lord Freese was fatally injured upon the arrival of the Black Bulls but his daughter was brought safely home by their Spacial Mage.” Alecdora summarized blathely. 

William forced his hands to relax against his writing desk, letting go of the pen he’d been gripping fearfully to prevent his hands from trembling. “I see, I will see to it that I personally apologise for our mishandling of the situation. Perhaps we can provide aid for the young lady.” He forced himself to think on how they could serve the girl, the clear victim of the crime, before moving his focus to Yami’s squad. “And the Black Bulls?”

“There were no casualties on their end.” Alecdora seemed hesitant to continue but cleared his throat nonetheless. “However, the nobles have called a trial at the Magic Parliament against Sukehiro Aki.”

William’s breath hitched. “On what grounds?” He responded, a little quicker, a little more defensive than was typical of him.

Alecdora didn’t seem to notice, still dutiful in providing information. “She used a frightening Dark Magic technique against the opposition which drove them insane even after they were apprehended. She herself was almost unable to stop her own magic. They’ve come to the conclusion that she is to stand trial.” 

“I see.” William’s mind worked through scenario after scenario, thinking about what the nobles would punish her with. “Damnatio will be adamant on a life sentence at the very least for failing to save Lord Freese and execution for the use of magic unbefitting a knight of the kingdom.” He threaded his fingers together and placed them on his lap under the table, he couldn’t stop shaking. In the back of his mind, he felt Patri’s influence growing stronger, his own hatred of the situation amplifying it. 

Pushing his chair back, he stood up and started walking. “I will ask the Wizard King for advice on this matter. Please see to it that we address any needs the Freese family have.”

“Yes, Captain.”

With a wave, Alecdora was dismissed and William made haste. Traveling to the Wizard King’s office even by broom though quick felt like an age to William. The festering anger and helplessness burned in him, amplified by Patri’s own sentiments. 

By the time he reached his office, Julius couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards him. William, who was an enigma to everyone, was obviously distraught in Julius’ eyes.

“I see you have caught wind of this trial Damnatio is holding.” He began, forgoing the formalities. 

“I have faith that you have something planned.” William felt himself slowly relaxing, the reassuring calmness in Julius’ eyes helping him grasp his own sense of calm. 

“It’s troubling. I’ve only been Wizard King for a short time. The decision to make Yami the Captain of the Black Bulls and them being so unconventional hasn’t reflected well with the nobility. It will be a long fight if we do it head on.” The older man’s expression dropped in what seemed like deep sadness. “They can’t afford to let a single one of their members lose control.”

“What does that mean for the trial?” William asked, not quite understanding where this was leading.

“There will be no trial.” Julius clarified, sliding an envelope across the table towards him.

William picked the envelope up, recognising Aki’s messy scrawl on the back. To Will.

“I’ve made a concession with Damnatio. Aki is to spend time away from the Capital and prove to the Magic Parliament that she can control her magic. She will be returning in intervals to be checked by Owen and their own Healers and researchers to make certain she’s recovered.” He explained. 

“Aki has always had impeccable control over herself. She would never have endangered anyone, not even with provocation.” William stared at his name on the back of the pure white envelope in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t think of another way.” Julius bowed slightly and William’s eyes finally snapped away from the letter to protest. “I assure you that she will return, I will see to it.”

William bowed, lower than he’s ever bowed to anyone in his life perhaps. “I trust your judgement in this and I apologise for implying I had doubted you.” He said earnestly, sliding the letter delicately into the inside pocket of his uniform. 

“I don’t mind it.” Julius let out a mild chuckle. “After all, love is quite the troublemaker. To think it made you fall to your knees.” 

William was suddenly very grateful for the mask even though it looked like Julius knew even with it on that he was blushing. “Contrary to popular belief, I am entirely human with feelings of my own.”

“I never doubted it. Though the situation is unfortunate, I’m happy for you.” Julius nodded. “When the time comes, seize your chance at happiness. If not for yourself or for Aki, then for me.”

With Patri’s anger simmering in the back of his mind, William doubted he’d have his chance at a life with Aki even if he wanted to. But nevertheless…

“I will. I swear it.”

-

Alecdora burst through the doors of his Captain’s office. “I apologise for not requesting entry, Captain. But Sukehiro…” He breathed in deeply, doubling over from his effort to rush back to the Golden Dawn’s headquarters.

“Settle down and tell me what Captain Yami’s done.” William gestured to the seat across him which was for visitors. 

“Sukehiro Aki is in the Capital. She’s been spotted in conversation with the Wizard King.” He breathed out, unsurprised when his Captain pushed his chair back and stood up. It was like deja vu. 

“I leave the rest of today’s affairs in your hands.”

“Yes, Captain.”

-

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me, Asta?” Aki asked as they strolled through the Capital streets looking for Finral to transport them all back.

Asta tilted his head up, arms crossed behind his head. “Congrats on what, Aki-Senpai?” He asked.

“For passing the Magic Parliament exam of course. Now they won’t execute me. Isn’t that great?” She shrugged.

“Eh?? They wanted to execute you too?” Asta screamed, in shock that she could say something like that in such a blase way. “What’s up with those guys? Why do they keep wanting to execute us?” He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around nobles and their weird biases. 

“Ah, I’m pretty sure that when my magic went out of control years ago we also got all those negative stars. Sorry about that. I really tried to make up for them by taking all those dungeon missions from Julius-sama.” She bowed repeatedly.

“Those were because of you too, Senpai????” Asta spun around, unable to express the shock with just his hands anymore. As he was spinning around, he caught sight of a familiar white uniform and stopped, thinking it might have been Yuno but instead of dark hair the figure was wearing a strange mask over his head.

“Wah, it’s Golden Dawn’s Captain!” Asta started waving, eyes widening when the man kept walking, stopping once he was in front of them. “H-Hello, Captain Vangeance.”

“Asta, it seems you’re as lively as ever.” William nodded at the young knight and then turned to Aki with a genial smile. “And you have a new friend with you.”

Asta’s eyes went from Aki to William and back. The Wizard King had told him to ask Captain Vangeance about Captain Yami’s sibling but given the way he was talking, Asta decided to try introducing them. “Yeah, this is Captain Yami’s-”

“I’m glad to see you in good shape, Will. Being Captain really becomes you.” Aki easily slipped into the conversation, her body language emitting a kind of comfort you get when in the presence of an old and dear friend. It reminded Asta of how he felt when he talked to Yuno and he figured they must be good friends.

“You look like you’ve grown as well.” The Captain responded just as easily, more relaxed than Asta had ever seen him. “And, if I may, being home becomes you.” 

Aki laughed but her laugh was lighter and brighter than when she did at the base. Asta could feel the overflowing fondness from it. “I wasn’t entirely certain that would be the consensus but it appears I was wrong. Then again, I’ve never been all that clear on how others’ viewed my power.” She retorted, their conversation like a game of wits with no end in sight. 

William’s expression became serious. “Believe me, my friend. You were many things to us, but you were never something to fear. You were far too kind.” His lips quirked up, like some kind of unspoken meaning had been shared between them. 

With a scoff, Aki responded. “Said the King of Kindness himself.”

“You flatter me.”

“Excellent, would you like me to dole out some more?”

The Knight Captain’s shoulders shook as he began to chuckle. “Only if you would allow me to reciprocate, perhaps over dinner?” His tone was playful now, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine that behind the mask his eyebrows were raised in challenge. 

“My, you really should watch what you say, Will.” Aki said, trying to difuse the tension with what was clearly nervous laughter. Around them, women of both noble and common background began to murmur. And though she spent all this time building her resolve so she wouldn’t fall to the sound of their scoffing, it still put her on edge. “Women fainter of the heart will misunderstand.”

William smirked like she’d fallen into his trap. “And if that is my goal?”

Aki blinked at him in confusion. “What?” She asked, disbelieving. Surely, he hadn’t meant what she thought he meant.

“I have romantic feelings for you, Aki. I always have. And I made a promise that if you were to return to me, if I had a chance at a future with you, I would take it. So this is my proposal, I wish to court you properly. I won’t hold anything back any longer, not my secrets, not my fears, and least of all my feelings. And, if you would allow me, I would like to return the comfort and love I felt when you were by my side a hundred fold.”

But William continued, past the rising voices of the people around them. Past the jeers of nobles saying that the William Vangeance was consorting with some wild woman from the Black Bulls and the pained whispers of women insisting they were a better match for him. Past all the sticks and stones society had thrown at them again and again.

“I hope that this time you will consider this offer for as long as you have to so as to make a proper decision.” He added, a teasing lilt to his voice.

William stood in front of her, a shield against it all, showing her how he felt.

“I will await your acceptance or rejection of my offer for as long as it takes.” He finished with a dramatic swish of his cape, walking into the crowd that had formed without another word.

Aki stood still, trying to process what it was that just happened. William, her best and closest friend, had proposed to court her. He’d incited her in public again with complete faith that the dark magic that was essential to her would not overcome her. And most importantly, he had feelings for her. He’d felt that way all this time. Despite clearing all of those facts up in her mind…

“Wh-What the hell just happened, Asta?” She asked, turning to her junior who was staring at her with wide eyes.

“The Captain of the Golden Dawn just confessed to you, Aki-Senpai!”

#probably kinda ooc #probably a little cheesy #but idk i just love vangeance a lot and had to express it *shrug* #william vangeance x reader #William Vangeance #Black Clover #Black Clover Imagines #chuuni fic

[softlyjiminie]

call him | j.j.k [ ii ]

⇢ paring(s): jeon jungkook x reader, park jimin x reader.

⇢ word count: 3.5K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: angst, smut, fwb!au, college!au.

⇢ summary: jimin is yours, you are jimin’s but what does jungkook make of that?

⇢ warning(s):  please read! heavy smut, cumplay, fingering, oral ( female and male recieving ), light choking, spanking, exhibitionism, master/sir kink, daddy kink, sub!reader, dom!jimin, male mastrubation, breeding kink kind of, marking, heavy degrading, swearing, unprotected sex ( wear protection please. ), ex-friends with benefits.

⇢ author’s note(s): friends! i think its been a month or two since I last posted but ive been getting ready for uni! so ive decided to try and post fanfics at least once or twice a month, anyways here's a long awaited continuation of my first smut, call him. ( update: this fic has been updated and edited as of 2020 )

⇢ parts: ( one ) ( here! ) ( final )

“friends with benefits, huh?” were the first words park jimin had spoken to you after the phone call. you’d taken his number from jungkook’s phone that night and went home almost straight away to call him for real, spending the early hours of friday morning blabbering about everything and nothing. 

jimin had wanted to take you out the very next day, asking you to meet him outside of the campus coffee shop that evening. you’d arrived early of course, spying him working a shift through the window, which made you smile. jimin had always seemed like a quiet, shy boy and working at the coffee shop had suited him well. what you hadn’t expected was that very same, rather soft, looking boy to step out in some tight fitting black skinny jeans and a layered shirt after changing out of his uniform. 

“wha-wha-? huh?” you asked more so to yourself than to him. he smiled, looking down at his feet as he shifted a hand through his rose tinted hair, rocking on his tip toes. 

“your thing with jeon, thought we’d talk it out first before it causes bumps in our relationship, yano?” jimin shrugged, looking you in the eye this time. You must’ve looked quite flustered, since he was smirking at you cheekily.

you nodded a long with him, scuffing your boot as you shoved your sweaty fingers into your pockets to conceal them. “of course, i ended things with him...we’re cool now,” you had hummed as jimin begun to walk with you, at the time you hadn’t known where you were going but that didn’t matter. “it’s just you and i now...i guess?” 

jimin then smirked, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “i guess it is.” 

                                                     “mmph park jimin!” you gasp, fingers curling in his lavender sky locks so hard you swore you could smell the bleach in his roots. he smirks devilishly against your inner thigh, biting a solid seven more hickies either side before delving back into your flower to get a taste of its sweet nectar. he was like a bee, a fool of a creature following the honey duct to its alluring centre, drinking in every sound you made. “jimin!” 

his glinting eyes blink up at you from over your hips, tongue lapping at your precious gem as he did so. “good morning princess, sleep well?” he teases, dancing his fingers along your naked thigh to push them further apart. the man himself had been lying on his stomach between your legs when you woke up and now he was sliding two digits over your hot centre. “so wet...”

“minnie, min...minmin baby, please... i have a lecture soon.” you whine, thrashing about a bit when jimin held your hips down slightly. he only grunts in response, slipping his tongue over your sweet lips before thumbing your clit.

 “how long have we got?” 

“ten minutes to shower, five to dress and if i skip makeup...ah! oh my god you brat, just let me cum!” 

you growl at jimin, who wastes no more time in devouring you fully, on a mission to get you to your high. you cant help but squeal when he the plunges the two fingers past your entrance without warning, mewling as he curls them into a hook shape to stimulate that special spot. his tongue lapped loops around your bundle of nerves in a sloppy cycle and the combined movements make you call out his name as your release crashes over you in record time, after shocks of bliss pooling through your veins. 

“what a perfect start to the day, i don’t think i even need to make breakfast.” jimin hummed, as he helps you up, the remains of your previous orgasm painting his chin. you roll your eyes at him as you stand with shaky legs, but your boyfriend being ever the gentleman guides you to your feet and spanks your ass when you make a move for the bathroom. “perfect view too.” 

“park jimin, you’re insatiable.” you remind him, before slinking off into the shower to quickly prepare yourself for the lectures ahead. the spring haired boy only grins again, having no classes until later. 

“and you love me for it!” 

you flip him the middle finger.

the walk to your lecture is pretty quick despite the quiver in your legs and you believe you can make it within fifteen minutes of starting. your thoughts trickle off into the last six months, in which you had spent with jimin.

after ending things with jungkook, you found yourself falling quickly for the boy with lilac hair, his crescent moon eyes and soft smile effortlessly drawing you in. jimin was sweet and caring, had a tender heart and was everything you could have ever needed. jimin had never pressured you, waited until you were ready for anything (especially being intimate.) and was overall the first boyfriend you’d felt happy with. spending time with jimin made you realise that you didn’t have many friends outside of jungkook, even your ex-roommate didn’t like you that much. your boyfriend had introduced you to his little circle of people, and you’d really grown into yourself.

sliding into the lecture hall, you took your seat midway through the rows, making sure you had a good enough view of the front. you pulled out your computer to start up your notes, noticing the sticky note jimin had left you on its top. 

‘lunch at noon? my treat, my sweet <3’ 

you giggled at the message, tucking it into  your notebook and shoot jimin a quick text to let him know where your class was. it soon started up, causing everyone else to resume their seats and take out their belongings. you looked down, only for a moment to shove your phone into your pocket when a familiar scent filled your nostrils. the smell of fresh leather and a soft fruits, you shifted uncomfortably instantly recognising the person instantly. 

“YN!” a voice to your right called, the owner beaming down at you as they sat. your shoulders relaxed slightly as you met their gaze, offering a smile of your own. 

“morning yoongi, you seem chipper today.” you chuckled as you noted the large coffee the man had gathered along his belongings. whilst yoongi was majoring in sound technology, he had decided to take a semester of psychology to boost his appeal to employers and also have something to fall back on just in case. “what’s in your coffee?” 

he grinned at you, handing you the cup for you to take a sip. you grimaced after with a shake of your head. “vodka.” 

“you’re annoying.” 

yoongi only smiled a gummy smile in response, mischief sparking in his eyes much like his best friend, jimin. the rest of the class passed easily, notes being taken and ideas being shared. although, the end had come to a halt as your professor handed out your midterm assignments. 

a partner project. 

and of course, your partner had to be... “jeon jungkook and YN LN, your assignment is to be based on plasticity and recovery of brain function. i have high expectations of you ms LN.”

you nod sheepishly at your professor, turning to face jungkook shortly after, unsure of how to approach the situation. “we should probably meet up to make arrangements for this.” he mutters when you finally make eye contact, his dark hair is much longer and curlier than you remember as it falls just under his brow bone. his face is fuller which shows he’s been eating well, but there’s a slightly more grown look to him. older. “are you free for lunch?” 

you shake your head. “no, i have plans.” 

“i see,” jungkook nods, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he eyes you up and down and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. that was something he always did when he wanted you, and whilst it’d turn you on before, it now made you feel gross and dirty, only jimin had that heated effect on you now. “i’ll text you then?” 

“sure, i can give you my number?” you answer his question with your own, a guilty throb in your chest when a disappointed look crosses his face. 

“i never deleted it.” jungkook sighs, standing abruptly to leave the lecture hall. there was nothing keeping him behind since those who were paired were allowed to go. you bit your lip, flustered at his cold and awkward behaviour. you wondered if he knew about yourself and jimin, he must’ve if neither of you had reached out to one another. truth be told you had blocked jungkook’s number after you began to date jimin, just to make sure the two relationships never overlapped. he’d never texted you though.

you pack up the rest of your things without bothering to wait for yoongi, a tired frown slipping over your face before you catch jimin outside your class room. a bright smile grew on his lips as he noticed you, the friends he had with him turning to face you as well. you couldn’t help but skip into his arms, throwing your own around his neck as he hoisted you up by the waist.

“afternoon, princess.” he smirked against your ear, pressing a kiss to the spot under there. “how was your lecture?” 

you chose to pout, nuzzling into him instead. “terrible, i hated every second of it.” you complained into his skin as he rubbed your back, soothingly. 

jimin frowned as he pulled away from you ever so slightly, taking a quick glance over your features before locking his gaze on you. “and why’s that?” 

you shook your head right as yoongi crawled out from the depths of the lecture hall, a tired and bored expression painted on his face whilst he shrugged his back pack over one shoulder. 

“she’s upset because he got paired with that jungkook kid on her latest psych project, i think he’s in our class for some extra credit.” he answered in a nonchalant tone, moving over to swing his arm around his boyfriend seokjin. that was quite a sight to see, since the blonde male was much shorter than the other. jimin’s other friends; namjoon and taehyung only rolled their eyes at the shorter’s antics.

jimin frowned as he let his lips brush your forehead, holding you close as if you were to slip away. “if he bothers you, baby...” your boyfriend started, a possessive tone flickering in his voice as he held you. “you let me know right away, yeah?” 

you nodded, blinking in his grasp as he lead you off to lunch. “right away.” 

taehyung had chosen a local noodle bar owned by a small old lady and her husband for lunch. it was a little ways from the university campus, but your small group of friends liked to think of it as your smaller hideout. only a handful of students knew about it.

you had shuffled over to the counter to pick up some extra napkins, your boyfriend being a particularly messy eater. the girl behind the counter had actually been the granddaughter of the old couple, who’d come over from the states to connect with her roots. you remained chatting away with her for a while when her gaze shifted over to a customer waiting beside you. 

“i’ll have your order to go out in a moment, sir.” she bid politely with a nod, smiling at the customer as she slid off to the kitchen.

“no worries,” jungkook mumbled, to your surprise. you hadn’t been expecting to find him here, especially with the exclusiveness of this place. “so this is where you came instead of planning for our project.”

you frowned, chewing on your bottom lip as your feet remained rooted in place. the boy had a lazy smirk that would have made your heart flutter if it weren’t for the fact that you were utterly in love with your lavender haired boyfriend tucked away in the bathroom. “are you following me?” you blurted out, not even thinking. you internally cringed as you watched a sour expression fall over the taller boy’s face. another slip up.

“we came here during freshman year,” jungkook furrowed his brows with a quiet voice. “y’know, when we were still friends.”

you flinched, eyes scrunching shut. “jungkook-“ 

he waved a hand as the girl came back with a plastic bag of warm food, the smell instantly telling you it was his favourite spicy noodles. “if you’re here alone, i’d really like to talk about how we can split the project up so we can start it sooner.” 

you blinked, mind reeling at the change of subject and how easily he could mask up his hurt. you shrugged.  

“well actually, im not alone right now but-“

“but she’s with me, her boyfriend, park jimin.” your boyfriend hummed, a hint of hostility in his tone as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. jungkook only eyed the latter male up and down with an unimpressed look, but his deep doe eyes only told you how hurt he was. because you’d been best friends up until this point, the last six months being spent in jimin’s arms instead of his. “did you need anything, kook?” 

“no, i was just leaving.” the younger seethed back and glanced down at jimin, being half a head taller. you felt his eyes waver over you as jungkook moved to brush past you. 

jimin growled, seemingly not liking the way that the younger was looking at you, opting the grab him by the wrist, much to your surprise. “watch yourself around my girlfriend, alright jeon? 

the younger nodded, pulling his arm from your boyfriend’s grip before shooting you a glare that sent a slight pang to your heart. as soon as he was gone you felt jimin ease up beside you, his whisky orbs fluttering over your face to check if you were alright.

“you okay baby?” he hummed, standing before you to brush hair back from your face. you nodded in response, pushing the napkins into jimin’s chest with a small frown as he held you. “if he bothers you again, make sure to tell me, i’ll take care of it.” 

you sighed, ignoring the flash of guilt that struck you when looking at jungkook walk away. before all this he had been your best friend, and you’d let him slip away from you. “thank you minnie, i love you.” 

the lavender haired boy kissed your cheeks gently, smiling at you as he pulled away. his brightness distracting you from the hurt in your heart. “and i adore you, baby.” 

the following week you’d arranged to meet up with jungkook in the library, a series of texts and awkward encounters had gotten you there. now you sat alone in your favourite corner, nose buried deep into a book on stem cells for brain recovery. the brightness of the world seemed to disappear as a pair of hands covered your eyes.

“guess who?” jungkook mumbled, his warm breath tickling at the nape of your neck, causing the hairs their to stand on end. your body jolted in response, memories of your earlier times together flashing like light bulbs in your mind. and the dark haired boy seemed to tune in with that, signified with a deep chuckle. 

he slid down into the seat beside you, allowing you to stutter out a greeting as he pulled out his books. a silence settles between you as you start to read more, taking a few notes here and there with scribbles of how to present the information. humming, you turn to jungkook ready to explain an idea, before jumping when you notice how close he is. 

“hey princess,” the boy slurs, his doe eyes sparkling brightly as he looked over at you. you shifted a little away from him, smelling the alcohol from his breath. “you’re so cute.”

you frowned. “jungkook...are you drunk?” 

he blinked with a big smile, leaning over you a bit more and invading your personal space. “needed something to take the edge off before i came here,” the boy mumbled, twirling a finger in your hair “didn’t know if your boyfie with the stick up his ass would be here or not...”

“just get some work done, kook.” you frowned at jungkook, who became increasingly affectionate yet insulting of your boyfriend, the alcohol in his system making him more honest. at some point you’d managed to get him into some work but it wasn’t long until he was bothering you again. 

“YN-ie, you smell so good...” the boy mumbled, throwing his head into the crook of your neck. you felt your body freeze at the closeness, an intimate position that would have once made you flustered to no end. times of heated rendezvous in the backs of study rooms sparking in your mind. jungkook’s lips were inches away from your sweet spot, ghosting along the scopes of your neck with faded familiarity. 

“jungkook...”

“missed having you this close, baby.” 

you held your breath and mentally cursed yourself for letting jungkook get so close, letting your guard down. with a bitten lip, you pried the boy away from your frame, only to be caught off guard when he gripped your wrist and tugged you into him. “kook, you’re drunk...” you tried to reason with him, alarm bells ringing in your head as you tried to tug away from him once again. “please let’s just work yeah?” 

he chuckled, low and deep as he locked his dark eyes with yours and sent a shiver down your spine. “you were always trying to resist me, kitten, bet the only thing holding you back now is your prissy little boyfriend-“

smack.

the sound cracks through the silence of the library and a flurry of shocked gasps followed through with it. holding your hand close to your chest, you looked over at jungkook who stared back at you with equal shock. his own hand cupped his reddened cheek, his mouth slightly agape. 

your bottom lip wobbled as you quickly gathered your things, humiliated at the thought of even hurting jungkook despite what he had said about your boyfriend. blinking away your tears, you stepped back with your bag and shook your head with a whisper. “i’ll finish this in my own...just stay away from me...”

and with that you fled from the scene.

“uh huh, yeah, i think she just got home, alright...later!”

you stumbled through the door of your apartment, exhausted, deciding to march away your tears before you got home to jimin. you watched him approach you as you dumped your belongings onto the table to finish off your project. he wraps his arm around your waist from behind and kisses the back of your neck once near. 

“hey beautiful, project go well?” jimin sighed into your skin as he clung to you, letting you work slightly (but not without kissing that spot near where jungkook had touched you earlier.). you shrugged in response, shivering as you remembered the rest of the day. “seokjin hyung wants to know if you wanna go out tonight, a new bar just opened up and-“ 

you spun quickly in jimin’s arms, praying that he couldn’t read your face like he always did. you’d already had enough gone wrong today. “minnie, i have a quite a bit left to do tonight so could you give me a few hours?” you shrugged his hands off your waist, instantly missing his touch that masked the feel of jungkook’s from earlier. “just, not tonight.” 

your boyfriend frowned, keeping one hand on your waist and the other sifting through his coloured locks. it wasn’t like you to brush him away like that, nor reject a night out with some of your best friends. nonetheless, jimin released you fully and allowed you to slide into your seat and type away. he took a glance over your shoulder to peek at your notes, noticing that not even half the work had been done despite knowing your plans to split the load with your partner. 

he frowned deeper. “what did jungkook do?” your typing paused as an icy chill moved over your body, your boyfriend instantly detecting the change in attitude.

“nothin’.” 

“baby, you know you can’t lie to me.” jimin said sternly, irritation seeping into his tone. you flinched ever so slightly before jimin engulfed you in a soft hug, instantly regretting it. you knew he wasn’t mad at you, but instead what had happened to you. “did that kid hurt you? did he bail on you? did he...touch you?” 

“he was drunk and barely did any work and-“ you whimpered tiredly as jimin held you closer, wanting nothing more to wash jungkook off of you and bask in your boyfriend. “he touched me...and he started insulting you and i-“ you could barely finished, curling into your boyfriend, who only tried to control his angry demeanour. you knew he was pissed and wanted nothing more than to destroy your old friend but all you wanted was for him to take your mind off things. “please just make me forget...” 

you watched with innocent eyes as a dark cloud stormed through jimin, his lips parted as he wet them with his tongue. “what did you say?” 

you felt yourself keen into a submissive stance, falling into the game yourself and jimin played. the slightest of things making him click, ready to move his piece across the board. you let your gaze lock with his, the dullness of submission creeping into your eyes. 

“please make me forget, sir.” 

jimin chuckled lowly, ghosting his finger tips over your supple cheeks and tilting your jaw to make you look up at him. “are you ordering me around, angel?” he hummed, tilting his own head to the side to get a better look at you. “the little attention whore, telling me...what to do? after you let that filthy boy put his hands on you?” 

his words were harsh but spoken with a soft tone and a delicate touch that trickled down to your throat before gripping it lightly and forcing you to stand. jimin backed you into the nearest wall, other hand caging you in. “i’m not your daddy or your jungkook little one, you don’t get to order me around.” 

“yes sir,” you whispered, a small moan starring in the back of your throat. jimin only smirked, releasing your throat as he kissed you lazily. tongues playing togetherness a heated dance. 

excitement tugged at your heartstrings as you bit at his lips, heat pooling between your legs. you wanted nothing more than for jimin to claim you and make you forget everything about jungkook. you only wanted jimin. the man himself let his hot mouth move sloppily from your lips, ascending down your jaw and to your neck. teeth nipping at the sensitive skin where he could show you off as his. 

“i’ll mark you right here, so everyone knows who you belong to, baby.” he hummed, tracing his tongue over each mark before he hauled you over his shoulder and head for your shared bedroom.

placing you down gently, jimin shrugged off his shirt to reveal his toned dancers body from his minor classes, he kissed you once with adoring eyes before kissing a trail down your clothed stomach. “what to do with you, what would help you forget baby?” 

whining as jimin pushed your hips down to stop you from rutting into him. he pushed up your shirt, ghosting his fingertips over your exposed skin. “fingers...hands...” you couldn’t make up your mind as jimin flipped you over, landing on his back with ease. 

“how about face?” he mumbled, pushing your hips over his face to the point where your thighs rested either side of his head. with a tentative touch he pushed your panties to the side, hot tongue drawing a stripe along the length of your heat. wetness gushed from within, causing your boyfriend over moan into your slickness. “your pretty little pussy tastes so good.”

you gripped his hair as your hips moved on their own accord, rutting against jimin’s tongue slipped and slid inside you and over your clit. whining, loudly you pressed your head on the head of your shared bed, loving the feeling of jimin’s hands forcing you forward over his eager mouth. you felt him hesitate at the vibration of your phone from your discarded pants, but your moans urged him on.

“minnie...” you sighed into the air, tossing your head back and ignoring the vibrations again. a harsh slap to your ass, caused you to fall forward on the bed frame. “uh-oh my god!” 

jimin pulled himself from drawing patterns over your clit with his tongue to remind you. “you address me as your fucking master or sir, babygirl, don’t forget your fucking place.” he reprimanded with a pinch to your ass. your phone beeped again. with an impatient growl, jimin yanked your phone from your clothes after pushing you face first over his knees, your head in his lap and your ass in his face. a lazy finger made its way past your entrance with practised ease, your dripping arousal allowing jimin to slide in better. 

you gasped out, breath heavy as he slowly pounded your crying hole with one finger, curling it slightly. like you had been trained to do, you pawed at jimin’s growing erection as you whined. almost begging for permission to touch him. your boyfriend looked down at you with a stoic face as he held your phone with his other hand, dark eyes granting you permission to pull down his clothes and get at his solid length. 

“it’s jungkook.” he stated, adding another finger to the mix, curling and brushing at the spot that made your thighs quiver and essence drip down your legs. “he says he’s sorry, how cute. he wants to make it up to you. wants to see you right now.” jimin’s tone was even and straight, nothing compared to the wobbly whines of ‘please’ and ‘master’. “if only he knew how  beautifully pathetic you looked right now babydoll, drooling over master’s cock.” 

you couldn’t help but whine at the mix of degradation and praise, rolling your hips back into his hand as you  dribbled over his lap, using the slick of your hand to tug at his length. the lavender haired boy chuckled, holding out your phone to unlock before typing away. “maybe he’d like to see...” 

grasping jimin’s, now bare legs, you moaned as he pumped his fingers within your heated core. the simple suggestion had you fluttering around the man’s digits, the thought of jungkook seeing how pathetic you were for jimin and not him. a click of the camera behind you had you pausing, hesitant eyes catching with jimin’s. “you don’t mind if i send him a little something, darling, is that okay?” he asked with a soft tone, returning to your fluffy and bright smiled boyfriend. you only nodded, wiggling your hips as a sign for him to continue. “of course you wouldn’t, dirty girl.” 

instead of granting you such satisfaction, jimin pulled his fingers from your slick heat, smacking them down on your ass cheek heavily as to elicit the long and almost pornographic moan from between your parted lips. “turn around for me doll, i wanna see your pretty face.” jimin mumbled, helping you rotate to sit in his lap once more, bare length brushing up against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. you quivered in your position, letting jimin send off the text to jungkook’s contact. the lavender haired boy set the phone down, locking his dark eyes with yours as he pushed his slick fingers between your lips. “suck.”

you wasted no time cleaning off his fingers, tasting yourself in on your tongue. “tastes good, master.” you simpered, smiling as jimin cooed praises at your work. his other hand traced small patterns down your skin, darting across the small of your back and igniting a fire within. your belly filled with butterflies when jimin pawed at your hips, gently pulling you back and forth against his hardening girth. “feels good too...”

the smirk on your boyfriend’s face had you rutting back against him, jaw running slack as jimin guided you. small gasps escaped his lips as your paces increased, the air between you heating up as your lips met in passionate kisses. tongues swirled as hips moved and lips smacked and moans were made. you couldn’t help but be a little bold as jimin threw his head back, lips trailing down to make your possessive mark on his neck, biting down hard. he was yours and you were ready for him to make you his. 

“we got a text back baby...” jimin moaned as you sucked on his sweet spot, you loved it when he was vocal instead of growling and huffing. he tugged you away slightly, letting you lick over his newfound bruise  to show you the message. 

‘YN..., what’re you doing-?’ 

the text read, but you were too far gone to think of a response an orgasm building up just from rutting against your boyfriend. puffs of air left your lips and jimin chuckled darkly, hinting at you to use your words. “w-what...oh m-what should i say master?” 

thumbing your clit for a second, jimin shifted himself to position his length at your entrance, his cock lubricated with the endless wetness from your heat. whimpering, you eased yourself down onto him with fingers tangled in the wet of his hair from where he had started to sweat. “can i take another picture baby?” jimin mumbled, hands hips settling on your hips as you both adjusted. you only nodded, resting your head on his shoulder to catch your breath. “i need words YN.”

“yes, yes you can.” you agreed  breathlessly, the feeling of being so full sending you into a mindless state. jimin kissed your cheek as he pushed you to sit up, snapping a picture of where your bodies met and sending it off to jungkook.

“good girl.” your boyfriend chuckled, thrusting up into you experimentally, loving how you whines and gripped onto him tighter. 

meanwhile, jungkook could feel himself hardening in the basketball shorts he’d thrown on, the fabric becoming too tight for him to breathe comfortably. his eyes whisked over the text over and over again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard whilst he looked over the image. YN, his YN, back arched perfectly with her mouth open in what would’ve been a soft whimper. he could almost imagine the sound, the feel of her squeezing around his thick length and not his.. not jimin’s. 

‘she’s doing so good for her master, sitting on his cock like a good little slut.’

“fuck.” the boy whispered, carding a hand through his curling locks as he bit his lip. his hand begun to dance down his bare chest to the waistband of his shorts as he thought up a reply. before he knew it, the small dots indicating typing had popped up, a second message coming through.

‘can’t think of a reply? such a shame, i wanted to play daddy.’

the male felt his hips buck up into his hand involuntarily at the pet name, his desire for YN growing at an increasing rate. he wondered if she still felt the same, wet and pulsating around his cock. jungkook moaned slightly, finally allowing himself to lightly fist his length with the precum dripping from its tip. 

clouded by lust he did the unthinkable, only hoping he wasn’t overstepping the boundaries. 

the phone rang loudly as jimin gripped your hips, thrusting up wildly with dark eyes as you matched his pace. mouths wide out open with heavy breaths and the sounds of skin slapping on skin resonating throughout the room. 

you paid no mind whilst jimin’s hand left your hip to fiddle with the device, focusing on the tight knot that was building in your core. you’d buried your face in jimin’s neck not too long ago, enjoying the feeling marking him as yours. your boyfriend tapped your back slightly, signifying for you to lean back and bounce your hips in tune with his. “isn’t she gorgeous?” jimin chuckled, and you faltered.

“fuck, she’s so fucking beautiful...” 

you heard jungkook’s voice emanating from the screen, suddenly aware of what was happening. a facetime call. your boyfriend must of sensed your hesitance, shielding your frame from the camera’s view before kissing you sweetly, eyes asking for permission to continue. you nodded your head, it was nothing you couldn’t handle. jimin smiled brightly, slowly bringing the camera back to you as you regained your composition and pace. all you had to do was please him. 

jimin blinked up at you tenderly, grinning at how beautiful his girl was all for him. knowing that jungkook could only watch and never touch what was his. “why don’t you tell daddy thank you, since he praised you so nicely.” 

you heard yourself and jungkook groan slightly in unison and it pleased you to know how much of an affect you still hand on him. it made you feel powerful. “thank you daddy...” you whined as jimin latched onto one of your nipples to give the latter boy a show and you felt your ego inflate when jungkook let out a soft whimper in response. “are you touching yourself daddy?” 

you managed between breathy moans, jimin making a canvas of your chest and neck as his lips smirked against your skin. his girl, ever the tease. 

“yes baby, fuck...all for you.” jungkook moaned at the view, leaning back to show his large hand wrapped around his pulsing cock, the head burning a bright red with excitement. your centre tingled around your boyfriend’s own length at the image, a lewd noise coming from where you both met as more of your slick gushed out. 

“i bet you’d like it if she was the one pleasuring you, kook,” your boyfriend mumbled, handing you the phone so that he popped into view. reminding jungkook of his presence. “her mouth, her hands...her cute little pussy.” 

you moaned with each word, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter, knowing it would spur both men on. “god, please minnie...more!” 

the lavender haired male growled lowly, spanking your ass twice as he rutted into you fast and hard. “that’s master to you.” 

“spank her again, please.” jungkook demanded over the phone, causing jimin to work himself harder against you, the head of his cock hitting that spot that made you collapse on top of him. his palm smacked down against your left cheek again, and then your right with slightly less force. you slumped against him as he used your throbbing, soaking hole, drooling onto his shoulder as his length drilled into you, almost splitting you into two. “fuck that’s it, what a brainless slut.” 

you whimpered, pulling jimin’s hair and scratching at his back so hard you almost broke skin. you could see on the phone, that you were so desperately holding, that jungkook was nearing his high, his hips stuttering as he drove his girth up into his fist. slick sounds of his wet length poured from the phone as you watched with a salivating mouth. “m-master...kook’s gonna cum...” you barely managed, clinging to jimin for dear life as he took you how he wanted. 

“you gonna cum for her kook? cum all over your hand like a horny teenager just for her?” jimin teased. the younger only nodded, too far gone to even control the grunts and moans of your name. “would you cum on her face? let her clean it off with her tongue like the filthy baby she is?”

“shit, YN...feels so fucking good...wanna cum in your pretty little hole...fuck princess.” the raven haired boy whispered, squeezing his length as if it was you clenching around him. you moaned along with him, just to send him over the edge when jimin suddenly pushed you down onto your back, pulling out of you slightly and grabbing the phone from your grip. 

he gently teased your entrance with the head of his cock, not quite slipping in, and not quite pulling out. he flipped the camera to show jungkook your worn out and frazzled state. messy hair and puffy lips. watery eyes and sweaty skin. to jungkook, you looked absolutely beautiful. just like how you did on the days where he’d spend hours ravishing your body. the days when you were his. 

“you see her, jungkook,” jimin mumbled, gently thrusting into you as you sighed. his pace was much slower than before and from over the phone you could see the softness in his eyes. “you see my beautiful YN, she’s mine and no matter what you do, she’ll always be mine. mine to kiss, mine to love, mine to fuck. her heart? it belongs to me. this pussy?” jimin rolled his hips into yours slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of him, letting him fill you up to the brim and feel him all the way in your fingertips. “mine. and i want you to remember, after this, she’ll always be thinking of me, moaning for me, cumming for me. it’ll be me. not you. remember that.” 

and with that, your boyfriend cut off the video call, throwing the phone elsewhere on the bed as he collapsed on top of you. your let your legs wrap around his waist as he took you deeper, sensual longing thrusts taking you closer and closer to unraveling the knot. “you’re mine baby, always mine.” he grunted, hips snapping against yours as your fingers tangled into his sweaty locks. 

“im always yours, no one else’s minnie.” you gasped back, throwing your head back for him to kiss at your neck sloppily. he continued on, both of you meeting in a messy dance of lips and limbs, jimin never slowing down as his thrusts lost their rhythm. 

he pressed his face further into your neck after kissing you sweetly, fingers trailing between your bodies to thumb at your clit. “i love you so much, YN, please...cum with me.” 

you locked your gaze with him, eyes full of love and adoration. feeling him twitch within your tight walls, you nodded softly, brushing the hair from his eyes. “i love you even more.” 

jimin pressed his lips to yours, tongue swiping at their entrance to dance with your own as the first few spirts of his seed filled you. the tangled mess of knots in your stomach finally unwinded as your sweetness released onto his cock. white flashed behind your eyes and all you could see was him, feel was him and love was him. nothing and no one could compare to the way jimin made you feel, your juices mixing together as jimin gently thrust into you, mumbling nothing but sweet praises as he kissed you over and over. 

you lay tangled together for a moment or so before your boyfriend pulled his softening cock from the mess between your thighs and rolled off of you, you were left without his warm for only a second before he pulled you into his arms to spoon you. 

you blinked at him, lacing your pinkies as you rested in his embrace. “hi.” you smiled. 

“hi baby,” he grinned back, kissing your nose gently. “are you alright? i didn’t hurt you did i? was i okay?” 

you hushed jimin with a squeeze of his pinky, nearing him as close as you could in his already tight hold. you kissed his cheek before taking it into your palm and rubbing it softly, heart swelling at how he leaned into your touch. “you were amazing, more than okay...perfect, you’re always so good to me, jiminie.” you reassured him. “i love you so much.” 

“you’re always perfect for me...” he added, placing a hand over yours as he gazed at you lovingly. “im sorry for bringing jungkook into this i...i don’t know what came over me.” 

you chuckled slightly, pressing a kiss to one of the many bruises that littered his neck. jimin was always shy after sex, and truth be told it was one of the many things you loved about him. he was always tender with you. even when adding jungkook to the mix he made sure that you were okay with it every step of the way, that was why you were so comfortable going through with it. 

“jimin, my love, i didn’t mind at all, you made me feel so good and loved i didn’t even notice him and besides, he won’t tell anyone, especially after you blue-balled him.” you explained with a smile, nuzzling into your boyfriend not a moment later. jimin giggled in response, kissing your hair as he nodded along with you. 

“well i didn’t want him to see how pretty my baby looks when she cums for me!” the boy whined in a childlike manner, pink lips jutting out in a pout as he hid his face in your neck to hide his blush. you only rolled your eyes in response, heart swelling with love for your boy. you stayed cuddling for a while longer before jimin decided to run you both a hot bath to clean up. 

you spent the night giggling away, with stolen kisses and take out food on the couch, not a care in the world and not a doubt in your mind. you loved park jimin, you were in love with him and nothing could change that. 

not even jeon jungkook, you’d hoped. 

#bts #bts x you #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfction #bts smut #bts au #bts college au #bts jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfiction #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin smut #jimin imagine #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff

[cherryyharryy]

Burning Words

Chapter Two: Lunch, Library, and Lady Liberty

WC: 7,400

Previous part

Songs for this chapter

The prickling scratch of my highlighter dragging across a strip of text reminds me of how naïve I really am. I hate the sound, hate how uneven the lime green line sits, jagged over the inked words, with a pool of color where the pen sat at the beginning of the sentence. 

It’s raining outside, and rain in New York is not like rain anywhere else. It’s purposeful, like a painting, like it belongs here. The only difference is that nothing changes—not like back home. In Georgia, people would come out afterwards, drive ten miles to the nearest pit and screw their trucks through the mud. Kids would run outside and look for worms and slugs, puddles to jump in. Dogs would dig holes in the softened earth. But here, no one stops. No one bats an eye, not even the people who forget their umbrellas. I wish rain was still life changing.

I sigh, close my notes, and cap my highlighters. “Any ideas for lunch?”

Jessie dips her head back in thought. I see her lashes flutter and her lips pinch, but then she shrugs. “We could order pizza?” She’s sat cross-legged on a patchwork armchair, laptop balanced across her thighs with a pen teetering between her teeth. I have to tip my head over the back of my chair to see her, upside down. “I’ve got a coupon for that place down the street.”

“We always order pizza.”

“We could learn how to cook.”

I click my tongue. “Bingo.” 

The far wall of the apartment has a generous sized window. The floor creaks like we’re torturing it every time we move across a room, the bathtub faucet leaks when it’s hot out, and I know more about my neighbors’ lives than I really need to. But the window....it’s like a movie. My chair sits beside it. I try to count raindrops but there are too many. 

“Chinese?” I offer. 

“You and your egg rolls.”

“They’re the only thing I want when I don’t really wanna eat. I didn’t eat breakfast. And I only had a handful of popcorn for dinner last night.” 

I can see a park from here, and in the winter when the trees are bare, a neighboring tennis court. Flowers hang limply from their stems along the sidewalk. A cat scrambles across the road, sporadic, and suddenly I envy the lack of knowledge animals have, lack of responsibilities, sense of time, unspoken contracts. At times I wish I were a depressed cat soaked to the bone, thinking if I move quick enough I’ll escape the rain. 

“What?” I miss half of what Jessie asks. 

“How’s your class been?”

“Which one?”

Jessie pauses her movements to assert me with a knowing glare. “You know what class. How’s the British babe?”

“Ugh, Harry.”

“Harry,” she tests his name before I continue. A few students have called him by his name, but he’s quick to correct them, surely enjoying his authority.

“He’s most definitely not a babe. A jackass. And he’s been as jackass-y as ever.” I join Jessie when she starts to laugh. “He calls on me every chance he gets. And I swear it’s just to humiliate me.”

“Well at least he’s nice to look at.”

“That means nothing when he’s a jerk.”

“True.” Jessie shrugs. “What about Truman’s...it’s near campus?”

I loll my head back and narrow my gaze. They don’t have egg rolls. “Yeah that’s fine.”

“My treat.”

***

In Hungarian, there are two words for the color red. Piros and vörös, with different times to use them, and should be used accordingly. When I was a kid I got them wrong; called my mom’s hat vörös, and got a slap on the wrist by my grandmother. 

I spent that evening hiding in my closet, using the sleeve of my Winnie the Pooh pajamas to soak up the cascade of tears. When my cousin found me, I begged him to explain what I’d done wrong. 

“Piros is blood inside the body. Vörös is when it comes out.”

That’s all I was left with. And I never did understand the difference. For years now that night resurfaces in my brain, and I think, I’m older now, I’ll be able to get it.

But now, as I stand on the sidewalk, peering through the window of Jessie’s lunch choice, I’m swarmed with the overbearing realization that age has nothing to do with it. 

Harry’s in a striped button down, a sea foam green that reminds me of how different candy felt when I was younger, and high-waisted navy blue pants that couldn’t decide between flaring out or forming to the shape of his legs. I watch him balance plates and glasses, stacking forks and knives, spoons and mugs, soiled napkins and empty Splenda packets. He shovels his tip into his pocket and then disappears out of view while someone else wipes down the table. 

“We can go somewhere else.”

“No.” I drag in the humid air, freshly washed, and hold it in my lungs until my head starts to spin. “This is fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. We’ll sit in the back. At Brigette’s table.”

I’m not sure if you can call Truman’s a restaurant. It isn’t fast food, fine dining, or even a bistro. It’s always dark. The chairs are pink and the tablecloths are green. There are flowers everywhere, I thought it was a flower shop and was sadly mistaken when I came in for the first time to buy Jessie a bundle of roses for her birthday. Strumming violins fill any silence between tables. It’s old but new, rooted woods, lamps from the 90’s, curtains from the 80’s, cooks from the 60’s and 70’s. 

“Brigette’s not on today, but that table is available if you want it.”

Me and Jessie both blink at the hostess, unintelligible utterances coming out until we give up, give in, and sit ourselves down at the small tea table under the back window. 

“I hope the rain doesn’t start again. I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

I hum, more preoccupied with trying to find a better distraction than my ripped cuticles. 

“He’s up front,” Jessie assures, “I think I saw that guy I dated the summer after freshman year...Mack something or other...busing these tables. I’m sure he’ll wait on us.”

“Whitaker.”

“What?”

“His name was Mack Whitaker.”

“Yeah, him. It’ll be fine.” She shrugs like it’s nothing. I can’t imagine being her.

The place is busy, rightfully so on a bleak Saturday afternoon. The sun pokes through the clouds occasionally, carving streams of golden light across our table, Jessie’s face, and I assume mine as well. She compliments my eyes and I thank her, then proceed to detail a hundred abstract thoughts as to why she must pity me enough to lie. Someone—who isn’t Mack Whitaker—brings us each water and apologizes for the wait. They’re swamped, understaffed, and had barreled through a visit from the health department early this morning. 

“Anthony’s pissed again,” Jessie mumbles, pursing her lips when I look up at her. I raise my brows so she’ll continue. “I missed his call the other night. But I was busy, so…” she shakes her head and scoffs a laugh. 

“It’s sweet though, that he wants to talk to you everyday.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighs. 

“He’ll get over it,” I assure her. “He did the last time.”

“I just hope he’s over it before he comes up here.”

“Good afternoon, have you had a chance to look at the menu?” A girl from my class ends our conversation. She wears the same outfit as Harry. When she smiles I have to blink, her teeth whiter than heat, slightly crooked, and I imagine she overdoes the stinging gel against her gums to make up for it. It works. Her lips and cheeks look as if she’d became too friendly with strawberries; a character face, full and round, structured like magazine models with skin to match. I remember her from the previous year: pretty, even at eight in the morning. Boys like her, professors like her. Head of the Spanish club but I bet she can’t count past diez. 

“Two turkey on ciabatta with tomato soup. No mayo on one. Diet Coke aaand…” Jessie raises her brows at me.

“My water is fine, thanks.” 

“No mayo,” our server draws out the syllables while jotting down our order. ”Well my name’s Danielle, if you need anything just—” She points her pencil at me and squints, as if that clears my image and her memory. “You look familiar…” She hums to herself, taps the end of the pencil against her lips before her eyes light up. I gulp. “Oh! You’re in my class aren’t you? The early one on Monday and Wednesday!” 

I nod. “Yeah, World Lit.”

“Yeah! How are you doing on your book report?”

“Um, good I guess. Haven’t gotten too far into it yet.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty stupid right? I heard it was the TA’s idea. I mean, I haven’t done a book report since high school.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “So—oh! Speak of the devil.”

My face feels as though I’m being stung by a thousand bees. Harry sidles up beside Danielle and nods to each of us. 

“Afternoon, ladies.” He’s holding a pitcher of ice water and flicks his gaze down to my glass.

I regret how much I drank when he fills it back up to the rim. I scrape my teeth against my tongue before I’m able to say anything. “Thank you.”

He nods, opens his mouth, but Danielle beats him to it. 

“We were just discussing our class.”

My veins are filled with wax, dripping at a pace so unoriginal, hardening, crystallizing. I grab my cutlery wrapped in a mauve pink napkin to occupy my hands, twisting and prodding and jabbing. 

“Yeah,” she continues when all he does is nod. “So what are we doing on Monday?”

“I have a surprise for you all, something I’ve been working on with Dr. Pierce—”

“Oh!” Danielle interrupts. “What is it?”

Harry raises his brows and laughs. “Well I can���t tell you, now can I? Won’t be a surprise.”

“Ohh, yes you can. We won’t say a word.”

Harry denies her once more. His eyes flicker down to me. “I’m sure you won’t. But you’ll have to wait for class to find out.”

“Oh my God! Your hand!”

I follow Jessie’s voice to see a small pool of blood decorating the table, my napkin having soaked up some, my skin a bit more. Red reflects in the sparkling silver of a fork and spoon, glistening on the blade of a knife I have carelessly sawed against the tip of my ring finger. I didn’t feel anything until I saw the cut, and now it stings. 

“We have a first aid kit in the back.” I hear Harry say but I look to Jessie. “Here,” he pulls a handful of napkins from his apron and cups them around my finger. “Is this okay?”

I nod without looking at him. He tells me to come with him, and I oblige, weighing my evils as the entire room is now focused on our table and the girl bleeding out right before their eyes. As I walk with him, I selfishly hope I do lose enough to earn a transfusion, amputate my finger, something, anything, so I can leave. If I get to stay in the hospital, I won’t have to go to class Monday. 

“Don’t worry!” Danielle whispers as she passes by us. “He’s great with his hands.”

I see vörös everywhere. 

***

It burns. Really burns. But I’m thankful. It’s the only thing keeping me aware that I’m alive, that I can’t hide away, that I need to mark my movements as always. He rinses my finger under an ice cold water bottle he pulled from a tiny fridge below the staff’s sign-in computer. Someone yelled at him—Ralph. His name is on the bottle. 

“This is cleaner than whatever comes out of the sink.” 

He slips his foot around the leg of a metal chair and drags it over by the sink; the closet door it had held open falls shut. With a nod he tells me to sit. I say nothing, just watch him care for the small wound like my life really is dependent on it. 

“Can I have your hand—er—can I see it? Your hand?” He rolls his lips in and clears his throat when I extend my arm to him. His touch is almost nonexistent. I barely feel his fingers splaying my hand flat and wide while he rinses the blood off. He uses a towel tucked into his waistband to dry me off, and then pops open the lid of the first aid kit. 

“This is just an antiseptic...don’t think it should burn.” He smooths a small bit of opaque gel over the ridiculously tiny split in my skin. “I think the head and the hand...always an extreme amount of blood. When I was a kid, my sister’s cat scratched me, right under my left eyebrow. It felt like someone poured water down my face. Mum thought I was goin’ to die.” He folds a purple band-aid over my finger, frowning when it’s not smooth so he starts again. “There. Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I whisper.

“Good. Okay. Um, well I guess I’d better get back.” His hand lingers on the bandage, running his thumb over it one last time, and then he finally pulls away. 

“Yeah.” I’m shaky when I stand, and curse myself when I almost trip over the chair when I turn to leave. I pause to speak over my shoulder. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The walk back is long, and I have to fight the urge to look and see what he’s doing. I don’t hear the chair scraping against the floor or Ralph complaining about his water. I’m thankful I threw on my good jeans this morning. 

Jessie is bouncing in her seat when I return—the table beside ours. “Is it bad? It was a lot of blood! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It was really small. The cut I mean.” I look down at my bandage like it’s a secret. “Where’s my stuff?”

“They’re replacing it all,” she waves off. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it throbs a little bit—”

“No, not that! I mean him. Did he say anything to you? Was he mean? Because I’ll go back there if you need me to.”

“No—no, sit down, would you.” I hold back a laugh; she doesn’t need the encouragement. “He was nice.”

“Good. I tried to follow you but the manager came out and asked me what happened. We get our meal free, by the way.”

“Well then I guess this was worth it.”

Our food comes quickly, served by the manager herself. 

“Why aren’t you eating?”

I stir my soup. I can see the reflection of my eyes in the red pool, and I watch myself blink once before rippling my image away. “M’not that hungry.”

Jessie leans over the table and lowers her voice. “What happened?”

“What?”

“With Harry, in the back.”

“No, nothing.” I sigh and slump back into my chair. “I’m just tired. And I have a lot of work to do. That stupid report. And I have a quiz in another class on Tuesday. I’m fine. And he—”

“How are we doing? Is there anything I can get you guys?” Danielle looks prettier each time I see her. I shake my head while Jessie answers, keeping my focus on my untouched food. “Did Harry take care of you?”

It’s a good thing I wasn’t eating or else I would have choked. “Uh, yeah. He did.”

“I knew he would. He’s a sweet one.”

“Mhm.”

How easy it would be, to tell her my name. Tell her that her teeth are too white and her shirt is too tight. I could tell her that Harry’s sister’s cat scratched him when he was a kid and that’s where that tiny little scar above his eye is from. Did you know that Danielle? Or were you too preoccupied with what his hands were doing?

“Alright, well just holler for me if you need anything!”

I ignore her but she doesn’t seem to notice, waltzing off. Harry’s counting menus when she approaches him at the front. I think I hear her call him an angel, but I know I see him smile. I tell Jessie I want to leave. If I’m going to throw up it’s going to be in my bathroom with my best friend holding my hair back. 

***

I've had the Arctic Monkeys stuck in my head all morning. Every clink of the spoon against my bowl of cheerios, every step I took rushing to school because I decided to spend my time in the shower crying, every yawn from everyone stumbling into class. 

And I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky, 

Yours, until the rivers all run dry. 

It’s five past eight. Dr. Pierce stands towards the corner, pointing at paperwork another professor is showing him. Each time a student cracks the door open they smile and hurry to their desk like they’ve won something. Freshmen. He told us twice that he doesn’t care if we’re late, it’s our grade not his, which I appreciate. My pen taps across my notebook. 

And I'll be yours until the sun no longer shines, 

Yours, until the poets run out of rhyme 

In other words, until the end of time

He is late, however. I try to refuse my need to look up at the door each time it opens. I want to dismiss the anxiety of waiting for him. 

I'm gonna stay right here by your side, 

Do my best to keep you satisfied 

Nothin' in the world could drive me away 

'Cause every day, you'll hear me say

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry apologizes, bustling through the door. He did his best to fix the upturned collar of his rose pink button-down, subtly, albeit he fails miserably when a smudge of maroon is revealed. “I uh,” he clears his throat, “had some things to take care of. Got carried away.” He directs his excuse towards our professor, scrambling to pull out today’s materials from his bag. 

Dr. Pierce bids the professor goodbye and welcomes Harry, offering him time to gather himself which he does rather quickly. His lips are pressed together until he’s the center of attention, scanning the room as he always does, finalizing on me and I swear his eyes glisten. 

“So, uh, today we’ll be—”

“So sorry I’m late.” Danielle hurries through the door and takes her seat at the front.

“Right, um, welcome.” Harry’s gaze is trained on the paper in his hands. His brows furrow and he clears his throat before continuing. “As I was saying, we’re doing something a tad different today. Dr. Pierce and I have been talking, and we decided to break up our usual routine And with your reports due soon, offer you all a little added support. So we’ll be heading to the library where you all can work, ask questions, get mine or Dr. Pierce’s advice—whatever you need to finish the final touches before you hand anything in.”

Most everyone appears pleased with this news, proceeding to sling their bags over their shoulders and get out of their chairs. 

“Hold on, hold on,” Dr. Pierce interjects the flow. “You must work on your report and your report only. This isn’t a free-for-all. And I don’t want to hear that you’ve finished it, because I can guarantee that there’s room for improvement from each of you.”

Danielle is the first to make it to the front. She passes Harry on her way to the door and straightens his collar. His face matches the rose colored stain she thumbs over and I think about how if I veer off and go home, no one will notice. 

And I'll be yours until two and two is three, 

Yours, until the mountains crumble to the sea 

In other words, until eternity 

Baby, I'm yours

***

Our library is something out of a medieval storybook. Rich, haunted woods and six tier windows where dust sparkles through the light pushing in. You can lose aged pennies against the floor and get lost behind dusty shelves if you want to. There are microfilms, typewriters, and a spirit machine downstairs and two velvet couches on the second floor. 

I spent the majority of my first semester here, back when Jessie brought a different boy home every Friday night. I’ve missed the smell, the quiet, the disturbed alteration of reality inside its doors. But when I look around at my class tossing their bags on tables and hollering for Dr. Pierce or Harry’s attention, I’m not sure if I’ll make plans to come back. 

Ms. Bortnick, the head librarian, is a stout woman who barely sees over the front desk, but somehow always knows when I’ve come in. When it’s raining, she knows the shake of my umbrella from everyone else’s. And when it’s spring, she knows my sneezes from everyone else’s. She is like a grandmother, only she’d never had kids, so not quite so in that you can’t get away with stuff. She has a bad eye and one good kidney, and sometimes she mixes these two things up, but I gave up on correcting her long ago. That’s how long I’ve been here. 

She is Ukrainian and her accent is thick and aged, much like her mind. “Hello nyuszi,” she says before I’m fully inside. It’s bunny in Hungarian. A nickname from my mom, who tells everyone because she thinks it’s cute. Everyone, including the tiny librarian during the campus tour we took forever and a day ago. 

“Hi Ms. Bortnick,” I say, lagging, like I’m embarrassed, because I am. 

She just waves with a big grandmother-like smile that makes you miss home. 

I take a seat at a small table, behind a section of Virginia Woolf. Most of the voices die down, the clicks of keyboards taking their place, and I  pull out the research I’ve started for my report. The Tropic of Cancer, slightly tattered and worn, lay open beside my notebook, and my laptop sits adjacent. 

“You coming along well?”

Shit. I jump, my ears ringing. “I’m fine.”

Harry nods and paces behind me to look over my shoulder. The air below his body weighs down against my back, so suffocating and harnessing that I’m sure I feel the waves and vibrations his heart emits. I try to swallow but my tongue gets in the way. I should’ve stayed home.

Harry nods and paces behind me to look over my shoulder. The air below his body weighs down against my back, so suffocating and harnessing that I’m sure I feel the waves and vibrations his heart emits. I try to swallow but my tongue gets in the way. I should’ve stayed home. 

“I actually did an analysis on Henry Miller a couple years ago. If you wanna pick my brain, you’re more than welcome to.”

“Oh uh, thanks.”

His voice is grumbly, like rocks turning over beneath tires. Yet smooth, like washing sand off your body. I’m perplexed for a moment, at how these two things meet together so well, but that’s always the case with people. Like how Ms. Bortnick can’t remember anyone’s actual name, but sews that wound up with a pet name she picks out just for you. 

“Yeah, I think I might even have an essay on my laptop. You can look over it if you’d like,” he says. 

“Thank you, but I think I’m fine with what I have.”

“Well if you need anything, just let me know.”

I nod. My eyes blink once he steps away, and it takes me a moment to remember where I am and what I am doing. I’m a bit separated from most of the class, at one of the outlying tables apart from the student section where Harry ambles around everyone. Whenever he bends over to look at someone’s work, the muscles beneath his shirt ripple and contract. I can see his shoulder blades from here, and I’m failing to recall a time when the definition of someone’s spine has ever called for my attention. 

I shake my head, naïvely expecting that to clear my mind. Google is pulled up on my laptop, but instead of searching for The Tropic of Cancer, I press the keys in Harry’s name. 

The first couple links that pop up are social media accounts. I avoid these and move on to the next option, a link going back to our school. It takes me to his name under the directory, nothing more than a profile picture and his credentials. 

Harry Styles

Received his Bachelor of Arts in English Literature at New York University in 2016. He completed a one year internship at the Ann Rittenberg Literary Agency Inc. in New York in 2017, and in 2018, spent a year abroad in France and Italy studying classic literature surrounding the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries. He is currently working on his graduate degree, assisted professional teaching placement, and his thesis on the cultivation of the Renaissance era in regards to English literature. 

I read over everything three times. That’s how long it takes me to grasp it all. He’s accomplished more in three years of his life than I have in my entire existence. It’s weird, being in my twenties and already feeding off the desire of wanting to be young again. It’s not fair how some people are prone to achievements and winning, while the rest of us are left to scramble around, years later to piece together a life that offers a sliver of satisfaction. 

I close the window and ineptly click on one of his social media accounts, and for some reason my stomach twists. There’s a picture of him on twitter, from this weekend. He’s at Truman’s with his arm around Danielle, a smile on his face, and a caption thanking her for getting him his job. They’re both pretty; perfect for each other really. The only thing I can think of being thankful for in this moment is that I was not included in their picture. No one needs to see that comparison; I provide myself with enough pity to feed an army.

And maybe it’s stupid, but I navigate to Danielle’s account. There’s a weird fraction in the self-loathing lifestyle, like my brain needs a reminder of where I stand in this world. It keeps me in check, I believe. I cannot imagine thinking I look good, only to be reminded that I don’t in fact, look anything close to good. That’s a big fall to take, and I prefer to spend my time at the bottom. I’ve earned my place here.

I zoom in to every picture. Have you ever compared your wrist to someone? Or the space where your neck meets your shoulders? She has a big, red birthmark on her hip, but she makes it look necessary. And I’m sure Harry probably likes it. And I’m sure she’s told him how she’s no longer ashamed of it, and she’s not afraid to wear bikinis because she doesn’t care what people think. And she probably thinks that’s what makes her different and that’s the story she tells, how she overcame insecurity and loves her body now. And she would probably tell me that I just need to learn how to accept my flaws and learn to love them and then I’ll finally be happy like her. But that’s stupid, even stupider then me scrolling through her account to find some awkward picture, maybe one where her nose and lips are less perfect and I can start saving up for surgery too. Because if I looked like her, I’d have no problem being happy. I’d post pictures on the beach, and find a boyfriend, and not feel like a pathetic loser who’s done nothing with her life.

“Are you writing your report on Danielle?”

I lurch with stiff bones, and now I can’t remember if I’ve had this headache all day or if Dr. Pierce’s voice triggered it. Shamefully, I close the browser. “No, I’m sorry.” I hope that’s enough, because it’s all I can afford to give right now. Maybe if he knew I was seconds away from crying he’ll leave me alone.

“Get back to work please.”

Just make it ‘til you get home. You can cry there. Not here. Not here. Not here.

***

I tediously lower my body so that the water pulses right below my chin. My knees are covered, but only if I remain motionless, or the water will break against my skin and then my knee caps will appear suddenly. I inch my feet further across the acrylic until they are hidden once again. 

There is a window extending from the floor beside the tub all the way up, over my head so I have a view of the street below as well as the sky, and it’s always quite a contrast. If the street is busy, then the sky is not. But then if the sky has a heavy to-do list, then it’s the road below me that becomes shallow, except when rain is falling in a race to its demise against the concrete. 

I suck in a breath that’s full of my shampoo and bodywash and the rose oil I dropped in twenty minutes ago. I can taste it in my lungs, so before it becomes too much, I push against my heels, my knees forming mountains as they break the surface and my head becomes consumed a moment later. The pressure is light, just enough; I’m more aware that I’m living than I did when oxygen was flowing through my lungs. I count to ten and then release the burn as I crash upwards. It’s a bit dramatic and cinema worthy, but there’s no one watching; even the city-goers are too far below me to care that I live here. 

“Is my phone in there?”

I drag my eyes open and sure enough, Jessie’s phone sits on the counter. “Come in!”

“Oh thank God, thought I left it at that party.” She picks her clothes from last night off the floor and throws them in the hamper. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“And why’s that?”

I shrug, but she doesn’t see me, now straightening up the mess she made of her toiletries, her back to me while she shoves everything into her drawer.

“Just one of those nights I guess.”

She peaks over her shoulder and hums. “You have a lot of those.” She turns fully, looking at me like she is a mother. I rack my brain for an excuse but I can’t find one. If I did, I would’ve tried it out on myself years ago. “Y’know I’m here to talk. I’m your best friend...that’s part of my job.”

I smile at the water, but turn away when I see my reflection. “I’m fine. Just getting used to the semester.”

She lets the defeat show on her face, and I’m glad I know how to mask mine. “Alright then. Well just text me if you need me. I’m always here for you.” Her voice is soft and patient and I feel guilty for lying to her. “I’m late for cello practice.”

“I’ll be fine. Gonna enjoy my day off.”

“And actually enjoy it! No studying, no flash cards!” She laughs when I roll my eyes. “I mean it. Go to the park, eat a pint of ice cream, masturbate, please, anything outside of those notebooks of yours!”

“I’ll add those to the list,” I laugh. “I’m probably just gonna stay home and relax. Watch Uptown Girls or something. Eat cookie dough.”

“And—”

“And masturbate I know.”

She kisses my head and grabs her phone, heading out the door, her voice fading as she leaves. “You can tell me all about it later.”

The tile is cold beneath my feet, and slick with warning as I pull the plug on the drain and take a moment to scan the world outside. The sun is in attendance today, some of its beams make their way into the bathroom and have crawled across the floor all morning. I decide to stand there, on the beams to warm my toes slightly. It’s probably more in my head, the warmth, but I’ll take it either way. The tiles are black and white, a classic checkerboard, and I gave up on choosing a color to step on not long after we moved in. 

The mirror is foggy and I work fast to wash my face and brush my teeth, keeping my towel tight around myself until the last possible second, trading it’s warmth for a sweater and jeans. I slip into my shoes. I haven’t read much for leisure, and pick up my copy of Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl from my bookshelf before I leave. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it, but each time never fails to reward me with something I didn’t catch the last time. 

***

There’s a park within walking distance from my apartment. I like to go there in the rain sometimes, under my green umbrella, and read literary magazines with a thermos of coffee Jessie made me. I look like the adult that I’m supposed to be. I don’t think anyone ever notices, which isn’t much different then the expectations I lay out for myself the night before. 

Today, however, I am not walking to the park. I am taking a train to the park. The park—Central Park. And it’s not raining and I forgot to bring coffee, but I need today. I need to do something for myself. Something outside my comfort zone. That’s how you become a better person, right?

We don’t have subways back home. There isn’t much of anything back home other than high school football games, car washes, and stray cats that everyone feeds. The first time I rode the train I cried. Jessie told me that it was okay, and that’s why I did it the next time, and the time after that. I’m not going to cry today, though. I am not going to get overwhelmed and worry about when to get on and when to get off and who’s looking at me and how I wouldn’t be able to help anyone if they get mugged or how if I trip and fall on the platform, I’ll start praying for death. 

Light flashes at a rhythm I’m unfamiliar with, but I manage to keep my focus on my book. It shakes in my hands but I keep reading. I’m not really reading, in its true form, that is. I’ve marked this book up so much I could use it as confetti, and those are the parts I’m reading. The parts that meant something to me at each stage of my life: I used a green pen at age eleven, red sharpie at fifteen, blue highlighter at twenty, and ripped sticky notes at twenty-three. It’s less of a commitment this way, but when the screeching travels up my spine and I can smell something other than people when I’m back on solid ground, I wipe my cheeks and they’re dry. 

When I lie in bed at night and think over the many sins and shortcomings attributed to me, I get so confused by it all that I either laugh or cry: it depends on what sort of mood I am in. Then I fall asleep with a stupid feeling of wishing to be different from what I am or from what I want to be; perhaps to behave differently from the way I want to behave.

I have a plan in place. One that I didn’t feel comfortable telling Jessie even though I know she’d be supportive. That’s the conundrum; having a best friend who loves you so much they want to fix you. She would have tagged along today, asked me how I’m feeling a million times and try to rationalize everything. She’d tell me all the ways I can be happy. But she can’t do that. No one should be allowed to, really. Because if you say can then there also has to be the option of can’t. And if people had the choice to pick what state their mind was in every day, I wouldn’t be strolling around parts of New York I’ve never been in, trying to scrounge up some off-handed version of self-love.

I bought a bath bomb and candles, stopped at a stationary store to pick up pens and notebooks that I don’t need, another Beatles t-shirt and chocolate. A farmer’s market was selling fresh fruit and I bought a tomato and ate the whole thing right there. I don’t care that it’s cheap retail therapy. It’s blocking out school and certain people and my age and my lack of success as an adult. And maybe it’s not working, but it’s New York—there’s distractions everywhere. And that’s exactly what I’m doing today. 

***

Liberty Island. That’s where the Statue of Liberty is. I am stupid for thinking Staten Island, but in my defense, that’s where everyone outside of New York thinks it is. When I moved here I wanted to see it. It was going to be this defining moment that solidified me in my new home, this incredible rebirth that validated me leaving my parents. I was going to buy cheap postcards and send them to my mom and I’d say See, I’m here and I’m happy. This was the right choice. I fit in. Please stop crying. At least I didn’t think it was Ellis Island. 

I’m on the right ferry heading towards the right island. Soon, I really see her and I start crying. She’s green but she’s not green, and she’s copper but also not really. She’s this woman and that’s fucking cool, except I know had she not been a gift, she would have been a man. There is someone with a microphone talking about her but the wind burns my ears so I pull up google on my phone. 

The Babylonian Ishtar, Imperial Rome’s goddess Libertas was Papal Rome’s “Mother of the Harlots and abominations of the earth” and the template for America’s Statue of Liberty.

I paid to visit the pedestal but not the crown. I don’t trust my body to climb twenty stories. I don’t wanna know what I’ll think about that high up. I saved up and bought a reservation and now that I’m here, I wish I’d brought Jessie along. I wish I had more people to choose from to bring along because this isn’t Jessie’s thing. But that was the idea, after all, to keep this day to myself, venture out, mark something off a bucket list I haven’t started yet. Distractions, distractions, distractions.

My bags are heavy and it’s hot, but I manage to read a lot of plaques and stroll around intentionally. I do, at certain moments, feel a sort of liberation with myself. Kind of like the first time you go out driving on your own. It’s scary, and a part of you still wishes your mom was behind the wheel, but that kind of being alone is freedom. It’s not the car or the license, it’s the option to be fully by yourself at any time. 

And I can’t help but wonder, compare, really, myself to the woman who I’m wandering around below her dress. She does lonely well. She does it right. All by herself she stands, a beacon, a purified symbol. And this is where I’m at, apparently, scrutinizing my abilities at making loneliness look mature and comparing myself to a statue.

Truly, this is my day. 

I take pictures of everything around me and it must be the sea air, because I do contemplate asking this dad of four kids to take one of me. I push that out of my head rather quickly. I switch the filter to black and white and angle my phone to get a photo overlooking the harbor once I’m back outside, but stop right in my tracks, when a familiar face is in the frame. 

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re here! What a small world!”

Dozens of names swim around my head, and my courtesy smile eases into a real one once one of them starts flashing, matching this person’s face before I make a fool of myself. 

“Devon, hey, s’been a while.”

“I know, God,” she shakes her head in disbelief, “high school feels like a century ago.”

She looks the same, only like a new version. Not exactly older or more mature, but like she stopped experimenting with makeup and her acne finally calmed down. All of her features sit on top of her face, warm, eyes just as piercing as when we were seventeen. She was always cute and that quality has followed her over the years. 

“So what are you doing?” she asks and I squint because of the wind, imagining her words rearranging in the breeze into something easier to answer. 

“Um, just sightseeing.”

“Well I figured that,” she laughs. “I mean, your life, what’s up?”

I know my face looks resistant. Everyone pulls the same look when your stuck explaining something that is going to automatically lower the standard in which the other person sees you: nearly closed eyes, barred upper teeth while your top lip pulls up in thought, sucking in a short breath before speaking, stiff neck and chest. 

“I uh, well I’m still in school,” I nod along and loosen my volume to sound like I’m happy. “And uh, working.”

“Oh are you working on your masters?”

“No just um, maybe one day, but not right now.”

“Okay.” It is that ‘okay’. The you-are-turning-pathetic-right-before-my-eyes Okay. She smiles anyway. “I’m thinking of going back next year to get my doctorate.” She shrugs. “So do you live here, or…”

“Yeah, yeah, I got a scholarship—”

“Oh well that’s good!”

“Uh huh.”

“We’re just visiting. Trying to hit all the hot spots though.”

“We?”

“Me and my fiancé. She’s—” she cranes her neck and points to somewhere behind her, “on a work call at the moment. Y’know it’s beautiful here, I wonder if we could have the wedding right here,” she laughs. 

“Yeah that would be something.”

“So, are you seeing anyone?” 

“Not at the moment.”

She gasps like she’s discovered something and points at the air between us. “Wait, weren’t you dating that guy, the uh, really smart one who graduated early? God, what was his name, Mark or Matt?”

“No that uh, that wasn’t me.”

“I could’ve sworn it was,” she laughs. 

“Nope.”

“Aw, bless your heart, well you’ll find someone. The city’s big!”

I am done with this conversation. I force a smile and excuse myself, heading off in the opposite direction so if any tears fall she won’t see, and keep to myself until it’s really cloudy and mist pricks my skin. Not soon enough, we’re boarding the ferry again. 

I wave to Lady Liberty and imagine her waving back when we leave. If I squint, it kind of does. Whether she’s saying goodbye or good luck, I don’t know.

***

Dinner is one of those meals that either means everything or nothing. Tonight it means nothing. I walk past Truman’s, slowly. Harry isn’t in there and I stop right outside the plated glass window, now decorated with orange and yellow leaves, and try to figure out if I would’ve gone in had he been there. A band is setting up along the back wall and that’s where I see Danielle. She’s got a tray of drinks that each member takes. When she spins around she’s smiling and she smiles as she walks towards the hostess’ podium and she smiles when she squeezes the hand of some guy that comes up and she smiles when she sees me. 

I wave because what else am I supposed to do. If I flip her off, she might strangle me with her extensions, or tell Harry that I was a bitch, or spit in my food the next time I come in. I wait till she’s distracted, and then I leave. I stop at a food truck and stuff my face with a taco. Nothing. 

Back down the street, back on the train, back to my apartment. 

“I didn’t cry this time.”

Jessie glances up from sliding the bow across the strings, the last note stinging the air. She looks so small next to the instrument. 

“On the train. I didn’t cry.”

****************************************************************************************

Next Chapter

Let me know what you think!

Thank you to my wonderful beta readers @aileenacoustic and @bathrobesinparadise!!!!!!!!!

#ta!harry #burning words #harry styles #harry styles writing

[xlady-saya]

I want this touch to be familiar [Ch. 2]

Relationships: andrew/neil, side aaron/katelyn

Summary: Deep down, Andrew knew he would always reach this crossroads, a time where the thought became too strong to ignore.

Going all the way with Neil. It’s not something he can continue to avoid thinking about. When Andrew looks back to the days where he held Neil’s hands down, when he never got off with him in the same room, he’s forced to acknowledge how much he’s allowed.

Not allowed. Welcomed. Wanted.

But that’s not all there is to it, and the desire to make a decision finally makes itself known.

Tags: first time fic, p*rn with feelings, relationship study, fluff and communication, multichapter

Read on ao3!

Andrew is a planner.

This is one thing he's not afraid to admit about himself; most events in his life have been unplanned, disastrous things which he can only try to wrangle in the moment they make themselves known. However, if he has the time and foresight, he's much more inclined to plot out every move, making sure there are no slip-ups. Minimal error.

Thinking about and minimizing the damage to himself is new, since beforehand he wouldn't bother to care. In this case, his own reactions are things he'll have to deal with in the moment, since his limit here is unknown. He's never done this with anyone.

For now, his sole focus becomes Neil.

Of course, he knows with something like this it's impossible to get it perfect. He's more experienced than Neil, despite the fact he's never been intimate with someone on his own terms; he knows how it works, knows what to expect and all the ways it can go wrong.

He knows it most likely will be uncomfortable the first time, but can he make the good outweigh that?

At the thought, Andrew grumbles to himself, shaking his head over his cup of coffee. It's been a few weeks since that initial conversation, and his head has been a balancing act of sexual tension and precaution. He's planning as if he's made up his mind, though it's the farthest thing from the truth.

But, necessary. He needs to treat this like it's real, or it'll never sink in.

And well, the sexual part of it feels very real. His overactive mind has made sure to spin the fantasy at him almost daily, and he's been powerless against it. The thought of Neil splayed out in front of him is not something he'll ever be adverse to. Lately, Andrew's libido has spiked, doubling from what is normal. If Neil knows the reason, he hasn't chosen to comment on it, and just seems happy to satisfy Andrew in whatever way he can.

A curl of warmth unfurls in his chest, and he slides his gaze over to where Neil sits on the floor, legs kicked up as he runs through his calculus homework. The gym shorts he has on slip a little, revealing odd patterns of discoloration. Andrew can only assume they're burns.

He's real, so painfully real Andrew feels the need to shield him from a threat that's not even there. Neil isn't scared of him, Andrew isn't scared of Neil. For all their hostility, they fit.

They prepare for the worst, gentleness often escapes them, and they've never minded each other's harshness.

Even still...

Silently, he pours Neil a cup of coffee into the god awful fox mug Nicky made him at Color Me Mine, the eyes sagging and crossed, and sets it beside him on the floor.

Neil’s head tilts up just enough to smile sleepily at him, and Andrew's insides twist painfully. Harshly, he pushes Neil's head down, back to his homework, and tries not to let the soft laugh cloud his thoughts anymore.

For all his severity, none of which Andrew is ashamed of, he finds himself itching to give Neil the opposite. And he does, when he thinks about it. Andrew tries his best not to roll his eyes; Neil ends up being right at the most annoying times.

Andrew wouldn't mean to hurt him, it's true. Andrew would never willingly hurt Neil these days, he simply doesn't have the capability. But intention is seldom enough for him. He'll do this right; it's the reason he's set up a plan in the first place.

Yet, plans are hard to keep together. Steps should be easy to follow, checked off.

1. Talk to Bee

2. Talk to Roland

3. Do his own research

Simple, direct; that's what Andrew thought when he put the plan into action. Bee would be able to reveal the things Andrew could not yet see, pick his brain until the maze had a map. Roland would have experience with this, he'd be able to tell Andrew what it's like when it's consensual, the do's and don'ts. From then on, Andrew should've been able to piece the puzzle together and fill in the gaps with cold, hard information. There's only so much he can do to prepare, but he'll cover all his bases.

The plan was supposed to do all that, but hiccups forever plagued Andrew's life. Bee's words were weights, necessary, still sitting with him even now. And Roland, well, that had almost gone well.

At the memory, Andrew glares. The night before, he'd gone to talk with Roland alone, no stress or obligation to keep an eye on his family while he tried to sort this out. He told Neil, wrapped around him in bed, because it's not something he felt ashamed sharing. The reasoning was another story.

And Neil, stupid, understanding Neil, hadn't even questioned it, blindly trusting Andrew to tell him later. It would be agonizing, but Andrew would do it.

Keeping things from Neil nowadays is almost like an allergy, irritating.

It should've been uneventful. At most, he expected Roland to be obnoxious about it, which he was...

"Ohoho, it's about time indeed," the bartender crowed above the loud music of the club, spilled alcohol sticking to Andrew's boot soles. He grit his teeth. Andrew tried his best not to give too much away when he asked Roland to follow him to the backrooms, but Roland's shocked face when he brought it up forced Andrew’s hand.

It wasn't like that, it wouldn't ever be like that again and Roland knew it, was probably worried something had happened with Neil to make Andrew seek out something physical.

So naturally, Andrew told him the gist of his situation, his intentions to go all the way with Neil, and Roland had run away with it in triumph. The bartender's smirk made Andrew want to turn around and walk right out of there immediately. As if sensing Andrew's need to retreat, Roland leaned closer into his personal space, never a fast learner.

Andrew doesn't know what he ever saw in him.

"Shut up and let's go," Andrew growled in the small space between them, and Roland laughed at his expense without care. Andrew had to remind himself Roland was his only direct resource, unless he wanted to ask Nicky, which he would never do.

Whatever, Andrew would not have this conversation in public.

"Alright, alright lover boy," Roland sighed, raising his hands with a wink. Andrew employed Neil's tactic for a moment, counting to ten in German. "I'm just happy for you. C'mon."

Andrew didn't bother to respond to that.

The relief that took root in Andrew's chest was short lived, so short lived he didn't even have to shove it down himself. He pushed off the counter to follow Roland through the throngs of drunk college students, the itch in his head gearing towards the information he was about to be given, when he saw her.

The one and only, Ms. I doodle my last name as Minyard in my notebooks--Katelyn.

Andrew froze; and saw the exact moment she knew she'd been caught. She was midstep, legs locked in an awkward position, but she didn't seem to be aware. It would've been satisfying, seeing Aaron's cheerleader so thrown off if it weren't for the look on her face. Andrew could see the assumptions swimming there before the idiot was probably even aware of them, her eyes, so close in color to Neil's but not the same at all, glancing between him and Roland.

For a brief moment, cruelty sparked in Andrew's veins at being read in such a way; it was foreign, this particular anger. He never cared before what people thought of him, least of all Aaron's perfect girlfriend. Andrew knew people thought he was a monster, it never mattered, because Neil didn't.

Yet, the whole reason he was there at all was to avoid hurting Neil as much as possible, so the suspicion on Katelyn's face made him want to commit murder. He might've, but then the idiot rolled her ankle, preserving the progress he'd made with Aaron over the past year and a half.

He couldn't kill her, he couldn't leave her there either.

Aaron's words echoed in his skull; 'Our feelings are the same.'

So inconvenient, so annoying, but so impossible to avoid.

Andrew remembers glancing back at Roland, knowing they wouldn't be having that talk after all, not right then. He remembers his skin crawling as he hauled Katelyn into his car, her words setting him on edge but reminding him that some people still had the capacity to surprise him.

The word 'love' tossed into the mix of mayhem.

Katelyn had put a lot of unnecessary thoughts in his head, but Andrew came back from that night clear headed, not necessarily about the sex situation, but about how he had been handling it.

Guess she isn't totally useless.

Speaking of...

"Good morning!" Katelyn sing-songs into the living area, and Neil flinches from the abruptness. The old instinct to run is hard to bury, and Andrew watches reality settle in as his muscles go slack again. Andrew misses the peace already, but he's the one who left the door open for Aaron in the first place.

Katelyn waves at Neil sheepishly for having spooked him, hopping along on her better ankle to lean against the small counter. Andrew rolls his eyes internally from how Aaron hovers, always there in case Katelyn decides to do another swan dive to the floor.

There's a pause then, one which isn't usually there. Katelyn's eyes land on Andrew and stay there, which in itself is odd. Up until this point, their understanding has been clear. Normally, Katelyn would ignore him, keep her distance. She still does, staying out of his immediate bubble. Yet, this time she offers him a genuine smile, and Andrew hopes last night hasn't given her any ideas about how things are going to be from now on. "Hi Andrew."

Ah, but looks like it has. Great.

Despite the twitch this realization causes, Andrew only hesitates momentarily before he offers her a nod, and ignores the way his brother blanches. Katelyn, thankfully, doesn't treat it as more than what it is, and carries on with whatever breakfast concoction she has in mind. A cook, she is not, and Andrew has no intention of eating it.

He feels Neil's smug smile in the corner of his eye, and dutifully ignores it in favor of watching his brother move seamlessly around his girlfriend. They touch purposefully, and often, like a dance with added steps just for the sake of staying close.

Aaron's arm slides against Katelyn's lower back, and she bites her lip, a blush rising to the tops of her ears. It's not subtle, but it's also not something anyone would bat an eye at.

Why Andrew can see the difference, he isn't sure, but it's there. There's a clinginess between them, more than usual, a product of Aaron's protectiveness and something else.

Looks like after Matt and Dan had fallen asleep, someone else in that dorm had decided to get handsy.

Andrew stuffs down his disgust at the thought; he seldom agrees with Nicky, but thinking of Aaron having any kind of sex is abhorrent, worse when it's straight.

His brother makes it seem so simple though, doesn't he?

He and his twin spent so many years being on the opposite ends of everything that their recent developments make Andrew even more painfully aware of how they're different. They're learning to share things in common without so much teeth pulling, but Andrew knows this is one area Aaron could not understand.

Andrew isn't jealous or resentful, he's just not like Aaron in that way. He's sure his brother and Katelyn had sex soon after meeting, long before it turned into something he'd risk Andrew's wrath over. He's also sure it's not something that keeps Aaron up at night, or wracks him with guilt afterwards. Watching them interact now, post intimacy, makes that clear enough. Aaron wants her and he's happy to want her, there's nothing else to it. Aaron's own insecurities are a monster, that much he knows, but they're not always in line with Andrew's.

Aaron is not afraid to want, and he trusts himself not to hurt.

This observation, coupled with his conversation with Katelyn, leaves Andrew with little room to avoid the real reason for his plan.

Realistically, Andrew knows he's been setting up roadblocks intentionally. Talk to Bee, setback, another setback, step two, back to step one, and so forth. With this process, there's essentially no way for this to not be dragged out to hell and back.

Annoyingly, he hears Renee's voice in his head, "be patient with yourself," but that's not it at all. The steps are more than just precautionary measures or even speedbumps. No, he can't try to convince himself that he put them there to pace himself, to make sure it's what he really wants.

To want, to want, to want.

That's the thing. He knows what he wants, but part of him thought that with enough time, enough pause, he wouldn't anymore. Then, he could fall back on an old habit, push it away and pretend he doesn't care about the fallout.

He'd been giving his brain ample time to ruin this for him too. To remember that wanting is dangerous, disappointing, not worth the consideration or effort. That maybe, impossibly, if he gave himself room to fortify a new wall, he'd no longer crave Neil's everything. Then, hurting him wouldn't have to be a worry at all, because he simply wouldn't care.

But alas, he's caught himself at the end of his rope, and he should know better. He's known better since Baltimore. Because even now, his head buzzing with conflict, one fact stands out as sturdy as before.

He wants Neil. In every way, every part, all the ugly, spiked edges and harsh temper. Nothing has ever sounded better and he hates it. He hates to feel like this, but he won't try to stop.

Why?

"Andrew, what you feel is normal," Bee's saccharine voice trickles through his head, words from the last two sessions when she helped him piece through all this. Or, maybe he should say she gave him the reins. Bee knows him by now, knows Andrew prefers to do most of the work once pointed in the right direction, even if it's something he hates to admit.

What I feel is normal? Yes, yes, I know Bee.

Pleasure, joy, contentment. The lack of exposure to them all for so long means he doesn't know how to process them, according to Bee. In fact, the feelings become almost intolerable.

"As such, your instinct is to lash out at or banish these feelings. They're uncomfortable, maybe even upsetting for you."

He thinks of so many repeats of 'I hate you' and 'this is nothing.' Thing is, those weren't lies. He needed Neil to be nothing, even when he knew it was impossible. He'd crossed the line into dangerous territory again, and Neil had happily jogged over next to him.

Neil's the only one who's ever followed without question.

He means it though; he hates to want. He wonders if it's because it all feels too good to be true, that if he doesn't tell himself he hates it, he'll have to finally acknowledge how good it feels.

How Neil makes him feel.

He can't accept that, not yet. But he will take a different step forward.

Katelyn prattles on about her schedule for the week, and Andrew can't hold her ramblings against her in this case. Labs and practice will keep her and Aaron apart for most of the week; Andrew used to crave the alone time, now...

With the sounds of pots and pans joining the chorus of Katelyn's chatter, Andrew walks over to Neil with intent clear. Funny, how he expected this revelation to be a lot less anticlimactic. But here they are, on a Sunday morning, the smell of burnt toast wafting through the air.

Neil looks up when Andrew sits beside him, catching whatever must be on Andrew's face and tilting his head. He's not sure how Neil does it, doesn't think to ask. Neil won't stop anyways if Andrew tells him too.

Because...

"What you value is understanding."

Yes, this is something Andrew will not be rid of anytime soon, Neil Josten will not go away. The little thrill which runs through him at the thought is not something he'd ever think he'd feel this much again. It intensifies as the days go, and everyday he loses more of the energy to stop it.

He can feel Bee smiling that damn smile, all the way from here.

Andrew digs his thumb into Neil's already open palm, waiting for his sleepy grin, and gets rid of all the roadblocks.

I want this, he repeats, and holds Neil's gaze. I want you.

He fights back the automatic recoil, and notes how it's gotten easier to do so, to overshadow his need to pull away with his need to pull closer.

"Yes," he says, and for a moment Neil is so still Andrew wonders if Katelyn's laughter ate up the small word. From how Neil's eyes soften a second later, he knows they weren't. "I don't know when, but it's a yes."

Because they've always gotten through things in the past, together.

Neil's breath hitches, and his hand curls tight around Andrew's, the touch conveying more than words can. The world is still such a dark, unforgiving place, but on this Sunday morning their dorm room has a brightness to it. Andrew shrinks away from it, but is powerless to avoid it.

Andrew thinks it might solely come from Neil, but he's wrong.

"Breakfast," Aaron calls to the room with a sigh, all too carefree and happy with Katelyn next to him. Andrew briefly wonders if Aaron ever thought he'd get to that point, and it's something they share. Disbelief.

"Okay," Neil calls back, and it has a dreamy quality to it Andrew wants so badly to stamp out like a cigarette. He doesn't though, he can't. The word carries the smile on the striker's lips, and Neil buries his face in Andrew's sleeve, content to let their food get a little cold.

Without Andrew noticing, his fingers curl just as tight around Neil's too.

--

One thing Andrew cannot fathom about Neil sometimes is that there's no sense of pressure.

Andrew made up his mind about going all the way that very morning, over a week ago with Neil resting his head in his lap and eventually wriggling a little too purposefully to be cute anymore. Andrew nearly snapped at Aaron and Katelyn to get lost, but then Neil would've won.

Considering how cheeky Neil looked later on, Andrew's cock in his mouth, maybe he did.

And in the afterglow, there had been...peace.

Andrew's not sure what he expected; maybe Neil's impatience, a new layer of tension in their kisses, their touches, something saying go, go, go. The rush to dive in and get things over with before the thoughts tore him in two.

But there's not. There's nothing like that; no urgency in his head or a ticking clock telling him they need to do it before it's too late. Of course, he still thinks about it constantly, how could he not? He's only a man with an (admittedly) hot...boyfriend. A Neil. A very energetic and smart-mouthed Neil.

Closing his eyes, he can picture it, his memory a blessing for once with something from just the other day.

Andrew lets his hands follow the curve of Neil's ass, feeling the smooth skin, patches of it rough from road burn and other scarring. He digs his fingers into the one spot of Neil's lower back, swallowing Neil's gasp. Like a press of a button, Neil's back bends for him.

They're only making out, just kissing, and he's like this. Andrew is okay with just keeping things like this, it feels right.

"Andrew..." Neil moans, featherlight, so unlike his usual brashness. It makes Andrew's pulse spike, and he kisses back greedily, mind swimming. Neil wants him, he makes Neil feel good...

Neil makes him feel good.

"Quiet," Andrew scolds, muffled by the urgent press of Neil's lips. It's begrudgingly amusing, how stupid Neil is. He keeps going back in for another peck, one right after the other, provoking Andrew to just pin him and push his tongue into his mouth.

"Mm," Neil hums teasingly, and Andrew feels the glide of his fingernail along the column of his neck. Andrew can't help it, he gives Neil a grunt for that, the sensitivity overwhelming.

And Neil, so infuriating, smirks.

"You first," his junkie bites back, so predictable. He punctuates the taunt with a nip to Andrew's earlobe. Then it's cloudy, no, hazy, a dream.

Except Neil has proven time and time again he's the furthest thing from a dream; so real, so warm and solid. Andrew lets himself sink into the pleasure, and in these moments he doesn't realize he's falling, that he doesn't mind it.

"Andrew..."

Neil's voice is a fog Andrew has a hard time finding his way out of sometimes, and he leans his head back on the wall by his bed while the heat pools in his gut.

Oh yes, he thinks about this a lot, and he's too fixated on the feelings to put up a fight.

But it's not even just in these moments that he wants Neil, what once was so troubling is now simply reality...

He thinks of the redhead's sleep deprived yawns, long and drawn out enough to show the slope of his jaw. Anxious nibbling on the end of a pencil when he's focused on some stupid equation. Careful hands, patching up Andrew's bloody knuckles after sparring sessions. And not so careful hands, punching the first reporter to say something even remotely negative about Andrew outside the stadium.

Neil is so dangerous, in that Andrew wants all of him.

Yet, there's never an imperativeness to have all of him, to just lock them away for the weekend and see what all the fuss is about. No, he can savor different parts of Neil in innocent ways: the concerned touches, considerate glances, and wide grins...

And in filthy ways.

The slow stretch of his spine when he's doing warm ups, those yoga pants he wears on purpose around campus, the flick of a tongue against Andrew's biceps.

And still, neither of them feel the need to cross the line into new territory yet, not for lack of want, but for lack of good timing.

Point is, since the decision, he and Neil have done plenty of other things without the underlying question of taking it all the way. It leaves Andrew's stomach buzzing for different, non-anxious reasons. The absence of pressure, of force. It's as if now that everything is out in the open, Neil's presence is both a relaxant and a stimulant, and nothing they do together is bogged down by anything other than chasing the pleasure it brings them.

Even with Roland, when they were ready to experiment further, there was no point in waiting. No pacing. Andrew was typically ready to get it out of his system for the sake of his libido, never pushing himself too far but also not patient with himself either. He'd propose the next thing he wanted to try, made sure Roland's hands were out of the way, and acted accordingly. Quickly. Andrew did not savor.

Andrew would take what he needed from the sensations and that was that; his knees on the floor of Eden's, a heavy weight on his tongue. Roland was enthusiastic, reacting well to Andrew's touches as he got more experienced with time.

As for Andrew...

Sometimes he'd like it, sometimes not, and in those cases he'd put a stop to it and he and Roland would revert to whatever was quickest to get off. Efficient, enough for Andrew to feel the spike of control, to bring another man pleasure without putting himself at risk. Exerting power over someone, and having them like it.

It had all been controlled, because Andrew needed it to be. Many of those nights blur together now; he can remember them all, he does, but pulling those times to the forefront of his mind is not something he ever chose to do. It simply didn't affect him in that way, because Roland never got below Andrew's skin.

With Neil however…

Andrew can't help but imprint every gasp and arch into his brain to never be forgotten, to be spun into daydreams so vivid it's hard to keep still. In the mornings the thoughts drip into the front of his mind, Neil pressed close to him. Then when he's watching Neil run in the gym with strong legs, and it's like he feels Neil's legs tightening around him. When he's bored in class, the sounds of Neil's moans drown out the professor as the fantasies in Andrew's head take over.

With Neil it is pure, blinding pleasure. He savors more than he thinks he should, like there's a limited supply and he's going through an army's worth everyday.

Andrew prolongs sex with Neil as much as he can. He's never allowed himself to feel this with anyone. He couldn't. For once it's not just about gaining experience or getting off, it's all that with Neil and exploring all the ways to make him fall apart.

So, Andrew still blows him in the showers after practice and ruts against him in the backseat of the Maserati. And through it all, Neil doesn't wait or expect Andrew to bring up going all the way.

He just enjoys it, enjoys being with Andrew.

"I'm still convinced I dreamed you," he spits out later that night when they're making out on the floor. Making out is putting it innocently, since it's quickly progressing into Andrew grinding his hips into Neil's.

They haven't exactly had enough alone time for this, not for a few weeks, but Andrew tames his desperation for it as best he can. He can't be that vulnerable, and yet his hips are moving on their own accord.

With Kevin visiting Wymack and Nicky off studying, they're alone. They can take their time, and they don't hesitate to take advantage.

Andrew can no longer contain the caged animal.

Neil pauses briefly to look up at Andrew, sliding one of Andrew's hands under his shirt to touch him more. Andrew shivers at the silent request, thumbing at one his nipples while Neil tries to make words.

"D--Do you want me to be a hallucination?" Neil teases, and leans up to bite Andrew's bottom lip. Andrew pinches Neil's chest beneath his fingertips, logging away the breathy moan to recall later.

"No," Andrew snaps quickly, almost against his will, and Neil's grin is so annoyingly brilliant.

They both already knew the answer. He's not sure he could handle that at this point. Neil disappearing, like a ghost with only a compliment as a goodbye.

Not again.

As if to cement this fact, Andrew bucks forward, the friction dizzying. Again, it's been a little too long, and Andrew's movements betray it.

"Fuck Andrew," Neil says, reaching for Andrew's fly. It's already undone, his belt somewhere halfway across the room due to Neil's eager hands. Andrew had told him yes, and yet Neil's hand hovers just over Andrew's groin in a silent question. Andrew growls, leading Neil's hand under the waistband until it brushes the wet head of his cock, and they moan in sync this time.

"Andrew I want...fuck," Neil throws his head back, the frustration clear. Andrew can't help but feel the same; if he could make Neil fall apart in every way he would, but for now his body craves the friction, the desperation of his movements.

This is how he wants to get off, humping Neil into the floor.

"Use your words," Andrew breathes, swiping his thumb over Neil's lips. Neil's pink tongue flicks out, coaxing Andrew's fingers into his mouth and sucking.

Neil's eyes are so full of mischief, his response clear: sure about that?

Andrew gives a slow roll of his hips as Neil pumps him slow, pulling away when he senses Andrew's patience running thin. The striker's legs spread farther apart for him, letting Andrew slot them perfectly together. Neil wants it like this too, he realizes.

A shudder runs through him, overwhelming and definitely something he'd normally lash out against. But this feels too good in the moment to resist, his clothed cock sliding perfectly against Neil's, and the thought comes barreling through as the heat coils tighter and tighter.

It's just like the last time they did this. Andrew starts thrusting faster, the phantom of the real thing while Neil's back slides against the floor. Except this time...

This time what?

He watches Neil meet each thrust just as desperately, a few whimpers escaping and mixing with the few Andrew can't help but let loose. He looks absolutely debauched, with his shorts hanging off one leg and his underwear damp. Andrew takes a snapshot, sealing this Neil away in his head forever. Hungry, insatiable, junkie.

What if this was the real thing? Would Neil arch and writhe even more? Neil always feels too good to be true, even now. He'd be warm, Andrew knows it, his ass hugging Andrew's cock, so bent on making Andrew feel good. He'd probably be more reactive too, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. The fantasy floods in, and Andrew feels his heart rate pick up as his hips buck faster, the pace erratic and wild.

And that's the difference, isn't it? This time, Andrew doesn't feel strange to think about it, to imagine it. He's free to indulge, but should he, does he want to?

His cock twitches, and that's answer enough. The small ounce of hesitation is something Neil catches, because he throws Andrew a shaky smile as a bead of sweat drips down his forehead.

"You can think about it," Neil chokes out, voice raw and oh, it's doing a lot of things to Andrew which shouldn't be allowed. "I am too. Fuck, I want you to fuck me Andrew, so bad..."

Andrew surges forward, slotting their lips together. It's hardly a kiss, his tongue pinning Neil's down in a promise he can't say.

Me too, I want all of you.

The thought is so shocking, it doesn't make him recoil instantly. Something in him bends, snaps in two, and the only pause he gives is one used to manhandle Neil. He pulls him forward, so Neil is curled up at the perfect angle. Andrew does sometimes appreciate all the cheerleading stretches Neil borrows from Katelyn, he's so much more flexible now.

"Neil," Andrew breathes when he pulls back from Neil's lips, just his name. Neil's eyes widen, and Andrew wonders what kind of look he's wearing again. Can Neil see it all, how much Andrew really wants to rail Neil into the nearest surface?

It doesn't matter, his next movements make it obvious.

Andrew's hips piston forward until Neil is shaking apart, his orgasm pulling out a whine Andrew knows the neighbors can hear. He can't be bothered with it now, the unusual greediness he feels when it comes to Neil is second to his own rising pleasure. So close, so close--

Neil reaches up, boneless, and hums almost deliriously. Fixated, Andrew's eyes never leave the ring of blue in his eyes. Neil's fingers tap on Andrew's neck, right at the pulse. "C'mon, come for me."

Andrew does, it's obscene how fast he does. The words aren't even all the way out of Neil's mouth and Andrew doesn't have time to be upset with his orgasm coursing through him. His eyes close on their own accord, the feeling wiping out his sight for a few blissful seconds as he trembles. He's vaguely aware of Neil's hands on his muscles, feeling them clench with the aftershocks.

Andrew's stomach bottoms out, and he feels the rush all the way down his legs.

Never before, never this intense. Not with anyone but Neil.

He slumps forward, his body about as relaxed as it can be in Neil's arms. The urge to run after these moments isn't really there anymore, the need for separation either delayed or gone completely. It's the result of doing this...many times, and Neil's arms still rest loosely around Andrew, ready to let go the moment he needs it.

They lay like that for a few seconds, their pants echoing in the small space and Andrew licks the salt from Neil's neck. The striker has the nerve to give Andrew more space, welcoming all the marks. He doesn't even realize he'll be wearing sweaters for a few days in the blistering heat, if only to avoid Kevin's wrath.

Andrew pops off, satisfied with the fresh bruise, and savors the low whine he gets for it.

Eventually, he has to move, but less for the need to get cleaned up and more due to an odd feeling tugging at his abdomen. Neil's noises...they're troublesome for Andrew's self-control, and Andrew is sure Neil knows it.

The mess in Andrew's boxers is...a lot, and he grimaces as he shifts a little. He doesn't pull away completely, just to let Neil know he's alright, but he looks down at the striker with something swimming in his chest.

Neil's breathing is ragged, chest still heaving, and Andrew's eyes follow the trail of hickies he left on Neil's collarbone. The odd feeling hits him again, a simmering heat.

Unfinished.

Ah, so that's it. He gets it.

Andrew's eyes darken and he hears the moment Neil figures it out too. The redhead's throat clears, mixed with a moan as he sits up with Andrew. His eyes are still wide, pupils blown and covering icy blue in darkness. They're expectant, excited.

So, so much energy.

Andrew knows his smirk doesn't show on his actual face, but he has to fight real hard against it as he stands up. Neil licks his lips, tracking the movement as Andrew pulls the waistband of his boxers forward. He's a mess; his cock is slick with his own cum, globs of it sticking to the fabric. Without betraying his own emotions, he pulls himself out for Neil to see the state of him. In Andrew's head, the mantra repeats: you do this to me, you make me feel this way.

Neil's eyes get that hazy quality to them, the intense focus usually applied to games, and Andrew quirks a brow. Neil's glances keep flitting between Andrew's face and his dripping cock, not sure where to look, but eager nonetheless. His mouth is already open, ready. The fire in Andrew's gut is no longer simmering, it's back in full force. Not yet satisfied, not done.

His cum is about to start dripping on the floor when he finally takes pity on them both.

"Hey," he says, almost innocently, and Neil freezes. "Clean up your mess."

And oh, Neil certainly does.

--

Appropriately, Andrew is peckish after this, and Kevin had once again gone through the trouble of throwing away all his candy.

Honestly, Andrew could kill him at this point. Their deal is over, but then he'd have no reason to drag Neil out after 10 p.m. to try desserts Andrew knows he'll hate. His reactions make Andrew's chest feel fuzzy, and as uncomfortable as it is, he knows it's not a bad feeling or a particularly overwhelming one. Therefore, it's best to use for exposure therapy.

He's making Neil taste baklava at some 24-hour dessert bar when he says the words, unprompted and lazy, but it doesn't feel less right. For whatever reason, their moments of mundanity seem to coax the most monumental things out of Andrew, probably because they're the most grounded he ever feels.

Neil's hair is still a mess from their activities, that coupled with his scrunched up nose at the sweetness of the pastry is so routine, so familiar, it softens Andrew's edges. Andrew's fingertips are sticky from the syrup, but there's nothing filthy about watching Neil's lips wrap around them when Andrew feeds him the bite. It's so oddly cliche and cheesy, Andrew can't believe he did it without realizing.

Neil sticks out his tongue in disgust as he chews, pushing the rest of the pastry at Andrew in favor of his boring gummy bears (Andrew made him get something), when Andrew tilts his head to look at him. Really look.

He doesn't know what he's searching for, and he doesn't find it. It's a relief; Neil is the same, and it's such a comfort Andrew has to force it down.

His brain, always the betrayer, whispers: This is it.

It's not said in a romantic, or even joyful way. It's simply stating a fact; he won't have this again, and won't pursue it.

Neil's eyes soften when he catches Andrew staring, but doesn't call it out like he normally would. The striker rests his head on his arm, blue eyes shining under the shitty diner lights. They're back to normal, all ice, all color. His hand slides across the tabletop to brush Andrew's, not quite linking, but a constant. An 'I'm here' just because he feels like it.

The ease in Neil's eyes, brought on by all their exertion and from Andrew's presence, is so unlike the desire from earlier. It's apparent, but not jarring. This side of Neil is still one he knows, one he's come to expect without meaning to. There's something so innocent about it, so genuine, the words overflow.

"Neil," he says, even though he already has Neil's undivided attention. He wonders what kind of face he's making to get that kind of reaction, but then assures himself he doesn't want to know. He can't handle that yet. He clears away the tightness in his throat as best he can without acknowledging that it's there, and lets the realization wash over him. "Next time we're alone."

He's ready to try if Neil is. He knows Neil will understand what he's referring to. It's both a proposition and a promise, and Neil reads it easily.

He blinks, sitting up in that way which reminds Andrew of an actual fox. If Neil had the ears they would perk up, alert. His fingers inch forward, between the spaces Andrew has left for him already.

"You're ready?" Neil asks, voice quiet but resounding in the deserted shop. Andrew shivers, but knows the answer. He's known for a few days, but only now does he feel up to admitting it.

"Yes."

There's not much more he needs--or wants--to say. This is his decision; the mess in his mind is still there. The image of hurting Neil, or old memories surging forward in the heat of the moment. The shock of being so connected to someone, so vulnerable. It's all still there, making his skin crawl.

But then Neil looks at him like this, a mix of lust and some other emotion he won't name (won't assign Katelyn's stupid definition to) and it becomes a factor. Despite all the mess, Neil is someone he can trust and someone who trusts Andrew.

They want this, that's enough.

"Neil," he says when Neil has been quiet too long, that stupid look on his face, and watches him blush a brilliant shade of red.

"I--yes, yes of course I--" Neil stammers, and it's instinct for him to ground himself with Andrew's touch. His hand grips Andrew's tight, as if Andrew needs more convincing when Neil's tone is so excited. The striker's gaze turns firm, determined, and heat simmers in Andrew's chest once more. "I want that..."

No kidding.

"Stop being an idiot," Andrew snaps, but he tightens his hold on Neil's hand anyways. He's not sure who he's talking to.

Judging by the smile Neil is trying to force down, he knows it too.

"You have a thing for idiots," he whispers with a smirk, teeth pressing into his bottom lip, and oh yes, Andrew always knew this man was far too dangerous to keep around.

Too late now.

"Apparently," he sighs, feigning resignation. He leans against the back of the booth, and it's mostly so he can see all of Neil clearly. The disheveled clothes, the unruly hair, the sharpness. In reality, he's far from cursing his future in that moment. He's not sure if he can label the static in his abdomen and his head as excitement, but he has a feeling it's exactly that.

Troublesome, and much too powerful to try and push away.

Satisfied, Neil smiles and leans back too. They don't stay separate for long; as soon as Neil's hand is off his, Andrew feels a strong leg press into his calf. He doesn't even flinch these days.

Neil poises to throw a gummy bear, and Andrew opens his mouth willingly to catch it, falling back into their easy routine of wasting time together. Long drives, stupid questions and stupider answers.

Andrew misses three out of the ten gummy bears, not really trying. It makes Neil laugh harder when he misses.

On the fifteenth throw, realization crosses over Neil's face, and he pauses. The smirk turns deadly, razor sharp. Andrew has never seen Neil so vengeful, and the excitement only grows when Neil speaks. "You know what this means?"

Andrew raises a brow, and Neil inhales, giddy with his own spite. "We can finally kick Kevin out."

And he automatically knows what Neil means. He recalls hours spent holed up in the stadium, making out with Neil and wishing they were cocooned in bed while Kevin sexiled them for time with Thea.

The word leaves Andrew's mouth, as deadly as Neil's expression. "Payback."

#andreil #all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten

[imfallingdown-icantwakeup]

Fishmonger’s Daughter

Jaskier had a life that he walked away from to become a Bard. He has travelled across the Continent both by himself and with his Companion, Geralt of Rivia. What happens when they happen upon a familiar town and find a familiar face? Slow burn Jaskier/OC Reader-insert type

Chapter one: Mad world

Word count: 3515

“One stop. That’s all I’m asking for.” Jaskier pleads from behind his companion, legs creaking from under him with every step. “One measly stop, in a forgettable town, for one night that you won’t remember five years from now. But I will. I will write the most beautiful sonnet of this night. The moon, the stars- “Jaskier was no fool. He knew what he was signing up for by tagging along with the Witcher on his travels. He just remembers the White Wolf taking more stops to bathe. He couldn’t stand the onion smell that was reeling from them both any longer.

               “Will it get you to shut the fuck up?” Geralt grumbles from atop Roach, not even bothering to look at the bard. He knew Jaskier meant well. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t annoyed with the constant talking, singing and complaints. Even if it was better than travelling in silence.

               “Yes!” Jaskier exclaims, excited that Geralt finally understood that he had needs too as he extends his arms to enunciate his point. Finally. The road was long, however he walked quietly for the remainder of their journey. He didn’t want Geralt to suddenly change his mind and take his bath from him. The Witcher was pleasantly stunned and tucked that sacred piece of information away for later. A promise of bathing will make him quiet. Must be almost as good as sex after being stuck with him for so long, at this point.

They came to a familiar town that sat at the edge of a forest, and memories flooded Jaskier as he led the way to the inn, taking a short pit stop a resident tavern, for a ‘local specialty’ Jaskier insisted. Geralt followed wordlessly, asking no questions as to how Jaskier seemed to almost prance down the streets humming an older song, one that the Witcher hadn’t heard from him before. Peculiar. Seeing as Jaskier always had Geralt listen to him sing his new songs before he ‘serenaded’ the public.

Fucking always.

               Geralt tied Roach outside the inn, Bee and Barb. Unique enough. Jaskier had disappeared inside with a smile too wide on his face and that told Geralt nothing good. Only bad things could come from this if it made Jaskier so happy.

 ____________________________________________________________________________________

                 My mother used to tell me that my touch was ‘as light as a feather’s’. That I drifted through life as a pocket of air and that every move I made went unnoticed by those around me. My feet never touched the ground, my head in the clouds, a slight breeze being the only sign that I was even present. I was rarely acknowledged, my presence always overlooked by those around me.

It was Jaskier that told me it was only when I started to leave that people noticed me. It was when they clutched their chest, wondering why it was so much harder for them to breathe. He said that I had always given him the ‘breath of adventure’.

Adventure. His first true love. No matter how much I wanted that love to be me. It had been years since I’ve seen the man, but there was hardly a day that I hadn’t thought of him. His sweet goodbye under the tree, our tree we used to climb as young children, was the one memory I clung to most.

I remember the way he hugged me that day. The way his arms wrapped around me, and that it almost hurt, but in a good way- as if he wanted me to sink into him. It’s as if he wanted me to carve a hole into his chest and live there to travel the Continent with him, to keep inside of his body. I remember not breathing, I remember not needing to because for once someone else was doing it or me. For once, someone else was the warm breeze filling my chest with their air, the air of adventure. The whole memory brings nothing but joy to me now, but all I can think of is how much I read too much into things. How much I inference and want him to want me.

Thank goodness my mother wasn’t here to see how far I’d fallen since he had left our small town and subsequently, my life in its entirety. Five years was a long time for him to be gone. He had traveled and made a new life for himself and travelled the Continent. Fighting beasts, befriending Witchers and bedding women. All while I strayed five miles from your hometown to a slightly smaller village to become a local barmaid, waiting hand-and-foot on drunken patrons.

The day had been started out dull and rainy. It turned long and boring inside of the old inn, where everyone convened to seek refuge from the incessant raindrops. Nothing to do except bring beer and food to those who ordered. No new travelers to converse with. The Bee and Barb was popular in   this province for its up-and-coming bards, new faces every week trying to earn a name for themselves like their predecessors before them. After a while, all their voices seemed to blend in, the songs sounding the same. The melodies all had the same rhythm, the cadence of the words was too similar.

               Nothing like Jaskier’s songs.

               I push the thought to the back of my mind as I weave through the patrons, the tray high above my head as I push past drunken men and women to get to the table on the other side of the room. Mid-day to evening was always the busiest, and I couldn’t imagine why. I mean, sure, this is the cleanest establishment in town but that shouldn’t mean that these people should make my job impossible by being in the way all the time. I clear my tray with a smile, grabbing coins and slinging them into my pocket with a polite smile that was plastered on my face.

               A young lady was singing with her lute in front of a crowd as I made my way back to the bar and I swore that I saw a familiar shade of brown hair make its way to my counter. Strange. I hurry back seeing two customers waiting for me, one broad the other… Not so much. The broad one was dressed in black leather, weapons strapped along his back. Didn’t look like he needed them with his size. The other man was a tad shorter, less broad in build. His clothes were of a more vibrant color you noticed as he heaved himself onto a stool, turning his whole body sideways so his elbow rested on the bar, while also giving you a glimpse of his profile.

               I had to take a double look as I see a glimpse of him. There was no way. After all this time, Jaskier just happens to walk in here? Your Jaskier with his Witcher in tow, off to another hunt? It had been years since you had seen him. Would he recognize you as easily as you did him? You were best friends, once upon a time.

If only fairy tales ever did exist.

I feel like my feet are rooted to the spot while something pulls me forward, an invisible force. Destiny, maybe? Preposterous. It had been at least five years since you’ve seen the man. Since he went to make a name for himself and make a name he did.

               I slowly drudge over to the counter, head down as I walk behind, sliding the tray across to Theodora as I approach the bard and his companion, a mixture of anticipation and skepticism swirling it’s way though my veins at the sight of him. He hasn’t changed much. His eyes still a baby blue, lips that look to good to kiss, hair, albeit greasy, I would still love to run my fingers through. Although friends don’t want to run their hands through friend’s hair, do they?

               “Welcome. What may I serve you gentlemen tonight?” I ask, tone a bit rushed as I stare at the man with pale hair, my polite smile still stretched over my face. His eyes are a gold amber color as he stares right back, handsome face set in a soft look of reverence as he mulls over the words he’s about to say. This must be Geralt of Rivia. Just as he is about to speak, the Bard interrupts him, leaning between the two of us on the bar so I would be forced to look at him.

               “Does Vilod still make his homemade mead with the juniper berries mixed in?” Jaskier asks in a rush. My eyes turn down to him and a mischievous smile sparks on his face as our eyes meet. I nod at him meekly, not trusting my voice. Should’ve guessed that’s what he would ask for after all these years. Damn mead instead of where I am. “I know you.” He says, raising a finger whilst shaking it at me. I shake my head as my smile grows from nerves. Maybe I was important enough for him to remember, better than all those silly adventures he thought the world of. I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear as I glance down, clearing my throat as I tense under his gaze.

               “I get that a lot. But, no, I don’t thin- “I protest before I look up and see a light flash in his eyes. If I blinked, I swear I would have missed not only the look in his eyes, but his action. He jumps from his seat in a commotion, stool colliding to the floor with a loud ‘thunk’ from the force of his upheaval as he claps his hands together once before turning towards his companion, either ignoring or not noticing the annoyed glances from my patron around him and Geralt.

               “Thank you, Geralt. Really. Thank you,” He gestures to me then back to Geralt in a sort of quick introduction before continuing, “because it is you, Elowyn.” His voice takes on a new level of excitement as his baby blues lock eyes with mine and I giggle at him slightly, looking down before nodding at him. He obviously hasn’t learned of his affect on those around him yet. Good. That was one of my favorite things about him.

               “Yes, Jaskier. It is. You’ve been a long way from home.” I comment as I turn my back to get his mead, filling two mugs three-quarters of the way before I turn to get a couple of handfuls of berries from behind the counter. He says nothing in response as I get their drinks ready, possibly stunned to silence. I crush the berries before adding them to the top, making sure to add some honey in as well. I place the two glasses in front of the men, catching eyes with Jaskier before I see someone waving me over from behind him as I sigh heavily. For one night, one forsaken night, can’t I have just one decent conversation? If only, except that my night has just begun. “See you later, Jas.” I walk away, towards the drunken men and woman of the Bee and Barb. My only place in life, it seems.

               How dull and dreadful.

                 As he looked over to her, it suddenly stuck him how beautiful she was. Her hair was hanging loosely around her in waves, always in their perfect waves, reminding him of her laughter which was rich and dark like dwindling sunlight over the hills. He had the oddest impulse to run his fingers through the strands tenderly. Were they as soft as they looked? Would his fingers glide through easily or would they get caught on a knot, pulling her head back revealing her long pale neck? Would she allow him to do such an intimate act? He could picture her now. Head thrown back, eyes closed, full lips slightly parted moaning his name.

               He didn’t recognize her at first. Her head had been down, but the moment her eyes had connected with Geralt’s, he knew. In that moment Jaskier knew instantaneously who that woman was, whilst being enamored all he could do was keep asking himself ‘why’?

               Why did he ever leave?

               He needs to get closer to her, to see her better. Does she still have a scar under her chin from when she fell when she was nine? On her cheek, was there still a freckle in the shape of a heart by her temple? He leans on the counter, sitting in her path to the more handsome man. He didn’t know if he could bear her pining for the stoic man, it would kill him.

               “Does Vilod still make his homemade mead with the juniper berries mixed in?” HE can’t help but ask. This is the reason they came here in the first place, may as well humor Geralt. Show him what true mead tastes like.

“I know you.” His voice is filled with mirth as it floats through Geralt, making him stop in his tracks. The young woman shook her head as she blushed, and Geralt had a felling he knew their situation, if all too well. The smiles, the looks. Geralt looked between the bard and barmaid as she fetched their alcohol, ignoring Jaskier’s antics.

They look at each other as if they were almost lovers, like they should have kissed and made love and laughed in bed together, but they chose to stay friends instead. They looked at each other with what ifs and could haves, and all he can see in Jaskier’s eyes is regret. He can hear her heart pound in her chest, her breath quicken as she walks back. Was she feeling the same? Maybe both hearts were filled with regret. None of this was his business though, nor would he make it.

As she walked away from the pair of men, Jaskier couldn’t help his eyes from trailing after his newfound muse. Geralt, on the other hand, swiftly brought his tankard towards his lips, taking a hearty chug of the sweet mead. The Witcher would never admit it out loud, but maybe Jaskier was onto something about this homemade alcohol.

“She has to come with us.” The brunette blurts out, gaze never breaking from his long-lost friend. Geralt simply rolls his eyes with a soft ‘hum’, finishing the sweet drink before taking Jaskier’s from in front of him. “Her mother was a healer so she may prove useful in a pinch.” He continues, eyes finally moving to his companion. Geralt simply nods once at the bard, and he jumps in excitement, taking his tankard from Geralt. He finishes the drink and wipes his face before setting out to find this Elowyn to sweep her off her feet, although Geralt doubted she would simply drop her life and run away with a bard and a Witcher at the drop of a hat.

Spheres, how he wished he was right.

 It took little convincing from the bard to sway the sweet, sweet maiden to join their- well, Geralt’s voyage. Jaskier was just the public relations expert, swaying the outlook of the mutant to his fellow human beings. It wasn’t like Geralt wasn’t an unreasonable man. Grumpy, yes, but never unreasonable.

Her lips curled into a slight smile that radiated warmth through his whole being as her bright eyes stayed glued to his for a fleeting moment and damn did he love it. He was addicted already, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

They sat under a large shade tree while it rained softly around them. The soft ‘pitter-patter’ of the rain surrounding them seemed to set the rhythm for Elowyn’s heart whenever her eyes caught his, and all she kept asking herself was ‘why’?

Why did she ever let him leave?

               Before him sat a woman, a damn gorgeous one at that, and he was stunned that she was letting him unravel her mystery, becoming a part of her present. How crazy is the thought, how could he have never noticed that her eyes were just the right shade of honey brown, a lightness around the iris while the darkness clung to the edges or how her laughter reminded him of summertime. They had been friends for so long, and yet he’d never really looked at her. Jaskier found himself staring, desperate to learn more.

               “What are you looking at?” She questioned, finally pulling him from his daze. Gods, how embarrassing. Jaskier was at a loss of words. A bard, speechless. Why did he suddenly become nervous? They’d been friends for years, since before they could walk. Friends weren’t supposed to make you nervous, or make your hands sweat. Was that butterflies in his stomach, or was it the berries he drank earlier not settling on his stomach after not having them for so long?

               “Um… You-You have a bug in your hair.” He stuttered. He went to reach his hand out, maybe run a finger through her hair but thought better of it. Friends don’t touch other friend’s hair, did they? He suddenly didn’t have any answers, any guidelines for the dangerous territory he was heading in. She shook her head, splaying her dark red hair around her and the smell of roses and honey hits his nose sharply, making his heart stutter in his chest. It was as if she were stealing the very air from his lungs as she looks back up at him with her doe-like eyes, her skin almost glowing under the dark tresses of her hair.

               “Is it gone now?” Elowyn asked so casually, as if suddenly everything hadn’t changed. As if her smile didn’t hold the warmth of the sun. That would make for a good line in a song.

               “Yes,” He hummed, aware of how his voice sounded, of how his teeth were crooked, of how completely lovely she was. “Yes, it’s all good now.” Did he dare tell her that she was beautiful? No, that could ruin everything. He decided that maybe this feeling would pass. That maybe when they rode out tomorrow, she would go back to being his best friend, and not a girl that somehow took up the space in his chest and lungs, making it hard for him to breathe. Maybe this epiphany was only temporary, and they would eventually fall back into their rhythm. But did he really want that?

               “You know, I’m really glad that we found one another again.” She says, smiling sweetly at him from under the shade of their shade tree. Gods, what wouldn’t he do to see that every day? He laughed gently and noticed that she had turned her body to face him, sitting so that their knees were touching. How could she be doing all this? All she did was sit there, and she was taking his breath away. It had to be some sort of magic, some sort of spell she cast on him. The way her eyes twinkled as she looked at him, the gentle smile on her face.

Her dark hair framed her face well, her nose small and button-like, cheekbones high and lips full. What he wouldn’t do to feel them pressed against his. Someone should make her into a sculpture, he should mold her features in warm clay to commemorate her beauty forever, longer than any ballad could. Jaskier wasn’t sure if there were any words in any language that could capture the raw beauty she held in that moment, eyes twinkling in the dark sunset with a smile just for him. If only his hands were dexterous enough to catch the fine details of her face, to catch the innocence and beauty of Elowyn. It took him a moment to remember that she spoke to him as he smiled back, snaking a hand out to pat her knee.

               “Me too. We should head to the tavern. Find Geralt before he leaves us.” Jaskier informs her with a soft smile. He stands and extends a hand to help her, and almost sighs in pleasure when their hands collide as he squeezes her hand slightly as he tugs her up standing next to him. Who knew that even holding hands could feel so good? Her hand was so warm, and so damn soft. As quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. He had to release her once she was standing upright, her head falling just at his chin.

               “He wouldn’t really leave us, would he?” Ely asks as she peers through her long lashes up at him. Fuck, he just wants to kiss her. He laughs lightly as he turns on his heel and starts walking away towards the tavern, hands resting in his trousers as he begins whistling a new tune, a new song coming to life in his mind. A sweet melody wafting though the air between them as she follows with giggling, taking his answer as a yes.

               Maybe this adventure wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#Jaskier x reader #jaskier imagines #the witcher #jaskier x oc

[skzhabibi]

An Old Crush (A Long, Bittersweet Personal Storytime/Rant)

When I was in Junior High, I had really, REALLY low self esteem. I was still very much in the awkward phase of puberty and all of those hormones paired with the fact I was having lots of problems at home resulted in some pretty severe mental health issues (which I won’t get too much into, because I don’t wanna trigger anyone). Not only that, but I’m naturally pretty sensitive, so any negative comments people had made about my appearance in the past, whether they were trash talking my hand-me-down clothes, pale ass skin, acne, big nose, etc., it really stuck with me. I was a mess, basically. And I’m part Arab on my mom’s side, so seeing a psychiatrist was never really an option.

Anyways, I was 13 or 14 (8th grade) when I took my 1st Spanish class. This had a bunch of the more “popular” kids in it, because they were trying to get the credit out of the way before High School and there were only 2 teachers who taught Spanish at my school, so it was bound to happen. There was a popular boy in my class, called T for the sake of the story, who sat a seat in front and to the left. I don’t know how we first started talking, but it was probably because of many factors. I laughed at his jokes, he sat near me in Spanish and English which we had right after, I was pretty solid academically at the time and he wasn’t, we had a couple mutual friends/acquaintances, etc... I guess it’s also good to mention he was known for his good looks and the fact he was A-string quarterback on our shitty little football team while I was kind of a social floater; a decent amount of people knew of me, but not many people actually knew me well, if at all.

I didn’t really pay him any mind in a romantic way at first, to be honest. I just thought he was reasonably attractive, but I figured he’d think himself “too cool” to be associated with me since that’s the vibe a lot of the other popular boys in the class had given me if I ever tried making friends with them. People really just gave me the cold shoulder in general, which hurt my feelings, so I wasn’t gonna risk it anymore. But what really made that first little crush for him start was when one day as I was rushing to get out the door first after the bell rang (which I always did because I’m impatient as fUCK and hate that huge ass crowd you had to shove through or come out last), he rushed forward, squeezing through the door around the other jocks and practically pushing them out of the way, to catch up to me and ask me to walk to English together. As an inexperienced little simp, that shit really looked like something out of a movie. It gave me such a needed boost of confidence that I actually started beaming, which was REALLY out of character for me (I’ve always been known for my “resting bitch face”).

So this became such a regular thing, walking to English, that we actually began waiting for each other by our desks to pack our stuff up, and we were usually around the last 2 to leave the room. At some point I finally plucked up the courage to ask him for his number, which was TERRIFYING because I’d never done anything like that. I think I made some excuse that since we had 2 classes together if we forgot about the homework we could remind each other (holy shit I was such a nerd). We texted a few times, but it never got super deep that I remember. I never really initiated the conversations because I didn’t want to make it seem like I liked him even though at this point I REALLY did; I even told a couple of my friends, which I didn’t normally do either. I was always someone to bottle up that shit and bury it so it never saw the light of day because I was so fucking afraid of rejection (Fragile Ass Self Esteem wants to know your location).

I literally thought that I was unlikeable in every sense of the word, so a bunch of the signs that he liked me back at the time never dawned on me. He could’ve literally screamed in my face that he liked me and I’d probably be like “As a Friend, right???”

I guess I’ll just take this moment to tell you about a bunch of the things that should’ve bee HUGE ASS signs he liked me:

1.) This girl on the volleyball team at our table in English that T knew would make passes about how he was really sought-after by a shit ton of girls and then look at me. He also looked at me afterwards like he was shy but gauging my reaction. She had a sort of Jade from Victorious vibe to her so I figured she saw through me and was trying to embarrass me by getting a reaction, so I kept my face straight.

2.) He would compliment me more than anyone else I spoke to (which was uhhhh never. I never got complimented.) For example: He was always calling me smart or a “try hard” to joke with me. I took it as an expression of friendly jealousy. When I curled my hair one day he noticed and literally said, “Can we all take a moment to appreciate (my name)’s hair?” It made me blush so hard, but I thought he was making fun of me. He would also insist on reading my shit or me reading his when the English teacher made us peer review/journal check and would compliment the work I did or my handwriting or how organized it looked. Living that emotionally stunted Y/N life.

3.) The Spanish teacher made us partner up any time there was group work, and she moved his seat to right next to mine every routine seat change. I was gullible as shit thinking that that was coincidental when he had other friends in class. I figured it was cuz I was good and he sucked at Spanish lmaooo. I’ve since read posts on reddit where teachers have confirmed that they can tell when kids have crushes on each other and they’ll play wingman/woman. When I read that I was like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE. Mrs. G was a real one and I was so fucking oblivious to it.

4.) Another girl on the volleyball team asked if he and I were dating. I was taken aback and said no, we weren’t (conveniently leaving out the “I wish”) and asked why she would think that. The reason she gave was that since people saw us walk together between classes, a lot of people figured we were together. I chalked it up to stupid gossip that had no roots in anything he said, so I laughed it off to keep from getting my hopes up.

5.) A similar thing happened AGAIN with a guy who was also on the football team. When he learned my name, he was like, “Wait, (my first and last)?” And I was like yeah wtf how did you know my last without me telling you? And he’s straight up like, “Oh, you’re the girl T has a thing for.” AND I WAS SO FUCKING BLIND OMFG I was just like well he’s never told me he likes me so even though multiple people at this point have said something I think that is completely baseless fake news.

6.) One of the MOST telling signs: he would always say hi to me outside of classes when I was alone. He found me outside my locker one day and started talking to me. The coaches would make the kids on sports teams run back to locker room, and one day he was doing that when he saw me at my locker (which was right by the sport locker rooms since I was in girls’ athletics). His teammates would glance at me while they ran by, and he told me to wait for him while he changed so we could walk to Spanish (1st period) together. Ngl, this really sealed the nail in the coffin for my huge ass crush on this kid. I was taken aback because I thought our friendship was just for convenience and he didn’t actually see me as a real friend he would be seen outside of class with. But in the end I still psyched myself out by saying I was just something to entertain him.

7.) One time in the library, I was working on printing out some paper. An annoying ass kid who was overly friendly and rode the bus with me was talking to me a lot, and I was pretty clearly not interested in my mind at least. T walked in for some reason and smiled and said “Hey, (my name)” pretty loudly. I wasn’t expecting to see him, so I was just like “Oh, hey, T,” because I lack social skills. He glanced at the kid and back at me and his face kinda dropped before he kept walking. I think the kid asked me to hang out with him and our mutual friend and I was basically like no thanks man I’m kinda busy.

8.) Other times he would do this as well. One time my girl friend and I were sitting across from each other at a lunch table in the morning after getting off the bus. Out of LITERALLY NOWHERE he just swoops in and sits next to my friend across from me and starts talking to me about some project in Spanish he finished, showing me excitedly what he wrote and asking if it was right. He pretty much ignored my friend, and she was hella socially anxious and knew about my crush on him so she kinda got huge eyes and shut down socially. He and I talked for a bit before it got awkward because we ran out of shit to say and it was awkward now that we had an extra person and we pretty much only talked to each other without anyone else in the conversation. He left after that and my friend and I freaked tf out.

9.) One time while I was waiting for the bus in the cafeteria after school, I was alone because my friends were taking too long. I was on my phone when he comes up and starts talking to me. I was hella fucking awkward because for some reason I‘m always a fucking stiff around the person I like. Then my guy friend who rode the same bus came up and cock blocked the shit out of T because he’s super fucking loud and just starts fucking around. He and I are super close even to this day and I guess T got intimidated by how easily we were joking around and kinda saw himself out before I could say anything.

10.) THIS LIST IS GETTING TOO LONG SKDJDJASKDJDJ BUT I FUCKIN FORGOT whenever we would walk between classes we would sometimes not even talk. Like whenever the conversation died we would just kinda stare into each other’s eyes 😂 I thought I was just being creepy, but he fucking smiled at me when it happened why am I so dUmB fUUUCK. Also sometimes the popular kids would run up behind us and fuck with him like make fun of him or make some sort of awkward pass that I wouldn’t react to before running down the hall ahead of us. My guess now is that he was meaning to make a move but my neutral reaction to whatever dumbass thing they said made it impossible to tell if I felt the same so he chickened out.

ANYWAYS I think our little friendship/mutual pining fizzled our after one time he made a more up front attempt because at this point he was probably fed up with waiting for me to get the hint but this exchange really fucking backfired:

Basically he got a girlfriend, this girl on GUESS WHAT??! THE VOLLEYBALL TEAM. I heard about it straight from him while we’re walking to English together and that shit hurted but I was like whatever I still want him as a friend and this pretty much confirmed in my mind that he NEVER liked me. So basically he’s talking about how he’s been seeing her to pass the time but he doesn’t actually like her. And I was like why not? She’s really cool/nice and REALLY pretty. But if you don’t like her then why date her? Seems like a waste of time. He’s like yeah well basically she said she liked me so I asked her out but tbh I think she’s annoying. And I’m like what did she do something on a date that was annoying? STILL UTTERLY CLUELESS AND HES DEADASS LIKE what are you jealous like in a flirty way and my DUMB. ASS. Is like.... WHATTTT PSHHH NO I MEAN WE’RE JUST BROSSS AHAHA.

Can I get an F in the chat pls?

Basically we just stopped talking after a while. I think my friend texting his brother officially knifed the shit out of that ship’s sail. Years later I confessed that I liked him back then and asked if he liked me back back then so I could stop worrying about gaslighting myself and he’s basically like yeah I would’ve tried something with you (came across really unenthusiastic). And then one time in like my freshman year of community college I was with my bio study group in the library going to where we were meeting up for a project when I felt eyes on me from the computers and literally LOCKED EYES WITH HIM AND HES JUST LIKE 👁👄👁

LMAO I PRETENDED LIKE I DIDNT KNOW THAT BITCH

OH TO SEE WITHOUT MY EYES

1 like = 1 smash of your head against the wall at my fucking idiocy

[gyromitra-esculenta]

‘Jack the Stag, and Other Works Penned by the Esteemed Songstress Sombra’. It’s an inside joke, probably. Kind of Part 3. Unedited. Personally, I’m liking this story more and more.

Otherwise: a bad Witcher AU but not because of the TV series (rest is somewhere here either under totally not witcher au or murder-deer tag)..

Warnings: blood, animal death (implied but not really), Jack has a thing against dryads only he does not, discussions of the price. Bad puns. (also, we are nearing towards one of the resolutions \o/)

*

Gabriel broods foregoing any further attempts at having a conversation and this time he's thankful for Jack ignoring him - until the brief vibration of the medallion when they pass through the boundary of the dryad grove brings him out of the dark reverie.

The air Gabriel inhales is rich with the smell of berries and coniferous trees, the light comes from no obvious source, and in front of him Jack suddenly whips back as an arrow flies past him.

"Oi! You stupid bitches," he screams in retaliation, "at least hit or miss proper!"

True to his words, some blood trickles down from the gash on his arm, and Jack almost dives forward to evade the other arrows fired at him while still shouting profanities, at least until a sort of a reverent whisper carries on the breeze as dryads emerge from their hiding spots.

"Wasn't that hard, was it now? I want to speak to your tree-mother." Jack strides forward, ignoring the way the dryads congregate around and try to touch him in passing - which absolutely has nothing to do with the patch of blooming flowers springing up from the bloodied stone.

Only it does have everything to do with it, and Gabriel pauses on the way to pick two of the cornflowers not sure what he intends them for. When he catches up, Jack sits in the grass surrounded by a circle of the adoring dryads responding to his every question.

He finds a spot away from them but close enough to hear the indistinct chatter, some of Jack's words carrying over the murmur of the other voices.

Gabriel turns the flowers in his hand, a gesture to keep himself busy paying only the nominal attention to his surroundings.

The touch sliding over his shoulder and fingers wedging below the hardened leather comes as a surprise. He glances at the dryad tilting her head now at him, her eyes half-lidded and parted lips stretching in a little smile. Gabriel just raises his eyebrows as she moves closer.

Soon, her arms circle his neck and she almost sits on his legs.

"Hands off and where I can see them, you tree harlot," Jack almost snarls from where he stands above her and the dryad shies away with haste, coy and supplicant, stealing glances and them both. "Scram! Now!"

"Fucking tree whores thinking they can touch anything they want only because they want to!"

Gabriel slips the flowers behind the pack as Jack sinks to the ground next to him, still ranting, keeping his eyes steady on the visibly pouting dryad slinking back to her sisters.

"The pond is there, you need to clean yourself so I can dress your back properly."

This grabs Jack's attention and he tries for the same sultry expression the offending dryad wore on her face. It's ridiculous, even without the dried insect viscera in his hair.

"I remember someone offering to wash my back in exchange for his sword?"

"Not like this. I'm serious," Gabriel adds seeing Jack bat his eyes, adding whole layers of absurdity to his attempt to act seductive. "Stop it, you look about as captivating as Sombra put in a gown."

"There's really no making you happy, is there?"

"I'll be happy when your back is taken care of." He nudges Jack's arm with his hand. "C'mon. You can tell me all in the meantime."

"All?" There's a flicker of darkness swiping over the blue and white of his eyes and Jack smiles.

Gabriel doesn't deign to answer and points in the direction of the pond, watching Jack get up with a groan and plod to the bank where he proceeds to make a spectacle out of losing his boots and pants. Several of the dryads hiding in the reeds are certainly appreciative of it.

"Get into the water, no stalling," Gabriel mutters gutting the bag to find everything he needs. Truth be told, he could use a bath too but he's not going to risk it, especially not with the same dryad slowly inching closer. "Vatt'ghern. Infertile," he tells her in low voice.

Any pretense of interest she might have carried is immediately extinguished by an expression bordering on offended. The scoff coming from her is drowned by the sound of water splashing and a scream.

"Melitele's tits, it stings!"

"And if you don't do it, it will get worse!"

"I'd rather sleep in an ant nest!" Jack sputters between dunking himself under surface and vigorously rubbing his hair to get the crusted remnants of the centipede out of it. "Or have my mouth stung by a bee!"

"Do I want to know?"

"No. It was embarrassing, the honey didn't help."

The image of Jack with his lips all swollen and puffy is enough to elicit a snort out of him. When he looks up, Jack's staring back at him from the water with an amused tilt to his head.

"Made you laugh, little cub."

"Are you done?"

"Oh, I don't know about that."

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to look." Gabriel turns his head back down to the preparations, mixing the crushed herbs with the lard.

"Fine, be this way," Jack huffs, splashing some more before he decides it's enough, and he marches out of the pond.

Without any additional prodding he sits in front of Gabriel with his back turned to him. Droplets of water and some duckweed stick to his skin and Gabriel brushes them off with the cloth before he starts applying the ointment.

"So why did they let the bugs run off the leash?"

"Tree-mother's been asleep for generations, and now she's dying, so their control over the grove is slipping."

"They're not true, are they?"

"Mixed. They have a cozy agreement with the men in the village, once a year they get a kid or three out of it, some other in-between."

"You'd think there would be more of them." Gabriel puts finishing touches to the burn and moves to the graze on the arm.

"Do you see any boys here, cub?"

"This much, I've guessed. They're not going to keep this place for much longer."

Jack turns around and shifts to his knees.

"I could give them time. A lot of it, to last for generations more."

"Could, not would," Gabriel notes while slicking back blond hair from Jack's face to inspect the wound on his cheek, reddened and hot but bleeding no more.

"They have nothing to offer in return that I'd want."

"You could ask some to lie with you, they'd probably fight one another for it."

"The key is want. But," Jack looks at him expectantly, and his palm covers Gabriel's fingers resting on his cheek, "I could do it for you, little cub. Do you call upon the Covenant and pay the price?"

"I do," Gabriel answers after a moment of hesitation, remembering the last time Jack had asked him the same. "Wait."

He reaches for the cornflowers and fits them behind Jack's ear - making sure the stems hold in place. The smile he is given in return is full of unspoken words.

"You'll make me think you care, cub," Jack drawls in content tones. He moves closer and splays his fingers on Gabriel's thighs, their noses almost touching.

"Pants."

"Do I have..."

"Yes, you do," Gabriel cuts short the petulant whine by thrusting the bundle of cloth in his face.

"Since when do you always have a spare pair?" Jack grumbles under his breath - backing off and getting his feet into the pant legs.

"Since you insist on promenading buck naked all the time."

Jack freezes with the trousers around his knees and stumbles a bit.

"Was that a pun?"

"Maybe."

"Commit to it, then, so I can hate you proper for it."

"No." Gabriel raises his eyebrows.

"Careful, cub, you're like a spring's fawn on November’s ice." Jack pulls up the pants, ties the strap, and stretches before turning on his heel. "Coming?"

"Wait," Gabriel calls out after him, following closely behind, "you didn't name the price."

"And you had not asked before agreeing," Jack flashes him a wry smile over his shoulder. "I'm trusting you to keep the word given and pay back what is owed, little cub."

"I can't do that if..."

"Hush, little cub."

Jack leans down and picks up a broken stone barely breaking his stride. The dryads flock to the sides but keep their distance as he stops in front of a wilted tree, looking at it attentively with his head tilted back.

The gnarled branches spread in canopy above the clearing, the aged roots pierce the ground around the massive trunk except for the path free of any growth on which Jack stands with his bare feet braced on dirt and stones. His left palm smooths over the cracked bark.

The impression Gabriel has that Jack in his vindictiveness aims to teach him a lesson evaporates when he begins to speak.

"You're so old that you remember the time before them. You've earned your peaceful sleep, many times over. But you left the children alone without guidance."

He grips the stone in his left hand and with a wince cuts the inside of his right palm with it, slow and deep.

"So sleep longer and dream, and from those dreams let the seed come that will grow a sapling to continue in your stead so the children are taken care of."

Fingers smear the blood on the trunk before Jack presses his hand to it. Into it.

Gabriel's medallion jumps violently straining against the cloth of his shirt and the chain - trying to break free before it falls slack as suddenly as it had started to react to the magic.

Gabriel finds himself moving even before the bloodied stone slipping loose from the grip Jack had on it registers fully in his mind. He almost slides, ending in a crouch with his arms outstretched and catching Jack's full weight before he hits the ground in a dead faint.

He's cold, so cold, wracked by shivers, and his breath burns Gabriel's cheek.

"I need something to warm him up," Gabriel barks an order at the surrounding dryads, undoing the buckles of his armor with one hand while he cradles Jack to himself with his other arm.

He throws the chestpiece awkwardly to the side and strips his shirt - hands are holding out furs and worn out blankets. Gabriel grabs as many as he can and wraps them around himself and Jack, pulling him closer, tangling their legs together before he lies back on the ground.

Jack, with his face cradled in the nook of his neck, is still running hot and cold, skin frigid to the touch and each exhale scorching, trembling with no respite in sight.

"Fuck." Gabriel purses his lips unsure if anything he does, and could do, is even helping.

Above them, the dead branches sprout green leaves and flowers bloom filling the air with sweet aroma but he can only think about running his hands over the hair on the neck of a great old stag gasping painfully for its breath, of curling his fingers around the arrow shafts.

He remembers the weight of the knife he had plunged into its flesh, no, not the swiftest of deaths, and the blood pooling beneath them - seeping into the ground to give birth to a miracle - and it is the knife he feels between his fingers twined into blond locks.

Where he sat at the edge of the river, Jack had laid with his head in Gabriel's lap unaware of the attentions of rusalkas and nymphs focused on him as he trembled with the same kind of chill clinging to his skin, lips blue at the edges and warmed on the inside by his breath.

Gabriel had asked then, bound by the curiosity, and the one with the crown of water lilies in her damp hair almost laughed at his question.

"Silly man," she whispered with the shimmer of a stream spilling over the rocks, her dark eyes glinting, "it is no fun when he sleeps."

As enigmatic answer as ever, and no less he came to expect from creatures of her ilk - speaking in riddles unless they want something - but one that explained enough. He had spent the rest of the night with fingers tracing the jagged grey scar under which a steady pulse ran.

And in the same fashion Jack's skin slowly warms as his breath cools and shiver subside. Soon, the hand resting on his chest shifts slowly to touch the leather pouch on the string.

"Never take it off," the voice in which Jack speaks is barely audible. "Never tell anyone."

"I won't. I wouldn't." Gabriel looks at his face where under the lashes only a sliver of blue glimmers. "What did you take for it?"

"I wanted you to catch me," Jack murmurs against his skin.

"You couldn't have..."

"I trusted you to catch me, little cub. And you did."

"That's fucking ridiculous, you twat," Gabriel laughs - it's strained and leaves his throat raw and hurting. "And I was asking about the flower. What was the price for the flower?"

"A kiss."

"A kiss," Gabriel repeats after him because it is even more preposterous than anticipated

"Now," Jack puts a finger against Gabriel's lips, stopping whatever he might say, "a kiss had been asked, and a kiss had been given. It is not for you to decide what makes a kiss."

"A kiss. Was it worth all of that?"

Jack shifts and moves so that his elbows rest on the sides of Gabriel's head, and he looks down at him.

"Why do you want me to tell you it was not?"

"Because when you get what you want..." Gabriel swallows past the dryness in his throat. "You will leave, won't you?"

Jack chuckles with his lashes lowered and his head inclined curiously to the side, lips pushed forward almost in a pout.

"My foolish little Gabriel, why, oh, why would I leave if the only thing I want is you? Have I not made myself known?"

#sometimes I write #r76 #reaper76 #murder-deer #totallynotwitcher!AU

[solara-bean]

A Warlord's Hatred

-see A Talk with the Prime himself for lil more context. This takes place beforehand-

My heart and lungs burned from all the running I'd done in less than an hour.

How did it come to this? We were just out to get some more energon. It was suppose to be an easy mission, but nOoO the Cons just had to pop in and start a fight. Now I'm seperated from the group, the sun is setting, we're in the middle of some vast forest and my personally constructed ,energon powered laser gun is back at the base. So yeah. Today's going great.

The sound of heavy footsteps brought me back to reality. I needed to hide and quick. If one of them caught me there's no telling what would happen to me. There were plenty of big trees and rocks but they'd expect me to be there.

Then I saw it. A rather normal looking pine tree, except some of the roots were above ground, leaving a very small opening right under it. Upon close examination the burrow was empty and just big enough for my small form to fit. So I managed to wiggle myself in just in time before I had been seen.

The burrow was too far down for any of them to see, epecially now with night coming soon. They couldn't have been around long but it felt like ages. I'm not great with small spaces, too much dirt or bugs so I had to keep myself from freaking out and breathing too loud. Eventually they moved on and I couldn't hear or feel their steps anymore.

I was about to come out when I heard more footsteps. Much heavier than the ones before. Maybe another scout? A really big scout. Yeah. No need to worry. They'll just be on their way.

A large, silver ped stomped right in front of the burrow. The force of it jostled me into one of the pointed roots, causing me to squeak.

" Aw cra-"

Before I could finish, the tree was kicked clean from the ground and fell to the side with a loud thud. My head shot up to see none other than the Warlord himself. This was my first time seeing him up close and the same probably went for him too. The closest encounter we've had was a long stare from opposite ends of the battlefield. Bumblebee was holding me as instructed by Optimus to get me to safety while he dealt with Megatron.

I'll never forget the cold look he gave me. It was so filled with ...hatred. In fact it was same look he was giving me now. There was no escaping it since he had me held up to his eye level. When he grabbed me I'm not sure. Someone bigger than Optimus has no right to be that fast.

" Well well well. If it isn't the Autobot's favorite pet. Or should I say Optimus' pet."

Although both his and Optimus' voices were deep, his was no where near as gentle or calming. Maybe because of all the venom and arrogance it held.

" What's wrong little human? Do really have nothing to say for our first meeting. I honestly expected more from the organic that blasted me out of the sky."

Oh right! I sure did do that. He wasn't the first Con I shot with my laser gun, but he was certainly the most satisfying. Got him right in the wing while he was firing at me and Op as we tried to escape. He couldn't have known that I was in the front seat but he definitely wouldn't forget the pain of that fall plus the laser wound around the size if a car tire.

" Well!" he urged on tightening his grasp for emphasis and making me wince.

" I-I have a lot to say actually," I groaned as I tried to loosen his digits around me to no avail. " It would just be pointless though."

He raised an optical ridge, almost amused.

" And why is that, little one."

I cringed at the pet name. That better not stick.

" Because," I leaned forward and gave him the best glare I could muster. " You're too arrogant and hard headed to listen. Even if you did give me the privilege of speaking, you wouldn't take me seriously. You haven't even bothered to learn my name! So why waste my breath on a foolish prick like you?"

He was taken aback if only for a second before he emitted a low, dark chuckle and smirked.

" I know your name. I just see no point in using it."

I through my hands into the air, releasing his digits for the first time.

" That's what I'm talking about! You barely know me ,or anyone of my species for that matter, and you've already decided that we're below you. What sense could that possibly make?!"

" Plenty! Your worthless people can't even protect themselves against us. Why should you have any of my respect?!"

" Well gee we wouldn't have to defend ourselves if someone wasn't trying to conquer our planet in the first place!"

" Your planet is the only thing of use to me. You humans are merely a bystander."

" You of all mechs should know what that feels like! To be pushed aside. Disrespected. Yet here you are doing the same thing to us!"

That got him.

" What could you possibly know about that?"

I grinned wickedly.

" You said it yourself. I'm Optimus' favorite pet. Do you really think he wouldn't share stories with me," I leaned in just close enough to his face plates, now giving off a bright white shine from the moon's light. " Stories about you specifically." I lowered my voice to a whisper. " Megatronus."

The next thing I heard was the most feral growl that I was sure no human or mech could make. I was certain he'd drop or squish me then and there. Instead I was raised even higher to his level, now staring down into his crimson optics.

" You dare," he snarled. " You dare address me by that designation."

His tone was meant to intimidate, but I steeled myself.

" You should be flattered. I'm giving you more respect than you've given me."

" You being squished by my own servo is as much respect as you'll get!"

" And what's the honor in that," I crossed my arms. " If I'm so weak and helpless then what does killing day about you? You could easily step on, throw me or hell drop me and I'd be done for. So what would an all powerful warlord such as yourself gain from such an easy defeat!?"

He narrowed his optics before throwing his helm back and cackled.

" To get to Optimus of course! The mere thought of his devastation over your death is beyond satisfying. To get a rise out of him. To see him break."

My stomach sank.

" H-how are you so sure he'll break? He's lost lives before. How would I be any different?"

He frowned in what could only be disgust.

" Because, human, he cares for you. Too much in fact. I can see it in his optics. Feel it in his field. Honestly, killing you might do him a favor."

I cowered despite myself.

" Why...?"

He sighed in exhaustion and looked away. I thanked the cosmos that he didn't notice me trembling. Or maybe he didn't care.

" Despite what you're tiny mind might think, I do have respect for Prime. He would not be my one true rival if I didn't. To see him stoop so low. To show such affection for another being after all these centuries-" for a moment his sounded as though it broke before he turned back to me, optics full of rage and something else I couldn't place.

" It had to be you. The medic I could understand. Same for Magnus. Pits! Even the bumbling wrecker! But you! No. He must be desperate. Desperate for another. So he chose the easiest of the bunch. As if you aren't going to wilt away any solar cycle!"

I couldn't speak. My words seemed trapped in my throat so I just let him drone on.

" So yes. The best option would be to end you. To show him how meaningless his feelings are. If I'm going to win this war then he needs to be focused. Focused on my next move to defeat him."

We remained silent. The seconds dragging by torturously as we kept our gazes locked.

" ....Zola"

He tilted his helm.

" What?"

I steadied my breath before I spoke again.

" If you're really going to kill me then you need to know my name. To remember every syllable. To remember that Optimus is still capable of loving after all you put him through. And you're wrong. He doesn't just love me. He loves everyone. Why else would he sacrifice so much. Lose so much of himself. Lose so many years fighting when he could have just killed you long ago. Because as crazy as it sounds..."

I made sure to meet his gaze. To my surprise he was listening. Really listening.

" I think he still loves you."

I couldn't predict what happened next. Megatron. The leader of the Decepticons. The gladiator of Kaon. Looked distraught. Unbelieving. . .Hurt.

He exvented shakily. Stared at the ground. Loosened his grip to where I nearly fell.

I held on and peered at him almost out of concern as time passed.

" Y-you...." his voice barely audible. " You don't know anything. You couldn't possibly know how he feels. You haven't known him long enough."

I considered his panicked words and smiled softly moreso to myself.

" Then I guess I have one reason to be envious of you...."

Whatever he was about to say or however he was going to react next, I'll never know.

An energon beam hit him in the shoulder, causing him to drop me. Before I could hit the ground, I was caught by to smaller servos.

" Bumblebee!" I exclaimed both in surprise and happiness.

'Are you okay, Zola' he beeped.

" I'm fine Bee." I patted him on the cheek.

A shadow loomed over us. I looked to see Optimus, in his fighting stance, blocking Megatron's path to us. His field radiating so much protectiveness and fury that I could sense it. The moment felt like deja vu. Except this time, Megatron didn't stay to fight.

Back at the base, all the bots bombarded me with concerns and questions. Optimus took me to his room before I could address all of them, saying I and everyone else needed to rest. Once we were in his room, he laid on the berth and put me down next to him. This wasn't my first time in his room so there were already pillows and blankets handy. I bundled up and settled next to his neck cables, resting my head on his faceplate.

He knew I was crying before I did. He didn't say anything. Merely shielded me with his servo and hummed an old Cybertronian lullaby.

#megatron #megatronus #transformers #oc #human oc #optimus prime #autobots #decepticons #maybe tfp megatron???? #whichever megs really #implied megaop