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coffee--writes · 3 years

Text

Cherry

Pairing: Lily Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Angsty but nothing more

Requested: No. It is a song fic for Cherry by Harry Styles. I would also like to say the music notes headers are to show the instrumental portions of the song which I believe add to the fic.

Summary: In which, you struggle to move on from you and Lily’s past relationship.

♪-♪-♪-♪-♪-♪

The cool air bit at your neck under the willow tree that day.

Leaves fell majestically by your side as you faced the cold, a scarf around your shoulders, mittens covering your palms and boots on your feet.

But although your body was protected from the bitter chill of November, nothing could save you from the frigid emptiness inside your mind.

It seemed Lily Evans had made a large indentation in your life.

For worse or for better.

Don’t you call him “baby”

We’re not talking lately

Don’t you call him what you used to call me

James Potter.

Oh, how you had hated him.

You remembered his pestering presence. Each and every Hogsmeade trip you and Lily had spent together was always greeted with glasses and a smirk you had grown to hate but Lily would grow to love.

At first you had been angry. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that James Potter fancied Lily Evans. He didn’t try to hide it, in fact he was proud to be rejected by her. But months later, when Lily had moved on, you realized you couldn’t blame him. No one had known of those secret moments shared between you and Lily Evans. No one knew of the stolen kisses in hidden corridors, the late night rendezvous in the kitchen or the hands that were intertwined under the table. James Potter hadn’t known that those days he spent pestering were more than just an outing with a friend.

You couldn’t stay mad at him.

It wouldn’t have been fair.

But you were angry and that had been the problem. You couldn’t be mad at James for his ignorance. There were days you desperately wished you could be mad at Lily Evans. She had always insisted on keeping your relationship a secret. Few people knew of the love shared between the two of you. Only Lily’s trusted friends. She had insisted yours would tell someone in the end.

Begrudgingly, you had agreed to her words. Most of your relationship was spent in secret or in the confidence of Mary, Marlene, and Dorcas, who you soon grow to love dearly. You knew now that Lily hadn’t been fair. But yet, you couldn’t find the power to be angry with her.

So you stayed angry at yourself.

A month had gone by since you had ended things and the few glimpses you saw of Lily she was linked hand in hand with James. You watched as he pressed kisses to her cheeks in front of the world, tucking her cherry red hair behind her ear. They always sat tucked away in the corner, surrounded by ever growing flowers. No matter how far away from them you were you could always hear her whispers to him. That magical word that used to belong to you and only you.

“Baby” she would say, her lips forming the vowels perfectly.

And each time the word was said James Potter would smile and you would only look away, your mind lingering back to those moments when she had called you hers.

I… I confess

I can tell that you are at your best

I’m selfish so I’m hating it

Walking down the sun lit halls had become bittersweet.

For there she was, walking side by side with James Potter, a large smile on her face. You hadn’t seen that smile in a long time. In the beginning it had always been there. Her smile was beautiful, a perfect compliment to that cherry red hair that you loved so deeply. You had loved that you were the person who got to see it the most.

But now James saw it every hour of every day as you had once before. Maybe he thought about it each night as he went to sleep as you had done and continued to do each night. Lily’s smile had left you a long time ago and now it seemed to have returned.

And although her smile produced a warm feeling in the pit of your chest, your mind wallowed in a bitter cold due to the fact that she was smiling without you. Her figure disappeared from view and that selfish pit turned into a bitter hatred towards yourself.

You were happy for Lily.

At least you were trying to be.

I notice that

There’s a piece of you in how I dress

Take it as a compliment

Lily had buried herself deeper than you had thought.

It became clear to you when you had shuffled through your collection of clothes. Your typical outfit consisted of frayed jeans and a cardigan; a basic look. Today you were going to Hogsmeade and although you were going with a friend you decided to get dressed up for the occasion.

That was when you had noticed the floral pattern that had once littered your floor.

Lily had loved sundresses. You remembered shopping hours looking for the perfect one. “It has to match my hair and eyes.” she would say. Each time you would roll your eyes but in reality she had always looked gorgeous in every one she tried on. She had soon pestered you into buying one.

“Come on, Y/N/N. You’ll look amazing in the flower one.”

So you had tried it on and the pattern had grown on you. It didn’t help that her face always lit up when you wore it. Now she was gone and you could only stare at the blue flower petals that blossomed on the contrasting white of the fabric. Time was ticking and you wouldn’t let thoughts of her spoil your day.

You slipped on the dress quickly.

You couldn’t deny she had amazing taste.

Don’t you call him “baby”

We’re not talking lately

Don’t you call him what you used to call me

Her actions hurt.

Ignoring you, that was.

Very few people questioned the drifting friendship between you two. Before you would walk together, side by side, hips bumping each other softly. Now, you walked opposite ends of the corridor, those emerald green eyes never meeting yours.

In a way it was a blessing. The lack of words between you and her. You knew deep down that if you had to look into those eyes again or watch the freckles on her face dance that your chilled exterior would soon fall apart. You’d remember those nights spent in the greenhouses watching as the magical lunar flowers budded in the streaks of moonlight. You’d recall the music you once danced to in your home over the summer as the sun set in the English countryside.

Emerald green eyes and cherry red hair would lead you to remember every kiss and every study date. Days spent in grassy fields on sunny days or stormy nights cuddled by the fire. You were even reminded of the smallest things like the exchanging of books, a tap to the nose and long conversations that were lost in the void of the night. Memories would flood your mind and you would soon drown in their depth.

For once, you were thankful to be ignored.

♪-♪-♪-♪-♪-♪

Lily had been your only friend.

That was a slight exaggeration but it felt that way. You talked to other people and they were kind. But none of them had the connection you and Lily had once shared. Without her by your side it was as if you were travelling with only half a heart. Half a soul. Lily had acted as your compass and without her you lost all sense of direction.

So you watched her from the window.

There she was, laughing loudly alongside Potter and his friends. Their feet left prints on the shore of the lake. They splashed at her, an act that a younger Lily would have scolded them for. But she looked so happy, a smile shining bright for her beloved Potter. Your hand rested on your chin and a sad smile made its way to your face.

Their laughs echoed in the blank slate of your mind.

I... I just miss

I just miss your accent and your friends

Did you know I still talk to them?

Today was one of the rare moments you felt completely at peace.

Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas walked at your sides, small smiles on their lips. You hadn’t seen them in a while as they had always been closer to Lily and you knew they preferred her company. But even after you and Lily had fallen off they had acted as your friends.

After walking down the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade you finally asked the question that hung at the tip of your tongue. “How is she?”

All their eyes averted to the ground. Marlene was the first one to speak up, nervously playing with the ends of her blonde hair, “Good.” she said simply, “She seems to be doing good.”

Her words were confirmed by a nod from Mary and a sigh from Dorcas. You nodded in return, pushing your hands into your pockets, “Is she happy?”

Marlene smiled sadly, “Yeah.” she replied, “Very.”

“Good.” was the only answer you supplied.

You could feel the peaceful day you had envisioned falling apart. Mentions of Lily sent your mind into a spiraling void of emotion in which you had hoped to avoid but instead you had wrestled the tiger head on. Unfortunately, the tiger had won.

And now she was coming back to gloat.

“Marls!”

You froze as did the three other girls. Her voice rang in your ears. You hadn’t heard it in a long time. At least not this clear. You could hear the sweet tone of her voice that no one else in the world seemed to hold. Each syllable, as melodious as a birds song. Mary’s eyes fell on you, watching as you shrunk away from the scene.

Her voice was the last sound you heard as you walked away from the pain she embodied so deeply.

Does he take you walking ‘round his parents’ gallery?

Compared to James Potter you didn’t have much to offer.

The Potters were a well-known family. Rich but humble. Pure but not prejudice. They were the picture perfect wizarding family with their abundance of talent and Quidditch skills being passed to their son; a bright boy with a knack for causing trouble.

You weren’t anything special. A single mother who worked around the clock to keep you supported. An absent father who had left when you were a child. Your life wasn’t tragic but it was far from perfect. You could never offer Lily the world in her hands. Each gift came with a price; an extra hour of work for your mother, a summer job for you to work.

Lily had always understood and she hadn’t asked for more than you could offer. She had appreciated the small things you would give her with a smile and a kiss. It was one of your favorite things about her. She had the unique ability to understand and be content whilst you felt pent up with your lack of wealth and inability to supply her with wonders.

Surprisingly, whenever you passed her in the halls and saw the necklace Potter had bought her around her neck, you felt happy. Although anger always lingered in your heart, you were glad someone was able to give her what she deserved.

It wasn’t you and you were slowly learning to accept that.

Don’t you call him “baby”

We’re not talking lately

Don’t you call him what you used to call me

Your final year at Hogwarts passed by in a blur. You watched Lily Evans slowly fall in love with the boy who had always wanted her. She smiled all the time now, her eyes never wandered towards yours and as much as it pained you that they didn’t, you hoped she had found peace.

Don’t you call him “baby”

We’re not talking lately

Don’t you call him what you used to call me

As for you, peace seemed to be out of question.

Peace was watching her be happy with someone who wasn’t you. It was watching her relationship from afar and catching moments where the two of you had gone wrong but James had gotten it right. Even without her by your side, Lily Evans played a major role in your life. Your eyes always wandered into her life where you weren’t wanted anymore.

You watched her take James to the end of year ball. His friends became her friends and she quickly took after them slightly. She owned a leather jacket and often studied with Remus in her spare time. She baked with Peter and you desperately wished that somewhere… somehow, you fit into the equation.

But you didn’t.

♪-♪-♪-♪-♪-♪

So you watched her graduate top of the year, cherry red hair blazing as she smiled.

You read of her joining the Order of the Phoenix, Dorcas expressing her worries in the letters she sent.

You stared emptily at the letter from Dorcas, sending news of James and Lily’s wedding.

Nothing could move you off the floorboards of your flat.

♪-♪-♪-♪-♪-♪

The morning of August 11th was foggy but in the hills of Scotland they were shining on a bride with cherry red hair and her groom.

You hadn’t been invited to Lily’s wedding and for that you were grateful. You knew that today was the day. Dorcas and you had kept up correspondence and she knew you well enough to know that you were curious of Lily’s affairs.

That morning you found yourself sitting in front of a box of memories. What stuck out to you was a tape. No label was on it but a small heart. Curiosity tickled your mind and after a minute you stuck the tape into the cassette player.

First came the static.

Then her voice.

“Is it on?” you said, your voice coming through muffled on the speaker, “Yeah.”

Her voice was muffled as well, but you knew it by heart. Her melodious laugh followed and just from that you could picture her hair, the color of cherries and her eyes sparkling like emeralds. “Well, Y/N… are you going to say something.”

You froze, concentrating deeply to hear through the static, “I guess I’ll say… I love you Lily Evans!”

She laughed and it was the realest thing you had heard in months, “You’re so cheesy, Y/N/N.”

“Well, one day we’ll listen to this and you won’t be saying that.” you reply with a chuckle.

“Alright. Alright. I guess we’ll say goodbye for now.” she said, her words burning in your mind.

“Goodbye!”

The static returned once more and the weight of the world seemed to fall on your shoulders.

You finally let out a long-awaited sob.

♪-♪-♪-♪-♪-♪

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#lily evans #lily evans x reader #lily evans headcanon #lily evans x you #lily evans x y/n #lily evans angst #lily evans imagine #lily evans fic #lily evans fanfiction #lily x reader #lily x you #lily x y/n

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pilot-boi · 3 years

Text

Ocean Eyes and Wilted Roses

Weiss got rejected and was forced to attend the dance alone. That was fine, wasn’t like she was upset about that or anything. Nora didn’t like it when her friends were sad, and Weiss was probably her friend, and she was definitely sad, so it was up to Nora to change that.

(Same AU as Blooming, you DON’T have to read that first, but it would be appreciated if you did)

AO3 LINK

Everybody needs friends, but sometimes it’s difficult to accept when you have them. Birthday present for @harmonylight :D

Girls in brightly coloured gowns and boys in dark suits twirled their way across the dance floor. Candles sparkled in the glass chandeliers hanging above the dancing throng. Tall windows lined the walls of the hall, with the doors at the base opened so the overflowing and chattering crowd could spill out onto the lawn to get fresh air.

Everyone was laughing and talking and having a good time. Some dancing, some hanging half-way over the balconies above, some loitering by the punch bowl, but all basking in the warm glow of companionship.

All except Weiss.

From her spot on the sidelines, she had a clear view of all her friends. Ruby and Yang on a balcony above, just quietly enjoying each other’s companionship as they watched the dancers. Nora holding a bemused looking Ren by both hands as she spun them both around, her exuberance cutting a wide swath through the crowd.

It seemed like everyone was too worried to get close for fear of injury.

Weiss had seen Jaune and Pyrrha duck out of the dance hall a few minutes ago, the boy in his dress pulling a furiously blushing Pyrrha after him. The dress was a surprise, as was the lack of pining over her all night. But from the lovestruck grin on his face that she recognized from the too many times it had been directed at her, Weiss wondered if his days of hopelessly flirting with her were over.

But she suspected they’d been over since Jaune asked her for flower advice. That boy was a hopeless romantic no matter who he was pining over.

Her gaze shifted over the crowd, spotting Penny dancing with one of her guards, the General waltzing calmly with Professor Goodwitch, and the Headmaster keeping an eye on everyone, all with that mysterious smile of his on his face. She spotted Blake watching with fond amusement as Sun and Neptune argued animatedly.

Weiss was glad that Yang had somehow convinced Blake to take a break from her frenzied and exhaustive search, but she couldn’t deny the twinge of upset she felt in the pit of her stomach when Neptune flashed Sun a particularly brilliant smile.He’d come and talked to her for a bit, explaining what his hang-ups had been. Weiss was more than a little surprised that Jaune of all people had been the driving force to change his mind.

But then Sun had called him away for something. And with a shouted over-the-shoulder apology, Neptune had left.

It was fine. She crossed her arms, a sour expression on her face as she deliberately turned away. She was fine.

“Weiiiissss!!!!” called an over exuberant voice, jerking her out of her sulking for a moment. Her head jerked up to see a furiously waving and pink-cheeked Nora rushing over to her. Ren was nowhere to be seen, which was troubling. A Nora without supervision was a Nora who was likely to start breaking things.

“Hello Nora,” Weiss said placidly, eyeing Nora as the bubblegum-pink girl came to a halt in front of her. She hadn’t expected anyone to come over and say hi, not when there was dancing to do and friends to laugh with. She wasn’t bitter.

“Why’re you over here all by yourself?” Nora asked, bouncing on her feet to the beat of the music.

Weiss bristled for a moment, instinctually thinking that Nora was making fun of her, the great Weiss Schnee, for not having a date to the dance. But upon further examination, Weiss found only honest curiosity in Nora’s clear blue eyes. She should’ve known better, the redhead didn’t have an insincere bone in her entire body.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Weiss commented, once again glancing at the crowd to see if she could spot Nora’s missing partner. “Has Ren run off somewhere?”

Nora shrugged, sitting down in the empty seat beside her without asking if she could. Weiss didn’t know if she would’ve said no regardless. “He’s getting drinks for us,” Nora grinned, legs still kicking in rhythm. “Guess all the dancing must’ve worn him out.”

Now that Weiss could believe. Even sitting here, Nora was still moving, she could only imagine how tiring dancing with her must be. Weiss sometimes wondered whether Nora ever lost the energy she got from her Semblance, or if this was just natural.

“But that’s not important,” Nora waved off Weiss’s comments. “You never answered my question!”

Weiss avoided Nora’s curious gaze, choosing to stare determinedly at the crowd rather than at the redhead. She didn’t have to answer if she didn’t want to. Nora wasn’t her father, nothing was mandatory here unless she wanted it to be. It was just her luck that her gaze happened to fall on Neptune’s little trio at that moment, and Weiss stiffened.

“Oh…” Nora murmured, softly enough that she could scarcely be heard over the crowd and the pounding bass of the music. “That makes sense.”

Weiss tore her eyes away from Neptune to glare at Nora reproachfully. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” she snapped. The redhead was just smiling softly at the distant trio, and then turned a too-knowing look on Weiss. The heiress’s heart sank.

Oh. That’s what that was supposed to mean. She averted her gaze.

The music overhead shifted, changing from whatever the bassy energetic pop had been to something more slow and calm. The more boisterous dancers meandered off the floor, making way for blushing couples as the tempo slowed.

“Do you wanna dance?” Nora offered. Weiss startled, staring at Nora like she’d dropped from the moon.

“W-What?!” Weiss spluttered, feeling heat rise to her cheeks, and silently hating how casual Nora seemed.

Nora shrugged, her usual sharp grin smoothing to something softer. “It’s not fair that you’re just sitting over here all alone,” she reminded Weiss, leaning towards her slightly as if this was confidential information. “So I thought I’d offer.”

Weiss was nonplussed. “But… what about Ren?” Ren was Nora’s date. Ren was getting drinks for the two of them. Ren should be dancing with Nora.

Nora once again waved off Weiss’s comments. “He won’t mind, trust me,” Nora reassured her, and Weiss was faintly surprised when she realized she did trust her. When had that happened? “So-” Nora clambered to her feet, brushing down her floaty pink dress with one hand and holding out the other one to Weiss. “-what d’ya say?”

“I…” She hesitated, one hand lifted to take Nora’s outstretched one, the other one curled tightly in her lap. Weiss found her gaze flickering between Nora’s hand and her face. Chipped pink nail polish, of course. Freckles in a constellation across her faintly flushed cheeks. Warmth and trust and friendship in ocean-clear eyes.

Weiss found her gaze connecting with Yang’s purple-eyed one over Nora’s shoulder. The blonde was still up on the balcony, and was watching her intently. Yang had convinced Blake to take a break.

Oh what the heck.

“I would love to.” At her words, Nora grinned widely, grabbing her hand and pulling her upright. Weiss was tugged to her feet more quickly than she’d been ready for, and she distantly remembered that oh yeah, Nora Valkyrie could bench press five of me.

Over Nora’s shoulder, Yang grinned broadly.

Chattering excitedly, Nora led Weiss out onto the dance floor. Other couples were swaying there, some awkwardly, most blushing intensely. Weiss thanked her lucky stars that it was a slow song, maybe this way Nora wouldn’t kill her.

The two of them swayed together, rotating slightly. Nora’s hands at Weiss’s waist, Weiss’s on Nora’s shoulders. Nora talked about anything and everything, from school, to flowers, to candy, to friends. Weiss found herself grateful that she didn’t need to chime in too much, Nora seemed perfectly happy to keep up a running commentary all on her own.

She spotted a newly returned Jaune and Pyrrha across the dancefloor. Pyrrha had flowers in her hair, and Jaune was blushing like the sun, but they were holding hands and spinning slightly just as she and Nora were. Progress was slow, but it was happening, thank the gods.

“This is okay, right?” Weiss glanced back at Nora. The redhead was watching her intently, ocean eyes wide and discerning.

When had she learned to trust those eyes?

“This is great,” Weiss replied, smiling more sincerely than she thought she was capable of. She felt an unbidden surge of warmth when Nora’s grin returned, and Weiss very suddenly realized that maybe tonight wasn’t a total loss.

#rwby #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #nordic winter #blooming #mine #my writing #harmonylight

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the-aussie-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Hidden - Stiles Stilinski x OC

Chapter 1/10

Summary: Audrey is a normal girl, living a seemingly normal life until she and her grandmother decide to move to the town of Beacon Hills, a town known for it’s mysterious and unexplainable murders. When Audrey arrives she finds herself swept up in a world of love, friendship and danger and discovers things about herself and her family that she never thought to be possible. It turns out not everything is as it seems.

Warnings: none.

(a/n: Hey guys! I’m really excited to finally be sharing this story with you all! I started writing it a few months ago and I finally feel like it’s ready to share online. I’m very proud of it and I hope you enjoy! It’s set in the same universe that canon Teen Wolf takes place in, however, the storyline and some of the characters are completely original. It’s set as kind of a part B to season 4 I suppose. Anyway, happy reading and as always, feedback is appreciated!)

---

Audrey stepped out of the car, clutching the straps of her backpack tightly as she looked around at her new school. She took a deep breath before walking towards the entrance of Beacon Hills high. It was her first day and she couldn’t shake the nervous feeling that welled in the pit of her stomach. She hated being the new girl.

As she made her way through the school grounds she could feel eyes on her immediately, gazing intensely at the girl before them. She looked down at the ground beneath her, tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind her ears and picked up her pace through the doorways of the school.

Keeping her eyes on her shoes, she walked through the corridor, trying not to draw too much attention to herself. She wanted to set a good reputation for herself at her new school and making a spectacle of herself on the first day didn’t seem to be the way to do it.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the two boys walking towards her.

SMACK!

She fell back onto her bum as she collided with the guy in front of her.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

She looked up and immediately felt heat rise to her cheeks as she noticed the boy she’d just bumped into was extremely attractive. ‘Great’, she thought, ‘way to make a first impression.’

He looked down at her, his chocolate brown eyes widening in concern and he ran a hand through his dark hair. She froze for a moment, taking in the sight of his full red lips and the adorable moles that dotted his cheeks.

“Hey, are you okay?” she was snapped out of her thoughts when she felt a hand brush her shoulder and noticed the cute boy’s friend (who happened to also be extremely attractive) crouching down next to her to make sure she wasn't hurt.

“Um...yeah, I’m fine” she quickly pushed herself up off the floor, her eyes widening in embarrassment.

The two boys shared a look as she dusted herself off and collected her things from the ground.

“Here, let me help with that,” said the brown eyed boy as he reached down to pick up her phone off the corridor floor. Audrey quickly snatched the item out of his grasp, not wanting to linger and risk embarrassing herself further than she already had.

The boy glanced at her with a confused expression but Audrey was too caught up in her own humiliation to notice. The three teenagers stood there for a moment, an awkward silence hanging in the air and Audrey wished that a hole would open up under her feet and swallow her.

Eventually the girl spoke up, glancing sheepishly between the two boys in front of her. “I should really get to the principal's office”.

With that, she hurried past them, quickly making her way down the corridor and away from the two boys.

“Are you sure? Because we could help you find-”

“No really, I’m fine” she snapped, turning to face them briefly before continuing to walk away from them as quickly as she could.

---

When Audrey finally made it to the principal's office she let out a sigh, leaning her back on the closed door and replaying the earlier events of the day in her mind. She hadn’t meant to be rude to the boys she ran into, she was just so caught in her humiliated daze that she wanted to get out of that situation as quickly as possible, before she had the opportunity to do more damage.

“Are you Audrey Wincrest?”

Audrey jumped, not realising anyone else had entered the room. “Uh, yes that’s me”.

She turned to look at the source of the voice and noticed two women standing in the doorway to an office. One of them was older and had long dark hair and kind eyes, and the other girl seemed to be around her age. She was a beautiful strawberry blonde and her hair and makeup was styled to perfection. Audrey subconsciously ran a hand through her own hair at the sight of the girl and couldn’t help but feel slightly insecure under her gaze.

The older woman smiled gently before taking a step towards her. “Hello Audrey! My name is Ms Martin and I’m a teacher here at Beacon Hills high. It’s great to have you.”

Audrey nodded nervously, “it’s good to be here.”

“This,” Ms Martin gestured to the gorgeous girl standing beside her, “Is my daughter Lydia. I assigned her to show you around”.

Lydia flashed an award winning smile and Ms Martin handed Audrey a piece of paper.

“Here is your schedule. Lydia will help you out with anything else you need and if you have any questions feel free to come find me, I’ll be in my office”. She gave Audrey one last comforting glance before she left the two girls alone in the waiting room.

Once her mother was gone, Lydia stepped forward, eyeing Audrey curiously.

“Oh my gosh, I love your shoes” she muttered, staring down at her brown wedged boots.

Audrey released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Thanks! I mean, your whole outfit is incredible” she muttered as confidently as she could, gesturing to the flawless ensemble the red-haired girl was wearing.

“Oh, I know” she responded playfully. “So what brings you to Beacon Hills?”

Audrey looked down, fiddling with the hair tie on her wrist. “You know, just needed a change I suppose”.

Lydia looked at the girl sympathetically but decided now was not the time to pry. “Well, you came to the right place. Beacon Hills is very different”.

Audrey sent Lydia a curious look. “How so?”

Lydia shrugged but sent her a teasing glance “I suppose you will just have to wait and see.”

Audrey chuckled, Lydia seemed nice. It made her feel a sense of relief at the idea that she wouldn’t have to be completely alone these first few days.

“Can I take a look at your schedule?” Lydia asked.

“Yeah, sure” Audrey responded, placing the piece of paper in the girl’s perfectly manicured hand.

Lydia’s eyes gazed over the writing for a moment before she smirked up at the girl in front of her.

“Looks like we both have history first. Come on, I’ll show you to the classroom”.

At that, she linked Audrey’s arm through hers and the two girls made their way towards the first period.

---

The day seemed to travel pretty smoothly for Audrey after that. Lydia met up with her between every period to show her to class and described herself as Audrey’s “human search engine for Beacon Hills High”. Lydia was kind and cheerful and Audrey could tell she was extremely intelligent. The two girls hit it off right from the beginning and Audrey was starting to feel slightly more comfortable in her new environment.

Eventually, fourth period rolled around and Lydia walked Audrey to the chemistry classroom. Audrey internally groaned at the idea of having to take chemistry but thanked Lydia none the less as they parted ways outside the classroom door.

She took in a deep breath before swinging open the classroom door. Most of the students were already seated at this point and her heart plummeted when she noticed that nearly all the spots in the room were taken. Frantically, she glanced around the classroom for an empty seat and eventually noticed there was one left free in the second row. As she moved towards it, however, her eyes widened at the realisation that the boy sitting next to it was none other than the one she’d crashed into at the beginning of the day.

Hesitating for a moment, she swallowed down the ever-present embarrassment and made her way over to the empty seat. The boy at the bench hadn’t noticed her approaching as he was intensely focused on the book he was reading and, not used to having to share his bench, had his things spread out across the entirety of the table.

Audrey stood awkwardly in front of him for a moment before clearing her throat. His head snapped up quickly in surprise and he fumbled with the book in his hands briefly before slamming it shut. As he stared up at her, Audrey, once again, found her gaze lingering on his delicate features.

“Hey, can I sit here?” she asked, breaking the awkward silence that had filled the air for a moment.

“Uh, yeah sure” the boy muttered and quickly scrambled to move his stuff from her side of the desk.

She took a seat beside him and looked up at him for a moment, giving him a small smile before turning to open her book.

“Hey, do you mind me asking why you chose to sit here... with me?” she glanced up at him, looking slightly awkward.

“It’s the only free seat”

He nodded curtly. “oh yeah, right”.

A silence enveloped the two as they sat there unsure whether or not to speak to each other.

Eventually Stiles turned to her, deciding to swallow his pride and break through the heavy tension that lingered in the air.

“I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about running into you this morning. I feel really bad-”

“No, no it’s okay” she cut him off “It’s my fault. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

She paused for a moment. “And I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I got all embarrassed and I acted really rude. What I should have done was thank you for helping me” she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and gave him another smile - a genuine one this time, before turning back to her work.

He glanced up at her for a moment, taking in her features. She had long chestnut hair with bangs that neatly framed her face. Her eyes were an emerald green and seemed to twinkle gently in the afternoon sun. She was tall, and fair-skinned and beautiful and there was something mysterious about her that made him curious to know more about the new girl.

”I’m Stiles by the way.”

She whipped her head around to face him, a cheeky smirk grazing her lips. “Stiles? Is that your actual name?”

He looked down for a moment, feeling a little disheartened. “Well, it’s not on my birth certificate or anything it’s just what everyone calls me.”

Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment before a look of realisation struck her face. “Oh, no, no. That’s not what I meant. I like it, I think it’s cool”

“Really?” he asked, giving her a goofy grin.

“Yeah. really”. She then stuck a hand out for him to shake, “I’m Audrey”.

He shook her hand firmly. “Nice to meet you Audrey”.

---

The bell rang and Audrey made a beeline for the door, hoping to catch Lydia before she disappeared into the sea of students around her. To her relief, there she was, leaning against a locker and looking down at her phone.

“Hey Lydia” Audrey called and the red-haired girl smiled up at her.

“Hey Audrey! How was class?”

Audrey smiled slightly, remembering how she and Stiles had talked the entire lesson and actually got along really well.

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t terrible”.

Lydia smiled and nodded her head at the girl before her.

“Come on then,” Lydia said and Audrey flashed her a confused glance. “It’s lunch now, I’m going to introduce you to my friends”.

As they approached the lunch table where the group sat, Audrey felt the nervousness build in the pit of her stomach. However, she released a breath of relief when she noticed Stiles sitting at the table, chatting animatedly with the group around him.

“Everyone, this is Audrey. She just started here today,” Lydia said once the girls had arrived at the table.

She was met with friendly smiles and waves from the rest of the group.

“Audrey” Lydia continued “This is Kira, Scott, Liam, Malia and Stiles.”

“We already met, actually” said Stiles, flashing the girls a goofy grin.

“Great,” Lydia smiled. “Then you can keep her company while I go to talk to Mrs Finch for a moment.”

With that, Lydia turned and walked away from the group while Audrey took a seat next to Stiles at the table.

She looked around at the people in front of her, taking in the sight of Lydia’s friends. She recognised Scott as Stiles’ kind friend who helped her after the embarrassing encounter earlier that morning. She noticed that Liam looked slightly younger than the rest of the group and assumed he was a few grades below. She also didn’t fail to notice the awkward glances that Stiles and Malia would make across the table when the other wasn’t looking. It confused her slightly but she decided it would be best to ask Lydia about it later.

“So Audrey, what brings you to Beacon Hills?” Scott asked in a friendly manner before biting down on the sandwich in his hands.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story actually.” Audrey responded and once again started to fiddle with her hair tie.

“We promise we won’t judge,” said Kira, sending her a comforting smile.

Audrey sighed. “Well I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

She took in another breath before continuing, “I just moved here from Phoenix with my Gran. My mum sort of had a mental breakdown a few years back and I never knew my dad so she’s been taking care of me ever since.”

She looked around briefly, noticing the look of pity on the faces of the people around her. “It’s actually not that bad. My Gran and I are super close and I talk to my mum on the phone all the time and everything.”

“Well, you can always talk to us if you need to,” Scott said sympathetically and Stiles rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Trust me, just about all of us know what it’s like to live without a parent.”

Audrey sent them all a grateful grin. “Thanks guys, honestly. But enough about me, tell me about yourselves.”

Lydia came back to the table soon after, taking a seat on Audrey’s other side and the group all got caught up in conversation. Audrey got to know the others a bit better and was really starting to feel like she fit in.

Eventually the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch and Kira offered to walk with Audrey and Lydia to her next class. However, just before they entered the room, Audrey pulled the girls aside.

“Hey, um, I was just wondering what’s going on with Stiles and Malia. I felt a weird vibe between them back at lunch.”

Kira and Lydia shared an awkward look before Kira spoke up.

“Stiles and Malia used to date,” she said with an awkward grimace.

“Oh!” Audrey responded, slightly taken aback by the idea of the two, clearly very different teenagers being together.

“Yeah, they just broke up about a month ago and let me tell you, it was messy,” Lydia informed her and Kira nodded.

“And now it’s kind of weird for all of us because we’re friends with both of them and we all hang out together like, all the time”.

“It’s awkward,” Lydia finished. “Best not to mention it in front of them”.

With that, she turned, strawberry-blonde hair flicking out behind her as she entered the classroom.

Kira and Audrey shared one more awkward glance before both girls walked to their seats. As Audrey sat down, she couldn’t help but notice the slight feeling of anger that bubbled in her chest when she thought about Stiles and Malia together. However, the idea was gone as quick as it came and she brushed the thought out of her mind as soon as the teacher entered the classroom.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinski #Scott McCall #kira yukimura #lydia martin #malia tate #liam dunbar #liam dunbar x oc #teen wolf x oc #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf au

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dinglemingle · 4 years

Text

Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy)

Ao3 link

Robert Sugden was a prick. That was something Aaron was sure. Of course, he hadn't exchanged many words with the upper sixth lad in recent years but that didn't stop him from forming an opinion. If the rumours, Andy's slagging off sessions and his cousin Debbie's tears last summer were anything to go by, then he knew perfectly well what Robert was like. Cocky, arrogant and willing to shag anything with a pulse

That didn't stop Aaron from fancying him though, sure he was an arse, and straight and Vic's brother, which made things awkward when he was checking Robert out instead of listening to her droning on about some pop band when he was up at the farm, but Aaron couldn't help himself when Robert stood there all blue eyes and plump lips

It didn't mean he liked the lad though, Vic had tried to get Aaron to be friends with her brothers, it didn't work. Andy was too boring and Robert was too smug. No this wasn't a crush Aaron had told himself, just him appreciating Roberts messy blonde locks and smooth freckled skin and the way his uniform trousers fitted his thighs so well

Only the lump in his throat every time Robert looked at him and the nerves that brewed in the pit of his stomach when he spoke to him begged to differ.

Aaron ignored it, of course, he had done for the past year when these feelings started to surface, tried to convince himself everything was the same as it always had been. Aaron had known Robert forever, and he'd always liked the older lad. When they were kids he'd liked playing with him and Vic, and kicking about a football every Saturday at the top of the field near butlers. When they'd gotten older the trio would hang around at the cricket pavilion, only 11 and 12 yet gossiping about the most recent drama from school and playing silly pranks on the village pensioners.

Of course, when Robert had turned 13 that all changed, he'd discovered girls and larger and popularity and suddenly decided he was too cool to hang out with his little sister and her best friend.

Yes, Aaron had been bitter, tried to act not bothered, but he spent two months sulking around the pub and biting off his mum and Paddy's head when they tried to ask what was wrong. And maybe, just maybe he'd cried into his pillow one night when Robert had called him a baby and told him to go play with the other kids, after the younger lad had suggested a game they used to always play to Robert, in front of his new,cooler,older friends. Aaron would pretend not to care, still not quite sure why the boy's rejection hurt him so much.

Over time the pain started to sting less and as Robert began to become more infamous around school and his exploits where weekly common room gossip, he began to like Robert less and less.

It was easy to ignore Robert for a few years, Vic didn't mention him that often, somewhat ashamed of her brother's antics, and in school, he blocked out people's tales of Roberts weekend escapades. When he was up at the farm, which was rare, considering Jack and Andy's shiny opinion of the dingle family, Robert usually wasn't there, and when he was a quick nod off the head would suffice, before one of them would scurry off away from the other, usually Robert, off to add another conquest to his ever-growing list.

Aaron hated that. He didn't care much for the drama that floated around the school halls anyway, but something about hearing Katie giggle in the canteen about another girl Robert had been caught snogging in the bathrooms bugged him. He told himself it was just because he didn't like seeing Robert mess about all these girls, and for a while, he believed it, especially when his cousin Debbie had fallen victim to Sugden's charm. However somewhere deep down Aaron knew there was another reason, it's not like he was the most sympathetic person at the best of times and these girls all knew about Roberts reputation

So when at 15 he'd began to find Robert really fit, he supposed it had all made sense. The younger lad knew he'd had an attraction to boys, still not fully comfortable with it and definitely not accepting he was gay, nevertheless, he still knew it was there, he hadn't expected Robert to be the subject of his desire, however.

To Aaron it had come out of nowhere, when he went over to Vic's, promising to watch that new rom-com she got on DVD he hadn't expected these feelings for Robert to emerge. There he was one minute, blissfully living a Robert Sugden free life, and the next Robert had wormed his way into his thoughts.

It was Saturday. It was raining. It was dull. Aaron was positively bored out of his mind. He was sat in the kitchen having a cuppa with Vic, whilst they waited for their pizzas to cook. To be honest, he'd rather be home playing FIFA but he knew him and Vic hadn't spent much time together recently and that the stress of the tensions at home had started to get to her, so he'd begrudgingly pulled on his winter coat and trudged out to the farm

That's how he found himself sipping a milky tea in his mates freezing kitchen whilst she ranted about Andy and Robert

"I just wish they could get on you know, for once, for me" the brunette sipped her tea and sighed, clearly exasperated at her brothers bickering

"I know" Aaron spoke, gently patting the girl's arm. The Sugden brothers feud was common knowledge, and Aaron knew how upset Vic got every time the boys came home with bloody noses and bruised fists after beating seven bells out of each other. He hated seeing this side of his friend, fragile and vulnerable, and he hated her brothers for making her this way.

It was even worse on the rare occasions when she spoke about the rows, she could go on for hours about their physical fights, because she knew that a punch over a silly spat was temporary, however when it came to their slanging matches and tense words over the dinner table it became more difficult. The younger Sugden knew that the words lingered for much longer, that Roberts resentment over Andy being the golden child was always hanging in the air, waiting to strike whenever the lads disagreed over something. Robert always brought it up, how Saint Andy could do no wrong, how he'd stolen his father's affections. Jack never helped, she hated to admit it but Vic knew her father was less than subtle with his disappointment over Robert and always did tend to side with Andy when arguments arose.

Aaron had sat in Vic's room when a fight erupted between the pair one too many times to see how it affected her, she'd curl into herself and go quiet for a moment, the chirpy grin wiped off of her face in an instant, then she'd pick up the remote and turn the volume up on whatever show they'd put on that evening, in a desperate attempt to drown out the shouts of her brothers and dad.

It was one of the main reasons he held such a strong dislike for Andy and Robert, neither of them ever giving up a fight or letting anything go, all at their little sister's expense. He hadn't been shy letting them know how he felt on several occasions when he got fed up of wiping Vic's tears. It was safe to say the Sugden men weren't to keen on Aaron or his friendship with Vic, which is why he was repeatedly checking his phone, hoping the pizzas would be ready soon so he could hurry off to his mate's room without seeing one her relatives.

Luck wasn't on his side today then, as all the three men came booming through the door. Jack was first, the patriarch looming over the table making his presence very much known "Kettles just boiled," Vic said, quickly masking her upset from her family, praying they wouldn't hear the croak in her voice or notice her red eyes from crying.

"Go on Andy, a nice cuppa will warm us all up" Jack called out to his son, who was bumbling his way through the door, the younger Sugden obliged, scurrying for the cups, never one to disobey his dad.

And then in strolled Robert, calm cool, collected, an air of arrogance wafting around him. He threw his farming gloves on the table and pulled out a chair to sit, taking pleasure in the way the screeching against the old wooden floor displeased his dad and brother. Today had been one of the hair occasions where the three were getting on and had somehow managed to work on the farm without killing one another.

Aaron sheepishly looked up from the floor, anticipating some remark from one of the three, but was caught off guard by Roberts stature over the table. Suddenly, Aaron was staring up at the older lad, mouth agape and head spinning, captivated by his beauty. Robert was tall, taller than the last time Aaron had seen him, his broad shoulders standing out as he towered over Andy and levelled with Jack. In the farming overalls, he could see every curve of Roberts body, his rolled-up sleeves exposing toned arms littered with freckles. Aaron continued to stare, only now noticing Robert in all his glory.

"What's the matter Dingle" Roberts jovial toned shook him out of his thoughts, his eyes snapping up to Roberts as he clasped his mouth shut

"You look like you've seen a ghost, or is thought of me doing farm work that shocking?" Rob asked, as charismatic as ever

"Yeah" Aaron muttered, attempting to seem nonchalant, "thought you were allergic to hard graft" Aaron relaxed into the wooden chair, brushing off his true feelings. Robert smirked, before plopping down across from him and thanking Andy as he passed him a steaming cup tea

"Well what can I say, sheep really get me going" Robert quipped, holding Aaron in a strong gaze

Andy made a lame joke about the Welsh that Jack seemed to find vaguely amusing, but just earned a sigh from Vic and in synch eye rolls from the boys, the pair smiled at each other before Rob retorted back at Andy's bad attempt at banter

"Not quite what I meant but sure, although I think that's more your style, the amount of time you spend up on that field" Robert joked, a glint of something mischievous in his eye at seeing his brothers scowl.

Aaron sniggered into his tea, finding the blonde he usually opposed hilarious for some reason, a reason that had nothing to do with how rosy his cheeks were or how attractive he looked when he licked his lips, no nothing to do with that at all.

"Something funny dingle" Andy barked glaring at Aaron, never one to take a joke

Robert rolled his eyes again, muttering something under his breath about Andy being a pratt again, he caught Aaron's eyes and sent him a reassuring smile, something that looked genuine and real, Aaron thought.

"No nothing," Aaron said gulping down his tea, anxiously waiting to leave

Vic seemingly read his mind

"They're ready" she called, holding up two plates of perfectly sliced pizza, Aaron not even noticing she'd left his side, him being too caught up in her brother, which one he cared not to admit.

He stood up from his chair and carried his cup to the sink, before making his way to Vic and taking a plate from her

"Right that's us off then" Vic stated before turning to bound the stairs, Aaron following close behind, but not before giving a tight-lipped smile to the three men and taking one last peek at Roberts toned body, his infatuation with his best mates brother growing in a matter of minutes.

With that he hastily moved out of the room and spent the rest of the afternoon watching films with Vic and snorting at her daft impressions, ignoring all thoughts of her very fit brother.

A year had passed yet Aaron was still unable to shift those feelings awoke in him that day, in fact, they'd grown stronger, and Aaron was struggling to contain his want to jump Roberts bones every time he saw him. He still resented the lad and the pair hardly exchanged friendly words, yet there were a few times when they shared a joke and Robert beamed a smile in his direction, those moments made Aaron's heart flip, admiring how beautiful the other boy was when he was smiling like that. Unfortunately, it was scarce Robert smiling at him and when he did the moment was often fleeting.

None of this helped Aaron's feelings, he tried to push them back and deny them, adamant that it was just lust, nothing more, but it was becoming harder as the months past and with his start at college in a couple of weeks he knew these feelings for Robert Sugden were going to have to go, and soon. He hoped maybe a new school would help with that. What Aaron couldn't have anticipated was that Robert had caught on to his crush, and was determined to have some fun.

It seemed college couldn't come soon enough.

#first chapter!#robron #my work #robert sugden #aaron dingle #fanfiction #all feedback welcome #first chapter will be on here and ao3 and then the rest i'll just link #i'm actually proud of this #it's not the best but it's something #been working on it for a few weeks now #got a couple chapters ready to post #exciting times #i've proof read this and spell checked it but there is probably a million mistakes sorry #.

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papipopsicle · 4 years

Text

AFTERTASTE PART FOUR

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Short!Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether friendship and can co-exist without causing conflict. Including my OC's Flick & Cherry, a lesbian couple and best friends of Y/N. Set Pre-Veronica.

Song: Feeling Good by Sofi Tukker

Warnings: Dom!Archie, Oral (fem receiving), swearing (probably)

Words: 3K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

!PING!

Y/N giggled as soon as she saw the picture Archie had posted, it had been taken a few hours ago at lunch. She hadn't even realised he had taken one, off guard beaming up at Moose as he told the group how the Andrews boy had face planted the turf during football practice. The caption read ‘when you're having a lousy day, i'll try my best to make you smile like an idiot’ and her face lit up at the kind gesture.

Today had been utter shit; Michelangelo had gotten into a fight with one of the neighbourhood cats and lost very badly, Josie picked a fight for no reason in Maths and called her a ‘brain dead bimbo’ in front of everyone, and to top it off she'd overheard Chuck sharing very private, personal details with his friends like they were nothing.

She felt miserable and hopeless, wanting nothing more than for this day to be over already. While the boy wasn't there with her when any of these events happened, he knew as soon as he saw her saddened expression that it was his duty to turn her frown upside down. After an hour of cheesy jokes bad enough to make her father proud, Y/N felt a little bit lighter.

Now, the two sixteen year olds were being blackmailed into making dinner for themselves, Y/N's family and of course Fred too. It wasn't uncommon for this to happen though, since Y/S followed in her mother's footsteps when it came to cooking abilities, and they felt bad for always making Y/D cook. So the blonde had rolled up the sleeves of her grey sweatshirt and pulled her hair into a messy bun, while Archie gathered all the ingredients for the perfect steak dinner.

"Okay," Y/N huffed out, putting her arms up and looking over the boy's broad shoulders to see the recipe, "what's the first step, Nigella?"

Two frustrating and hilariously messy hours later, the two teens were serving their masterpieces. Y/N showered while waiting for the steak to cook, her hair now in damp ringlets as she wore a black concert t-shirt and a burgundy pair of gym shorts.

She carefully placed the piping hot plates in her mother and sisters respective places, returning for her own and Archie's as the boy brought out ones for their fathers. Y/D and Fred sat at the heads of the table, with Y/S and Y/M on one side and Archie and Y/N on the other. It had been that way since the very beginning, the teen's chairs always closer than necessary.

The radio played hits from the eighties and nineties in the background; the atmosphere warm and cozy as the group began tucking into their gourmet meals happily. Conversation flowed easily as usual, soft smiles mirrored around the room in the amicable scene.

"How's school been today?" Y/D asked casually as he piled food onto his fork dangerously high, it disappearing into his mouth seconds later.

"Shit." Y/N answered with a shrug and a wry smile as she copied her dad's actions and stuffed her face. Her eyes closed for a moment to fully appreciate the perfection of her cooking, but in that moment she missed the sad look the redhead threw her way. Everyone at the table was aware her high school experience wasn't rose tinted, and she was never able to lie to her family about it.

"McCoy's girl again?" Y/S asked defensively, rolling her eyes in annoyance as she even brought up said name.

"It's no biggie, honestly. She's just holding a grudge against me for something that literally happened over a year ago. She'll have to let go of it sooner or later." The y/h/c girl ended the conversation, continuing to fill her mouth with copious amounts of food. While her parents had moved on to talk about another subject, Archie kept his eye on her and she knew it.

Y/N didn't hate being pitted per se, but she couldn't stand to be watched by loving eyes when the person those eyes belong to wishes to fix her problems for her. Knowing that's what his mind was preoccupied with, the girl turned to Archie sharply and began chewing with her mouth wide open, sticking her tongue out for emphasis.

The redhead gagged and couldn't stop himself from snorting in laughter and Y/N took this as her queue to close her mouth. Not truly phased by the grotesque sight, Archie returned it for just a second, leaving them both giggling. Finishing the mouthful, she bumped shoulders with the boy, keeping her head resting there for a few moments as she spoke with a grin, "You've already done enough, stop making my issues yours. We do everything together anyway, leave me this little slither of sardonic sanity, okay?"

She sat up straight again and sent Fred a wink upon finding his knowing grin slung in their direction. Looking around the table, three other faces have the exact same looks, and Y/N only rolled her eyes, "Can we have just one family dinner without planning our wedding? For all you guys know we could both be gay and just use each other for style advice."

Y/D scoffed, eyeing up his daughter with amusement, "You're not gay."

"What?!" The blonde's cutlery clanged against her plate as she threw her arms up in exasperation, "I could be!"

Y/M cackled her usual laugh and rolled her eyes, chiming in, "Darling, have you seen your wardrobe?"

"Cherry and I share clothes!" Y/N defended herself, only halfheartedly as she knew the conversation was completely false, but still stood her ground.

"Yeah, well, she has a blue-haired girlfriend and you only share dresses when you're going out because you're the same size. I'm pretty sure she'd rather be dead than wear a pair of your heels." Y/S interjected and received her sister's glare with a smug grin.

Archie silently ate his food, but soon his best friend turned to him, "I could be bi, right? Like Elizabeth Olsen and Sebastian Stan both own my life."

"You can be whatever you want to be, Tiger." Taking a sip of his drink, the boy continued, "But, to be fair, have you seen The Bronze? Like if there's someone I'd turn for, it'd be Sebastian Stan."

"See!" Y/N raised her arms in the way Will Smith had when showing the world his beautiful wife, "This is why he's my best friend!"

They high-fived with matching grins and the bubbly atmosphere carried on until Fred left for the night, Archie staying over in lieu of helping with unfinished homework. After washing up, the three teenagers headed up to bed.

But before the elder Y/L/N daughter fully entered her room, she swung back on the doorframe and locked eyes with her younger sister in a deadpan manner, "I haven't slept properly in three days, please have the decency to wait until I'm asleep before you start boning, thanks."

Y/N swivelled in the direction of her room, cheeks dusted pink at the insinuation. She closed her curtains and headed straight for bed, exhausted by everything the day forced upon her shoulders. Finding her phone, she sent a round of goodnight streaks and scrolled through Instagram before the bed dipped and a tuft of red hair came into view.

"It's only just gone ten, you lightweight." He bumped her shoulder with his bare one, soon copying her actions with his own phone but not finding anything nearly as interesting.

"Well, I fancy wasting time on my phone instead of doing anything productive, problem?" The blonde hummed, not turning away from the device holding her attention. A few moments of silence and mindless scrolling passed before Y/N's phone was ripped from her grasp and set down on the bedside table.

"Yeah, I do have a problem with that, Tiger." Archie grinned at her clueless expression, climbing on top of her, either elbow caging her face in his hold. A light pressure appeared between her thighs with a small twitch, forcing a giggle from the girls lips. She hooked her thighs around his waist and linked her feet together, pulling his entire being closer to her own.

"Oh," Y/N forgot all about whatever had been on her phone screen moments ago, hands now brushing through Archie's fiery locks, "and what would that be."

The boy dipped his head without warning, lightly pushing her jaw to the left to expose her soft neck. His tongue slowly ran from her collar bone to the bottom of her ear, kissing small pecks along her jawline until their lips met. Y/N smiled into the kiss, lifting herself up while pulling his torso closer into her own. Her hips moved on their own accord, needing more friction to scratch an itch only his mouth could fix.

Archie broke the kiss, looking down at the petite girl with lustful eyes as his hand found her neck once more, "There's so many better ways for us to waste time than on our phones. But I'm going to need you to stay quiet for me, Tiger. Can you do that for me?"

As the words left his lips, his index finger lifted from her neck and pressed against her own. Y/N couldn't help licking a stripe down the back of it, taking the digit into her mouth and letting it drop with a popping sound. She nodded her head in agreement with an innocent smile and wide expectant eyes.

Archie watched her for a moment in awe, giving her throat a small squeeze before moving down her body. He lifted her ‘All Time Low’ t shirt up, planting wet kisses from her bra line to the waistband of her lycra shorts.

“You okay?” The boys soft voice sounded through the room, any dominance dropped from his tone but ready to be picked up if he got the right answer. Y/N sat up, planting each hand on either side of his face and pressed her lips to his nose lightly.

She grinned down at him, “I’m sure.” Her excited tone couldn’t be missed, and without hesitation she hooked her fingers into the shorts and pulled them away from her velvety skin, flinging them to the floor carelessly. Archie felt another grin filled kiss skim his forehead, a small hand carding through his hair as the girl relaxed back into the plush bedding.

Y/N closed her eyes in content as hot breath traced her thighs, up and down in a slow rhythm, leaving goosebumps of anticipation in its wake. Her hips rutted upwards needing some kind of contact, but Archie’s firm hand pushed her back into the mattress and held her in place. He settled with his legs hanging off the edge of the double bed, pushing her legs to rest open. The girl resisted the urge to squeeze her legs together, desire overcoming her body but submission overpowering her mind.

Archie’s lips left trails down her silky thighs, plotting temporary marks by nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. He enjoyed feeling her squirm under his touch, showing how much she needed his touch. This was more than just helping each other get off, there was a raw urgency and need within them for only one another. He licked around the edge of her pink thong, another unintentional jut from her hips pushing him closer to her heat as a whine escaped her lips.

The redhead’s hand moved from her stomach to her neck while he forced her to look down at him, “No noise, kitten. Okay?” He warned and Y/N’s bottom lip curled under her teeth as she sent him another nod. With that, her underwear, if it could be even called that, was pulled from her body and joined her shorts on the cool wooden floor moments later.

Archie carried on teasing the girl, licking down her inner thighs and getting dangerously close to what her body was pleading for, but he enjoyed watching her struggle to stay silent and it was far too easy to bring her to the edge by barely doing anything.

“Please.” Y/N’s voice begged with a shaky moan she’d tried so hard to keep in. The boy smirked up at her before giving her exactly what she wanted, feeling her fingers tighten in his hair as he latched onto her clit. But as soon as the pleasure started, it ceased once more.

“You want me to carry on, little girl?” Archie asked in a low tone, watching his best friend panting in want from the smallest of actions. “Want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes, please, Arch. Please.” The girl nodded again, never needing a release so badly in her life before.

Archie’s tongue lapped small circles around the bundle of nerves, pausing again to elicit a small noise of bliss, “I need you to stay quiet for me though, Tiger. Don’t want Y/S finding out what a slut her little sister is.”

In any other circumstance, Y/N would slap someone for calling her something like that, and Archie would never let the word slip from his lips. But in this moment, with his tongue skilfully taunting her clit and a finger dipping inside her wet pussy, it sent a wave of pleasure and praise through her entire body.

He was her drug, one touch and Y/N was completely intoxicated, whatever he wanted is what she wanted and there wasn’t a single thing she would say no to.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to reach the edge of release, with Archie’s fingers pulsing inside her while switching from licking at her clit and sucking on it with his tongue swirling her into a trance of ecstasy. He wanted to play with her more, keep her tilting on the edge until she couldn’t handle it any longer.

But Y/N had a difficult day, he could tease her any time he wanted, for now he just wanted to give her one reason for this day to be good. With that, he tactfully curled his fingers bringing them in and out of her hot core, not stopping his mouth from all but assaulting her over stimulated clit. Her hips buckled once again and this time Archie didn’t stop her, then they began rutting back and forth riding his face until her body couldn’t take any more

“Oh god.” Y/N whined in a hushed tone, her body convulsing in euphoria she finally toppled over the edge of her climax. Archie pressed a final kiss to her clit, resting his head on her spread thighs for a few moments as they both caught their breath.

The girl giggled as Archie appeared back at her side, pressing her lips to his not caring about the taste of her lingering in the air.

“You okay?” He whispered, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her under the duvet with him. Her head rest in the crook of his neck, leg over is stomach and hand lightly tracing patterns over his muscular chest.

“More than okay, pretty boy.” Y/N hummed into the dark room with a bright smile adoring her features. “Arch?”

He mumbled an agreeable response, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Archie’s hand found her thigh and he gave it a small squeeze, keeping his hand there to hold her close.

“Can we play a game?” The girl sounded apprehensive yet excited with her words.

She felt him nod, “What kind of game do you want to play, Tiger?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at her idea as the words left her lips, “I’m proposing a little bet.

Clearly were both attracted to each other, and it ends there, yes? Nothing romantic, just two horny best friends who need an outlet. So, why don't we have a little fun with this? We tease the other to breaking point, bring them to their fucking knees begging for it, and the first one to cave, loses. Nothings off limits, but you can't kiss the other, otherwise you lose."

At this, Archie lifted his head wearing a matching smirk, though it couldn’t be seen as the street lamp sending orange hues into the bedroom only lit up their silhouettes, "What does the winner get?"

"Whatever the fuck they want.” Y/N’s hand made its way to the boy’s neck and she tilted her head upwards to whisper into his ear, “And, when I win the first thing I'm going to have you do is eat me out again."

The boy chuckled dryly and shook his head, "Tiger, I'll be doing that when I win anyway."

Y/N giggled, tempted to throw the bet immediately if the consequence was his head between her legs once more. “Game on, Andrews.”

Archie couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of this situation, though he had to admit he couldn’t wait to see what his best friend would do to try and make him lose.

“Okay little girl, it’s time to sleep I think.” His voice felt more authoritative this time, and Y/N loved that about him, he wasn’t afraid to tell her what to do.

“Goodnight, Arch.” The girl said with a smile in her tone, anxious to see what Archie would do to her over the coming weeks. She felt his head shake once more, knowing a grin was etched into his lips. Y/N rolled onto her side, the boy’s arm tightly wrapped around her still as she drifted off into a fairytale land where this was all real. Not just two friends messing around.

PART FIVE

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patandpran · 4 years

Text

The Nuisance and the Handsome Prince - A Sarawatine Medieval AU - Chapter 8

Tine is an aspiring Squire who has been training his whole life to work alongside the Kingdom’s finest Knights. Sarawat is a Prince who, on the outside, seems fierce and unapproachable. He is disinterested in any of his royal duties, namely his Knight training. What happens when Tine is assigned to be the fierce and handsome prince’s Squire?

Find the Masterpost here Read on Archiveofourown here.

Tine heard the footsteps approaching from behind him and instantly froze in reaction. He hoped that that it was just a castle servant rushing to retrieve something from another part of the castle but the footsteps slowed as they got closer.

“Squire Tine.”

The voice was familiar and Tine knew it would be rude for him to try to pretend that he did not hear the person addressing him. As much as he wanted to continue his walk alone, his turned slowly to face the person.

Prince Phukong stood across from Tine and had a curios look in his eyes. Tine and Phukong had met briefly a few times but they had never interacted just the two of them. Tine could see the similarities between the two Princes but there was something inherently softer about Phukong that made him seem much more approachable than his elder brother. Phukong seemed to wear his emotions on his sleeve while it was nearly impossible to decipher what was going through Sarawat’s head at any given time. If Sarawat was a scalding fire, Phukong was a calm stream - both elements were powerful and natural in their own way.

“Your Highness.” Tine bowed his head in respect to greet the younger Prince.

“Please excuse my candor, but are you all right?” Phukong asked softly.

Tine started to panic. Was his discomfort so obvious? He would need to work on keeping his expression more neutral, especially when he was in the middle of some many witnesses.

He did not anyone to misunderstand reactions, although he didn’t quite understand them himself.

“I needed to get some fresh air.” Time explained but he worried that his tone was unconvincing.

“This hood is quite stuffy.”

“Green really outdid himself with your attire.” Phukong shared and dragged his hand absentmindedly along a row of bushes.

Tine was used to seeing Sarawat doing things that humanized him but it was still quite off to see members of the royal family doing such mundane things. He did not know much about Phukong but Tine realized in that moment that Phukong was very likable young man; the younger Prince had a quiet charisma about him that made Tine instantly comfortable.

“I know Sarawat picked out the color as he thought it complimented you but I love the story that Green added to the outfits.” Phukong continued and sat down on a bench that was near them. “It links you both in a way that perfectly symbolizes your partnership.”

Tine wondered what Phukong meant by this but did not inquire further as he was already internally conflicted enough about his feelings toward the Prince. He was sure that the Prince and Princess were still dancing together and the pit in his stomach that the visual had created originally was still very present.

“Thank you for checking in with me.” Tine shared with the Prince and it was then that Tine noticed that something about Phukong seemed undeniably sad.

Tine considered leaving it untouched but he thought better of it and asked, “How are you enjoying the Ball?”

Phukong seemed to consider this for a moment before responding, “My parents seem to be relishing in the festivities. My brother is making the necessary rounds to satisfy them but he doesn’t seem happy about it. The court seems to be enamoured by the decor and the food...”

Tine waited for a beat before expressing, “But how are you enjoying it?”

“Oh.” The Prince seemed surprised the question was being posed directly to him. “I am not much for dancing or dense crowds. I much prefer these kinds of interactions. I have spent most of the evening with my parents but I have seen Lord Mil and Squire Ohm as well. They seem to have as strong as a relationship as you and my brother.”

Tine could heard the tension in Phukong’s voice when he mentioned Ohm and Mil. He immediately felt a kinship to the Prince’s experience. “Ohm and I have been friends since our childhood. From what I can tell, Lord Mil and he work well together but I am sure that you and Mil have a connection that runs much deeper than that…”

Phukong looked up in surprise and Tine quickly clarified, “I mean, since you have known each other for so much longer. I am sure that you and Mil feel almost like brothers.”

Phukong noticeably cringed at this evaluation which confirmed Tine’s guesses about how the Prince felt about Lord Mil. As much as Tine loathed the Lord, he was sympathetic to the younger Prince’s feelings toward Mil. Tine had noticed how often Phukong attended the morning practices and pretended not to look at Mil.

“Maybe something different than brothers?” Tine questioned and Phukong’s gaze dropped to the ground.

The silence stretched between them and Tine’s fondness for Phukong grew. Even though neither of them could share it out loud, they quietly acknowledged their shared experience and it forged a connection between Tine and the Phukong.

“Speaking of brothers… what do you think about mine?” Phukong implored, obviously eager to change the subject.

Mischief danced in Tine’s eyes. “I cannot speak ill about a member of the Royal Family.”

“I see…” Phukong chuckled before standing looking back toward the ballroom. “I hope you know that Wat thinks extremely high of you. He values both your professional help but also the friendship that you two share.”

“Friendship…” Tine repeated word absentmindedly. Somehow the word seemed unfitting for what was between he and the elder Prince.

“You are going to make a fearsome pair once he becomes King.” Phukong shared and Tine wasn’t exactly sure what the extent of the implications that Phukong was making.

Tine felt his cheeks heating up and fought to keep his tone even. “I plan to serve our future King to the best of my ability.”

“Serve him?” Phukong’s brow furrowed his surprise. “I think you will stand beside him in one way or another.”

Tine began to sputter out a protest but the Prince held up a hand to quiet the Squire. Phukong continued, “Let us not speak of the future when we have such a better grasp on the present. Speaking of, we should make our return to the Ball lest Wat think we are attempting to conspire against him.”

“Thank you.” Tine blurted out and realized that the whole interaction had been extremely casual considering how different their stations were. Once again, Tine was reminded that the members of the Royal Family were very much human. “I appreciate you coming after me. Please know that if you ever need to speak about, well, anything, I am a letter away.”

“Likewise.” Phukong agreed before he started to walk inside. “Now, let us go enjoy this rest of this evening of over the top lavishness that my parents think will somehow motivate my introverted and socially anxious brother to choose a suitor….”

++++++++

“Can I get you a drink, my Prince?”

Sarawat was relieved to hear a familiar voice as he exited the dance floor, having danced with every last potential suitor. Mil, with his ridiculous Bear Mask, held out a chalice that Sarawat hoped was full to the brim with something that would help take the edge off of the torture he had just endured for the past few hours.

Sarawat took the drink from his friend and took a deep swig. He was happy to find the contents were definitely more than just water and considering the sloppy grin on Mil’s face, his friend had a few glasses of his own.

“You are quite good at feigning interest in all those beautiful maidens.” Mil shared and Sarawat was thankful that they were in a part of the ballroom with few members of the court around them. “Although I somewhat suspect that you would rather be dancing with someone else…”

“Mil.” Sarawat warned but Mil, as per usual, ignored him.

“I mean, I know that it’s hard to keep your hands to yourself when there is someone as charming and handsome as me around but… really, do try to keep from staring like a hungry wolf.” Mil expressed with a mischievous look in his eyes. “You’re practically salivating.”

“Narcissism is definitely the least attractive of personality traits.” Sarawat countered and downed the rest of the drink that Mil had provided for him.

“Confidence is sexy.” Mil waggled his eyebrows suggestively at the Prince and Sarawat rolled his eyes at his friend before Mil leaned in closer and asked, “But, really, who do you have your eye on?”

Sarawat spotted Tine and his brother re-entering the ballroom and ignored Mil’s questioning, opting instead to hand Mil the drink and seek out his Squire, leaving Mil to his own devices. As the Prince crossed the ballroom, he could feel the weight of the gazes of the many members of the court that were waiting to see if he would announce his interest in a suitor that evening. He heard the murmurs of speculation of who he might choose but the Prince knew in his heart that no announcement would be made.

As soon as he reached Tine, Sarawat captured his Squire’s wrist in his hand and quickly led him away from the eyes of the court. He did not care if people wondered why the Prince was making an escape from the Ball that was being held not so discretely in his honour. Sarawat guided Tine through the halls of the castle until they reached the safety of the East Tower. Tine did not protest once during the journey, silently allowing himself to be puled away from the event.

The door of the East Tower slammed and Sarawat let out sigh of relief. He advanced to his usual perch by the window while Tine lingered by the door, looking as if he was unsure of what to say.

“You look…. captivating.” Sarawat looked at Tine and the Squire’s gaze fell to the stone floor of the tower.

“I…” Tine began before seeming to reconsider his words. He took a deep breath before continuing, “Thank you. Sir Green put a lot of thought into the design…”

“It’s not just the outfit, seeing you like this…” Sarawat walked toward Tine slowly. He quickly felt the effects of the drink that Mil had given him and wondered if that was why he was feeling so bold all of a sudden. With all the dancing and not much eating, the alcohol had gone straight to his head.

The Prince looked like a predator stalking his prey and the sight made Tine shiver with something that didn’t feel like fear. This was not how the Prince had been looking at Princess Pamela. This felt different and Tine was not sure how to feel about it.

Before Tine could object, Sarawat had come so close to him that Tine could feel Sarawat’s hot breath mixing with his own. Tine watched, completely frozen in shock, as the Prince reached up and pulled the hood slowly down off of Tine’s head. The Prince’s fingertips lightly ghosted Tine’s cheekbones and Tine felt his heart race with what he realized was anticipation.

“Wat…”

Tine’s whisper made Sarawat freeze and recognize the intimacy of their proximity. He quickly took a step back and put distance between the two of them. He was sure that, once again, he had selfishly stepped over the line and was making Tine uncomfortable.

“I just needed a break from the Ball.” Sarawat sputtered. “I should have just come here alone. I am sorry for dragging you away. I am sure you were enjoying yourself.”

“No, no.” Tine felt like he was about to faint. “It’s fine.”

“I think we should return to the Ball…I wasn’t thinking… I’m sorry…” The Prince rambled and Tine felt his heart sink slightly.

Before Tine could say anything else, the Prince swept past him, threw open the door and escaped down the stairs, leaving Tine feel more confused than ever before.

+++++++++++

Tine woke up the next morning and felt sick to his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed forever but he was due at training practice. The castle was eerily quiet that morning, unlike the music from the ball that had lulled Tine asleep upon his return from the East Tower. After the run-in with the Prince in the East Tower, Tine had decided it was best to return to his quarters.

Fong was right on time with breakfast and had an excited grin on his face when he entered Tine’s room. The last thing that Tine wanted to do was talk about the previous evening be he owed it to his friend to give some general details.

“So… tell me everything.” Fong shared, practically vibrating with anticipation. “I mean, well, I know pretty much everything already but tell me your side of the story. I heard about your grand entrance. Your outfit is still the talk of the court although I heard you did a bit of a disappearing act quite early on.”

“I… just don’t like being in the public eye. I let Green do what he wanted but I didn’t feel like sticking around longer than was needed. I arrive, I was seen and then I made a grand exit.” Tine shared sullenly as he began to pick at his food.

“Your ‘grand exit’ that was led by the Prince from what people are saying…” Fong grinned widely and bumped his shoulder against Tine’s playfully.

Tine trusted Fong but he was not ready to discuss the happenings of the East Tower with anyone yet. He was still not quite sure how to process what had occurred himself. “He, uh, just wanted to gather some thoughts on the people he had danced with. After the conversation, I excused myself. Who did the Prince end up choosing as a suitor?”

A look of suspicion passed over Fong’s face before he responded, “Well, that’s the most interesting part of all. He did not choose anyone.”

“Oh…” An immediate sense of relief flooded Tine and he wanted nothing more than to deny its existence.

“Yes, the Prince announced to the Kingdom and his parents that he wanted to postpone announcing a marriage proposal until after his Knight training is over in a fortnight.” Fong mused and took a bite of the breakfast from the tray on Tine’s bed. “Which sounds like he still has someone in mind…”

Tine’s head was spinning with questions and thoughts but instead of dwelling on them, he hopped to his feet and prepared for the morning training. Gossip was not a currency he liked to trade in, despite being guiltily intrigued by the subject at hand.

“So… did Squire Ohm enjoy himself at the Ball?” Fong wondered, feigning nonchalance, as his eyes followed Tine as the Squire completed his morning routine.

Tine grinned at Ohm as he pulled on his training shirt. “I believe he had an entertaining evening. Although I assume he would have enjoyed himself more if you had been there.”

A deep red blush appeared on Fong’s face. “We have only just met! Why would he possibly wish I was there! How ridiculous for you to suggest such a thing.”

“If you want, I can arrange for the two of you to be able to meet again.” Tine teased as he grabbed the sword from its storage spot in the corner of the room.

“Tine.” Fong furrowed his brow. “You know very well that servants can not mingle in any more than a professional way with the court classes of the castle. Please do not joke about such a thing, even us having these kind of interactions is heavily frowned upon.”

“Interactions? Don't you mean friendship?” Tine questioned and was once again rudely reminded of how corrupt the kingdom’s class system was and how divided it kept people. “If you like, you two could meet in private. I could even invite him to my quarters. Two Squires that were childhood friends meeting is nothing suspicious.”

Fong bit his lip. “Only if Ohm is interested.”

A satisfied smile spread across Tine’s lips. He felt like a true matchmaker. “I can’t imagine a world where he wouldn’t be. I know my best friend like the back of my hand and the way he looked at you the other day…”

“Tine!” Fong protested, trying to hide his own smile. “Don’t you have a training session to be at?”

Tine singsonged as he skipped out the door, “I will be your Cupid, don’t you worry, Fong!”

++++++++++

Tine arrived at the practice to see most of the Knights in Training in a small crowd, likely gossiping about the previous evening’s happenings. It looked like the Prince had yet to arrive and Tine was more than relieved because of it.

As he approached the field, Tine noticed that Ohm was standing with the Knights and the group was discussing the masks that had been featured at the Ball. As Tine started to prepare for the Prince’s arrival, Ohm mused to the group, “So, the Prince and Lord Mil both wore animals as their mask design and I have noticed that Lord Mil features a bear on most of his armour while Prince Sarawat features the symbol of a wolf. Why is that?”

Sir Man and Sir Boss exchanged a look before Man decided to address the question in a lowered tone, “It’s due to the coming of age ceremony. When a young man of the higher families of the court, the Royal family or the lords and even some dukes, come of age, they are set the task of spending time in the wild. They cannot return until they have the hide of a beast in tow.”

“The whole thing is quite barbaric, in my opinion.” Sir Boss expressed, a look of disgust on his face.

Sir Man rolled his eyes at his friend before he continued, “Mil did it first and his Father was more than proud when he returned with the hide of a Bear, hence his symbol. The Royal blacksmith forges an insignia that the young man wears to show what animal they defeated.”

“The fiercer the Beast, the more pride it brings the family.” Boss piped in. “It serves as a reminder of their stature, although I don’t think that it makes Mil any more of a stronger man than Wat. The older members of the court use it to judge fighters but we know better than to think so archaically.”

“So, I am assuming that the Prince took on a Wolf?” Ohm wondered and Sir Boss and Sir Man nodded in confirmation.

“The Queen and King were utterly disappointed when he returned with the wolf hide and wanted the Prince to try again but he refused.” Sir Man explained. “Sarawat wears it with pride and it suits him well. The Head Knight never lets the King forget though that his son brought back a fiercer beast than the Prince. It was a point of great tension within the court for a while.”

Hearing the story made Tine’s heart ache in a way that he could not define. Imagining a younger Sarawat, likely no older than twelve or thirteen, being forced to kill a wolf with nothing more than his hands was an image that Tine wanted to banish forever. He could not imagine the Prince having to face his parent’s disappointment after such a difficult experience.

Once again, Tine felt a kinship to the Prince. There was something inherently rebellious about the Prince and if that was the kind of future that was going to be built with Sarawat on the throne, Tine might not completely loathe helping to build that world, even if he had to torture himself by watching someone else sit next to Sarawat on the throne.

#2gether #still 2gether #saratine #sarawatine #brightwin #bright vachirawit #ohmfong #milphukong #gmmtv #thai bl #2gether fic #the nuisance and the handsome prince #my writing #cass writes

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jeongi · 5 years

Text

glasses-clad boy (m) | knj

(gif by: lilac panther)

↣ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | namjoon x reader

↣ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k

↣ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 | college au. smut. fluff.

↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, multiple orgasms, very soft and fluffy unprotected sex with a very in love namjoon (wrap it up kids)

↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You weren’t sure how Hoseok had persuaded you into actually letting Namjoon tutor you but there you were, waiting for a certain glasses-clad boy to show up.

This was a request and if you’d like to see your own come to life, please shoot me an ask, here. They’re always welcome and greatly appreciated! :)

Tethering the pencil between your teeth, your brows furrowed as your eyes scanned the words of your essay on a blindingly bright computer screen, over and over again. You gulped, removing the pencil from your mouth as you silently cursed yourself for not listening to Hoseok when he insisted you attend the study groups leading up to this midterm paper.

“Ah, shit.” You mumbled under your breath, eyes blinking at the words you had written. The letters danced back at you in a displayed taunt, trying to persuade you into second-guessing yourself. Your mind blanked from any content you had tried to study alone, the loose leaf paper laid in front of you—jotted with your brain vomit but proferring itself useless. The library you were sat in was as distracting as it was quiet, the clitter-clatter of other students typing away confidently let you know that they clearly had more knowledge over what they were doing far greater than yourself. You tried to prepare to write for this paper, you really did but that new Netflix show was just so good— you had to finish the first season...perhaps the second as well.

Truthfully, you were lazy and most of the time all you wanted to do was sleep or mindlessly scroll through hours of social media, falling into the pit of all your insecurities caused by people living a much more pleasant life than you. Writing only came to you when you had the surging inspiration to do it; you were useless otherwise. And now, there you were, with less than a week to write this damn essay as the tick of the second's hand echoed noisily from the clock that stood just above the fireplace a few feet behind you.

Straightening your spine, you twirled your pencil between your index and middle finger before clearing your throat.

You read your words again.

“In the end, we reach the mirage and it becomes our reality. The fearsome desert becomes the ocean with our blood, sweat and tears. But why do humans often let fear come in between happiness? In Socrates words’, ‘I was afraid that by observing objects with my eyes and trying to comprehend them with each of my other senses I might blind my soul altogether.’ We treat—”

Your immersion deflected as your peripheral caught a glance of a shadow walk past you. You stiffened, letting the gust of air that followed the figure’s arrival hit you with a scent of white musk cologne. Shuddering as the chill hit your spine, the second floor of the library seemed to have dropped ten degrees lower in temperature. You tried to will yourself from not looking up, putting your efforts to concentrate on the words blinking back at you but you couldn’t help but give in to your curious brain as you looked up past your laptop to see none other than Kim Namjoon occupy the empty table right across from yours.

The open-planned sky roof of the some, hundred-year-old building that was your university’s library, allowed the autumn sunlight to bounce off Namjoon’s honey locks. He raked his slender fingers through them while a free hand dug through the pockets of his sweatpants-clad legs in search of his earphones. He was faced away from you, gently lifting the black, Herschel crossbody bag off his shoulder, granting you a delightful visual of the rear of his grey t-shirt stretching around his shoulder blades. Placing the bag on the table, he opened the flap of his bag to pull out his own laptop before retracting the chair away from the table to finally have a seat facing towards you. You followed his movements, eyes trailing down to his exposed, tanned arm when they tensely flexed as he coolly lifted his laptop screen open and snuggly secured an earbud into his right ear.

You knew of Kim Namjoon from various different outlets— the first being from attending the same philosophy class as him. He had written a breathtaking piece on what it truly meant to live a fulfilled life of happiness in a time where social media tainted the authenticity of people—linking it to some of Plato’s passages. It earned him the title as Professor Jinhwan’s favourite student and it was the first time you took notice to him as you listened to his natural vibrato voice when he read it out loud in class—that was a year ago.

It wasn’t until your dear friend, Hoseok, started mentioning his name where you put two and two together, realizing that it was indeed, that Namjoon that he had been talking about. They were friends long before you and Hoseok had even met, through multiple summers of interning at some software brand named Big Hit. It always struck you as odd that Namjoon, a software engineering student would choose something as intricate as philosophy to study as a minor. Granted, you also took philosophy as a minor, however; it would have been dotish of you to not take it alongside your History major—they went hand in hand. Namjoon was a completely different story. You’d never really talked to him and you were certain he only knew of your existence from the brief mentions of your name Hoseok would drop but you doubted he cared for anything beyond that tidbit of information.

Namjoon was very good looking, that was no secret, as you’d witness the number of girls that would swoon just from the sight of him. It certainly didn’t help that he was incredibly intelligent, aiding the fact that girls would drop to their knees in front of him in a heartbeat if given the chance. Before even becoming acquainted with Hoseok, you heard through hushed mumbles floating around campus that Kim Namjoon—the boy who came in the top 1% in the entirety of South Korea after taking the CSAT exams—was going to be attending the same university as you. But, moving forward with your friendship with Hoseok, you learned that Namjoon wasn’t much of a lady pleaser anyway. He preferred to have his face stuffed between the pages of a book rather than the legs of a woman. It was almost endearing if you didn’t think it was also a shame that he would waste such a pretty face. Even you had to admit it to yourself that the man was a sight to behold, as you stared at him, seated across from where he assiduously typed away on his laptop—god, you were the creepiest person alive.

You peered past your screen as you observed the way Namjoon’s chin jutted out in deep concentration as he nimbly worked away on what you would assume to be the same paper as you or maybe it was a project from one of his engineering courses—you didn’t know. When his movements suddenly stopped, your eyes travelled back up to the black frames atop his nose, only to meet his own curious gaze. Your eyes widened, snapped away from his piercing stare. A hand came up to shadow your face as your head dropped down to your lap. You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment, fingernails digging into your palms because he definitely saw you staring and the thought of it alone made you have no doubt in your mind that your face was tomato red by now. Snagging your bottom lip between your teeth, you rearranged yourself to focus back on finishing the remainder of your essay, not daring to look back up as you felt the burn of the glasses-clad boy’s gaze remained stoic upon you.

“I’m a fatuous pillock that will never be able to pass this damn class.” You groaned, your breath coming out in crystal clouds as you walked beside Hoseok. The pair of you made your way to your favourite hot pot restaurant amongst the chilly, crisp autumn air. You let your head fall back, allowing the fresh breeze of November hit your exposed face. It was a momentary distraction from how much you’d been blundering the classes this semester, overwhelmed by the amount of work you had to do every week.

The same blow of wind shook the trees to let out the softest of rustles—almost as if they were nature’s own maracas cheering you on for being able to get out of bed that morning in the first place. You were wrapped head to toe, a chestnut peacoat hugging your curves with a maroon scarf so thick, you looked as if you were drowning in your own attire. Thankfully, the walk to the restaurant was short from campus and the food was much-needed comfort after being held hostage to the blinding screen of your laptop— with the added luxury of Hoseok offering to pay for your meal. He truly was the only one who knew exactly what you needed before you even did. You had met Hoseok your first year in college, three years ago, sharing the same shift at the on-campus coffee shop (that you two had long since abandoned), and coincidentally, the same art history class. Forced to spend most of your days together, it was foreseeable that you would grow close but still unexpected that you’d practically be joined by the hip before the first semester had even ended. You cherished your relationship with Hoseok so much, regardless of him often calling you out on your bullshit rather than smothering you with love. In a way, it’d be a strange concept for him to show nothing but endless love, the thought making you shudder in distaste.

“I don’t think that’s anyone’s fault but yours,” Hoseok said with a shrug, causing any adoration you had for him to flush down the drain in an instant. You frowned, not having the strength to bicker with him because he wasn’t exactly wrong. Rolling your head down to your feet, you watched how the orange-hued leaves crunched underneath your black timberlands, your moment with nature once again being disrupted. “I asked you to come to the study groups weeks ago. You just didn’t listen to me.” He tutted, crossing his arms over his chest but you convinced yourself he did it because he was cold and not actually disappointed in you, the blithering idiot only sporting a long-sleeved shirt with a pair of skinny jeans.

“I did go.” You said, hands flying up to your touque to rearrange the plush wool fabric as it shifted with a particularly sharp snap of wind.

“Yeah, once,” he shot back, arms tightening their hold around his own chest and you nearly offered to give him your scarf but the boy loved to argue with you and you suddenly wanted to watch him suffer. “But you left midway.”

“Because there were too many people there,” your voice grew exasperated. “You know I work best alone.”

“No, you just enjoy locking yourself up in that god awful dungeon you call a room so you can avoid socializing at all costs—jeez, _____, did you forget the number of times I’ve had to break into your apartment when Yeona wasn’t there, just to see if you were still alive?” You tucked your face further into the safety of your engulfing scarf, trying to hide the tint of rose that surely painted the apples of your cheeks from sheer chagrin.

Hoseok narrowed his eyes at you, “Speaking of studying,” He began, “Namjoon asked me about you the other day.” You tensed in your steps, the image of him catching your ogling stare resurfacing in your mind and you almost wailed in humiliation.

“Oh? Why?” You tried to remain a steady composure, voice wavering the slightest but thankfully, Hoseok didn’t take notice.

“Well, he just asked about you since you’re in the same philosophy class as him and conveniently, a good friend of mine,” he paused, “and when I told him you struggled with your midterm paper, he offered to help with your final.” You halted in your steps, Hoseok following suit before raising his hands up in defence when he noticed the look of pure mortification creased into your features.

“You did what?” you barked.

“Just hear me out!” Hoseok piped, gripping your shoulders as he pulled you forward. “The guy is incredibly smart and he volunteered to help so think of it as an easy A on your final.” Your eyes rolled so far back, you felt the strain of your optic nerve pull as a whine fell from your lips.

You were horrified as venom dripped from your words at what your friend had done. “Hoseok, you arrant ass.” He did nothing but beam towards you, a hint of mischief swimming in his eyes— but still, the nip of fall air felt a lot warmer with Hoseok’s sunshine grin.

You weren’t sure how Hoseok had persuaded you into actually letting Namjoon tutor you but there you were, staring blankly at the textbook propped open in front of you— nine in the morning, on a Saturday of all the days to choose from, waiting for a certain glasses-clad boy to show up. The university library was still, only a few scattered students stretched out across the bi-level building. You had arrived an hour earlier that morning, jittery nerves swimming through your veins as you persistently checked the time.

Tucking a loose strand of hair that snuck past the tight grip of your bun behind your ear, you sighed at how pathetic you were acting. Regardless, you narrowed your eyes towards the clock for the 20th time that minute, concluding that a minute would not pass by in 10 seconds— no matter how many times you checked. It was only a minute past the time he had agreed to meet you, your mind swimming with possible outcomes from this “tutor session” as your leg bounced up and down in anxiousness. The reality of what Hoseok had gotten you into really started to settle in. That sneaky bastard. Resting your elbows on the cool, dark oaked table, you cupped your hands over your face, forefingers rubbing along the bridge of your nose as you exhaled deeply.

“Getting in your morning meditation?” Pausing your motion, you felt the slight jump in your chest from hearing the deep rumble of his voice. You looked up, releasing your face as you viewed Namjoon. His head was cocked to the side as he silently questioned your state while a soft smile graced his face, the hint of his dimples creasing his cheeks. How had you never noticed them before?

For the first time, you got a clear image of Namjoon and you couldn’t help your breath from hitching as you scanned his form. The morning sunlight spilled through the full glass windows of the library highlighting the lights of his caramel skin and bleached the tips of blonde locks to almost white. The flush to his cheeks indicated that he had rushed to get to you, a thin film of moisture dewing at the peak of his hairline. And had he always been that tall? You were unable to help your eyes from raking his lean frame adorned in a cream, cashmere sweater and black jeans.

“I could use some meditation right now,” You managed to say, fingers coming to rub the burn of your eyelids—partially from your lack of sleep the previous night but mainly to tear your blatant ogling. How embarrassing.

You looked back at him, blinking heavily as your blurred vision regained focus. “I’ve been reading the same line for the past 10 minutes.”

To that, Namjoon chuckled, leisurely walking around the table to occupy the vacant seat next to you. Your heart lurched when he shuffled the chair a little closer to you. Sitting with a plop, the light blow of air that followed his actions washed you with a scent of that familiar white musk you had been hit with a few days ago. It tickled your nostrils and you wriggled your nose, turning your attention back to the textbook splayed open in front of you.

“You’re _____, right? I didn't just randomly sit next to the first cute girl I saw?” He called you cute.

You let out a short laugh, nodding your head in confirmation as Namjoon mocked a sigh of relief. “I can’t believe we share a mutual close friend and have never talked to each other.” You agreed, trying to ignore the notion that this felt all too natural to have only spoken a short few words so far. It was a little incredulous when you thought about it; how you had managed to avoid him at every social gathering that Hoseok had ever invited you to. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you, though.” Dropping your head towards your lap, you caught the knuckle of your forefinger between your teeth as you tried to suppress the warmth streaming up to your cheeks.

Namjoon shifted his seat closer to you, the outside of your knees lightly clinging against one another as he tried to settle in. The expanse of his outer thigh pressed against yours once he got comfortable and the warmth of the single touch shot tingles through your entire body. You wondered if he could feel it too. “So, let’s see what you’ve got so far.”

Opening the lid of your laptop, your screen flashed to your lock screen before you typed away your password. “Thank you for doing this,” you said, missing the way Namjoon lingered his gaze on you for a beat too long as you scrolled through your files for the document. He took in the way the piece of hair you so carefully tucked behind your ear fell against your cheek, eyes stopping on the base of your neck where a gold chain clung against your skin. The tiny pendant that fell just between the space of where your collarbones met, took the form of a single, golden wave. Namjoon wondered the significance of it or if there was any significance at all, eyes returning back to your face when you slid your laptop over to him.

A few minutes passed as you waited for Namjoon to finish reading the words you had managed to scrounge up, the inside of your cheek surely bruised from how hard you were biting down on it. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the air feeling heavy while your thinning patience took the form of nervous finger twiddling. Releasing a breath, you forced yourself to crane your head towards him in hopes of gaining a checkpoint of where he was but he was so close to you, you almost clashed your chin against his shoulder.

“Oh god, you hate it.” Your words slipped as you watched the way Namjoon’s brows were furrowed while reading your words. His eyes flickered towards, the narrowed look on his face relaxing before he shook his head in disagreement.

“No, no, absolutely not—quite the opposite actually...this is incredibly beautiful.” His comment erupted the slightest of spark in your chest, the feeling much similar to when you were a kid given sparklers during the summer nights by your family’s lake house. It was genuine and you were always one to be starving for praise. “Seems like Hoseok made an error of judgement.” You could have sworn something akin to mirth glimmered in the chocolates of his eyes as he rested his gaze on the plump of your lipstick-stained lips. Instinctively, you trapped the bottom flesh between your teeth, mirroring his study of you.

You swallowed thickly, flickering your eyes back to meet his. “Why do you think would he do that?” Fuck. When had he gotten so close? Any closer, he would have been able to graze the skin of your lips with his own, the thought so appealing, you almost let out a moan.

“Perhaps he hoped for a different outcome.” His voice was low, sending the thump of your heart to rush blood to your head. Surely, he also felt the surging streams of galvanic tension engulf the two of you.

“That arrant ass.” You managed to choke out.

The weeks that followed were nothing short of a whirlwind of time. Majority of your days were spent with bruised eyeballs barrenly reading over each word of your essay repetitively until you would find another imperfection to fix. You were surprised you hadn't needed glasses yet as the burn from your laptop screen left a permanent hue of red to the whites of your eyes. As the dead set of winter hit the city of Seoul, so did your deadlines. If you weren’t writing essays, you were cramming for exams to test your memory on things like the Bronze Age or the Renaissance Era. You had become a zombie, enslaved to college as you diligently edited and re-edited each sentence of your final essay. It was the last Friday before your university would shut down for the holidays, the energy of students elevating as they prepared to return home to their families for Christmas. You, however, were stuck in your apartment for the three-week break. Your parents being away on a cruise ship left their home empty and ultimately pointless for you to occupy. You didn’t mind it too much though—having Yeona, your roommate, being away as well granted you the place all to yourself. The thought of spending winter break alone did pang you with the slightest of dejection but that was swiftly cut off as Namjoon’s voice boomed through the silence of the library.

“Are you ready to hand this bad boy in?” He grinned, dimples indenting the plump of his cheeks and you parroted one back as you gave an enthusiastic nod.

The pair of you simultaneously let out the deepest of exhales after clicking the bright blue button marked as ‘submit’ on your laptop screens—acceptance over the semester being over, taking solace in your brains.

“We did it!” You chirped, slamming the lid of your laptop down before clapping in elation as the glasses-clad boy beamed towards you with the utmost admiration brewing in his eyes.

You weren’t sure how you and Namjoon had gotten so close over such a short period of time but you thanked the stars every night since meeting him for his presence in your life. Perhaps it was the immeasurable amount of coffees you two had shared over the course of the month and a half while laboriously writing the same papers. What started off as simply a ‘study session’ grew farther than either of you had ever planned—making more time to see each other outside of the confinements of the library walls. You had grown quite fond of his quirks, the most amusing to you being how truly clumsy he was. Not a day went by that, that boy didn’t break, something. Whether it was as small as spilling coffee all over himself or as misfortunate as breaking a chair, he really was a master at the art of destroying things. Perhaps he would destroy your heart as well, you’d muse.

You cultivated a strong connection with him nonetheless, acquiring knowledge over his deep morals and values—surprising you when they were very similar to your own. Through your blossoming bond, you learned that Namjoon was a patient angel, always confirming that he had helped you to the fullest if you had the smallest of questions before returning back to his own work. When Namjoon wasn’t working on papers about Aristotle’s ethics with you, he was working on software developing projects for his other classes on a clunky, laptop that looked like it came straight out of the 1990s. The poor guy had to lug around the dinosaur for one of his classes but you were always so mesmerized when he would pull it out, creating something out of nothing by simply plugging in a few equations. He did maths as easily as drinking water, you had even timed him once. It took him 30 seconds to finish a question that took up more than a page worth of equations. At the moment you were so awe-struck that you had downloaded one of those ‘learn to code’ apps onto your phone. It was nowhere near as advanced as Namjoon’s knowledge but it was a start and you’d never be able to comprehend the mass of appreciation he had for your enthusiasm over his field of studies. God, you were just the cutest to him. The more time you spent with each other getting to know the big things and little habits, the deeper a lustful crave settled into your bones.

Of course, you were incapable of ignoring the sexual tension that constantly sat thickly in the air between the two of you. There were one too many times Namjoon would catch you ogling, a knowing smirk playing over his plump lips as the apples of your cheeks burned in diffidence. You couldn’t help but stare at times, catching the ways his eyes twinkled behind his thick-rimmed glasses when he spoke or how his tongue would peek through the corner of his mouth before swiping across his plump bottom lip. Goodness, how plump they were indeed with a shade of rose to go against his bronze skin. And how could you not mimic his grins when he would hit you with a perfect set of pearly teeth to add to how beautiful he was? His hand gestures were always elaborate as he spoke and you found your eyes having a difficult time training away from his slender, long fingers as the veins running along the back of his hands extended all the way up to his taut arm. You could imagine his fingers slipping past your soaked panties, lips on your neck as he brushed the pads of his fingertips against your bud. A blush powdered your cheeks for the umpteenth time since you had met the boy. There you were, seated with less than an inch gap between you, fantasizing the ungodliest of erotica starring you and Namjoon.

You convinced yourself that it wasn’t just you who had this pent up energy of hormones persistently flowing through your bloodstream. You had noticed, how much closer Namjoon would sit beside you. Sometimes a hand would sneak just on the tops of your thighs or his face would hover close enough for you to be able to smell the coffee mixed with mint on his breath. It was becoming seemingly impossible to distinguish between friendly and flirty, Namjoon making no such movement to validate that he felt the buzz of arousal between you guys lingering as well. You wondered if, in the 86,400 seconds of each day, Namjoon thought about you the way you thought about him. Perhaps he pleasured himself to the image of you as scrupulously as you did.

A brief glimpse of Namjoon taking care of himself flashed in your mind. The image of his bottom lip captured underneath the hold of his teeth, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as he pushed his cock further into the grasp of his hand—gosh, how badly you wanted to see him in that state of pure bliss. You discreetly squeezed your thighs shut, the flush over your cheeks deepening as you tried to minimize the dull tingle fizzing between your legs. It didn’t take long for Namjoon to take notice of the coy smile marking your lips, his fingers pausing over his keyboard as he arched an eyebrow towards you.

“Let’s call it a night, yeah?” His question brought you out of your sinful reverie and you stuttered in agreeance, trying to hide your bashful cheeks but Namjoon had noticed long before.

The clock struck just a few minutes past seven, and you heaved a sigh as you looked through the window to make out the bed of snow that blanketed the roads through the fresh flurries of snow that assertively dripped from the sky. The winter season deemed the hours within a day to shorten, the sun sinking on the east horizon by at least 4pm. It also meant that you had to take public transit—Yeona’s new work schedule debilitating her from being able to pick you up and Hoseok having already gone home for the holidays.

“Jesus, there’s no way I’m letting you walk to the train station in that,” Namjoon said, zipping up the last few inches of his coat before plopping on a touque. You opened your mouth to argue, Namjoon quick to cut you off before you even had a chance to speak. “Don’t you dare try to fight me on this, it’s a mess out there and my place is a five-minute walk from campus.” You opened your mouth to interject once more, groaning in exasperation when Namjoon stopped you yet again from being able to get your words out. “I will get you a cab home from mine because there is absolutely no way I’m letting you spend more than 45 minutes out in that blizzard.”

“It’s only a 10-minute walk to the station,” you finally managed to get out.

“Yeah and then another 30 minutes to actually get to your apartment and that’s not including the wait time for the train to arrive—you could be standing out there for an extra 30 minutes if you miss the one that comes in,” clicking the power button of his phone to wake the screen, he read the time. “5 minutes, yeah, no—I would literally be the shittiest human being on the planet if I let you go through all of that.” You briefly debated whether or not you should suggest taking the cab from the university but quickly decided that he would just make you regret even offering the idea. Besides, how could you argue with someone who was always so prepared with rebuttals?

“Profoundly redundant,” were the first words to come out of your mouth upon stepping inside Namjoon’s apartment. It wasn’t huge per se, merely spacious, and you supposed that was due to the minimal furniture that spread strategically around the layout of the apartment. The living room was the first thing you had seen upon arrival, the entirety of where a wall should be replaced by windows. Your eyes twinkled at the marvellous view of the city from the 18th floor of the apartment. Turning your head to the right, you were greeted by the kitchen, every appliance up to date and themed silver. Kicking your shoes off, you almost felt obligated to straighten them with how austerely organized the place was.

“This place is profoundly redundant—is that a four-thousand dollar couch?” jaw slack, your eyes were practically bugged out of their sockets as you took in the perimeters of the small, intimate space. You’d half expected it to be comically messy to contrast Namjoon’s destructive habits but you found it was neat and orderly— almost uncharacteristically so. You didn’t expect so much black either, not with Namjoon’s usual wardrobe being so variant with colours and patterns but his apartment would speak otherwise, blacks against greys against whites. It wasn’t boring either, merely unparallel to his nature. The place looked like it was straight out of a men’s lifestyle magazine and it smelled heavily like his expensive white-musk cologne—Tom Ford, he had once confessed.

“You know, I can confidently say that I’ve never met someone who uses such an array of vocabulary in their daily sentences.” Namjoon chuckled out, shrugging off his wool coat before unravelling the dark scarf around his neck. You slowly strolled over to the living area as Namjoon hung his belongings on the single coat rack that stood in the foyer of his front door. Still gawking at the carefully placed decor that you were positive costed more than yours and Yeona’s life savings combined, you wondered how in the world you had managed to let slip that Namjoon was secretly a millionaire. You supposed those were the perks of choosing software development engineering as a career—but he was still just a student. “Seriously,” he continued. “Almost every word you say is a cinnamon for something else.”

You halted your entranced goggling, snapping your mouth shut as you blinked towards Namjoon’s mispronunciation of the word ‘synonyn’ and he caught on, correcting himself. He tried again but the word came out as ‘sylmanon’— you weren’t exactly sure where the sudden ‘L’ came from but it was hilarious nonetheless and you couldn’t help the bubbling laughter that erupted from you at the boy’s antics. Through your half-moon eyes, you hardly noticed Namjoon laughing along with you, a coy hand covering up the bright beam of his smile—a habit, you had noted, he did quite frequently.

Your laugh was admittedly one of the most beautiful sounds Namjoon had ever heard and a rarity, he found. He swore if he could, he would’ve sold his life to the devil to be the sole person to make the melodic vibrato drip past your lips endlessly.

“When I was a kid, my parents would send me to my aunty June’s house during the summers, and because she lived alone, she didn’t have a television or toys so she would make me sit and read the dictionary.” It was a true story, and Namjoon hummed in understanding before walking over to turn on the electric fireplace that stood suspended within the wall underneath his 65″ flat screen TV. You momentarily considered switching majors completely if it meant being able to afford living a life like this. But the thought of doing mathematics as a career when you still needed to use a calculator to confirm that 1+1 did, in fact, equal 2, instantly put a sour taste in your mouth.

“Are you a drug mule?” You entertained, now distracted by the soft buzz of golden light the chandelier above you emitted.

Namjoon merely guffawed, shaking his head in denial. Striding over to you, he reached out an arm, offering to hang your coat and you mindlessly handed it over to him.

“My roommate has expensive taste,” he mumbled, taking the coat from you before pivoting towards the coat hanger. Ah right, his roommate, Seokjin was it? If you remembered correctly, he was in the lead for taking Big Hit’s CEO position.

Snapping out of your reverie, you glanced at the boy as he hung up your coat next to his—wait, when had you taken it off? “Didn’t you say you’d call me a cab?” You asked.

It wasn’t until Namjoon turned around that you noticed the small, black parcel tucked just beneath his long fingers. You had almost missed it if it weren’t for the thin ribbon of red that lined around the box and knotted into a perfect bow on the top. It took him approximately three steps to get to you, his confident march rendering you frozen in your spot as he stuck out his hand to present you to the gift.

“Here,” you dropped your gaze to the black gift box, blinking in puzzlement. Namjoon simply sighed, rolling his eyes as he forced your hand to accept the gift. “Your Christmas present...from me.”

What?

“I d-didn’t know we were exchanging gifts...I-I—” A sharp shush blew past his lips.

“Just take it.”

Wide-eyed, you let out a shaky breath as your index and middle digit pulled to unravel the red ribbon. Carefully, you raised the lid of the box with the edge of your thumb, an involuntary gasp escaping you at the tiny, gold rose pendant that hung onto a thin, golden chain. It sat against a plush, white cushion tucked within the box. “Namjoon, you obtuse genius...” The room started to feel warmer, dizzying you as your heart swelled far too great for your chest to handle. The gush of felicity flamed through your nerves like a wildfire, slowly and then rapidly. Your vision blurred due to how hard your eyes squinted from the giant, toothy grin splayed across your face. “I love it.” I love you, you wanted to say but you didn’t, instead, closing the box and launching your arms to latch around Namjoon’s torso as your cheek pressed against the taut muscles of his chest. No wonder he had been so determined to have you come over. You closed your eyes, squeezing him with as much enthusiasm as you could muster while pouring thank you’s from your mouth. The edges of Namjoon’s lips curved up to a warm smile as he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing in return while resting his chin on top of your head. You fit so perfectly against him, he thought—too perfectly for it to be conventional. He could have held you all night and still never want to let go.

“Obtuse genius?” He mimicked your earlier words as you pulled away from your embrace. “How do you even come up with these phrases?” Your face scrunched as you giggled, opening the box once more to have another look.

Namjoon helped you hook the thin chain around your neck, temptation brewing in his chest to just lean down and kiss the space between your neck and shoulder. Somehow, you had convinced him to crack open a bottle of Seokjin’s fine Montoya Cabernet as a ‘celebratory’ sip which quickly escalated into a few glasses—the guy was out of town anyway. You weren’t drunk by any means, tipsy, perhaps, but still able to comprehend the soft glow of the warm fireplace coating the room in golden light. “It’s beautiful,” he said. Like you, he almost gushed, eyes falling to your wine-stained pout that looked too inviting to kiss, too accessible to not—all he had to do was lurch forward and go for it. But before he could, you were already laying back down on the rich, grey rug the two of you were sat upon.

“Thank you,” your voice came out in a whisper. Despite the Midas touch of the fireplace delicately coating the room in golden radiance, something intangible lingered in the air. You looked up at the honey-toned boy, wanting to break the comfortable silence that fell upon you. But you simply couldn’t disturb the way the reflection of the fire twinkled against the coffee brown of his irises—the thick, rimmed glasses that usually sat on his head, abandoned somewhere between the second and third glass of wine. The glow of the fireplace cast a shadow against the edge of his jaw while his lips pursed in his own absorption. What was he thinking about?

“Namjoon?” He hummed in response, eyes flickering away from the fireplace he had so intently been observing before craning his neck down towards you. “Thank you.” You repeated.

“You already said th—”

“Thank you for being in my life—and god, curse Hoseok for keeping us separate for nearly three years and curse me for always shutting down his invites to parties.” It was almost bewitched how perfectly magnetic everything was with your relationship with Namjoon. It seemed as if you had been friends for years rather than only one semester. You two had previously joked that you must have been friends in a past life—the word ‘soulmate’ being thrown around once or twice.

Namjoon’s gaze dithered between your eyes and your lips, a flash of levity engraving in the upward pull of his own as he replied.

“Yeah that arrant ass,” he parroted the words you had said to him the very first day you officially met, and if you weren’t already in a 20 foot deep grave of suppressed feelings, you would have yelled ‘just kiss me, you idiot!’

Another serene silence fell upon you two, the low hum of the heater blowing softly from the vents. Though the thick tension that snuggly fit right between you two grew scads, you figured the only way to preserve this friendship would be to ignore how much you craved for him beyond that.

“I should get going, huh? I’ll call a cab.” You were quick to scramble to your feet, startling Namjoon as he crash-landed back to reality from his own thoughts. Features strewn with confusion, he watched as you quickly gathered yourself before scanning the space for your phone. He knew it was in your bag but he didn’t have the heart to disclose that information to you, not wanting to let you slip away so easily for the millionth time.

“_____, wait.” You stopped, fingers dropping the pillow on the couch you had looked under before twisting your head to look at him. Okay. Namjoon thought. Now what?

Gulping, he ran a shaky hand through his blond hair before rising to his feet. “Stay longer?” His question came out in seesaw tones, unsure of himself and you simply cocked your head at him, flabbergasted. Your brows rose as you observed the way his eyes settled into a plea, his face almost puppylike. “Please?” he adjured.

Your face softened, bewilderment melting into adoration as you walked over to him, pulling his hands towards you before cradling his fingers within yours.

“Of course I will,” you replied, having to stretch your neck up to reach his eyes. “What do you want to do? Watch a movie? We could try following a Bob Ross painting tutorial, I’ve seen a lot of that on YouTube lately—oh! Are you hungry? I’m sure I can scrounge up someth—”

Namjoon’s lips were as plush and sweet as you’d imagined them to be—except this time you weren’t imagining it. Your wide eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back, the tension within his shoulders easing when you reciprocated.

Namjoon kissed you with great need, however, it was delicate—warm, inviting and you dissolved into him when two hands gently cupped your cheeks. He held your face as if you were precious, fragile cargo—fearing you would somehow abruptly disappear from his grasp. His lips moved languidly against yours, savouring, memorizing every detail of the way they seemed to be made for him. Resting your hands on his strained biceps, you moved them up and past his shoulders before gripping around the nape of his neck, pressing your lips even closer together.

“Mm-I...don’t m’want you to think m’ taking advantage of your drunken state,” Namjoon mumbled against your kiss, not making any efforts to pull away as one hand travelled down to the small of your back.

Something between a shush and a moan left you as his hands contradicted his words of concerns, moving to the curve of your ass before giving it a light squeeze. Your hands around the base of his neck slid down to his chest, slowly coaxing him to take steps back before his elbows hit the edge of the kitchen counter. Namjoon growled against your lips, kneading your ass in his hands and you let you let out a whimper. Was this really happening? You didn’t have time to question it as your fingers trailed down to his crotch. Your palm came into contact with his hardening erection as it slowly tented within the confinements of his pants. Kissing the birthmark tucked just under his bottom lip, you moved to the edge of his jaw, his cock thick against the palm of your hand. Namjoon watched you through lidded eyes as you fell onto your knees directly in front of his growing bulge. You were quick to unlatch the hook of his buckle, the metal of the belt clinging as it hit the hardwood floors. “Are you absolutely sure?” He asked once more and you couldn’t help the giggle that fell from your lips from the redundancy of his question.

“Namjoon, I’m quite literally on my knees about to suck the daylights out of your cock—of course, I’m sure.” He let out a nervous chuckle, thankful that you weren’t in the least bit hesitant. He hoped you would feel the same in the morning when there’d be less buzz of alcohol streaming through your veins. Yet still, anticipation brewed within his eyes, watching as your hands answered for you when you unhooked the buttons of his jeans before sliding the zipper down. He helped you tug them off, letting his boxers go down with it and your mouth instantly coated itself in moisture when his cock sprang free. You weren’t sure what you’d pictured Namjoon’s cock to look like but the reality of it most definitely trumped whatever your imagination had mustered. It wasn’t excessively long, perfect enough to surely hit the right spots, however; he was thick—thicker than any of your previous partners and the thought of him filling you up with that amount of girth had you squeezing your legs shut as your clit pulsed.

You started achingly slow, placing a single kiss on the tip of his pink head before gliding the tip of your tongue along a stout vein. Namjoon’s breath hitched, fingers gripping the edge of the kitchen counter while his free hand ran along your scalp. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes never leaving the way you wrapped your fingers around his cock and finally engulfed his length into the warmth of your mouth. You took him in inch by inch, his girth heavy against your tongue as you extended your jaw wider than you were used to. You enjoyed testing your limits, taking him in all the way until the tip of your nose brushed against his pubic bone and the head of his velvet cock hit the back of your throat. Namjoon couldn’t help the strangled moan that left him when your throat involuntarily squeezed around him, inducing your gag reflex.

“You look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around me, baby,” his fingers tightened into your hair, his gaze stoic and heavy on you. Baby. The nickname elicited a moan from you as you began a steady rhythm of sucking. Your fingers were coated in a thick layer of saliva, Namjoon’s cock easily sliding against your pressured grip as your cheeks hollowed, jaw growing sore from your strenuous ministrations. It took Namjoon every ounce of discipline he had to not cum when your lips latched around the tip of his cock, tongue flicking just the ridge of the head. With his head thrown back, his hips involuntarily lurched in a staccato rhythm as he shallowly fucked your mouth. Releasing your grasp on his length, you let him take control. Your hands took hold of his hips as you allowed him to push his cock into your mouth, the head grazing the back of your throat before he stilled it there. “Swallow.” He groaned out and you instantly obliged, the muscles in your throat clenching around him. Lips parted and panting, Namjoon pulled his cock from your mouth before hoisting you up to your feet. You squealed when he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his torso as his arms gripped your rear and began walking down the hallway into his bedroom.

Flumping onto his bed, your legs naturally straddled around his hips as you fumbled on top of him. Your lips were back on each other, your kisses growing hungrier. A tongue poked out of the seams of Namjoon’s lip to mingle with your own. Perhaps it was the buzz of alcohol granting you some courage but you didn’t care either way, you had wanted this for so long and Namjoon just tasted so god damn delicious. It was lunatic how much you needed him to touch you, thinking you could cum alone from merely kissing him. Your arms circled around his neck, his hands skimming down the curve of your back before settling back onto your ass. You moaned into his mouth when he crashed his hard, bare cock against your clothed core. Detaching your lips from his, you sat up, legs still on either side of his torso as your fingers assertively unclipped the buttons of your blouse. He watched you through hooded eyes as you tossed the fabric aside, gaze settling onto the perfect mounds of your breasts.

Namjoon mimicked your actions, pushing himself up before reaching for the back of his sweater and pulling the material over his head. You sighed, letting your head roll back when he pushed his face in between the valley of your chest, fingers travelling to unlatch your bra. He let the garment fall onto his abdomen before hooking his arms around your back, pressing your chests together as you reattached your lips. “You are so fucking beautiful.” His voice low, husky as he spoke into your mouth, his hands skimming past the ridges of your ribs before cupping your breasts. You wanted him, you needed him, now, in any way shape or form. Your panties had collected a pool of arousal purely from pleasuring him and the feel of his plush lips against your own. It was heartwarming how gentle he was being with you, yet, now that it was tangible, now that it was happening, you practically begged for him to fuck you, a whine slipping from your lips. You gasped, hips blindly grinding into his crotch, as Namjoon’s erection greeted you back. Your impatience grew as you moved off of him, tugging down the material of your pants before throwing yourself back onto him. Namjoon’s throat released the neediest of grunts as the thin material of your soaked panties brushed against his angry cock.

“So fucking wet for me,” he remarked fingers lazily finding the lace waistband of your underwear before slipping underneath them. “How many times have I made you this wet, baby?” Through your undeniable lust, you felt a coy rose spread across your cheeks from his question. He knew all too well how many times you had to sit with your legs clamped shut as he sat next to you. “Tell me, baby.” He cooed, kissing the underside of your jaw. Releasing a shaky breath, your eyes closed when a tentative finger brushed up your wet slick.

“Too many to count.” your cheeks darkened with red as you bashfully confessed, whimpering when the pads of his fingers idly circled around your clit.

You felt the upturned curve of his lips as they formed a smug smile against the skin of your neck, a blush creeping onto his own cheeks. “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve imagined making love to you.” He admitted and your heart thumped violently against your chest as you kissed him, sternly, with as much fervour as you could summon to show him how much you had dreamt of the same thing. You moaned as he slid his second and third digits into your tight core, his free hand shooting up to cup your cheek as he held your face against his lips while fucking you with his fingers. It didn’t take long for that familiar pressure to bubble through your abdomen, your walls tightening around the grooves of Namjoon’s fingers. “Come for me, sweets.” He whispered against your lips, your eyes shutting, legs tensing as his words coerced the elastic to stretch tighter. Each pump of his fingers engendered the friction of his palm to press against your clit. Your forehead fell, desperately, between the crook of his neck before the elastic snapped in two. Your cries of pleasure filled the room as a ripple of ecstasy shot through your body. “That’s it, baby.” Namjoon croaked, a hand holding the base of your neck while punishing fingers continued their movement into you. Your high crashed in waves as he guided you through it. The fingers of his free hand entangled into your hair before tugging you away from his neck to ram a deprived kiss against your lips.

“Please make love to me,” you whimpered and if Namjoon wasn’t buried knuckle deep in you, he would have almost cried at the mellifluous desideratum laced in your plea. You were everything he had wanted for so long, not ever being able to fathom those words dripping past your lips. With your bodies pressed so close to each other, he could feel the cavernous hammer of your heartbeat pounding through your chest. Sliding out his drenched fingers from your heat, you watched, mesmerized, as a drip of your arousal glided down his forearm. Wrapping his arms around your torso, Namjoon pulled you off of him before gently laying you on the bed. You shuddered as the untouched fabric of his comforter felt cool against your skin, already missing the warmth of his body as Namjoon left to dig around his side table for a condom. You frowned, extending your arms to poke at one of the back dimples placed just above his butt. “Namjoon...” you purred. “I want to feel you.”

Namjoon chuckled humourlessly, shutting the drawer shut before turning back towards you. “I haven’t had sex in so long, my condoms expired.” You giggled at his adversity, not thinking you’d ever grow tired of his misfortunes. “You’re on birth control?” He arched a brow towards you and you nearly scoffed, practically growling a ‘yes’ as you sat up, arms looping around his neck before pulling him down to press your lips against his. Namjoon sank in between your legs, chests pressed together as his arms rested against the mattress on either side of your head. His smooth pout caressed yours, the lightest graze of his teeth teasing your bottom lip before tugging on it. You exhaled deeply, fingers lightly feathering up and down his back as he peppered kisses down your neck. Looping his fingers around the lace of your panties, Namjoon slinked them down the smooth expanse of your legs before spreading them apart. Watching the way the muscles on arms tensed and flexed as he took hold of the base of his thick cock had your mind reeling already, keenly spreading them further as he brushed the tip against your folds. The feeling of that alone had Namjoon moaning, the sensitive head pushing past your lips and into your heat. You gasped, the girth of his cock dragging against your walls as he filled you slowly had your eyes rolling back. A flow of profanities spilling past Namjoon’s pout as he buried himself completely in you, your cunt hugging every inch of his longing shaft.

“Fuck, _____, you’re so tight.” He grunted, grabbing a hold of your calves as you adjusted to the fit. You let out a whine when he began moving out to the middle of his shaft before rolling his hips forward again.

“Come here,” you whimpered, grabbing for his waist. Namjoon complied, resting your ankles on his shoulders before lowering himself to press a chaste kiss on your lips. It was the most fulfilling feeling as his cock caressed all the right places within your walls. With expert ease, he thrust into you, once, twice, finding a steady rhythm as your mixed moans and grunts filled the room. With each lethal roll of his hips, you lost yourself in him, taking the way his lips parted in rapture. Your feet unable to stay on his shoulders, slid down to his forearms as he gripped your waist. Namjoon really enjoyed eye contact, you had learned, as he maintained his locked gaze with you while fucking you into the mattress. Each moan of his name falling past the seams of your lips had his pace increasing, a collection of moisture running thinly down his forehead. He let your legs fall past his arms and you instantly wrapped your legs around his torso, bringing him closer. Your fingers laced through the golden hairs sticking out by the nape of his neck as his forehead pressed against yours. “F-fuck, baby...you’re doing so well, so fucking good—taking my cock like a fucking saint—god, you’re so perfect.” He spluttered, breath fanning against your mouth and you nearly came just from his praises. Namjoon looked at you with paramount revere in the coffee brown’s of his blown pupils, his brows knitted together, knowing the fucked out flush to your face was all his doing. It was within a matter of minutes that he was spilling himself into you, your walls clenching spasmodically, milking every ounce of his seed as a fountain of your name mixed with profanities streamed from his mouth.

“N-namjoon!” Your breath caught in your throat when a deft finger pressed against your clit, applying skillful pleasure. The motion left you imprinting crescents into Namjoon’s back, voice clamouring, nails digging and scratching as the relentless back and forth of his index finger tore you over the edge. Your orgasm plummeted you into a pool of mush as you cried out, euphoria lapping through the river of your veins. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before, your ears pounding as the linger of your second high pulsed blood to your head. Plumping a soft kiss to your swollen lips, you winced as Namjoon carefully pulled out of you. Your heat tickled as your mixed nectars trickled out of you, slithering down to the cleft of your ass. You squirmed at the sensation, an inferno heating your cheeks as you shyly curled into yourself, awareness settling in of just how bare you were in front of him. Namjoon didn’t seem care though; to him, you were celestial, putting Venus and Adonis to shame with how perfect you were.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Placing a feather light peck to your left temple, he took in the lilac scent of your shampoo before reaching over to his nightstand for his box of tissues. Peppering your collarbone with kisses, he took his time cleaning the remnants of your sinful intimacy. You watched as he discarded the soiled tissue, the warmth of his body once against covering you as he laid next to you, letting your head rest on the heat of his chest. He pulled the blue comforter over your tangled forms, shifting away from the sticky warmth of your sweaty bodies and you finally got a proper view of his room. You hadn’t realized the grin spreading on your face as you took in the scattered books, papers and messy piles of clothes littering his floors.

“What is it?” Namjoon inquired, laying back next to you before squeezing you closer into him as his arms snaked around your shoulder. Your fingers idly drew circles around the outline of his nipple, head shaking in dissent.

“Your room is just so...you.” You mused, feeling the rumble of his chest vibrate as his laughter bounced off the walls of his room.

“Is that a good thing?” He questioned, planting another kiss to the top of your hair and you were putty in his arms, thinking this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

“It’s perfect, I love it.” Tucking a finger under your jaw, Namjoon prompted you to look up at him. He was smirking, the indents of his dimples marking his cheeks before he spoke with great credence.

“That would imply that you love me.” You tensed underneath him, your ‘array of vocabulary’ suddenly vanishing from the palace of your brain. Namjoon felt it, plopping a reassuring kiss onto your pout. “I love you too, you scintillating whiz.” And suddenly you were laughing, wholeheartedly, at his choice of wording. Goodness, he never wanted to experience life without hearing you laugh ever again, promising himself to never let you slip away. Namjoon’s grin stretched to a thousand-watt beam and you noted that you’d most likely die before reaching the age of 30 if he kept sending tiny heart attacks your way. Your lips found each other again, your fingers tangling into the honey-toned field of his hair as his arm pulled your leg over his torso. Pressing his forehead against yours, Namjoon spoke with closed eyes, voice low and determined. “If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Your cheeks ached from how hard you were smiling, never once imagining to hear those words come to life from Kim Namjoon; the guy who had caught you shamelessly ogling one too many times, the guy you had fallen for far too hard over your semester of transcendental bonding. He was perfect, imperfectly perfect and you could not imagine a world without his destructive manners and brilliant psyche.

“I’m yours.” You echoed.

For the lovely @fruitydips who requested it! x

Disclaimer: The essay excerpt I put together are lyrics from BTS’ song Sea! One of my favourites so give it a listen if you haven’t already!

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bloomingednae · 5 years

Text

For Okakuri Week.

Did I just use today’s prompt as a time to finally update Trade Mistakes? Yes, yes I did.

It’s been a long time, y’all; for those of you still following this fic, thank you so much for staying along for the ride. You all deserve this long-awaited update.

With that, enjoy. ~

Also on AO3.

Trade Mistakes Chapter 7: Clarity

Day 5: Trust

If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love’s insanity, why are you my clarity?” ~ “Clarity” - Charlie Puth Cover (song link: x)

October 11, 2018 (AM)

Bzzt, bzzt.

The incessant sound of Kurisu’s phone on the nightstand awoke her as she slowly opened her eyes. Though the blinds were shut, a slight sun ray ran through, creeping its way near her eyes as she squinted into empty space and refocusing her surroundings. She instinctively went to grab her phone blindly, but the moment her hand touched her vibrating phone, her eyes suddenly shot open, a horrible feeling building in her gut as she became more aware of her surroundings.

It marked the second day since she had last seen him, and the sudden realization of her current situation had her almost want to throw up as she sat up in bed. Her phone ceased to vibrate for a few seconds before it started up once more. Realizing that it wouldn’t stop any time soon, she reached for it again with a shaky hand, squinting at the caller ID. She almost wanted to groan at the caller, but felt a lack of energy to even do so, putting forth whatever she had in her to opening her phone and answering slowly.

“...hello?”

“Don’t ‘hello’ me, as if there’s nothing wrong.”

The snappy tone of her senior caused her to flinch as she sat up more alert, but still feeling slightly groggy from waking up so suddenly. She shifted her phone to her other ear, prepared to hear much from her.

“Senpai, there’s nothing wrong…”

There was a slight groan of frustration heard from the phone as she heard Maho slam down what sounded like a pen.

“Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong?” Maho emphasized, her phone escalating in volume and tone. “If Hashida-san has to call me in the middle of the night here randomly and Mayuri-san calling me sounding as if she were in tears means nothing is wrong, then I’m sure nothing is wrong, right?”

Her sarcastic tone was something Kurisu expected, and she rested her head on her hand taking it in with full force. She had meant to call her older friend at some point, but the past day had her feeling lost and the thought of even picking up her phone and talking to anyone had exhausted her enough. Kurisu shook her head after Maho spoke.

“...I’m sorry,” she quietly apologized, almost in a whisper. “I...haven’t had the energy to talk to anyone lately.”

There was a slight silence on the other end, followed by a sigh. Kurisu could tell that Maho was thinking; as scientists, there was an answer to every problem, and she knew enough that her senior was getting frustrated by her ambiguity and unresponsiveness. A sound of what sounded like Maho was shifting her phone was heard, followed by her much subdued voice.

“...what’s wrong? And be honest with me...I’m here to listen.”

When Kurisu said nothing, Maho continued. “I’m here to listen as your friend, and you know me; I won’t judge you for what you’ve been through.”

Kurisu clutched her phone, debate and slight doubt filling her mind. Her mind weighed pros and cons on explaining the situation to her friend, but she shook her head when she realized what she was doing. For years, Maho had always supported her; she was curt and to the point, but those were the aspects that Kurisu respected from her. Maho’s straight-forwardness and sharpness formed her into a confident scientist, and living with her for the past few years made Kurisu realize that Maho’s intentions were only for her own good.

Doubt and fear were two aspects Kurisu realized she had clutched on even more so in the past year and she frowned to herself. When she became more meek over the years was a mystery because she knew; this wasn’t her at all.

And it suddenly hit her, the reason why Maho’s tone was frustrated and almost reproachful-sounding. Maho wasn’t angry at the fact that a solution couldn’t be found; it was her way of voicing worry and fear. She knew that Maho had admitted to her that Kurisu to her was someone she respected. Kurisu never really took it to heart and merely acknowledged it, because she herself respected Maho more than she did herself, but with this realization…she began to see that Maho was concerned for the once confident and decisive individual she once was. Not as a scientist, but as a person who absolutely saw the best in anyone. In the end, Maho knew her more than she knew herself.

The silence between them was extensive and Kurisu half-expected Maho had hung up when she began to speak. When she heard a few papers rustle in the background, however, Kurisu slightly smiled; Maho truly was one of her closest friends.

With an intake of breath, Kurisu breathed in, deciding to hit the topic head-on.

“...did you know? Did you already know everything that...he thought of me?”

Kurisu realized she couldn’t bring herself to speak his name, the thought of him alone causing her to want to lay back in bed. She resisted the urge, however, sitting up and listening to Maho’s response.

“I…” there was a slight hesitation in Maho’s response, something that Kurisu didn’t expect, followed by what sounded like a repressed tone in her response.

“I don’t know all the details,” Maho started. “But in all honesty...that’s something you need to hear from Okabe-san himself.”

Kurisu closed her eyes, expecting a vague answer such as hers. “Then answer me this: do you think that’s the reason why he stopped messaging me?”

Kurisu could tell Maho was biting her lip in contemplation when she didn’t respond right away. There was a small pause again, before Maho responded.

“...yes.”

Kurisu sighed, the pitting feeling in her stomach building again. She still couldn’t comprehend the events from the previous night, and her silence proved as much.

“We…” Kurisu hesitated for a moment before continuing. “We talked the other night. And…” she felt herself choke up and she felt stupid, having to pause and breathe in.

“I figured as much,” Maho responded softly. “Kurisu, this probably isn’t something you want to hear, but…”

Kurisu shook her head. “It’s fine. There’s nothing that can break me down already as it is.”

“You…” Maho contemplated on her choice of words. “The whole ‘not messaging’ thing. You have to understand how much it was for him, and then you stopping messaging him probably also messed him up a bit too.”

Kurisu put a hand to her forehead and groaned. “You knew about that, too?”

“I’m not that dumb to not notice,” Maho responded. “I get that you were in an ever-progressing relationship at the time, but for you to stop messaging Okabe-san after nearly talking to him everyday for the past few years before your relationship was a little unfair.”

Kurisu sighed. She knew Maho was right; her actions reflected that of unintentional selfishness, and the guilt overpowered her thoughts.

“But on the other hand,” Maho followed up softly, “he hardly responded, and I can see why you’re frustrated. Okabe-san isn’t exactly the most direct person; I think, out of all of us, you would know that the most.”

She heard Maho sigh. “I’m not one to dictate what you both should be doing in this friendship of yours, but in the end, as I see it, both of you were at fault in some way. And the build up of things you both haven’t said to each other is the result of where you’re both at now. There was a loss of trust somewhere down the line, and rebuilding it is going to be harder than losing it.”

Maho’s words stung Kurisu, but she knew that the words spoke truth. She opened her mouth to respond, but when no words came out, she hung her head in defeat instead taking in the words as is.

Maho picked up on Kurisu’s silence and spoke with a softer tone.

“On the more positive side, you’re both talking about it now, and that’s a step in a direction,” Maho said. “Other than that…”

Silence filled between both of them as Kurisu began to fidget with her bed covers. While Maho’s words were true, she couldn’t help but feel foolish at the fact that Maho had to see her in such a state. In all her years of knowing her, she couldn’t remember a time when she appeared this vulnerable before her friend and it was embarrassing to a certain degree in her mind as she tried to cope with her current state and taking in the words just spoken.

“Kurisu…” she heard Maho say softly, “I didn’t mean to sound harsh. As your friend...I’m here to tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.”

“With that, though,” Maho continued, “I also want you to feel okay opening up to me. I’m not that great with these kinds of topics, but I want to be there for you as much as I can. So stop thinking you’re alone because you have me. You have Mayuri-san, Faris-san, Urushibara-san, the Hashida family...you have a lot of people around you. Don’t bear the weight of your troubles by yourself, or else we wouldn’t be much friends to you, would we?”

The words which Maho told her were heavy; they weighed on Kurisu’s heart, but they weren’t quite as heavy as her previous argument the other day. They were heavy, but they also uplifted her, a reassurance overwhelming her heart and mind as she realized how supportive the individuals around her were, despite her shortcomings in communication. Kurisu almost laughed to herself; she was being stubborn, and the others had long ago picked up on her difficult behavior and yet still came to her aid no matter what.

“Thank you, Senpai,” Kurisu began slowly. “I’m...I’m not really myself right now, but...I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

She could practically hear the other woman smile on the other line. “That’s what makes you human, Kurisu. I can be there for your best times, but I also want to be there for your worst times, too. We’re not perfect, but that’s the best part.”

Kurisu smiled appreciatively before sighing. “...Sorry that Hashida-san and Mayuri-chan had to call you so late.”

Maho hummed in response. “That’s fine. But….I don’t need to tell you what you need to do next, right?”

Kurisu nodded, feeling a little stronger. “...yes.”

There was a momentary pause before she suddenly heard Maho slightly sigh.

“Wait, Kurisu.”

“Hm?”

She heard Maho click her pen a few times, before the words finally formulated within her friend’s mind. With a lower voice, she spoke.

“Whatever happens, know that I’m still here. Whether things work out or not, I’m not going anywhere; I’ll support your decision, whatever it may be.”

Slight hesitation was heard before she continued with a reassuring voice.

“I just want you to be true to yourself, Kurisu.”

Kurisu took in her senior’s words, nodding slowly. While she appreciated the notion of Maho always being there, she realized from this point forward it was her own battle to face; regardless, the support she never knew she needed was behind her, and she nodded her head in agreement.

“....don’t worry about me, Senpai. You’ve done enough; and I appreciate all that you’ve endured because of me so far.”

A slight chuckle was heard on the line. “I’m here by choice, so I’m with you in the long run.” She could hear Maho slightly smile with her next words.

“Take care of yourself, alright?”

Kurisu nodded slowly, already forming a plan within her head.

“Of course. Thanks again.”

------

October 11, 2018 (PM, afternoon)

Okabe stepped down the small step into the park area, hands tucked in his pockets as he walked towards the bench which he was asked to be met at. Why Mayuri had randomly called him to the park was beyond him, but stopped wondering why she did half the things she performed, knowing she had a reason behind everything.

With this meeting, though, he wanted to shake off that it meant something more.

He spotted her sitting on the bench already, her hand waving at him with a beaming smile on her face. She had what looked like a couple of cake boxes, coming to the conclusion that she probably needed help bringing them back to her home.

When he came closer, she stood up and gave him a warm hug, he reciprocating in a warm manner. As she pulled away and led him towards the bench, she smiled.

“Mayushii is so happy to see you, Okarin!” she exclaimed.

He gave a small laugh. “You mean you’re happy that you’re getting help bringing these back home, right?”

Mayuri laughed nervously. “Eh...well, that too. Faris-san had so many extra sweets that would be a waste to throw away.”

Okabe frowned. “And that’s going to end up in my house somehow, I bet.”

Mayuri smiled in return. “That’s one of the perks of living by Mayushii, right?”

At her smile, he couldn’t help but smile back; the warmth of her personality warmed up the bitter cold he had been feeling the past few days. He began to fidget with his phone in one of his coat pockets, a feeling he had been trying to avoid as he tried to refocus his attention on Mayuri. The younger girl merely looked up at him and looked off into the distance as she sat on the bench, her smile lessening.

“You know, I’m really glad to see you smile today.”

Okabe gave her a confused expression as he sat next to her, still fidgeting with his phone in his pocket. When he didn’t respond, she slightly frowned, eyes in contemplation.

“Mayushii can tell something is on Okarin’s mind.”

Okabe stiffened at her words, trying to remain neutral in his expressions as he waited for her to continue. When she didn’t speak, however, he realized that she was waiting for him to answer. He knew that if he didn’t say what was on his mind, she wouldn’t ask again, but he also knew how rude it was to shut her out of his personal life; she had been there every single step in his life and to shut her out now was something of an injustice to her selflessness all these years.

All the same, he felt himself dreading bringing up the topic. He was never one to talk about his feelings on the subject; the closest it had been surfaced was through his conversation with Daru a few days prior, but even then, it felt stiff and guarded. Looking back now, Okabe knew that he should have talked about it and that Daru was only helping him; even now, he knew that Mayuri was helping him, but…

He heard Mayuri hum softly before she began to stand up, dusting off her skirt as she stood. She smiled a bit at Okabe.

“Well, I guess we should take these home now….”

Something stirred within Okabe as he watched her stand up, a bittersweet smile on her expression. It was something that softened his heart and before he could stop himself, he found himself grabbing on to Mayuri’s wrist as she began to reach for the boxes, her stopping with surprise. She didn’t so much flinch, but she was puzzled as she slowly released the boxes back to their place on the bench.

“Okarin…?”

He loosened his grip on her wrist, realizing that he must have grabbed her with more force than he intended, and was at a loss of words; when he couldn’t figure out what to say, he merely tugged at her, a signal she took as sitting back on the bench, her eyes in question as she stared at him. When he didn’t speak, Mayuri slowly loosened his hand around her wrist and placed her hand in his instead, an action she so often did when he couldn’t find the words to say to her. With a slight squeeze, she looked straight in front of her, slight concern lacing her words as she spoke.

“...Mayushii doesn’t know what’s going on, but I know you’re hurting, Okarin. And...it hurts Mayushii too. But even if Mayushii doesn’t know what’s going on, just know that Mayushii is always here, okay?”

Okabe kept his gaze away from Mayuri’s as he stared off into the distance as well. He knew that the younger girl already picked up on his aloof personality, growing more so in the recent two years. With a heavy heart, he slowly and selectively chose his next words, a regretful tone within them as he spoke.

“...if you were faced with a decision that could potentially ruin the only connection you had with someone, would you still explain to them your viewpoint, or leave everything as is?”

With his question, he heard Mayuri softly chuckle, a reaction which he didn’t expect. He eyed her curiously, feigned offense in his eyes.

“Hey, what’s so funny about what I asked?”

Mayuri finally looked at him, a soft smile on her expression. “It’s just, that doesn’t sound like the Okarin that Mayushii knows.”

Okabe watched her, confused, as she turned her gaze away from him once more. “Mayushii knows Okarin. Okarin does whatever he can for the people he cares for; sometimes he’s reckless, but that’s the charm of it all. He still pushes forward even if it meant sacrificing a bit of his sanity, to say the least.”

She frowned suddenly as she paused, her eyes becoming more guarded. “But because Mayushii knows Okarin, Mayushii can also see that he’s suffering. He wants to tell the person he loves most how much he loves her, but he can’t because he’s afraid what would happen to their bond.”

Okabe almost choked hearing Mayuri’s words; while correct, it was said so bluntly and straightforward, and he felt himself slightly flush from her words. From his peripheral vision, he could see her smile a bit again and he felt another gentle squeeze from her hand.

“Mayushii doesn’t know what happened in the past few years, but it’s clear enough that it’s done a lot of hurt for Okarin.”

She looked up at him again, and this time, a serious expression spread across her as she stared at him directly.

“It’s been so many years since Mayushii has known you, and Mayushii thinks it’s about time that you should be kinder to yourself.” He felt her grasp his hand a little more firm this time with a bittersweet smile on her face.

“You have a hard time opening up, but Mayushii thinks it’s high time that you’re honest not only to yourself, but to Kurisu-chan as well. She’ll appreciate it, really.”

Okabe blinked away, turning from her honest eyes and he shook his head. Leave it to Mayuri to hit the nail on the head for his conflicting emotions; nothing could be hidden from her, even his inner conflicts and thoughts regarding the person in question. But it was that honesty and straightforwardness that he’s noticed has grown within Mayuri; while straightforward before, Mayuri now presents in soft but firm confidence, delicately guiding the people whom she loved in the best way suitable for the individual. There was something about her upfront honesty that developed over the years that allowed her to not only be a guide but an even more close and precious friend than before. The selflessness which she portrayed over the years had only grown, with the intent to always help others before herself.

Okabe felt the inner emotions conflicting once more as he breathed in, an attempt to keep himself together. When he couldn’t find the words to speak in full sentences, he spoke simply instead, hoping it would convey the feelings he felt inside.

“...I’m afraid.”

Mayuri nodded. “I know.”

His vision began to blur. “She means a lot to me, more than I can explain.”

A nod again. “I know.”

He felt himself breaking apart again, only the second time he had done so over so many years; for a moment, he felt weak and unexplainably disgusted with himself, showing the vulnerable side of him to her, but realized that she was the last person to ever judge him and it was enough for him to rub his temples in an attempt to hide potential tears again.

“...I love her.”

The last few words came out barely above a whisper, a confession he hadn’t ever dare to say aloud at all; it were those last words that had broken all walls as he grasped Mayuri’s hand, the only thing he felt grounded to at that moment. No tears ran this time, he was grateful for that, but it was replaced with a raw sadness that ate away his inner thoughts and insides. He felt Mayuri release her grasp from his as she pulled him closer to her in a warm embrace. The cooler weather had been a chill to his heart, but as he felt her arms around him, feeling the care and honest compassion from her, he sighed as he realized those last few words were what needed to be said out of his heart. He could feel Mayuri rubbing his back in slow, reassuring circles as she spoke quietly.

“I know.”

They sat in quiet silence for a few moments, letting the weather and the day become gradually cooler. Okabe didn’t overlook the fact that she had, for once, used “I” to refer to herself; it were little things such as that had him realize the difference in tone and seriousness Mayuri had taken into speaking with him. For the first time, Okabe felt comfort since Kurisu’s arrival in Japan; though not completely strong, he knew that the broken pieces of himself were supported by everyone in the lab, most especially by Mayuri. He sighed deeply; despite his emotional state, she still stayed around for him, carefully regarding his unannounced feelings all these years and patiently waiting for the day until he proclaimed it himself. Mayuri was of a different kind, he realized, and feelings of appreciation felt nearly not enough to truly feel the over-bursting emotions of gratefulness for her in his heart.

Instead, he smiled a bit, response in tow to her previous answer.

“If you know so much, then what is it that you don’t know?”

Mayuri laughed a little, picking up on his attempt to be light hearted once more.

“I don’t know why Okarin is still moping near Mayushii when Mayushii has said all that she can.”

Okabe laughed a little at her joke; though there was a heaviness still lying in his heart as he sat up straight, he realized that the only way to move was forward. She had given him more than enough strength to keep going, and it was all he could do to move on his own.

Mayuri stood up from their bench spot, picking up a few boxes as she did so. She smiled a bit, nodding at the rest of them.

“Help Mayushii bring them back home, okay?”

------

October 11, 2018 (Early Evening)

Okabe only stayed briefly to drop off Mayuri back at her home (couple of boxes in tow in his arms, his suspicions correct about taking a few home with him) before turning back towards the direction of his home. He vaguely felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as he walked off, surmising to himself to take a look at it once he was in the confines of his room; he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face what the message said, since he had a vague feeling on who it was that sent it.

As soon as Okabe was out of sight, Mayuri sighed a breath of relief, going inside once more to grab her purse. It was early evening by this time, and she knew it’d be a shot in the dark to attempt, but she decided in her heart that it was the only way, seeing how the current situation was.

She made her way down the streets back to the train station, hoping the lines towards Ginza weren’t as crowded with the rush hour traffic.

---

October 11, 2018 (PM, Early Evening)

Kurisu sighed as she grasped the plastic bag in her hand, her dinner (and in fact, her only meal of the day) in tow. She hadn’t had much of an appetite as of late, but the realization of eating and maintaining a decent amount of strength overrode her emotions, as rationale naturally took over. She wasn’t one to succumb to her emotions and it made her feel weak and disgusted with herself, so she tried her best to maintain a bit of normalcy that she was used to prior to the current situation.

She frowned as she glanced at her phone once more, her Rine message clearly unresponded to. While it was short and implied her intentions, she also wished a response in likewise would be sent, as some reassurance.

Me (16:40) I’ll be going to the lab tomorrow evening. (read)

While it wasn’t the clearest message, she surmised, she also knew that she didn’t need to explain herself; with the way their last conversation ended, it was clear that they both needed to talk again, whether it be a good outcome or not. The only reassurance that she received from the message was the small “read” receipt that marked his acknowledgement to her message; he had seen it, and since he didn’t have any other responses, she concluded that he would be there as well.

It still unsettled her, however, as the same raw feeling from this morning tempted to eat its way back into her inner emotions. She clutched her plastic bag a little tighter, power walking faster towards the automatic doors of her hotel. She suddenly felt bare and exposed, the need to want to hide in her room beginning to seep back into her. It was an unending cycle of confidence and fear, something completely different than her rational mind was accustomed to.

Her intention was to make a beeline for the elevators to return to her room, but a faint color of familiar light blue and pink caught her eye as she realized someone had stood the moment she entered through the automatic doors. Turning in surprise, her eyes widened as the individual smiled apologetically, waving her over to the lobby chairs.

Kurisu power walked towards the younger girl, who embraced her into a warm hug almost immediately.

“Mayuri?! W-why...how?”

Mayuri pulled away, still smiling as she did so. She pulled up her phone and nodded apologetically.

“Sorry, Kuris-chan, Mayushii asked Hiyajo-san where you were staying because it was so hard to remember…”

Kurisu shook her head. “Oh, no, it’s fine; in fact, I’m happy to see you.”

Mayuri’s eyes lit up, warming Kurisu’s heart a bit more. “Really? Mayushii is so glad to hear that!” Mayuri turned back around towards her purse and seat, Kurisu following suit as she sat on the seat across from her. Mayuri sat down as well, her smile slightly diminishing with the next few words.

“Mayushii was just...worried that Kuris-chan wouldn’t want to be seen right now.”

Kurisu glanced at Mayuri, understanding the implication of her words. While the words of the argument between her and Okabe still rang in her ears, she couldn’t imagine the position which Mayuri found herself in.

After she had shut the door of the lab apartment, Kurisu found herself crying with unexplainable emotions; it was confusing to her, to realize that her heart cared for Okabe more than she could fully understand, that it caused her to break down almost immediately afterwards.

What she didn’t know as she broke down, was that Mayuri had been standing on the stairs of the stairwell for some time, a shocked look in her eyes as she witnessed Kurisu unfold before her. Mayuri slowly approached Kurisu as she cried, keeping her in her arms until the tears no longer flowed and only hiccups remained.

The journey from the lab back to her hotel was a blur afterwards; she could only vaguely remember telling Mayuri where to go, and nearly collapsing on to her bed as soon as she was in the room. She also remembered Mayuri gently bringing her towards the shower, a task Kurisu somehow managed to perform in her harried state, with a quick bath which Mayuri had prepared while she showered. As soon as she was dry, she remembered Mayuri telling her to sit near the sink of the restroom as she came in with a chair; Mayuri proceeded to unwrap the towel from her head and gently combed out her hair as she dried it with a blow dryer.

She couldn’t be bothered to eat, she remembered, and automatically went to bed. Mayuri had draped the heavy blankets over her and everything else went black afterwards.

With the way Maho had called her earlier this morning, Kurisu concluded that Mayuri probably had called her right after.

The events of the previous day began to flash in Kurisu’s mind and she couldn’t help but feel a mix of shame and appreciativeness towards the younger girl; Mayuri had done more than she could have asked for, and for her to visit her again had her feeling unsettled with riddled guilt.

As if sensing it, Mayuri shook her head.

“Don’t worry about Mayushii, Kurisu-chan; you have a lot to think about as it is.”

Kurisu slowly nodded, sighing as she did so.

“...thank you.”

She earned a smile from Mayuri, who merely watched her with careful regard. Kurisu looked away, the unsettling feeling coming in once more. As if to break the small silence, Mayuri spoke quietly.

“You know...Mayushii was really worried. Everything that happened…”

Kurisu clutched the corner of her cardigan, guilt overcoming her.

“I’m sorry, I’m…” Kurisu took in a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry you had to see that, that you had to get involved in this, that you had to hear everything…”

Mayuri slightly frowned. “That’s okay; Mayushii was...on the way to check on Okarin, anyway.”

Kurisu began to fidget with her cardigan, words escaping her as she debated how to approach the topic. When nothing else came to mind, she merely glanced away, slight shame in her voice.

“...how much did you hear?”

When Mayuri gave no response, Kurisu only sighed. Her silence spoke volumes as Kurisu shamefully downcasted her eyes.

“This issue…”

“This issue is something Mayushii should have checked on a long time ago,” Mayuri interjected gently. “Kurisu-chan...there are some things that you have to realize about Okarin; he...he’s changed a lot, you know?”

She shook her head. “Of course you know. That’s a silly statement.”

Kurisu hitched a breath; she wasn’t surprised that Mayuri would understand the close friendship she had with Okabe years ago, but the current predicament made it feel like that had all happened in another life time.

A tingling sense of familiarity overcame her again when that thought crossed her mind, but she shook it off again.

Mayuri continued. “Okarin...he never yells about anything. Maybe when it’s Kyouma speaking, but...Okarin himself never really yells or protest about anything.”

She glanced up at Kurisu, a bittersweet smiling forming. “And that’s why, Mayushii thinks whatever happened was so important.”

“It didn’t sound pleasant,” Mayuri continued, “but Mayushii knows it’s a step into some direction. Somewhere that the two of you have never crossed before. Whether it’s...good or bad, Mayushii doesn’t know, but the only thing Mayushii can tell you is this.”

She gently took Kurisu’s hand in hers and clasped it firmly. “Okarin only really speaks up when he cares about something so much, that his heart can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t like to let anyone in...and Mayushii believes you know that.”

“So this means that whatever is bothering Okarin is really bothering him; that tells Mayushii that this is important.”

She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again, a bittersweet look in her eyes. “Mayushii can’t tell you what to do, but…”

Mayuri nodded a bit before speaking in a more subdued tone. There was a heaviness in her tone, and Kurisu took note of it as she spoke.

“...trust him, okay? Trust that Okarin will eventually be able to tell you everything you need to know, because...he will one day. Maybe not tonight, but Mayushii believes he will.”

She gave a squeeze on Kurisu’s hand as she gave a small smile. “And trust yourself, Kurisu-chan. Mayushii think you’re being too hard on yourself, but you know more than you think you do and it’s time you listen to yourself here,” Mayuri points at the location of Kurisu’s heart, “rather than up here,” she finishes as she points to her head.

“What’s going on up here is making you not think clearly…! So Mayushii thinks it’s time that you really start listening to yourself.”

She gave a nod again, as she smiled. “Everything will be alright, okay? Mayushii believes in both of you.”

The way her hand was wrapped around Mayuri’s with such a wide smile on the younger girl’s face...Kurisu felt both ashamed and elated at Mayuri’s support at the same time. It was enough to leave her in a loss of words as she couldn’t figure out a response to say in earnest, mouth attempting to form words with no sound coming through. Mayuri laughed at Kurisu’s reaction and she shook her head.

“Mayushii is okay. Okarin will be okay. And you, Kurisu-chan will be okay too. Take it one step at a time, okay?’’

One step.

One step towards reunion, or destruction?

This, Kurisu told herself, will never leave her thoughts as she thought of the worst case scenario: Okabe not showing up or even listening to her thoughts.

But Mayuri was right. Trust yourself, and you’ll be able to trust the ones you love.

She’d have to do this simultaneously, Kurisu realized, but it was now or never.

With a thankful heart, Kurisu took Mayuri’s hand, tears slightly brimming her eyes as she smiled back. There were no words of appreciation she could express, and she found herself only being able to nod, much to Mayuri’s amusement as she laughed a little at Kurisu’s response.

“Mayuri…” Kurisu started as she nodded. “I will. I’ll listen to you, to what he says, and most of all..what I feel too.”

Mayuri smiled at her response as she stood and gave Kurisu a warm and enveloping hug, full of a reassurance which Kurisu took full-heartedly.

“I’ll always be here, okay?”

---------

The words of Mayuri were the only thing moving her forward; she felt she would’ve backtracked otherwise.

But there was no backing out anymore; now, or never.

Trust him. Trust what your feelings say.

Kurisu began to walk up the steps of the lab; upon entering the room and placing her shoes off to the side, the familiar backside of his figure came into view as he was turned away from her, sitting on the computer desk chair.

She inhaled and exhaled, and with a burdened heart, she spoke.

“...please listen to what I have to say.”

#okakuriweek2019 #steins;gate #okakuri #blooming drabbles s;g

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bensboynton · 5 years

Text

Good Enough b.h; Part 2

part 1 is in my masterlist: link in my blog description

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of drugs/alcohol, infidelity(PLS DON’T CHEAT ON YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD)

feedback would be greatly appreciated:)

Key: Y/BF/N = your boyfriend’s name

A/N: this gets heavy towards the middle and end, but i promise part three will be really fluffy and have a lot more ben in it okay? okay.

also i should probably mention that your boyfriend is also an extremely successful singer.

“Gwil, you’re needed on set.” Gwilym rolled his eyes playfully, looking over at you. “I’ve just sat down!” you giggled at the man’s exasperated response, lightly tapping his leg with your foot as he stood up to leave.

“Go get em’ tiger.” you murmured as he gave you a thumbs up, flipping his mop of brown curly hair over his shoulder. You laughed and turned your attention back to the book currently laying in your lap.

The PA’s voice had interrupted the extremely interesting conversation you were having with Gwilym; a heated debate over the better type of chocolate. Clearly, dark chocolate was superior, but Gwil was very passionate about milk chocolate.

You had only been working on the set of the movie for a few days, (you weren’t exactly sure how many, though. Due to the ever-present jet lag and SEVERE lack of sleep, the days were starting to melt together) but you already felt like your cast mates were your second family. You had grown especially close with Gwilym and Joe, who acted like your big brothers.

So far, you had already had one lack-of-sleep-induced mental breakdown, (these happened more often than you’d like to admit) and both Gwilym and Joe were there to comfort you every step of the way.

You began blocking out the rest of the world as you focused on the story sitting in your lap. It was the original Romeo and Juliet play, one of your favorites. Since minoring in creative writing in college, you had become quite the sucker for Shakespeare.

“Romeo and Juliet, eh?” you heard a deep British voice echo from your left. You spun a piece of your hair around your finger, meeting the forest green eyes of the only other man in the room. “One of my favorites,” he continued, biting into a green apple in his large hand.

“These violent delights have violent ends,” Ben spoke dramatically, “or something like that.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip as he made his way over to sit down on the couch opposite of you. Ben was in his full Roger Taylor gear, his wig and costume astonishing enough to make even the biggest of Queen fanatics do a double take.

“It’s been my favorite since I did an analysis in college.” you murmured, flipping the page over quickly, beginning to chew on what was left of the nail on your right thumb.

“What was your major?” Ben inquired, furrowing his brows in curiosity.

“Technically psychology, and I minored in creative writing. But my psychology degree doesn’t really get much use now.” Ben nodded thoughtfully at your response.

You glanced back down to the play, continuing to gnaw at the skin on your thumb.

“Stop that.”

You glanced up at Ben through your thick eyelashes, confusedly cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Stop what?”

“Biting your nails. I’ve noticed you do that a lot.” He spoke as he lazily leaned back on the green couch.

You quickly placed your hand at your side, sitting on your fingers as you meet the eyes of the crazy good-looking British man.

Your friendship with Ben was… unnecessarily complicated. He acted strange around you sometimes, and the awkwardness that resulted in some of your conversations was unnatural compared to the camaraderie you shared with the rest of the cast.

“Sorry if that came off as rude or something, I used to bite my nails too.” you smiled up at him, noticing the slight bouncing of his left leg as your eyes drifted back to the page of your book. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to comprehend a single thing.

You glanced back up at the jittery blonde man. “I feel you. It’s been a bad habit of mine since grade school.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. The quiet buzz of the heater unit in the small waiting room was the only disturbance in the increasingly awkward silence between you and Ben.

“Oh, before I forget,” he exclaimed as he rummaged through his pockets, “I forgot to give this to you yesterday before you left, but you dropped this napkin on set and the lyrics on it kind of looked important.” your heart soared at the sight of your familiar blue ink on the white piece of fabric.

“Oh my god. You found it!” you practically shot off the couch and snatched it from his hand. “Thank you so much, I thought someone had thrown this away. This is the chorus for my next song, I think.”

Without really thinking, you leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You know, you shouldn’t worry as much about how you’re perceived by me. Or anyone else, really. Just a word of advice.” you spoke as you admired the napkin in your hand.

You noticed the beaming smile resting on his face, accompanied by a slight flush of pink as you identified the smell of cigarettes and an oddly scented cologne that suited him strangely well.

“It was really no problem. I had a feeling it was important, especially with lyrics as amazing as those,” you blushed as you hastily pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, “and thank you for the advice. I’ll try to keep it in mind.”

Ben winked at you playfully, causing you to let out a small chuckle, but your heart was doing backflips in your chest. He just had this effect on you…

There was a small pause as you skimmed over the lyrics on the napkin before you placed it in the small bag you brought with you to set every day.

“Not that my opinion really has much merit, but I think you’re really talented,” Ben paused, moving a piece of his blonde wig out of his eyes, “not a lot of people can compose something like that on a napkin and have it be solid enough to make a complete record out of it."

You bit back a big smile as you met his stunningly wide eyes that could blow a breath of fresh air into you anytime you looked at them. His tiny grin was gentle, with sincerity practically bleeding through the edges of his lips.

"That truly means a lot to me, Ben, thank you. Means more than you could ever know, actually.” he lightly scratched the back of his neck, breaking your intense eye contact, “and, not that my opinion has much merit, but I think you’re an amazing drummer.”

He laughed, lightly rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger, reaching to adjust the wrist band that was tightly coiled around his left arm, “I appreciate it, but I’m no Roger Taylor.”

“Woah, hold up there. I never said you were that good.” Ben’s jaw fell slack as he playfully glared at you, his eyes seeming to be searching you for something.

You carefully moved to go sit back down, but before you could even take a step, the door swung open.

“Ben, Y/N, you’re needed on set now.”

You offered Ben a soft grin as he held the door open for you, walking into the hustle and bustle of the movie set. Today was going to be a long, long, day.

You had been working on the Bohemian Rhapsody movie for about two weeks at this point. Saying that out loud makes it seem like a lot less time than how it felt. Nevertheless, the glamour of being an actress has most definitely worn off.

The dazzling red carpets and interviews felt like they were eons away, seemingly working their way farther and farther into your future with each passing hour.

Don’t get it confused, you loved acting, you loved your job, but the long days and long nights were starting to mess with your system more than you’d like to admit.

Just last week, you were in the middle of shooting a scene with Rami when you felt lightheaded and fainted for a few seconds. Right there, in front of the entire cast and crew. Definitely not one of proudest moments.

The combination of lack of sleep, all the caffeine to attempt to make up for said lack of sleep, having to memorize your lines, rehearse for the final three shows of your tour, and deal with all the absolutely wonderful elements of being a woman was really starting to wear on your wellbeing. Mentally, and physically.

But, nevertheless, you were playing your dream role in your dream movie about Queen, whom you got to go to work with and talk to every day. There really wasn’t that much for you to be complaining about.

And, for the first time in a really, really long time, you felt completely and totally happy.

“Y/N, we’re going out to get some drinks. Wanna tag along?” Allen smirked at you, nudging your shoulder as he grabbed a bottle of water before turning to leave.

“Dumbass question, of course I wanna go.” You spoke, turning to grab your purse on the counter and beginning to follow Allen and the rest of the cast out the door.

You were about two feet away from the exit, able to feel the cold London air on your legs when someone called your name. You turned around and saw it was one of the PA’s.

“Y/N, you have a visitor. Says his name is Y/BF/N? Should I let him in?” she inquired from across the room.

You stopped dead in your tracks, all the color quickly leaving your face. He couldn’t really be here, could he?

“Yeah, let him in,” you said breathlessly, sympathetically looking up at your friends, “could you guys wait here for a few minutes while I deal with this?"

They all nodded and went to sit back down on the couches and chairs in the little side room. Ben gave you a reassuring smile from across the room, before reaching over and putting a rugby game on the TV. You turned towards the woman at the door.

You walked with the PA who informed you that he was in the room right across the hall. You took a deep breath and stood in front of the maroon colored door.

It wasn’t like him to come for surprise visits. And he knew you hated surprises, so there was definitely an ulterior motive here. Just the thought of that made butterflies erupt in the pits of your stomach as you gathered your courage. You finally knocked on the door twice before letting yourself in.

Seeing him awkwardly standing there was certainly… something. For lack of a better word, he looked like shit. Pure, unadulterated shit. And you weren’t surprised, because he had a bad habit of getting absolutely wasted most nights while he was on tour.

Whether it was backstage after his show or at some random club or bar near the venue he performed at, he was always under the influence of something. That’s why you never went with him on his tours, because he’d be too drunk or too high to have a conversation with you that didn’t end in a screaming fight. And something about his posture signified that this meeting was about to end in a similar way.

You now realized how long you had truly been avoiding this. The inevitability of the conversation you two were about to have felt to be swarming around your bodies. You were truly now able to realize how unhealthy this has been for you. How you kept everything that bothered you or made you even slightly upset inside rather than provoke the man you “loved” over something so small.

You two definitely didn’t have the healthiest of relationships, you’ll be the first to admit that. But the idea of having to eventually have to go to weddings alone, go home to an empty apartment and live in constant silence scared the everliving shit out of you. You hated silence, you hated being alone.

So you had just put up with it.

Sometimes you would think that he gave up on you. He would stop returning your calls and the number of goodnight text messages from him would dwindle, so you’d think maybe he was done with you. Maybe you wouldn’t have to put up with the heartbreak of the severing of your relationship. Maybe the connection would diminish over time until it eventually dissipated into thin air.

But now here he was, in all his drunken, grimy glory on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody in London, about 6000 miles away from what should’ve been his current tour stop. And you felt like you were going to throw up.

All the feelings for him you thought you had lost came rushing back with a force so strong it almost knocked you off your feet. You wanted so desperately to run into his arms and greet him with a kiss, but you couldn’t. You had to fight your muscle memory.

"Hi.” he murmured, his voice slightly hoarse as he shifted his gaze to your shoes. He couldn’t even make eye contact with you.

“Hey,” you whispered back, staying quiet for the fear that a normal sound would shatter the delicate chain that was tying your faltering relationship together.

He turned away from you, walking over to the tiny window in the eerily silent room, pulling out a cigarette and lighter from his black leather jacket. You sighed to yourself. You weren’t allowed to smoke in here but you would be damned if you were going to tell him that, and risk angering him.

You acted… different, around him. It was like he was a damp towel that was thrown on top of you whenever you two were together. You suddenly became a shell, a ghostly hollow of whom you were supposed to be. And you fucking hated that. And you hated him for that.

The silence in the room was so heavy on your shoulders you swore your feet would break through the wooden floor. It was uncomfortable, just like everything about him. He was an uncomfortable person.

“I don’t want to draw this out, because this won’t be pleasant for me or for you.” He broke the silence, speaking louder than before. And just like you feared, it shattered whatever was left.

“My management agency got a courtesy letter two nights ago from TMZ about a story that was breaking tomorrow about me. And I wanted you to hear this from me, not some stupid fucking twitter news highlight.”

The sharp, stunningly cold tone in his voice was so foreign to you. The last time you two were together for longer than three days, his voice had been warm, welcoming, and like a home. He was your home. And now you felt like you were listening to a stranger speak.

You almost stopped him. You almost barged out of the room and left whatever it was that he was going to say unsaid. He was hesitating, and you could feel how hard he was trying to force the words out of his throat. And that scared you more than anything. He was never the type to shy away from the truth, or what needed to be said.

That used to be something you admired, something about him you were in love with. He was crazy and wild, completely explicit and transparent. The complete opposite of you.

And maybe when you went on your first date with him you thought being around someone like him would change someone like you. Maybe you thought he would be able to coax you out of your shell.

He suddenly looked away from the window, meeting your eyes. Your stomach dropped at his pin-head sized pupils, the harsh color of his blue irises reaching out and slapping you across your face.

He let out a shaky breath, retrieving a piece of yellow folded paper from his jacket pocket. “You know, I’ve never been good with words, so to be completely honest with you,” he paused, taking a drag from the cigarette perched between his slender fingers, “I have no fucking idea how to say this right now.”

You wanted to comment, to say something, but it was like you suddenly forgot how to speak. You were frozen. He had his imaginary grip around your throat and you couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. These few seconds felt like they were dragging on for an eternity.

“You cheated on me, didn’t you?” you whispered, feeling the familiarity of strain in your throat.

You weren’t religious, you had never been to a church in your life. But at this moment you would’ve dropped to your knees and prayed to any God that you were wrong. That he hadn’t been unfaithful to you.

He handed you the piece of paper he had been holding for a few minutes, “I wrote down as many as I could remember. But some of the times I-” he began before you let out a laugh.

“Because you were too drunk?” you continued. He nodded, letting his head fall to stare at his shoes.

You had run through this scenario in your head before, on a particularly late night when you couldn’t fall asleep. You never thought you’d be actually living it, yet here you are.

To be honest, you expected to be a tearful mess. But all you felt was pure anger coursing through your veins as you unfolded the paper and glanced at the words.

Jessica from Calgary, July. Allison and Tiffany from Montreal, June. Megan from Iowa, mid-August. And there were way more on the list that you couldn’t bring yourself to read. You let out a chuckle. You should’ve known.

“Did you think about me, when you were with them? Did you ever give me a second thought?” you inquired. He looked back up at you like a deer in headlights.

“Did you ever wake up and see my voicemails, my text messages, and regret it?” He was still speechless, looking at you like you were speaking in some long lost foreign language.

You let out a deep breath of disbelief that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, collapsing down on the upholstered couch, “when did you decide you didn’t love me anymore?"

"Y/N, I never stopped-”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t sit here and try to make everything better with your cheesy bullshit of how you never stopped loving me, how you still love me even after all we’ve been through. I really don’t want to hear it."

There was an uncomfortable pause as you felt scalding hot tears well up in your eyes. You tried blinking them away but this just caused them to spill down your cheeks. "I’ve been on two world tours across five continents and I never once thought about betraying you. Betraying us. Betraying what we had. It wasn’t even a question.”

You looked back up at him, your tears dripping off your chin and settling into the hollows of your collar bone. And you suddenly lost the loose leash you had on the emotions running rampant in your gut.

"I would’ve done literally anything for you. If you asked me to not take the part in this movie, my absolute dream job, I would’ve declined and apologized for being an inconvenience to you.”

“If you asked me to throw myself off a cliff, I would’ve done it in a fucking heartbeat. And you have the nerve to stand here and act like you cheating on me however many times you did is no big deal? Like you didn’t just betray the only person you had left?”

You were yelling now, and to be frank, you didn’t care. You didn’t have the empathy nor mental capacity left to care. You had never experienced a heartbreak so severe it made you nauseous.

You were confused and so dizzy. You felt like you were about to pass out or throw up the sandwich you had for lunch, but you couldn’t tell which one. You’re weren’t sure if you were dreaming but also not sure if you were even alive. Maybe this was Hell. Maybe you passed away in your sleep last night and you were living in your own, personal Hell.

Because you could deny it all you wanted, but you were still in love with this man. Hell, you’d still die for him. That wouldn’t change. He had you wrapped around his pinky finger and both of you knew it. And that’s why it hurt so bad. Because everything hurts more when it comes from someone you love.

"I came out here as a fucking courtesy, so you didn’t have to find out about this on the internet. I didn’t have to fly out here, didn’t even have to tell you, but I did. There’s no need to act like a god damn child!” he screamed, angrily opening the window to his right.

He threw his cigarette butt out the slim opening and slammed it shut, causing you to jump slightly. It sent shivers up and down both of your arms.

“A courtesy? Oh wow! All for little old me? Well, aren’t you just a fucking saint! You deserve to be knighted by the fucking Queen of England for that, really.”

You took a deep breath, grabbing your hair by the roots before throwing your head back with frustration, “All I ever fucking did was care for you, look after you, and put up with your bullshit excuses and mistreatment and I’m done. I am so, so fucking done."

You stood up abruptly to get a little closer to his towering height. "Looking at this entire shit show in retrospect, I can’t believe I ever wasted even a moment of my time on you. I’m over it. I’m over you. I’m over us.”

After speaking those words into the quiet atmosphere of the room you were in, you felt your anger evaporate into thin air. “You know, you’re a real piece of shit? I pray to God that the next girl has some standards and goes running for the hills when she gets to know the real you. Because I sure as hell didn’t.”

Suddenly, your tears were back, welling up in your eyes as you looked him over once again, his face a mixture of shock, sadness, and disbelief.

He chuckled, returning to his spot near the window, mumbling something under his breath. “So, we’re done? That’s it? Just like that, two years out the window?” he huffed out in disbelief.

“Yeah, just like that. Because you’re not supposed to cheat on your significant other. This isn’t an open relationship. This isn’t how this works, genius.”

He rolls his eyes, walking over to the window yet again as he mumbles something under his breath. "Speak up.” you snarled. He studied you for a moment, an amused expression on his stupidly perfect face.

“I said, you wonder why I would cheat on you, then you go and act like this.”

You were speechless. Your head was pounding so ferociously hard, you didn’t want to believe he had actually just said that to you. You wished you could wake up in a cold sweat in your bed back home in LA and you could turn over and go back to sleep. You just wanted this to be over with.

“Get out,” you mumbled. Your voice cracked, and noticeably so, and it allowed your sadness to leak out of your words into this already small room that felt like it was getting smaller.

“What did you just say to me?"You could hear the aggression practically gushing out of his mouth, and you didn’t want to stick around to find out what happens next.

"I said,” you spoke, taking a pause to soak the absolute hatred form the air into your skin, “get. out.”

“So you’re really going to tell me to leave? After a 12-hour flight?” he let out an exasperated sigh, “God, you’re such a fucking bitch.”

You’re not quite sure what, but something snapped deep inside you, like a gate opened and all the immature anger you had been trying to contain escaped like air escaping a popped balloon.

“Get the fuck out and leave me and my friends alone! I hate you. I fucking hate you!” your voice was hoarse, and every word leaving your throat was like a punch to your stomach. “I never want to see you again. Just leave, please. Leave me alone.” you cried out, clutching your arms as close to your sides as humanly possible.

He stomped past you and slammed the door behind him, and you swore the ripped it off it’s hinges. And it was definitely enough to make you shatter into a thousand little pieces.

He was finally gone.

You managed to make your way to the wall, resting your shoulder againsst it handle before turning around and slowly sinking down to the ground. You covered your mouth with your hands, letting the tears freely slip down your fiery red cheeks.

You don’t know exactly how long you sat there, but it was definitely a long time. By the time you recovered, the sky outside had darkened and the moon was becoming ever more present in the evening sky.

You made your way over to grab your phone from its spot on the table. You pulled up the camera app and looked at yourself. Your eyes were puffy and swollen, and your nose was raw from wiping it so many times. Frankly, you were a mess. You attempted to calm yourself down, trying to take deep breaths.

After finally returning back to Earth, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the room and across the hallway where your group of friends was still waiting. You briskly walked across the room, pretending that nothing had happened.

Your cheeks and eyes were red, but you didn’t wanna give away the fact that you had been crying, so you turned to the table of snacks and started tidying it up, moving your hair in your face.

"So sorry that took so long guys. We can head out now if you’d like.” There was no response.

“If you guys are okay with it, do you think we could stop at McDonald’s on the way there? I could really use a milkshake.” Silence. You ignored the quiet in a room that would normally be filled to the absolute brim with sound.

“Y/N…” you heard the uncertainty in Gwilym’s voice as your name rolled off his tongue.

“Do British McDonald’s even have milkshakes?” you inquired, taking a shaky breath, “I’ve just realized I’ve never been to a McDonald’s here. Personally I’d prefer chocolate but vanilla would do the job.” Your voice seemed to shrink until you were speaking at the volume of a whisper.

You just kept your hands moving, trying to distract yourself from the tears welling up in your eyes yet again. There was still silence other than you organizing the snacks and rummaging through your purse.

Suddenly, you felt a large, warm hand on your wrist. You slightly turned your head to the side to see Ben, his brows furrowed together and a look of genuine distress powdered across his normally light and carefree eyes. And that’s what caused you to hit your breaking point.

You slammed your face into his chest, letting your fatally weak sobs echo in the silent room. His arms were around you in a second, supporting most of your weight due to your knees suddenly giving out.

Your body was shaking with your echoing cries, your sobs so intense they were comparable to dry heaves.

Rami’s voice was heard behind you, quiet and still. “I don’t think we’re going out tonight.” This caused you to rip yourself out of Ben’s iron-tight grasp.

“Please don’t let me and my personal problems put a damper on your fun night out. Go and enjoy yourself,” you wiped a few tears from your eyes, “I’ll be fine, I promise.” you heard Joe let out an exasperated sigh from the couch, drawing your attention to him.

“No, you’re not fine. And you probably won’t be for the immediate future. And that’s completely okay because you have us,” he took a deep breath, looking you up and down slowly. You could see a flash of pain in his deep brown eyes.

“I’m really very sorry that we eavesdropped on you, but we can’t change the fact that we heard almost everything that happened in there and I know that you’re not okay right now,” he spoke quietly, the usual tinge of humor in his voice gone without a trace, “and I may not have known you for a year or even a month yet, but I do know that no one likes to be alone when they’re hurt. So we’re staying.”

Being truthful, you could’ve collapsed right then and there at the sound of someone having your back as unquestionably as Joe did. It was such a relief, tears began leaking out of your eyes again. Ben pulled you into another one of his comfortingly tight hugs and led you over to the couch, where he sat you down between himself and Joe.

Looking up to momentarily meet Ben’s eyes, he gave you a sad grin. Not having the energy left in your bones to return it, you slouched down and plopped your head on his muscular shoulder.

You felt his body stiffen slightly beneath you, but at this point, you didn’t care. You just wanted to go to sleep for a really, really long time. Part of you didn’t want to have to deal with this absolute disaster.

You were tired. And tired of being tired. And tired of being used and thrown around and treated like you were nothing but a toy. You wanted to stand up and shout how you weren’t something to butter up and taste when others got bored, you wanted to scream and cry and break things and punch holes in the wall. But your body was so fragile at the moment, everyone around you thought the smallest touch might cause you to break.

Yet somehow, even after the most violent break up of your life, you had never felt so accepted and genuinely cared for in your entire life. Ben’s arm was now wrapped around your fatigued body, your head still on his shoulder, the TV in the dressing room was on, and you were surrounded by your new family. Strangely, you had never felt more wanted in all of your years of existence.

This feeling of comfort was just enough to lull you to sleep in the middle of the evening, sitting on an uncomfortable couch, slouched over and your neck already beginning to stiffen.

But somehow, through all of this, you managed to feel one overwhelming thing for the first time in your life; inner peace.

taglist: @pastel-world14 @benhardyseyesjj

#ben hardy #ben hardy headcanon #ben hardy fic #ben hardy x reader #ben #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #lucy boynton #rami malek #gwilym lee #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #borhap boys #borhap cast #queen #joe mazzello #allen leech #bohemian rapsody movie

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anthropologicalhands · 5 years

Text

ceg fic: roses (a reprise)

title: roses (a reprise) summary: post 4x11. Rebecca applies her penchant for color coding when she reciprocates a certain gesture. notes: this is an image I’ve had for a long time, so I’m glad to find a situation were I can use it. Also, wrote this in one night and am up way too late right now. Ao3 link.

Rebecca’s good intentions were called into question the moment she raised her hand before apartment number thirty-seven, poised to knock, only for the door to be pulled open and Nathaniel almost walked right into her fist.

“Whoa! Rebecca?”

In an effort to avoid accidentally punching him in the throat, Rebecca stumbled backwards, her surprise nearly dropping her right on her ass. Luckily, gravity was on her side for once, and she was able to recover, albeit awkwardly.

“Hey, Nathaniel!” she wheezed, still catching her breath, glancing down to inspect the flowers in her arms for crushed petals or other damage.

“Hey.” Nathaniel was still hanging halfway out of his doorway, one long arm flung back to catch himself in the doorframe to avoid collision. He blinked down at her as he righted himself, apparently utterly perplexed by her presence in his hallway.

There was something so strange about seeing him standing directly in the frame, filling the space completely, like his body was a physical manifestation of the boundaries he had been drawing steadily between them these last several weeks.

And that was good news, really. He said that he was going to let her go, and his actions since then were consistently reflecting that intent.

That was good. That was healthy.

So, naturally, it was up to her to toe the line by appearing on his doorstep unannounced, even if it was in the name of friendship.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Here to see you, obviously. Do you need to be somewhere?” She looked him over; his attire was perfectly casual—nothing like what he would wear for an appointment, or possibly a date—not that he would go for a date, what with the events of the day—but she hated how even when she was happy with someone else, even when she didn’t want him the way she had before, there was still a little knot of lead that formed, unwanted, in the pit of her stomach at the thought of him with someone else; its continued presence felt deeply unfair, especially considering her good intentions.

“Not anywhere urgent. Darryl invited me out for drinks tonight after, well, everything.” He hesitated, glancing sidelong at her. “Did you, uh…”

“Yeah,” she admitted, with a sheepish shrug. “Paula gave me the details, but I put most of it together when you walked out of the building in the middle of the day and your dad being, um, passive-aggressive by skipping the ‘passive’ part entirely.”

Nathaniel’s eyes shuttered closed, and he let loose an embarrassed huff. “Heard all of that, huh?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

He sighed, giving a small, tight smile. “I didn’t expect him to react like that in public. All of those lectures about control just out the window, and he throws a tantrum for not getting his way. Good to know I came by it honestly.”

“Something like that,” agreed Rebecca uncomfortably, wincing at the bitterness in his tone. She shifted, the brown paper wrapping of the bouquet crinkling in her arms. “Paula’s kept me posted. But seriously, how are you doing?”

He had looked peaky back in the lobby, the glimpse she’d managed to catch from her hiding place, tucked just out of view behind the counter, eavesdropping on Plimpton Sr’s nearly incoherent outrage and Nathaniel’s final dismissal. But now when he raised his eyes to meet hers, his gaze was calm and steady.

“I’m okay,” he said, sounding almost surprised, to find that this was the case. He gave a small, certain nod. “Or I will be, in time. I don’t have anything more than that.”

He didn’t elaborate and he didn’t need to; she knew that particular feeling intimately enough.

“That’s good,” she said instead. “What are you going to do next?”

“I have some other prospects lined up, but I don’t know. Nothing concrete.” He pauses. “Maybe it’s better that way, at least for right now.”

“Sometimes you need to exist in the inbetween,” agreed Rebecca, her mouth quirking up in memory of how strange and aimless that state could be, but also how light. “I’m happy for you.”

He smiled at her, though it was more polite than warm. Then his gaze drifted down, to the bundle against her chest. At his unspoken question, she held them out with both hands.

At his surprised look she continued, a little hastily, “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. This is a gesture like the gesture you made after I got home from the hospital. Only I did some research and looked up the different kinds of rose symbolism –you know my feelings about color coding—and while yellow roses had alternate meanings in the past, including some with surprisingly negative connotations, I want you to know that, these days, a present of yellow roses is widely recognized as a symbol of friendship. Platonic friendship. These are platonic roses.”

“I’m familiar with the terminology,” said Nathaniel dryly, accepting the bouquet, grasping the bouquet closer to the blooms, so that their fingers wouldn’t brush. “They look good. Thank you.”

“Yeah. I mean, granted, the store did actually have an arrangement that symbolized ‘Congratulations for kicking your dad out of your life’, too, but the price point was obscene, especially taking my meager pretzel salary into account, so you can send that one to yourself.”

That startled a laugh out of him, warm and unexpected and washing over her like rainwater. She continued, “But seriously…Nathaniel, I want you to know that I still consider us friends. I still want us to be friends. Real friends, not just exes, not just awkward friends-of-friends who make small talk at parties. We need boundaries and realistic expectations. I understand that and I appreciate what you’ve been doing on your end. But just…don’t be a stranger. I think we still have a lot to give each other.”

Nathaniel didn’t say anything, running his fingers over the warm, buttery-soft petals.

“I agree,” he admitted, breaking the stretch of silence just as it was starting to become unbearable. “I want that for us, too.”

The tightness in her chest loosened, almost making her sag in relief.

“Good. Letting go shouldn’t mean that we should never speak again. I mean, who else can share their daddy issues without it getting weird?”

That provoked another laugh from Nathaniel, and he shot her a look of amused disgust.

“…I guess. But please don’t word it like that again. Seriously.”

She shrugged, grinning and unrepentant. They looked at each other for a moment, the ease of it strangely, beautifully calm.

“These need water,” he said, clearing his throat and averting his eyes, torn between the common courtesy of inviting her in and the unquestionable fact of their sordid history. Frankly, she agreed. Some boundaries should be left intact until they were more assured of where they stood.

“Go ahead—I need to meet with Paula to help her study for the bar,” she said, neatly sidestepping that particular minefield in its entirety. “But I’m here for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And Rebecca?”

“Hm?”

When she turned around, he looked at her as if he was studying her, his gaze frank, finally coming to some long-recognized decision.

“Thank you again. Not just for the roses—for everything.”

This time, his smile was a little more familiar – something a little more tender, closer to the smile she always thought of as hers—the one she’d seen standing on her porch or across her desk. It stung to know that she wouldn’t see that smile again, even if things went well between them, but that didn’t mean that the feelings that replaced it couldn’t still be something good.

This time, when Rebecca walked away, she made sure not to look back until after she heard the snick of the door closing.

#crazy ex girlfriend #rebecca bunch #nathaniel plimpton #rebecca x nathaniel #sort of - she's with greg and this is meant first and foremost to be a friendship fic #i am so tired good night #ellie writes fic

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yyrz · 5 years

Text

breath, faith, taste

note: IT’S VALENTINES and you know what that means!!!

also, an entry to @bnha-angst-week day 7: roses // time

the title lyric is from face my fears by utada hikaru because im kh trash. and also because i wrote this with no title in mind and that just started playing and there, here we are

disclaimer: blood mention, vomiting mention, death mention

(all my, all my life)

ao3 link! | fic masterlist!

The petals littering her floor cover the blood she’d spit out hours ago.

White dahlias. Those are white dahlias, from the google search she did hours ago. Kyouka doesn't know what they mean. What they are, really. She doesn't want to continue reading the page she skimmed quickly, doesn't want to know why she's coughing them up whenever her thoughts stray towards Momo—

Momo, who's in the process of meeting her partner-to-be, trapped in a marriage meeting with her parents. Momo, whose excitement felt palpable from the moment it was announced that she'd finally be wed on the eve of next year’s winter solstice. Momo, whose tears ran tracks on her cheeks, all of which Kyouka kissed away, wishing her a bit of simple good luck before letting her go.

Happiness, Kyouka told herself, watching as the Yaoyorozu family car drove away, taking the person responsible for the festering feelings in her chest. Momo was crying tears of happiness.

Don't be selfish Kyouka. She’s not crying because of her freedom and marriage to a stranger feel like a ticking time bomb. Not because your hands cupping her cheeks feel like a goodbye.

Not because you’ll stop being her friend after this whole ordeal is settled with signatures on a contract, irreversible in the eyes of the law. You’ll never stop being her friend.

Not because— not because it feels like you’re giving her away— like you’re not fighting— because you don’t want to just be her friend—— don’t be silly.

ii.

The eve of the New Year looms closer and closer, each day making Kyouka fold into herself with anxiety that, in other circumstances, wouldn’t be present in her overall demeanor. But then, those other circumstances aren’t always so filled with thoughts about Momo. And ever since her winter break, it’s been nothing but Momo in her head.

All she can do is wait for the news. Momo hasn’t called or texted her at all. The break is almost at its end — by next week, they’ll all be back in class.

Maybe Kyouka can wait until then. Maybe Momo’s busy.

An itch makes its way up her throat at the thought of Momo being busy with her... with her fiance. She suppresses it, desperate to keep the flowers from spilling from her lips. A fist is shoved into her mouth, and she forces herself not to let out the dinner she’d eaten earlier, as well as the flowers churning deep in her lungs. Knuckles white, grimace clear on her face, Kyouka finds herself losing as she succumbs to the feeling of dread forcing itself up her throat.

Her dinner comes first, and then the flowers, caked with blood, splattering against the hardwood floor. She’ll have a hard time scrubbing it away, she notes, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Not that she can leave it alone unless she wanted to explain to her parents just why she’d been throwing up flowers.

With that thought in mind, Kyouka sets off to clean up her mess.

As she picks up the last clumps of bloodied dahlias, her phone rings. The sound of Satie’s Gymnopedie No. 1 makes her drop every she’s holding, fingers fumbling to answer the call. No matter if her phone's smeared with blood now — it’s Momo who's calling her, so of course she'd answer with the promptness of an ignored soul.

“Jirou-san!” At once, everything in Kyouka’s mind clears as Momo’s voice echoes from her phone speakers, almost bouncing with glee.

They talk for hours. Kyouka’s forced to keep her coughing to a bare minimum as Momo gushed on and on about her break, asking Kyouka for details of her own. Stories fill the gap between them, and Kyouka's heart soars when she hears Momo laugh. The growing flowers seem to shrink every time she listens to Momo.

That’s good.

The ski trip she wanted to invite Momo to rears itself to the forefront of her mind. But Kyouka refrains from saying anything about it because she knows Momo will feel bad for not being able to come. Not that Kyouka had the guts to invite her, even when the opportunity presented itself, but that wasn’t the point.

Eventually, their conversation comes to a close. Momo bids her farewell (with something about her tone gives Kyouka pause) and the call ends with Kyouka's goodbye.

Her phone chimes a beat later.

momo: I missed you Kyouka! I’ll see you next week!

momo: :*

Her heart lurches in its place behind the thick foliage growing beneath her ribs. She stares at that small emoji, a kissing face, and wonders if Momo means it or if she thinks it only a gesture of friendship.

kyouka: no prob mo. missed u 2! see u next week.

iii.

Every day, her chest aches. Every day, the pain multiplies. Every day spent with Momo is a day spent agonizing about her future. No one knows about the flowers.

Or, no one would have known, had she not run into Kaminari during an episode.

A trembling hand reaches for the blonde, as he stares in shock (and if it weren’t so serious, she’d hear him laugh at the pun). She twists in her seat, fisted hand clutching her chest as though that would alleviate the pain of flowers growing in her lungs. Dahlias don’t grow with thorns, but Kyouka feels as though a thousand have been piercing her since this all started.

She swallows a cry (and the blood, the bile, the petals) back. A shudder runs through her shoulders. Kaminari can do nothing but watch, horrified as a dribble of blood makes it past her fingers, which she wipes away.

There are questions on the tip of this tongue, and the fact that he’s yet to crack a joke at her expense makes her believe that he’s taking this as seriously as she has. It’s odd for Kaminari to do so, but the appreciation she conveys for his somber manner is still well

No one’s there to notice anything. She’s lucky. She’s lucky Momo’s not here to see her. She’s lucky Momo’s out with her fiance.

Ha.

iv.

Momo doesn’t know anything apart from the fluttering in her stomach; she doesn’t care about anything apart from a nagging insistence residing in her belly, urging her to spend time with Jirou. She has always known what she wanted, even at a young age. But right now, she doesn’t why her desires tell her to always be within Jirou’s range.

There’s something there. A spark? She can’t pinpoint it and for the love of God, how she wants to name the restless feeling she gets whenever she isn’t near Jirou.

She’s meeting with her fiance today and a feeling in her swells to an uproar. I don’t want to! I want to stay here! But her mother had their lunch date arranged, had planned everything and it would break her heart if Momo says that she’d rather stay with her classmates, spend the night idly chatting with them in the comfort of their common room. She already can imagine herself, sprawled on the sofa, teased for keeping her feet firmly on the floor while everyone has theirs up on the coffee table, while Iida shouts something about respecting the one who made it.

Which was her, for a dare.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. Fooling around with her classmates, when she hadn’t the slightest clue to her future. When her mother had yet to tell her about the engagement; when she had yet to meet the person she’d spend her eternity with.

They were nice. Friendly. Almost too much, like it was a farce for them, wrapped in printed paper and topped with a colorful bow. Maybe that’s what they think of Momo — a gift by her parents, or an offering to appease them.

Stop that line of thinking Momo! She feels silly for allowing such thoughts in her head when they’ve been nothing but understanding with their predicament. An arranged marriage was such an old custom, and yet here she is, here they are, in the middle of it. Ready to go through with it.

Are they really ready though?

Momo’s thoughts drift back to Jirou. She was such a supportive friend, crying with Momo when she expressed frustration for the plans her mother spewed. She wanted nothing more than to turn her back on that plan, but mother’s disappointment loomed above her head, a stormy look overshadowing the words that would’ve brought her respite. Jirou tries to lift her spirits up, easing her into the thought of a future carved into stone by her parents.

But the longer she waits, the lower the spirits drop, the deeper the pit she feels herself falling into. Momo makes her circumstance a show of happiness, even with the judgment she can feel pouring out of Todoroki and Iida’s intense gaze.

Are you happy? Is what they always ask, the pair laced with concern and anger, both at her inability to say no and her cowardice.

And she knows. Momo knows how deep her weakness falls. But she pushes aside everything that her mother has expressly forbidden her to do, ignores the own throbbing of her chest whenever she refers to Jirou has her friend.

Because deep down she knows — down to the cells making up her body, the rushing blood against her veins. She knows that friend can’t explain that throbbing; friend can’t explain the misery. The word friend can never explain the enormity of her feelings, yearning yet confined within the small space she could never let go.

When she exits the common room, eyeing the scene of a happy Jirou nudging Kaminari, laughing at the stupidly content grin on his face, something prods against her chest. A heavy feeling, foreboding in all its glory.

The roses littering her floor cover the stench of her disappointments and regrets.

Dahlias and roses surround her, around her body, like a protective shell. Her body is floating, carried by the current.

Jumping off the cliff was her decision. Sudden but not unwanted.

Momo follows soon after. The shouting behind her ignored as she plunges headfirst into the ocean, splitting it for a moment before she’s submerged. Her eyes sting, but she’s undeterred in her quest to locate Kyouka.

The sea seems to glow when she opens her eyes, when she feels hands cupping her cheeks, when she finally stares at Momo’s paling features, watching her cry at nothing, tears mixing with seawater. Kyouka can’t seem to speak anymore, not when water is already entering her mouth, her nose, burning her lungs into oblivion.

She breathes salt and sea, shame and desire, pulling her deeper into the abyss that was the ocean. She smiles, letting her lips touch her cheeks, letting her face bloom with heat even in the freezing depths. She finds that her hands have taken Momo’s own, holding as tightly as she could (as she can, in her weakening state).

Momo replies with the same gusto of the dying, closing her eyes, letting everything else take her. Letting go of her unhappiness, bleeding agony until only the truth remained.

Too late to say, but at the same time, it was just the right time to realize.

vi.

They’re found together, blue and no more, holding each other close.

#momojirou #jirou kyouka #yaoyorozu momo #bnha-angst-week #boku no hero academia #this is so bad bUT I LOVE hanahakis o k #yyrz.fic

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sebeth · 5 years

Text

Young Justice: “Infiltrator”

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

Episode 6: “Infiltrator”

August 7, Infinity Island - Roy sneaks into a fortress to rescue a scientist.

The opening scene is a nice testament to Roy’s skill.

Back at the fortress, Sensei/Silver Monkey is informed “She finished. We are good to go.”

Can someone please call this man by name? He’s appeared in both the Young Justice cartoon and comic books and he is never identified. I know he’s either Sensei or Silver Monkey but can we please get a definite answer.

I paused for some quick visual research. I’m leaning towards Sensei.

Let’s detour for a quick recap of the tangled family history of the House of Al Ghul.

Ra’s al Ghul and Talia debuted in the1970s. Ra’s is “the Demon’s Head” and the founder/leader of the League of Assassins/Shadows. Ra’s was born over 700 years ago and uses the Lazarus Pits to extend his lifestyle. Talia is torn between her duty to her father and her love of Batman.

Simple so far but that never lasts in comics.

Sensei was introduced later. Despite earlier claims of Ra’s discovering the Lazarus Pits and founding the League of Assassins it is revealed that Sensei was the original leader of the League. Sensei is also the father of Ra’s al Ghul and has been driven insane by centuries-long use of the Lazarus Pits.

Making Ra’s a lying liar who lies about his history. But that wouldn’t surprise anyone so it’s easy to handwave away the discrepancy.

Ra’s first wife (pre-transformation into the Demon’s Head) was named Sora. No children resulted from this union. Sora’s death would start Ra’s on his world domination quest.

Ra’s has one son. Dusan, aka the White Ghost, was an albino so Ra’s down-graded his son to “servant” level. We’re never told Dusan’s age or mother. Dusan would later sacrifice himself to extend Ra’s life. Read the “Resurrection of Ra’s Al Ghul” for Dusan’s story.

Ra’s eldest daughter is Nyssa. She was born in the 18th century. Nyssa has a livid hatred for Ra’s after he left her family to die in concentration camps in World War II. Read “Batman: Death And The Maidens” for Nyssa’s story and quest for vengeance. Nyssa has appeared in the “Arrow” show but I am way behind on the series so I can’t give you the details.

The youngest member of the Al Ghul clan is Damian/Ibn. Damian’s been all over the place in the comic books and animation so I’m not going into his backstory. I will recommend Kingdom Come and the Kingdom for anyone curious about Ibn. He doesn’t play a big part but Alex Ross does an excellent job portraying the first meeting between an adult Ibn and Bruce. You can feel Ibn’s desire to meet and curiousity about his father just from the art.

If you want to read more of Damian or the details of his conception, the following series are a good start: “Batman: Son of the Demon”, “Batman and Son”, “The Resurrection of Ra’s Al Ghul”, Batman and Robin (both volumes), Kingdom Come, the Kingdom, and Super Sons.

There is also the Heretic – a rapidly-aged clone of Damian. He killed Damian only to be executed by Talia. Read “Batman Incorporated” for the Damian-Heretic story.

Back to the cartoon…

August 8: The Young Justice gang – minus Wally – are having some fun in the sun at Mount Justice. Wally, a Mid-Western boy, has started school earlier than the others.

Dick declares “First a moment of silence for our absent comrade.”

We switch to Wally who is suffering through “the first day of sophomore year”.

The opening montage nicely demonstrates the frustration a speedster would endure at a normal human-pace day.

An X-Factor issue from the 1990’s had Quicksilver demonstrate the same frustration. It was an excellent insight into Pietro’s head.

DC and Marvel speedsters have the same dilemma but Marvel’s turn out snarky and sarcastic and DC’s become sweet and lovable.

The YJ gang swim, cook out, and play volleyball while Wally suffers various indignities and frustrations.

Finally, the school day is over! Wally yells “Woo-hoo!” and tears out of the building. Whether it’s work or school, we’ve all been there.

Wally, in beach attire, zooms over to Mount Justice. Unfortunately, the beach party is over and everyone’s in costume.

“The Wallman is here.”

Wally meets the love of his life but it’s not love at first sight.

“The Wallman, huh? Love the uniform. What exactly are your powers? – Artemis, so sassy.

Green Arrow introduces Artemis as his new protégé.

Wally demands “What happened to your old one?”

Speedy chooses that moment to enter Young Justice.

“For starters, he doesn’t go by Speedy anymore. Call me Red Arrow.”

Roy and Oliver waste no time going at each other. In Oliver’s defense, Roy started it. Artemis enters the argument to defend her skills.

Wally: “Who are you?”

Oliver and Artemis both repeat the “niece” line.

Dick interjects “Another niece?”

That comment could go two ways. The first way is Dick realizes the story is a sham and is causing trouble. Even though Batman is five feet away from Dick!

The second interpretation…well, Oliver has as many kids as Bruce. The majority of Bruce’s children resulting from adoption. The majority of Ollie’s did not. Especially if you believe Ollie to be the father of Arrowette. Does Dick feel that this is another illegitimate child of Oliver – one that he’s passing off as a niece?

Kaldur reassures Roy: “But she is not your replacement. We have always wanted you on the team and we have no quota on archers.”

Wally: “And if we did, you know who we’d pick.”

Artemis doesn’t back down: “Whatever, Baywatch. I’m here to stay.”

Artemis puts on a tough façade but you know she had to be insecure in this moment. She’s very concerned about her teammates discovering her parentage and then the original Green Arrow protégé waltzes into the room? The much more experienced and accomplished one? The protégé that Dick, Wally, and Kaldur consider a good friend? Talk about a nightmare!

Roy tells the team about Dr. Serling Roquette, a nano-robotics expert and claytronics expert aka the scientist Roy rescued earlier in the episode.

Serling was abducted from Star City two weeks ago by the League of Shadows.

Dick’s excited: “You want us to rescue her from the League of Shadows?”

I can see Batman shaking his head from across the room: “No, Robin, you don’t get to storm the League of Shadow’s headquarters. Young Justice is about “training wheels” missions not “put your big boy pants on” missions.

Roy admits he already rescued Serling. The problem is Serling had finished her work on “the Fog” – a weapon “comprised of millions of microscopic robots, nanotech infiltrators, capable of disintergrating anything in their path. Concrete, steel, flesh, bone. But its true purpose isn’t mere destruction. It’s theft. The infiltrators eat and store raw data from any computer system and deliver the stolen intel to the Shadows. Providing them access to strategic defense, cutting edge science and tech.”

Artemis pipes in with “It sounds like the Shadows”.

Wally counters “Like you know anything about the Shadows.”

Artemis smirks at Wally. You’d be surprised, Wally, at the depth of knowledge Artemis has on criminal organizations.

Wally doesn’t like the smirk: “Who are you?!”

Roy informs the group that Serling is working on creating a virus that renders the Fog inert.

Dick quickly realizes that would put Serling’s life in danger.

Oliver offers to help Roy keep Serling safe. Roy bitterly rejects the offer. Batman lays a hand on Oliver’s shoulder to stop the impending argument.

The cartoon’s creators inverted the typical Ollie-Roy positions. In the comics, it’s Ollie who’s causing/escalating the divide. In the cartoon, Ollie is much more level-headed and attempting to mend difference. Roy rejects and peace offering and escalates their confrontations.

Roy proclaims his job is done and leaves the team. Wally glares at Artemis.

Miss Martian telepathically links us the team and Serling at Happy Harbor High School.

Wally and Artemis continue to bicker. Wally informs Artemis that he “does not need attitude from the newbie who drove Red Arrow off the team”.

Dick tells Wally to cut Artemis some slack as she is the one who saved him in the battle against Amazo.

Serling, at Aqualad’s urging, goes online to track the Fog’s location. Tracking goes both ways and the League of Shadows quickly discovers Serling’s location. Sensei orders the closest operative to assassinate Serling.

Superboy, Miss Martian, and Artemis are patrolling the outside of the school. Artemis is very appreciative of Superboy’s physique: “Hmm, that boy.”

Megan does not want anyone intruding on her obsessive crush: “He can hear you. We all can hear you.”

Artemis replies “Oh, I know.”

I love the Artemis/Wally pairing but I’m Team Artemis in this encounter. Artemis is simply appreciating Superboy’s appearance in a teenager-like way. Megan’s pursuit of Conner is an attempt to mold and then slot him into this fantasy life she has created for herself. Megan may love Conner but it’s not a healthy relationship.

Serling has located the Fog. Kaldur orders Superboy and Robin to pursue in the bio-ship.

This is the second episode in a row where Robin and Superboy have been partnered up. It’s almost an homage to the close friendship in the comic books. Except the Robin is Tim Drake.

Cheshire makes her first appearance, skulking in the bushes.

Megan confronts Artemis: “You embarrassed Superboy.”

Artemis: “Didn’t hear him say that.”

Honestly, Megan you might as well declare “Get away from my man!”

Cheshire infiltrates the school and quickly takes out Kid Flash.

Cheshire has a harder time with Kaldur – Atlantean skin is quite dense and he’s mostly immune to the jellyfish toxin she has on her shuriken.

Cheshire retreats when she has to face the entire team.

Wally blames Artemis for Cheshire gaining entrance into the school. Megan defends Artemis.

Robin and Superboy arrive in Philadelphia. STAR Labs has been completely destroyed.

Kaldur and Megan patrol the outside of the school while Wally and Artemis guard the doctor.

Wally and Artemis glare at each other. Kaldur orders the duo: “Stop it. Both of you. I can hear you glaring.”

Cheshire has called in reinforcements – Black Spider and the Hook. The trio make quick work of Kaldur.

The trio storm the room and attack Wally and Artemis. Readers of the comic book know that this is the second time Wally has fought the Hook and Black Spider.

Cheshire attempts to land a killing blow on Serling only to realize she’s a disguised Miss Martian.

Serling is at the Sandbox Internet Café, guarded by Kaldur, and she has discovered the Fog’s next target: WayneTech.

Robin has an “Oh, crap” moment as he realizes the Fog would end up accessing the Batcave.

Cheshire orders her comrades to keep Young Justice busy while she pursues Serling.

Artemis storms after Cheshire and orders Wally to “take the rest down”.

Wally tells Artemis “You are so not the boss of me”.

“Just do it!”

Superboy and Robin arrive at WayneTech. Superboy attacks the League minions while Robin enters the building. A security guard attempts to lock down the building due to Robin’s unauthorized entry but Dick overrides the lockdown: “Waynetech override. Archie four.” Possible shout-out to Archie Goodwin, a writer on the Batman series. Or Dick is fan of the Riverdale gang.

Cheshire and Artemis fight. Cheshire wins. Megan and Wally take out the Hook and Black Spider.

Cheshire decides against killing Serling as the anti-Fog virus has been completed: “After all, the Shadows may have another use for you.”

Dick’s quick hacking saves Wayne Tech.

Superboy battles Ojo and makes quick work of him.

Cheshire and Artemis have a short fight. Artemis realizes Cheshire is Jade, her older sister.

Cheshire escapes. The rest of the team arrives. Wally claims the Cheshire mask as a souvenir.

Artemis returns to Gotham City. She is immediately confronted by Roy. He warns her “do not hurt my friends” but assures her that “her cover is safe” as he feels Oliver and Bruce have a “good reason for lying”.

Sensei is informed of the mission’s failure but states it’s good that they “have an operative on the inside”.

The first hint of the long-running traitor storyline of season 1.

I mentioned earlier Artemis recognized Cheshire as her sister. I should clarify that wasn’t made explicit in the episode. Cheshire simply hinted that she had information on Artemis that would weaken her position in Young Justice. The cartoon hasn’t mentioned Artemis’s criminal parents at this point either.

Adding Cheshire into the Crock family is an interesting choice. Jade has no connection in the main DC universe. I can’t recall a time Cheshire has even met Artemis in the DC universe.

Jade was a half-French/half-Vietnamese child who was sold into slavery in the Middle East. She later escaped and became a mercenary/assassin. Jade married and later became the widow of Spitting Cobra, an African assassin.

Roy Harper went undercover for the United States government. He met and fell in love with Cheshire. Roy left Jade because he was unwilling to finish his assignment and capture her. Roy didn’t realize Jade was pregnant.

The former lovers encountered one another on a mountain top. The Titans were attempting to prevent Cheshire from assassinating diplomats unaware she was setting up the team to take the blame for the failed diplomatic teams. Cheshire informed Roy that she had given birth to their child but that he would never meet said child.

Roy later tracked down Jade and begged to meet his child. Jade relented and Roy met Lian.

The 1990s were not kind to Cheshire – she went from a scheming mercenary/assassin to a genocidal nutcase. The highlight of Jade’s insanity was unleashing a nuclear bomb on a country, killing every inhabitant.

Needless to say, Roy won full custody.

Cheshire’s portrayal improved significantly under Gail Simone. Jade had a rivalry with Black Canary over Dinah’s role in Lian’s life. Cheshire also played a significant role in Villains United/Secret Six. She became pregnant- and later gave birth – to Thomas “Catman” Blake’s son.

Jade would suffer enormous tragedy when both her children were killed. If I remember correctly, the Blake child’s death was faked in order to keep him from both Jade and Thomas’s enemies. I could be wrong – it’s been a while since I read the issues.

Lian’s death, unfortunately, wasn’t faked.

Roy and Jade would have a short-lived, extremely toxic reunion in the aftermath of Lian’s death.

Flashpoint happened shortly afterwards and DC was reborn as the New 52. Cheshire’s made a few appearances in Red Hood & The Outlaws, Nightwing, and a few other titles. Jade and Roy are former lovers. Sadly, we didn’t receive a New 52 Lian. Boo!

For more of Cheshire, besides Young Justice (which is the best version of Jade), I would recommend her late 1980s Teen Titans appearances, her appearances in Birds of Prey (Gail Simone version), and Villains United and Secret Six.

#Young Justice #Artemis Crock #Roy Harper #Cheshire #Ra's Al Ghul #Sensei #Wally West #Conner Kent #Miss Martian #Oliver Queen #Bruce Wayne #Superboy #Kid Flash #Robin #Dick Grayson

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icameheretowinry · 6 years

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Roy Mustang !

Casey you are blessing me with this ask!! I will take any opportunity to gush over my anime husband. (/▽＼*)｡o○♡

How I feel about this character:

Like Ed, Roy is one of my favorite characters of all time, within and outside the fma universe. In fact, I’d go as far as to put them on equal footing. (I said Ed was my favorite fma character in his ask, but I really can’t choose between them.) While a majority of fma characters are excellently written, Roy is uniquely spectacular in the complexity of his backstory, personality, and relationships with other characters.

Save Wrath, Riza and Hohenheim, Roy’s origins are not only incredibly intriguing, but actually account for many of his unique skills and personality traits. Growing up under the guardianship of Madame Christmas and her network of spies, it’s easy to see where Roy picked up his effortless ploys of charisma, and the nuances of espionage, also likely an environment where he learned to grow up very fast. His aunt’s connections to Grumman, coupled with the cooperation of his adoptive sisters, not only convincingly fortified his false reputation as a womanizer, but put him in the prime position to receive any range of military intel higher ups would blab to a pretty face. In addition, while the nature of his alchemy is/was known to the Hawkeyes, Roy finds himself in the unique position of not only being its soul bearer, but its last, while painfully aware of the damage his power can inflict, and be exploited by others. Interestingly, while there is a lot of turmoil that separates the idealistic boy that spoke to Riza in front of her father’s grave, and the colonel we see during the Elric’s story, he still deeply cares about the state of the world he lives in and how he can change it. However, time has brought a portion of that sense of justice to the personal level, rendering Roy that much more determined, and that much more unstable.

Despite the dark nuances of his past in Ishval, a distinct side of Roy remains remarkably childish and goofy. Forgoing professionalism, he often mirrors Ed’s belligerence in an attempt to enforce his authority, blatantly ignore checks to his own power (i.e. rain) to overcome a problem on his own or assert his own credibility as an alchemist (i.e. that thing where teens think they are invincible), and finds sheer entertainment in tasks he should probably be taking seriously (see above). I’m honestly not quite sure how to define this aspect of his personality. At times quite endearing, I can’t help but think it has something to do with his time spent in Ishval. Is it a coping mechanism? A portion of his teenage self that was sequestered and shut away? Or maybe I’m reading too much into it and he’s just a goof. However, I like to think he only whips it out around people he is truly comfortable with (the Elrics included).

Also, let’s not forget that Roy is incredibly intelligent, and was the youngest state alchemist in history before Ed showed up. He was only 20, I believe, so I can understand his reading of Ed’s personality, and what he could do with his alchemy. He saw a version of himself in Ed, no doubt. He can create explosions large enough to destroy an entire building, yet precise enough to burn a single piece of paper or boil the fluid in Envy’s eyes, even when overcome by rage. Nothing about his alchemy is haphazard or uncalculated. He figures out he can carve a damn transmutation circle in his hand to continue fighting, and has enough medical knowledge to cauterize a serious wound. His skillfully plays within the lines of the Amestrian military, yet all with the intention to turn it around to his advantage. Even when things go wrong, he has his artfully cultivated support system of subordinates, friends, allies, and informants to catch him. Finally, not only is his alchemy more complex than that of any other state alchemists, Roy can perform is blind with little instruction. He’s a calculated strategist, excellent spy, and just plain brilliant.

Finally, Roy is the perfect parallel to Ed. They are both idealistic young boys at some point. They’re both hopeful of a better future. They aren’t foils of each other, but exist beautifully together. Roy is Ed, more or less, 15 years older. They both have past sins to atone for, and unlike Father, they learn to embrace them, and become stronger individuals for the future benefit of the communities they surround themselves with. They’re equally serious, and at times, equally immature. Roy has the advantage of age, while Ed has the advantage of time. From what one has done wrong, the other has done right, and they respect and learn from each other. Roy is very protective of the Elric brothers, and encourages them along their quest. Ed, while he makes fun of Roy, looks up to him, and is one of the few to pull him to his sense from the pits of rage. Neither of them are perfect, but despite all the headbutting and jokes, these two are the ultimate allies, examples, and, just let me say, friends.

And just as an indulgent side note, Roy is HELLA attractive. I can’t remember who made the post recently, but I sincerely agree with the point of how bafflingly handsome he is. His aesthetic is something I personally go for, so yeah, anime husband. *screams into the void* *the void agrees*

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Ummmmmmmmmm. If it isn’t possible to ship royai, I don’t need to exist in this world. Cancel my subscription! I more than ADORE these two. The subtly of their relationship is masterful, and every interaction is honed; built on years of experience, and is beautiful to watch. I adore Roy’s friendship with Maes (see below), but his relationship with Riza is next to none. They are so in sync that they terrify me. It is, honestly a relationship that transcends love. In short, while I don’t always see this in the real world, they are, imo, soulmates. They understand, respect, and love each other. It’s so effortless, the world doesn’t even need an explanation. There are people who get along. There are people who get each other, like Maes and Roy. And then there is the person whose existence fits seamlessly your own, just so. That’s Roy and Riza.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

This is the friendship that created the term bromance y’all. I LOVE these two. For two people that became friends over a piece of damn quiche, I will cry over the development of their relationship for the next 10,000 years. Roy and Maes are THE example of a perfect friendship. They support each other in their goals, joke around, know when to be serious, and just plain GET each other. The only other person who could possibly read that deep into Roy besides Riza, is Maes. They went through hell together in Ishval, and came out on the other side with a steadfast promise to fix the state of their country, and to see it ripped apart ENDED me. I have the distinct feeling that Roy looked up to Maes; seeing the future he had, and believing it could be real. He could fall in love, and have a family. He could be happy. Then, it was all torn away. His prophecy on the battlefield came true, and I bet Roy hated himself for it. I bet he despised himself. This is where the inspiration for my fic “Young” came from. (If you want to read, here’s the link.) If the man he cared for the most, the man who had done less wrong than he, not be happy, not be allowed to live, then why should he even consider the possible existence of a brighter future for himself?

My unpopular opinion about this character:

I really wanted to see other emotions from Roy that straight rage regarding his response to Hughes’ death. We get the “today is a terrible day for rain” moment, but for a character as driven by his emotions as Roy, I really expected more outward displays of grief and despair from him over the death of his best friend. Vulnerable Roy is excellent to watch, and honestly, I’d love to see more of it. While both he and Ed are emotionally vulnerable over the course of the series, it’s shown more blatantly in Ed’s corner, even though he doesn’t cry. There are moments where he expresses genuine despair and helplessness, and they are uniquely powerful (see the scene within Gluttony as a prime example). I get that Roy is supposed to appear cold and collected, but the few times his emotions manifest in ways other than rage, are beyond excellent. He doesn’t need to cry, per se, but a few more varied expressions would be more than appreciated.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

If two (2) things happened, I would be forever happy. First, if Arakawa ever made royai canonically official. *swoons at the mere thought* Second, I need a Team Mustang spinoff series! I need all the office shenanigans, meetings to exchange intelligence gone wacky, initial assembly of the team, flashbacks to Roy’s childhood with Madame Christmas, all the inside jokes about Fuery being the smol son of the group, Havoc’s fail of a love life, Breda’s fear of dogs, and everyone secretly trying to get Roy and Riza together?!?!?! GIVE. IT. TO. ME.

Send me a character, if you dare.

#roy mustang #fma #fma brotherhood #character analysis

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ljfeed-spn-j2-bigbang · 7 years

Text

2017 Masterlist

This year, cloex_brosluvr is the hero for coding allll of this masterpost. Please tell her thank you! Below, you will find master lists of all the entries posted to this community for the 2017 spn_j2_bigbang challenge. I encourage you to scroll through the list and look for anything you might have missed. There is some AWESOME fic and some INCREDIBLE art, and it all deserves to be appreciated! If you see any errors, just let me know and I'm happy to correct them. Start getting ready for 2018, I'll see you right back here in January for sign-ups! JARED/JENSEN Fic title: Wandering Lost Link to art: Here Author name: dugindeep Artist name: thruterryseyes Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Word count: 36,000 Summary: Hired by an eccentric billionaire, Jensen is tasked with transporting a '55 Ford F-100 from California to New York. After the car breaks down, he's stuck in the middle of Nebraska and spends a week getting to know a whole mix of oddballs he'd never spend a minute with back in NYC. "Not all who wander are lost," but Jensen's a little of both as he warms up to the townspeople and the local handyman, who is equal parts peculiar and charming. And maybe he even finds himself along the way. 　 Fic title: To Protect Link to art: Here Author name: twoboys2love Artist name: 2blueshoes Genre: SPN RPS AU Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: Explicit Word count: 27,000 Warnings: Vague references to anxiety, hurt!Jensen, hurt!JDM, UST, violence, firearms, bottom!Jensen, assault Summary: Jensen is a famous author of horror novels. He gets his inspiration from his nightmares and fears. When he moves to an isolated house, he picks up a "stalker" who sends him vaguely threatening letters and flowers. His agent and long-time friend, JDM, hires a retired cop as live-in security for Jensen. As Jared makes himself at home in the house, on the grounds and the pool, they develop a friendship with tantalizing possibilities. What are Jared's motives for the friendship? Is JDM jealous or protective? Jensen ends up with two people he trusts pitted against each other. 　 Fic title: Come What May Link to art: Here Author name: hideurdemoneyes Artist name: quickreaver Genre: RPS AU Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: ~32k Warnings: major angst, fluff, smut, major character death, modern day AU, prostitute!Jensen, writer!Jared, swearing, bottom!Jared, top!Jensen, implied past Jensen/others, implied bottom!Jensen, terminal illness, virgin!Jared, anal sex, anal fingering, rimming, drinking, attempted non-con, mild violence, singing, light feminization Summary: San Francisco, mid-2000's. Jared is fresh off the bus, a wild-eyed dreamer from Texas searching for fame and romance. He finds himself in an unexpected friendship with t he eccentric Misha and his gang of aspiring theatre folk, allowing them to introduce him to the seedy underbelly of the performance world. Along the way, Jared falls madly in love with the star of the failing Castro Theatre, Jensen. But there's another man out for Jensen's affections - the rich, powerful, and sadistic Jeffrey. Based as an AU of Moulin Rouge!, Jared and Jensen's tale is the greatest love story ever told -- and the greatest tragedy of this modern era. 　 Fic title: Forgiving the Past, Finding the Future Link to art: Here Author name: morganadw Artist name: white_laurel Genre: J2 AU Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki Rating: R Word count: 44,176 Warnings: This may contain slight triggers but nothing is shown and most of the serious trauma/abuse is in the past and mentioned in dialogue or description. This is a bottom!Jared fic as well that includes some minor kink and use of handcuffs. See tags and warnings on actual AO3 story post. Summary: Jensen Ackles & Jared Padalecki were once best friends and high school sweethearts in their small hometown of Paxton, Texas. They had plans to run away to start college & their life together on their terms until the night of graduation when betrayal and lies ruined those plans. A decade later found Jared returning back to the town he hated & finding himself confronted by Jensen, the man he believes lied and used him. Jensen wants answers as to why Jared not only ran away without any explanation but also now hates him. Upon learning the truth of that fateful night, Jensen uses some unconventional methods and his job as sheriff to get Jared to listen. He realizes he also has some listening to do as some of what Jared's done comes to light. The former flames must come to grips with their pasts and the events that led to their breakup. They will have to learn to forgive in order to heal and start moving forward towards a future they both still want. 　 Fic title: My Secret Heart Link to art: Here Author name: storyspinner70 Artist name: meesasometimes Genre: RPS Pairing: Jensen/Jared Rating: NC-17 Word count: 25,154 Warnings: bottom!Jared, top!Jensen, OCD!Jensen, genderqueer!Jared, m/m, light angst, schmoop, homophobia Summary: Jared isn’t obsessed with Jensen Ackles. Except, you know, that he really kind of is. A moment of clumsiness brings him into Jensen's life and they start a tentative friendship. As they get closer, they learn exactly how true the old adage is – you can never judge a book by its cover. He learns how Jensen struggles with OCD and the nightmare the world can be for him. He also learns Jensen is a safe place for him to lay his own secrets, and that not everyone will laugh at an all american college boy who, some days, wants nothing more than to be beautiful. College age AU. Reduced age gap boys. Genderqueer!Jared, OCD!Jensen, Not a cross dressing fic. 　 Fic title: Wake Me Up When September Ends Link to art: Here Author name: lullysg Artist name: kaelysta Genre: RPF AU Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 131k Warnings: descriptions of September 11th attack (only in the first couple of chapters), permanent injury, physical disability, PTSD, survivor’s guilt, alcoholism, depression, substance abuse, accidental overdose, a lot of angst, hurt/comfort, hurt!Jared Summary: It started out as a regular Tuesday morning in New York City. The sun was bright in the sky when at 8:46 a.m., a plane crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center. 2,606 people died in there that day, but there were also survivors. Jared and Jensen meet for the first time in a night that hadn't gone so well for either of them, and they build an instant connection. An unplanned second encounter happens while a building is threatening to collapse on their heads, and an impossible choice has to be made. The attack leaves deep scars, both physically and mentally, and they are going to learn that the hardest part wasn’t surviving September 11th. Finding the strength to keep living in the aftermath of what that day caused is what proves to be the real challenge, especially when the light at the end of the tunnel seems impossible to reach. 　 Fic title: When the Devil Came to Pluto Link to art: Here Author name: tsuki_no_bara Artist name: amberdreams Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: PG Word count: 21,300 Warnings: Chad. Asexual!Jensen. A certain amount of historical hand waving. Non-CW actors. Summary: The New Mexico territory in the 1870s is a vast and wild place, all scrubland and hills and mystery, home to gunslingers and miners and working girls and scattered native tribes. Jared and Jensen live in a little mining town called Pluto, keeping the peace for a brothel and occasionally checking up on the mine. The land around them is full of secrets and stories, which Jared is eager to learn and share. And then one night Jensen vanishes and Jared sets off through the desert to find him. A herd of ghost ponies brings him to the devil's front door, and even though the devil is not what Jared was expecting, he still thinks they can make a deal so he can get Jensen back. 　 Fic title: Bound Link to art: Here Author name: junkerin Artist name: emmatheslayer Genre: RPS Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/Misha (mentioned), Jensen/Lehne (non-con) Rating: NC-17 Word count: 35,809 Warnings: Non-con, slavery Summary: Thanks to nanobots humanity got finally rid of all diseases. Or so they thought. That was when "Omega" the last disease hits. It leaves the patient paralyzed while conscious. Catlin Padalecki finds a treatment in form of bonds or tapes that enables the "omegas" to move again. But her invention gets misused and sends the omegas into slavery. 25 years later Jensen Ackles is a freed omega who works with the resistance. He wants to pressure Catlin into helping them. But he only finds her son Jared and Jared is to not willing to help even after Jensen makes him an omega too. Can the two stubborn men overcome their differences? Will they be able to overcome hate and prejudice in order to free the omegas and to set right what once went wrong? 　 Fic title: A Song in the Stars Link to art: Here Author name: strive2bhappy Artist name: immortalfire13 Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 40,000 Warnings: mentions of past torture, scarring from said torture, a bit of blood from overuse of powers Summary: Jared Padalecki has dreamed of taking to the skies since he was five-years-old. When he becomes an adult and builds a spaceship of his own, he gets to do just that, looking for adventure -- little did he know the adventure waiting for him. Jensen Ackles is born part human, part Terryn and his life as an outcast is difficult -- music is his only real escape. When he's captured by the Dominion, an organization hell-bent on taking over every galaxy in every way they can, he's used as a lab experiment to see how his special, combined heritage can be advantageous for them. Fleeing Dominion control, he vows to himself, they will never find him again. A chance meeting between Jared and Jensen helps both of them get what they're looking for -- and the way things end up, it may have been more than just chance. From various planets throughout different galaxies, to nights under the stars in space, Jared and Jensen find in each other something worth fighting -- and possibly dying -- for. 　 Fic title: Silly Love Songs Link to art: Here Author name: nerdypastrychef Artist name: liliaeth Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC17 Word count: 28,436 Summary: Jensen’s life revolves around love songs. He feels about music the way that most kids feel about Disney movies. They all have a special place in his heart and all of his important memories are embedded with a soundtrack of his favorites. Jared, on the other hand, doesn’t care much about music beyond background noise and love songs are low on his list. But when he moves into a new apartment in downtown Austin his neighbor’s singing through their shared walls start to change his mind. A love story told in three acts. A YouTube Playlist for the music. 　 Fic title: Open Warfare: The Secret of a Successful Marriage Link to art: Here Author name: whiskygalore Artist name: magic_penguin Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 40k Warnings: Omega Jensen, Alpha Jared, Age switch, Very brief attempted non-con, and potty mouthed boys. Summary: There was a time that arranged marriages for Omegas were a common occurrence: thirty or forty years ago. Now, thankfully, Omegas have the same rights as everyone else, are free to live their own lives, to marry whomever they choose. Except for Jensen. Because, in a move that will save Ackles’ Systems from bankruptcy, Jensen’s dad has just signed him up for an arranged marriage to Jared Padalecki. Unfortunately, Jared is an idiot with a poor choice in friends, and Jensen is a stubborn dick with an unconventional profession, so it’s no surprise when their marriage quickly degenerates into a state of open warfare. 　 Fic title: The Pie that Binds Link to art: Here Author name: herminekurotowa Artist name: liliaeth Genre: RPS Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Jensen/Matt, Jared/OMC’s Rating: NC-17 Word count: 29,000 Warnings: kidnapping, slavery, non-consensual drug use, most dubious consent due to drug use, attempted rape, minor character deaths, hurt!Jared, hurt!Jensen Summary: Jensen lives in the woods, He'd never thought his sweet tooth could get him into trouble so deep he might drown in it. Jared lives in a palace made of stone because he's the king, but he's not very good at it. 　 Fic title: Till Death Do Us Part Link to art: Here Author name: aggiedoll Artist name: mangacat201 Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 (PG for art) Word count: + ~126k Warnings: major character deaths (for fic, no warnings for art) Summary: When two young men, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, bump into each other in the crowded cab zone in front of a bustling airport, in the middle of a fierce comeback of winter in spring time, they don't know yet how their fates will soon intertwine – and how this connection has started years before without them realizing. When the competition between the ruling mob families Jensen and Jared belong to turns into an open war, things start to get out of hand. Mob Family politics threaten to crash and burn the forbidden love, marriages are being plotted, death sentences spoken. A mysterious blue eyed consigliore, called “The Angel” and a ruthless Russian mob boss who likes to call himself Lucifer are woven into the deadly game. A game that might become obsolete, as Jensen is fighting a war of his own against an illness no one knows of, and Jared desperately tries to write his own rules by turning his parents´ schemes against them... 　 Fic title: Therapy Link to art: Here Author name: sanshal Artist name: evian_fork Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: R Word count: 37,345 Warnings: There are instances of male-nudity, and (because of the theme) descriptions of power-imbalance. Also mentioned are one incident (each) of spanking, diapering, figging and past/off-screen, but referenced instance of self-harm. References to past dub-con. Jared suffers from self-hate/ excessive guilt and self-image issues. Unevenly sized chapters. Some language. ... and I think that covers it? Summary: Jared embarks on a D/S relationship to combat his depression. 　 Fic title: Of Princes and Prophecies Link to art: Here Author name: zubeneschamali Artist name: fridayblues Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 44,101 Summary: Jared has lost everything thanks to the usurper High King. He can't take any of it back, but he can strike out the only way he knows how: kidnap and ransom. The High King's fiancé is riding across the country and through Jared's forest, and wouldn't he be a fair prize? Jensen has not quite resigned himself to the fate of being the High King's second spouse when bandits strike. If he can get away from them, it might be his only chance for a life of his own. But once he finds out who the bandits' leader really is, everything will change, for himself and for his kingdom. 　 Fic title: The Lighthouse Link to art: Here Author name: timehasa_way Artist name: blondebitz Genre: RPS Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 21,388 Warnings: top!Jensen, language/sex, some angst, AU Summary: When his adoptive mother loses her eyesight, a clueless Jensen takes her to the San Antonio Lighthouse for the Blind, an organization meant to empower, train, and educate those with her condition. Upon their first visit there, they meet Jared, a helpful volunteer who's been through a similar experience with his grandfather. Jared helps Jensen adjust by befriending him and accompanying him to blindness sensitivity training classes. Jensen comes to realize that he and Jared have a connection he can't ignore, and that this helpful volunteer could be the best thing that's ever happened to both him and the woman who raised him. 　 Fic title: Flickers Upon Cordillera Link to art: Here Author name: cyndrarae Artist name: yanyann Genre: RPS, werewolf lore AU, shifter lore AU, post-apocalyptic AU Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki (others: Jensen Ackles/Matt Cohen, Jared Padalecki/Adrianne Palicki, Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Andrew Lincoln, etc.) Rating: NC-17 Word count: ~70k Warnings: explicit m/m sex, bottom!Jared, BDSM elements, dubious consent, prostitution, non-graphic violence, character deaths, some heterosexual content, minor characters from cast of The Walking Dead Summary: It’s a brave new post-apocalyptic world. Humans no longer rule the planet, Lorics do. And at the bottom of the food chain are the shifters. This is a world pretending to be better, but racial tensions simmer thick under the surface. Then there’s Jared, genius-level shifter, pretending to be someone pretending to be Jared. And there’s Jensen, powerful Loric Alpha, falling in love with a human but accidentally bonding with a shifter. It’s an epical comedy of errors that snowballs into the biggest socio-political scandal of the millennium. One this brave new post-apocalyptic world sorely needed. 　 Fic title: The Load Link to art: Here Author name: zmphony Artist name: myukur Genre: RPF Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 56k Warnings: Brief attempted non-con (not main characters), age gap, bottom!Jensen, daddy!kink, explicit sex, language. Summary: Jared had never picked up a hitch-hiker before. He’s spent the last five years behind the wheel of a semi-truck, looking down the endless black ribbon road like the barrel of a gun. This was his job – his life. It’s when he’s passing through Loveland, Colorado, a few weeks into the haul, that he sees him; sitting on the side of Route 287, a few scarce fingers from the yellow line dividing him from the wandering shoulder to Limbo, USA and instantaneous death. His thumb pokes out of a hole in his ratty black gloves, arms covered in flannel and denim, and his whole body is strapped under worn, beaten overalls. The line of his legs, constantly stepping backwards, becomes fractured at the calf where steel-toe boots begin. Overalls, Jared thinks. 　 Fic Title: Yours, Mine, and Ours Link to art: Here Author name: angelzfurys Artist name: bluefire986 Genre: Supernatural RPS Pairing: J2 - Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki Rating: NC-17 Word count: 54,000 Warnings: slight but not to detailed self harm and thoughts of suicide, not very detailed car accident with minor injury, male on male sex (just two small scenes) and some teenage sexual exploring in general. Summary: Jared and Jensen have been accidentally switched at birth. They grow up in vastly different circumstances owing to the fact that Jared is a werewolf in a family of humans who sometimes masquerades as the family dog while Jensen is the lone human in his pack and feels ever the third wheel. When the mix up is discovered it shakes up both families and opens a new can of worms for all involved. 　 Fic title: Fair Winds and Following Seas Link to art: Here Author name: riyku Artist name: phoenix1966 Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 21,000 Warnings: age difference, mentions of permanent injury (not the main characters) Summary: Deadliest Catch AU. Keep your head down. Work hard. Never wear a hat in the wheelhouse or your luck will take a nosedive. This is the rookie advice that Jared gets in his first few days as a deckhand on board an Alaskan crabbing boat, in between catnaps and ice storms, twenty-foot seas and more near misses than he really wants to count. He also learns early mornings followed by late nights aren't enough to kill a person, but ten minutes in below freezing waters might be, and that the biggest favor he can do for himself is to try and stay on the captain's good side. Jensen rose quickly through the ranks to become one of the youngest captains the fleet has ever seen, but he has been around long enough to know that no one ever gets through a season without a few battle scars. It's Jared's quick wit, sarcastic mouth, and a particular sort of point-of-no-return look about him that makes Jensen hire Jared on a whim, reminds Jensen a little of himself fifteen years ago. There's nothing better than watching the morning break over the bow of the ship - Jensen just needs to keep Jared alive and well long enough for the kid to figure that out for himself. 　 Fic title: Breaking the Ice Link to art: Here Author name: ashtraythief Artist name: dancing_adrift Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: ~70k Summary: Jared has been harboring a crush on Jensen, the prince from the far north, ever since he was fourteen, so when his parents announce that they’ve chosen Jensen as his husband, Jared couldn’t be happier. But when Jensen arrives in Scayen, Jared realizes that there’s more to him than meets the eye — and even more that Jensen doesn’t want Jared to see. But it shouldn’t take much more than Jared’s sunny charm to melt Jensen’s icy facade, right? Except it isn’t so easy dealing with cultural differences and misunderstandings; sometimes it takes a lot of food, some good friends’ advice, a little kitten, and even a bit of magic to overcome a rocky start. 　 Fic title: Love is a Burning Thing and It Makes a Fiery Ring Link to art: Here Author name: deanshot Artist name: bflyw Genre: RPS AU Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 32,759 Warnings: Bottom Jensen, scenes of fire damage Summary: Fire, one of nature’s purest forms consumes as it goes, caressing the earth in its fiery grip, like a serpents tongue it flickers and wraps its coils around living things before turning them black as life departs. Being part of the Glenveagh Fire search and rescue team was a dream job for Jared. But being part of a community that cared for each other and had no problem with Jared loving another man who happened to be the most gorgeous green eyed man he had ever met but also understood Jared’s passion for his job. Everything was going well until on a seemingly normal sunny day, one fights to stay alive while the other has to wait at his boyfriend’s base of operations. Each one living through their darkest day not knowing if they’ll see each other again. 　 Fic title: The Deeper Illusion Link to art: Here Author name: hybridshade Artist name: riverofwind Genre: RPS, AU Pairing: J2 Rating: Nc-17 Word count: 37k Warnings: includes some minor/previous pairings other than J2, dub-con situations, mind control, power imbalance, injured!Jensen Summary: Agent Jared Padalecki of the FBI's Magical Injustices Division is just doing his job when his team manages to capture high-level magic user and thief extraordinaire, Jensen Ackles. The takedown seems way too easy for Jared's liking, but Jensen refuses to divulge his motives until an attack on his life forces him to give up a name. That name is JD Morgan - an infamous mind-weaver and all-round bad guy that the MID has been quietly hunting for years. Using Jensen as bait, the Bureau decides to tie him and Jared together in more ways than one, and neither is particularly happy about the new arrangement. However, in the process of luring Morgan out into the open, Jensen's precariously kept secrets threaten to be exposed, and he and Jared may just be forced to put their lives on the line. 　 Fic title: Swallowing Matches Link to art: Here Author name: sleepypercy Artist name: emmatheslayer Genre: RPS AU Pairing: J2 Rating: NC-17 Word count: 32k Warnings: underage sexual content (younger Jared is the aggressor) starting at 13, implications of violence, actual violence, serial killers, rough sex, toxic relationships, bottom Jensen, Jensen/OMC Summary: Jared's a budding serial killer and Jensen's the boy next door who sometimes baby-sits. They've always been obsessed with each other, and Jared's always been able to get Jensen to do anything he wants. The problem is, Jared gets jealous. And when Jensen hits high school, Jared's not the only one who notices how pretty the boy is. 　 Fic title: Singularity Link to art: Here Author name: paleogymnast Artist name: lightthesparks Genre: RPS (sci fi au) Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: R Word count: 21,000 Warnings: descriptions and discussion of terrorism, war crimes, violence to children, and other unsettling subjects in a sci-fi setting; nonconsensual body modification; slavery; xenophobia; apartheid, other dystopian elements, and widespread mindf*ckery Summary: Thousands of years ago, humans left Earth and traveled to the stars. Hundreds of years later, humans left Earth once again, and founded a new home, New Terra. New Terra exists in peace, but danger lurks in her past, and the calm is nothing but a paper-thin illusion. War is returning—a centuries-old conflict between humans and "Pios," the pioneers who left earth hundreds of years before the settlers of New Terra. Will Jensen unlock the mystery of his past? Will Special Agent Jared Padalecki find the traitor responsible for the worst act of terrorism in New Terra's history? Or will their shared secrets push them towards a deeper hidden truth? 　 Fic title: Mayhem Afloat Link to art: Here Author name: candygramme and spoonlessone Artist name: thruterryseyes Genre: (rps) Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 33,572 Warnings: Minor Character Death Summary: A cruise should be a relaxing vacation away from the worries of the everyday world, but with an international assassin running wild, not to mention a master jewel thief, relaxing is the last word Jared Padalecki would use to describe his voyage. Fortunately there's a really hot lounge singer onboard to help take his mind off things. 　 Fic title: ...and heartbreak ensued Link to art: Here Author name: cillab42 Artist name: jessie_cristo73 Genre: SPN RPF Pairing: Jared/Jensen, Chris Kane/Steve Carlson, Tom Welling/Mike Rosenbaum, Chad Michael Murray/Matt Cohen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 75,041 Warnings: mentions of abortion, miscarriage, mpreg, A/B/O, werewolves, omegaverse, top!Jensen, Bottom!Jared, suicide attempt Summary: Jared loves Jensen, he does; he just doesn’t like being an Omega. He’s assimilating, but he’ll never be the perfect Omega that society demands. After a year of hell, he’s still attempting to reconcile who he was with who he is now and the answers aren’t easy. Especially when Jared spends his free time dreaming of subjugating his Alpha and have Jensen bend to his will. Jared plans to continue to struggle against his mate’s authority until Jensen comes to the aid of two Omegas whose problem takes up Jensen’s time and awaken a jealousy in Jared he wasn’t aware he had the capacity to feel. 　 Fic title: Untitled Superheroes or Why you should never let the media decide your superhero name Link to art: Here Author name: shadowcat_spn Artist name: siennavie Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 20k Warnings: Swearing, description of violence and injuries (minor, not too graphic), sexual situations, implied!bottom Jared Summary: Splashing color from your fingertips isn't the greatest superpower to have. But when a new villain emerges who only brings darkness it is left to a young reporter and his disabled chameleon to save the city. And maybe fall in love with his roommate along the way... Featuring Jared as a reluctant hero with a peculiar gift and a sense for bad timing, lots of color being splashed around and two boys being oblivious to what is right in front of them. Or: The hero and the villain unknowingly share a flat. 　 Fic title: Blues in the Night Link to art: Here Author name: oobydooby67 Artist name: beelikej Genre: J2 RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 33,000 Warnings: Vampire AU, blood, blood kink, graphic sex, PTSD, WWII, graphic violence, depiction of war, minor character death, implied character death, torture, angst, explicit sex/language. Summary: The search for a missing elder leads Jensen to Los Angeles, California. It is his responsibility to question contacts and connections about Tyman, who has not been heard from or seen in a year. Frustrated with the search, Jensen meets a human who claims to have had a casual relationship with Tyman. Jared trades information for two pastrami sandwiches and ten thousand dollars. Unfortunately, after the trade, Jensen is no closer to finding Tyman, and a lot closer to Jared than he ever thought possible. 　 Fic title: The Wounded Don't Cry Link to art: Here Author name: pinkisgoth Artist name: sinnerforhire Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: PG-13 (technically under the MPAA: R for language) Word count: 87k Summary: When artist Jensen Ackles moved to the Pacific Northwest from the southwest with his family – adoptive father Jeff and adoptive brothers Chris and Quinn – it gave him a chance to paint a whole new world of mountains and forest at the beautiful plateau near Mount Rainier. Two years later, disaster struck when Jensen was the victim of a violent attack that left his hands permanently injured to the point that he could no longer paint. During the two years since then, he has spent days helping his father and brother at the farm, café and draft horse rescue that has become the center of their lives on the plateau while slowly recovering, physically and mentally. One day their world is shaken when their new neighbor – a local tycoon infamous for his ruthless business methods – informs them that the survey line on their property is wrong and they are about to lose almost a third of their pasture to him. That is, unless one of them can work for him for a year, in which case he will deed over the property. Jensen goes to work for their mysterious new neighbors – coffee magnate Jared Padalecki and his lawyer Matt Cohen – but is shocked to discover one of his own paintings hanging in the house. As the past is slowly revealed and revisited, their lives are increasingly intertwined until the fateful day where all their lives may be changed – or destroyed – forever. 　 Fic title: Gladiator: A love story Link to art: Here Author name: zara_zee Artist name: evian_fork Genre: J2 RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 29,930 Warnings: violence, minor and spn-canon character deaths, torture, references to animal deaths, references to executions, m/m sex, slavery, branding, corporal punishment, non-con touching, attempted assault, non-graphic references to non-con and dub-con, fanciful Romanization of names, anachronistic language. Probably. Well it’s not ancient Latin, anyway. Summary: As a second son, Jensen Akelsen of Cimbria will never inherit the family farm, so he travels to Rome with a trader to join the Auxilia—the non-citizen corps of the Roman Imperial Army. Unfortunately, Jensen’s travel companion proves less than trustworthy and he finds himself sold into slavery. Jensen’s fighting skills see him bought by Ludus Armentarius, the training school which owns the most popular—and most terrifying—gladiator in all of Rome; the infamous Colossus, Jared of Illyria. Bitterly angry and struggling to adjust, the very last thing Jensen expects to find in his new life is friendship, romance and love. 　 Fic title: You're My Mortal Flaw; I'm Your Fatal Sin Link to art: Here Author name: backrose_17 Artist name: banbury Genre: RPS AU Pairing: Jensen/Jared Rating: Mature with a few NC-17 scenes Word count: 31,522 Warnings: Minor character death, top!Jensen, bottom!Jared, child trauma Summary: Jared has always been a fan of heroes and hopes to someday be the sidekick to his favorite hero the Dragon. What he didn't expect was one of the Dragon's worst villains to kill his parents and his life changed forever after that night. Being the adopted son of his hero's alter ego Jeffrey Dean Morgan Jared vows to do whatever it takes to prove himself to Jeff that he is a worthy hero. The day that Jensen Ackles and the new villain Chaos arrive into his life Jared's world is altered once again. Jared finds himself swept off his feet by Jensen and unable to say no to Chaos as Tempest. He has no clue what Chaos and Jensen are the same people, they, on the other hand, have known for a while who he is and plan to never let him go. If Jared knew what was waiting for him in the shadows he would have been happy dealing with the fact that his boyfriend was a dangerous villain. 　 Fic title: Muse FM Link to art: Here Author name: cleflink Artist name: dollarformyname Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: PG Word count: 31,920 Warnings: Fantasy violence Summary: Jared's job is boring, boring, boring. As a night security guard, he protects empty buildings by sitting on his ass and watching the security cameras while listening to a lot of talk radio. Not exactly the life he dreamed of for himself but hey, it's a living. When he gets chosen for a new job babysitting the front desk at Muse FM radio station, Jared's mostly expecting more of the same. He's not expecting Jensen, the mysterious, hoodie-wearing host of Muse FM's overnight show, to catch his interest quite so thoroughly, or to be quite so difficult to figure out. He's not expecting so many unanswered questions about what, exactly, he's supposed to be protecting Jensen from. He's also not expecting to care so much about either of those things. Oh, and he's definitely not expecting the monsters. 　 Fic title: Shipwreck Between Your Ribs Link to art: Here Author name: cherie_morte Artist name: cassiopeia7 Genre: RPS Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: NC-17 Word count: 40,913 Warnings: Explicit sexual content and mental illness (supernaturally induced depression, suicidal ideation). Consent issues typical of selkie tales are not present between the main pairing but are discussed. Summary: AU: All Jensen wanted was a nice month at the beach. What he got was an over-affectionate seal that happens to turn into a hot guy when no one else is around. Jared makes Jensen’s summer better than he ever could have expected, but when his vacation is up and he has to return to the real world, Jensen finds that he's fallen in love with someone who can only truly love the ocean. 　 SAM/DEAN Fic title: Sometimes Love Don't Feel Like It Should Link to art: Here Author name: amypond45 Artist name: stormbrite Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean Rating: PG-13 for show-level violence, sexual suggestiveness, bad language, dark themes Word count: 27,784 Warnings: suggested non-con, self-harm, addiction, sibling incest (not explicit) Summary: Investigating a rodent problem in the bunker, Sam and Dean find a magic door that reveals alternate realities, worlds that came into being when Dean made different choices throughout his life, sometimes disastrous ones. When Dean finds another version of his little brother, one who is wounded and alone and needs his help, his instincts lead to potential disaster as he learns that things aren't always what they seem. 　 Fic title: Flyover States Link to art: Here Author name: tardisonameter Artist name: badbastion Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean Rating: NC-17 Word count: 32,000 Warnings: sexual content, canon-typical violence, angst Summary: Sam's world tips on its axis after his girlfriend dies in a fire and his brother is the only thing that keeps him from drowning. Despite his every intention to hunt down the demon that killed both Jessica and his mother 22 years ago and then returning to his studies, that plan grows more and more distant. The ever-presence of Dean's care morphs into something else over time, born from the need for comfort and fueled by danger and desperation, and Sam realizes something about the both of them. But transitioning from being brothers that are just beginning to find their way around each other again to something more, something that could potentially destroy them for good, is anything but easy. 　 Fic title: Seven Rows of Seven Link to art: Here Author name: smalltrolven Artist name: tx_devilorangel Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean Rating: NC-17 Word count: 28,500 Summary: Soulless Sam reconsiders the leprechaun’s offer to retrieve his soul from the Cage. As they leave Elwood, Indiana behind them, Soulless Sam reads the fairy spell book in the car and weighs the pros and cons of giving up the freedom of being without a soul. Due to a series of ill-considered decisions, the payment of boons owed to the fairies cause changes to the brothers' relationship that have been a lifetime in the making. 　 Fic title: The lost plateau - The lost daughter Link to art: Here Author name: siriala Artist name: kuwlshadow Genre: Wincest AU, partial fusion with The Lost World Pairing: Dean/Sam Rating: NC-17 Word count: 30k Warnings: hurt Dean and hurt Sam, bottom!Sam, top!Dean, human Castiel, animalistic Impala, dinosaurs, ghosts and demons Summary: Still trapped on the plateau without the first clue about a way to escape, the members of the Campbell-Singer expedition settle in their new lives through more adventures and strange discoveries : backbreaking work down in the mines, ghosts and monsters, deadly volcano and ceremonial caverns ! The Winchester brothers and their allies might stand a chance of surviving all foes and obstacles if they prove smarter than the traitor in their midst, ready to take advantage of their weaknesses to get what he wants more than anything. Notes : this fic is a sequel to my 2016 bigbang, The lost plateau – The lost brother. If you haven't read it, you'll find everything you need to know in the new story. 　 Fic title: I Wanna Live With You (Even When We‘re Ghosts) Link to art: Here Author name: runedgirl Artist name: alexxkah Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean Rating: NC-17 Word count: 23,400 Warnings: Character death (Dean is a ghost), suicidal ideation Summary: The Winchesters learned a long time ago that it takes more than death to part them. But Dean didn’t count on two things when he decided to stick around – Sam harbors feelings that aren’t just brotherly for him, and Bobby was right about what eventually happens to ghosts. 　 Fic title: Moments Lost Link to art: Here Author name: milly_gal Artist name: stormbrite Genre: Wincest Pairing: Sam/Dean. Pre-Crowley/Castiel Rating: NC-17 Word count: 29,780 Warnings: Temporary Major Character Death. Suicide. Blood, guts and gore. Dark Themes. Time Travelling Winchesters Summary: Sam's gone, Dean's barely holding on, and Castiel - well, Castiel's left nursing a man who's already given up. When Dean decides The Empty would be preferable to a life without his brother, Castiel has to find a way to scrub the red from his clothes and fix the world, a world that needs the Winchesters. It takes a deal with a deity who wants nothing more than to see the Winchesters burn, a reforming of old friendships, and an alliance with an unholy creature to bring Sam back into play and stop Dean making a cataclysmic mistake (again). Now, all that's stopping the universe being shredded is a group of individuals that make absolutely no sense: two desperate and disheveled Hunters, one half flaccid Angel, and a Demon who doesn't know which side of the fence he's sitting on any more. Can Dean let go of this Sam? Will Crowley finally pick a side? Can Castiel live with his guilt? Who knows, but one thing is set in stone: The Winchesters and their family never give up without a fight and they'll take whoever they need to, down with them. 　 Fic title: (Only) the Gods Can Dwell Forever Link to art: Here Author name: swan_song21 Artist name: blackrabbit42 Genre: wincest Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester Rating: NC-17 Word count: +34k Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence Summary: In his desperation to save his brother from The Mark of Cain, Sam makes a pact with Ishtar, the Sumerian goddess of love. The story follows Sam as he struggles to finish his quest, and comes to terms with his relationship with Dean. Only to discover that the solution has been with him all along. 　 Fic title: Stillness in Winter Link to art: Here Author name: glasslogic Artist name: blythechild Genre: Wincest - unrelated , slash Pairing: Dean/Sam Rating: R Word count: 34k Warnings: Vampires, Murder and slow, sleepy sex Summary: As the world around him gives up its autumn colors and settles down into the long cold of winter, Sam's own body is finally slowing into its own kind of hibernation. Deep in the mountains with only Dean and a broken laptop for company, isolation is their best defense against the outside world during the vulnerability of Sam's transformation. Sam didn't expect becoming a vampire to be easy, but he didn't expect almost a decade of being mind-numbingly bored either. He should have remembered that the world has cures for boredom – and the cure is always worse than the disease.　 Fic title: The Many Bitchfaces of Sam Winchester Link to art: Here Author name: majestic_duxk Artist name: stargazingchola Genre: Gen Rating: PG Word count: 22400 Warnings: canonical death, but not all canonical deaths, show level violence, spn au, John Winchester neutral, canon verse, canon divergent, brotherly relationship, angst, misunderstandings Summary: Sam's always had a way with words. Dean's always admired it, respected it. But what he can do with a single facial expression? That's pure genius. 　 Fic title: A Step Beyond Logic Link to art: Here Author name: firesign10 Artist name: red_b_rackham Genre: Gen Rating: R Word count: 20,760 Warnings: Major Character Death, Side Character Deaths Summary: When Gadreel kills Kevin, it triggers a series of personal losses and grief that devastate Dean. He continues to hunt, but travels a path of moral ambiguity, self-searching, and analysis that ultimately leads him to take drastic action. Working with Rowena, Dean confronts God (Chuck) and seeks to violently reshape the world on a scale that even the Winchesters have never attempted before. Fic title: Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death Link to art: Here Author name: ameraleigh Artist name: kuwlshadow Genre: SPN AU Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: R Word count: 31191 Warnings: character death, sexual content, horror elements Summary: When Sam came home, they thought that their troubles would be over. That they could get back the normal life they craved so much but when the demon who had spent more than a decade torturing them threatens to take away everything and everyone they love; Sam and Dean are forced to team up with Crowley via a binding spell. Instead of normal they are forced to deal with the horrors of time travel, curses, evil spirits, the devil and a weapon that could potentially blow up their entire lives. Continues on from His Name Was Death and Hell Followed with Him. Fic title: Curse Breaker Link to art: Here Author name: all_the_damned Artist name: m14mouse Genre: Supernatural AU Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Castiel, Dean/Sam/Castiel Rating: NC-17 Word count: 50,722 Warnings: Mystery, Horror, Memory manipulation, Spells and curses, Light blasphemy, Brief references to torture--including sexual assault and mutilation, War, Demon deals, Hellhounds, Blood drinking, Slavery, Immortality, Deception and lies, Sibling Rivalry, Wings, Rimming, Biting, Anal, Hand feeding, Humiliation, Service Submission, Magically induced asexuality, Complicated book restoration Summary: In Heaven, all angels bow to Michael, immortal god and supreme ruler, the architect of peace and order. At his command, Castiel, a humble librarian, is sent to Hell to serve as ambassador, the liaison between regimented Heaven and unruly Hell. Castiel doesn't feel up to the task, especially after meeting Lord Winchester, the charismatic and cruel ruler of a large territory in Hell. At Winchester Hall Castiel finds secrets, lies and manipulations. But he may also find the answer to the disturbing dreams that have long disrupted his sleep. Fic title: Sweets For My Sweet Link to art: Here Author name: ascn Artist name: knowmefirst Genre: SPN AU Pairing: Sabriel Rating: NC-17 Word count: 24k Warnings: Gore, Murder, Blood, Blood-play, Mental Illness, Hallucinations, Injury, Bleeding, Serial Killers, Psychology, mentions of abuse, mentions of sex trafficking, death Summary: Serial killers Sam Winchester and Gabriel Novak dole out their brand of poetic justice as the Karma Killers, disposing of those who have slipped through the law's fingers. After a botched kill tears them apart, leaving Gabriel in jail and Sam floundering on his own, the two Killer lovebirds have to find a way to be together, or die trying. 　 from Supernatural and J-Squared Big Bang Challenge! http://ift.tt/2ucrgza

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