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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Vader Tries to Help

People encouraged me to share the dead dove concept! Yay! It’s a horrible concept with an undertone of comedic absurdity in the sense that you keep waiting to see what awful, incredibly stupid thing Vader is going to do next. Like it’s horrifying but it’s also very dumb.

By moving forward into the fic, you acknowledge that this is intended to be dark and liable to be upsetting, and that you are taking responsibility for your own engagement with the material.

This AU was helped along on discord by several parties but tbh I’m not sure how many of them actually want to be named.

Warnings: Mutual Extremely Dubious Consent (forced by a third party), drugging, irrational behavior (Vader), nonconsensual body modification, forced pregnancy, imprisonment, threatened torture of a child (not followed through on)

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Vader captures Obi-Wan a few years into the Empire. Because Vader is Anakin, but even worse on the emotional bullshit, he decides that he needs to keep Obi-Wan safe but harmless. Vader also got Luke in the whole 'capturing Kenobi' situation, so part of what Vader's thinking about all this is that Obi-Wan tried to protect The Baby and so Vader kind of owes him, obviously.

Palpatine lets him keep Obi-Wan "safe," because threatening Obi-Wan is a convenient way to make Vader shut up and do what he's told. Palpatine can kind of tell that threatening the toddler would make Vader lose his shit and attempt to kill good ol' Palps, so threatening the middle-aged depressed alcoholic being kept in Vader's guest room with Force-nullifying cuffs is pretty good. It's an additional layer of emotional torture on top of the electrocution of Vader himself!

Vader has Obi-Wan taking care of Luke, mostly, because Vader has Obligations and A Job, and Obi-Wan wouldn't hurt Luke, duh. He might try to escape with the kid, but he won't be successful, and Obi-Wan will definitely put Luke's safety first, so that probably won't happen.

This is all fairly normal for a variety of AUs, granted, and not very dark.

But see, Obi-Wan behaves. He's aware of how tenuous the situation is for him and his charge, so he plays nice. And Vader decides to reward that.

By giving him Cody.

There's an implied thought process there that Obi-Wan was fond of Cody, and Cody was fond back, and now that the Jedi aren't around, they can follow through instead of worrying about some silly Code. Vader's nullified the orders to kill all the Jedi, of course, possibly dosed their food with an aphrodisiac so they don't try to talk themselves out of What They Obviously Want.

Now, we’re going to make it a little darker, because why not make things worse by having Vader try to make things better?

Vader somehow twisted himself around to encouraging them to have a baby. This is accomplished through a combination of Sith Magic and nonconsensual surgery, and lots of questionable drugs.

Obi-Wan just wakes up in a hospital bed with a womb one morning, and is informed of the surgery then and there, after it’s already happened. The droid telling him about it is just like "in the Lord Vader's infinite kindness--" and Obi-Wan just.

Anakin.

What the fuck.

What in the actual fuck made you think this was a good idea.

(The Sith Chemicals, probably.)

I feel like Palpatine would maybe even order the pregnancy induction just to torture them by proxy because that's like eight levels of Fuck No and he barely has to do anything except tell Vader that he'd like to see what kind of children a Jedi Master like Obi-Wan has.

Luke needs friends, doesn't he?

Obi-Wan is having some very complicated emotions about all of this because Vader is, in his own absolutely insane way, trying to help.

Anakin wanted babies and Padme wanted babies so clearly, if Obi-Wan and Cody are in love, then they also want babies!

Cody and Obi-Wan very well might not be in love. Anakin definitely could have misinterpreted. It’s probably more angsty if they're just friends who ended up in this bullshit together.

(He's taking baby fever to new and somewhat horrifying heights, because... he would adore Obi's kids.)

(His family button is suprisingly large for a mass murderer.)

Vader Kindly Informs Bail That Obi-Wan Is Alive And Unharmed. Bail was a friend of Obi-Wan's, telling him this is only helpful and will keep Alderaan from getting more rebellious out of personal insult. Obviously.

Vader is almost offended when Bail implies he might hurt Obi-Wan. He kept his son safe, he owes him. Speaking of, don’t you have a child? How old is she, again? It would be Good for her to make friends, wouldn’t it? :)

Palpatine is just like... sitting back and eating evil popcorn as Vader runs around, ruining people's lives by trying to be less of The Worst than before.

Palps barely has to do anything, Anakin's fucking it up on his own!

Could have been just a sly "Kenobi is so attached to young Luke, but now that you've been reunited with your son, perhaps he'd be happier with a child of his own?" Come at it from both "make Obi-Wan happy" and "protect your relationship with Luke" angles.

Vader: I can't have babies anymore due to what you did to me on Mustafar. Obi-Wan: So you're punishing me by forcing me to have them instead? Vader: No! Children are a gift that you have been cruelly denied by the Order that held us in its chains! Obi-Wan: ...oh, right, you're insane. Forgot about that. Somehow.

Big dramatic speech about how the Jedi Order spent so long making them take lives, he’s giving Obi-Wan a chance to create it! To put something good and bright into the world!

Poor Cody is like. "General, I am very fond of you but I'm having a million panic attacks at the same time because of the mind control, and also Vader is under the impression that we're in love and I need to be your stud? I wasn't aware you could have children--" "I can't. Or at least, I couldn't, but Anakin is... creative." "...what."

I don't want to actually objectify Cody in the narrative past the point that Obi-Wan himself is, because nnnnngh racism and clone stuff, so I'm going to say Cody was in love with Obi-Wan, and would have been okay with at least discussing the whole baby schtick if not for the absolutely horrible circumstances.

Like if the war had ended normally, and Obi-Wan had expressed a desire to retire, unlikely as that was, then Cody may have suggested a dinner, and they could have gotten married and then eventually adoption...

(Cody had a lot of fantasies he didn’t let himself think about too hard.)

But no. It's this... weird Vader-inspired bullshit.

I'm just so invested in Vader trying to help but making things legitimately a million times worse.

He wants to help :) Oh god, he wants to help.

Why aren't people more appreciative of how hard I'm helping them? - the Anakin Skywalker story

With less time to stew and also getting handed what he wants, Vader could absolutely flip on a dime the second he saw Luke being protected, and go from “I hate you” to remembering that Obi-Wan said he loved him, and now he must keep Obi-Wan safe out of debt and he just... he’s playing house.

Vader throws Obi-Wan a baby shower after the pregnancy is confirmed. Bail is invited, because Obi-Wan doesn't have a lot of friends still alive. Vader decides Bail is top of the Obi-Wan’s Friends List.

This is the first time they've seen each other in two years. Obi-Wan is heavily pregnant despite Bail knowing full well he didn't have the plumbing for that before the Empire rose. Cody is there and emotionally exhausted but more lucid than most troopers. Luke is running up to Leia because New Friend!!!

....there may be MORE of the 212th and 501st at the baby shower, with “kill all Jedi” orders revoked, of course. But it will keep the children safe!! And Cody and Obi-Wan can see their surviving friends!!

Cody: I'd be much happier to see my surviving troopers if they didn't all still have chips in their heads. Obi-Wan: I feel much the same. Vader: [404 error]

Bail and his family might be there at blaster point, but aren't you happy to see them, Obi-Wan??

Obi-Wan's endless trauma is honestly somewhat curtailed by the incessant need to facepalm at Vader’s bullshit

Obi-Wan and Cody both outwardly have a very "there are much worse people I could be stuck with in this situation but obviously I wish I'd had a choice, no hard feelings" attitude at each other.

Internally, Cody is suffering because this is NOT how he wanted his crush to be realized, and Obi-Wan is just suffering, period.

Cody: How did he even choose which of us ends up pregnant? Obi-Wan: He thinks I need to be protected, and that he needs to keep me safe. Cody: ...he does realize that you're better at-- Obi-Wan: Cody, he's completely lost it. No! He doesn't realize!

I feel like over the course of the year or two this plot unravels towards Palpatine getting murder-deposed and Anakin getting locked down, part of the driving force to Vader not being Vader anymore is that Luke actually really loves Uncle Obi and always starts fussing and going "Ben's sad" whenever Vader dismisses what Obi-Wan wants in favor of what Vader thinks Obi-Wan wants, and Vader can't deny his child anything.

Luke cries because Palpatine Feels Wrong like, once or twice, and Anakin goes “oh, okay, assassination time.”

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Luke Skywalker #Commander Cody #Codywan #Darth Vader #Bail Organa #star wars #dubcon #situational dubcon #nonconsensual surgery #medical abuse tw #forced pregnancy tw #nonconsensual body modification #Vader Tries to Help AU #Phoenix Posts #dead dove do not read #dead dove

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wellsayhelloaagin · 3 years

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Till Forever Falls Apart

Summary: A mission goes terribly wrong and the consequences are fatal.

Pairing: Wanda x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N:. italics at the start are a flashback, in case anyone gets confused.

The inspiration came for this story after reading Liar by @peabrain112 so you should definitely go read it because it's an incredible story that haunts me.

The sunlight streaming in through the window woke you that morning.

You open one eye, squinting at the bright light before promptly closing it again. You roll over in an attempt to block it out and go back to sleep but instead encounter a warm body on the other side of the bed.

You smile to yourself and move closer to Wanda, slinging an arm around her waist and burying your face in her hair. You’re just about to fall back to sleep when you hear her let out a soft groan, her body shifting in your arms. You open your eyes again, your Y/E/C eyes meeting the green orbs of your girlfriend.

She groans again, burying her head in your chest and you chuckle lightly at her antics. Neither of you would consider yourselves morning people, but Wanda hated them far more than you did. You glance at the clock on your bedside table, registering the time.

You press a light kiss to the top of her head and you feel her sigh softly. “Time to get up sleeping beauty,” you whisper softly in her ear.

“Five more minutes,” she whines, pulling her head up to look at you, an adorable pout on her lips.

“No can do darling,” you say, quickly kissing her bottom lip, her pout melting away under your lips, “We have to be down at the briefing room in half an hour.”

She pouts again and once again buries her head in your chest, tangling her legs with yours under the blankets.

You close your eyes and bask in the moment for a few more minutes, thinking about some of the memories you shared with the woman in your arms.

You had been dating Wanda for a few years now, and you were positive that she was the person you would spend the rest of your life with. When you first met you had instantly found her attractive. Her wide green eyes and charming smile drew you in instantly. But the more you got to know her, the deeper the attraction became. You quickly became friends, spending all your spare time together.

You became a formidable team and the two of you were constantly assigned on missions together. You worked so well together, each of you anticipating the other’s needs and you had a 100% success rate on missions you shared.

You danced around your feelings for Wanda for months before you finally built up the courage to ask her out. You were worried about ruining the friendship you had with her, preferring to have her in your life as a friend than not at all, and you weren’t entirely sure she felt the same.

She had been surprised by your request. She had been harbouring feelings for you as well, but never dreamed that you would feel the same. She quickly accepted, and the two of you went on your first date.

It was a complete disaster. You had organised a romantic picnic on the roof, with a projector set up where you could watch old sitcoms with Wanda under the stars. Except nothing went according to plan. First, some of the food you prepared went missing from the fridge (you later found out that Thor had been visiting and didn’t realise that you sticking a post-it note with your name on it on the food meant that he couldn’t eat it), then when you attempted to turn the projector on you ended up breaking the circuit for the electricity on the roof, sending sparks flying from the powerpoint. When you went to go back inside, you found that the door had closed behind you, locking the two of you on the roof. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the clouds opened up and it began to rain.

You had looked over at Wanda, tears forming in your eyes at how the night had turned out. You just wanted to spend time with her and show her how much you cared but everything had gone wrong.

Wanda noticed your tears and wordlessly took your hand, leading you into the middle of the open space of the roof. She guided your hands to her waist, hers wrapping around your shoulders, and she began to rock slowly back and forth. You caught on quickly and began to sway with her, humming a tune under your breath. The two of you danced in the rain for a few more minutes, the stars your only source of light. You remember thinking how beautiful she looked at that moment, her damp hair sticking to her face and a soft smile on her lips. When she began leaning towards you, you met her halfway and your lips met in a soft kiss. You knew then that you loved her, that she was the one for you.

You open your eyes again, staring at the ceiling of your shared bedroom. After that first night, your relationship with Wanda continued to grow stronger. She was the one thing in your life you could count on, she knew you better than you knew yourself. The two of you were each other’s best friend, and she made your life complete.

You glanced at the clock again and saw that you only had twenty-five minutes before you needed to be downstairs, so you poked Wanda in the shoulder lightly.

“C’mon babe, we need to get up,” you say, holding back a yawn.

Wanda just shakes her head and buries further into your chest. You huff out a breath and try and think of a way to extract yourself from her iron grip around your waist.

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by wet kisses being trailed along your neck, your stomach instantly clenching. You close your eyes and savour the sensation as Wanda’s lips travel down your neck, inching closer to the tops of your breasts that are exposed by your sleep top. Her hands trail up your sides and you shiver at the sensation.

Before she can reach her destination and distract you completely, you come to your senses. With a frustrated groan, you halt the movement of her hands and she looks up at you with a frown on her face.

“Waaaaaanda,” you growl out at her playfully, “We don’t have time for this. I need to shower and I need coffee before I deal with Rogers this morning.”

She huffs at you, her eyes narrowing before she rolls off you and onto her back beside you.

“Fine,” she relents, sounding very much like a toddler who just had their favourite toy taken away.

You sit up slowly, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. You stand up and walk over to your adjoining bathroom, pausing in the doorway to look back at your girlfriend.

She’s also out of the bed now, and as you look at her she stretches her arms above her head, her shirt rising up and exposing her stomach. You feel your resolve weaken as you take in her sleep rumpled hair and exposed neck. Surely you could survive without coffee today?

“Wanda?” you call out to her, and she turns to face you. “Maybe we can be late, just this once,” you say as you turn and walk into the bathroom, already shedding your shirt.

There’s a wicked glint in her eye as she follows you quickly into the bathroom.

You’re impressed that you’re only two minutes late to the briefing. You wonder if anyone would even notice you were late, forgetting about Steves incessant need for punctuality.

You feel his glare on you as you walk into the briefing room, your hand in Wandas as she walks beside you, both of you sporting damp hair from the shower and matching grins. The two of you take a seat at the end of the table, and you try to ignore the knowing look Natasha gives you.

“Ok now that we’re all here,” Steve begins, sending a pointed look your way, “I’ll let you all know what’s going on.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and hear a soft giggle escape Wanda’s lips. You turn to her and make a face, which causes her to laugh louder.

Steve clears his throat deliberately, looking at the two of you again. You smile innocently up at him, unable to feel guilty at interrupting his meeting when Wanda is smiling at you the way she is.

“Alright,” he begins again, keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re done interrupting. You turn your attention to him, knowing that whatever he’s about to say is important. You do take your job seriously after all. “We intercepted a coded message from Hydra yesterday. They have a warehouse a few states over full of weapons that they’re looking to move tonight. We don’t know where they’re moving it to so we only have one shot to intercept these weapons.”

The team all begins to ask questions about the mission, and Steve goes over everyone’s roles. You’ve been partnered up with Wanda, tasked with finding the Hydra agents inside the warehouse and taking them out. Once all the finer details have been worked out the team leaves to go get ready. The light airy feeling you had from this morning is now replaced with a fierce determination.

As you and Wanda return to your room to get ready, you notice how quiet she is. It’s not unusual for her to be lost in her thoughts before a mission, but something about the way she’s avoiding your gaze fills you with worry.

“Hey,” you say softly to her, and she looks over at you. The look in her eyes makes your heart leap to your throat. “Are you ok?”

She blows out a breath before answering you. “Yeah, I just have this really bad feeling about today that I can’t shake.”

You walk over to her and wrap your arms around her shoulders, she leans into you, relishing in the comfort you provide.

“We’ll be fine,” you try to reassure her, but she pulls back to look into your eyes.

“You can’t promise that,” she whispers, her eyes full of fear and apprehension.

“Ok you’re right, I can’t,” you begin, moving your hands to cup her cheeks, “But I can promise that I’ll do everything I can to make sure that we both walk out of today.” You lean down and place a gentle kiss against her lips.

“And besides,” you continue after you pull away, “I don’t feel like breaking our streak of successful missions just yet. I don’t want to mess up perfection.” Your joke has the desired effect, and Wanda smiles up at you.

“You’re such a dork,” she says, pushing your shoulder lightly.

You clutch your hand to your chest in mock outrage, and she laughs at your theatrics.

“I may be a dork, but you’re the one who loves me anyway,” you reply, your arms wrapping around her waist as she rolls her eyes at you.

“Yep, silly me,” she teases before leaning in to join your lips once more.

An hour later you’re sitting on the quinjet, looking over the blueprints for the warehouse for what felt like the hundredth time. You wanted to make sure you’ve memorised every single room, you didn’t want to give the Hydra agents any chance to get away. Natasha pours over the blueprints with you, she was entering through the opposite side of the building to you, tasked with extracting any files from their databases before they could erase them.

The rest of the team were sitting quietly throughout the aircraft, each one doing a final check of their equipment. You could see Wanda out of the corner of your eye, summoning red balls of energy in her hand, getting warmed up for the action.

“Well I think we have it all covered,” Natasha said, rolling up the blueprints. “As long as there aren’t any hidden rooms that aren’t on the blueprints this should be a fairly straightforward mission.”

You nod at her before walking over to sit with Wanda. As you sit beside her, the energy from her hands disappears, her eyes changing from glowing red to back to green. You reach down and grab her hand, warm from using her powers, and bring it to your lips, placing a soft kiss against her palm.

“Ok everyone, we’re about five miles out from the warehouse,” Steve said, standing in the middle of the space. The jet begins to lower to the ground, landing in a field surrounded by trees. You all stand and form a huddle around Steve, a tradition that was started a long time ago.

“Stay safe out there, make sure you look after your partner, and stay focused on the mission. If everything goes to plan we’ll be taking a lot of weapons out of Hydra’s hands tonight.” As Steve spoke, you gripped Wanda’s hand tightly, and she offered you a reassuring squeeze.

As you always did at the end of the huddle, the team ended up in one large group hug before parting. It really was one big dysfunctional family, and you knew that no matter what, the team all loved one another.

The plan was to travel by foot to the warehouse, wanting to keep the element of surprise. While Tony had installed a stealth function on the quinjet, no one wanted to take the chance of alerting Hydra to your arrival before the ambush started. One of the pilots was going to stay on board, and when you breached the facility they would fly the jet closer for extraction.

You said your goodbyes to the team before you all parted ways, heading in different directions to your starting locations.

You didn’t talk much to Wanda as you walked with her, still going over the blueprints in your head and preparing for what lied ahead. Her hand was steady in yours though, and every now and then you would catch each other’s eye and smile softly.

The comms crackle to life every so often with the team stating they are in position and waiting for Steve’s signal. You can’t help but notice the way Wanda tenses every time someone starts to speak. You frown as you realise she’s still feeling uneasy after your conversation earlier.

When you reach your position, hidden in the loading dock of the warehouse, you press the button of your own comms device before speaking. “All set Cap, awaiting orders.”

“Roger that,” you hear in your ear as he responds to your message.

You check your watch and notice that there’s still a while to wait before the action is scheduled to start. It was decided that waiting for nightfall was the best option, everyone agreeing that the cover of darkness would benefit the team.

The sun is beginning to set, casting an orange glow over the whole area. You look over at Wanda and once again find yourself captivated by her beauty.

She’s looking away from you and you study her profile in the dying light. The curve of her nose; the light dusting of freckles across her cheeks; the delicate column of her neck, which was one of your favourite places to get lost in; the way her soft lips were turned up ever so lightly in a gentle smile. You once again find yourself overwhelmed with your love for her.

Wanda glances over at you and catches you staring, her nose scrunching up and her eyes twinkling with amusement. “What?” she questions when you continue to stare at her, “Do I have something on my face?” She brings her hand up to brush at her cheek, smiling over at you.

“Marry me?” you blurt out, and Wanda’s eyes go wide, her hand frozen on her cheek.

“What?” she chokes out after a moment.

“Uh, I mean. Shit, not like that. I just, I didn’t mean,” you stutter out as your brain tries to catch up to your mouth. “Ughhh,” you growl out frustratedly, burying your head in your hands.

You huff out a frustrated breath and curse your lack of filter. You slowly drag your hands down your face and chance a look at Wanda. She’s still frozen in shock, her green eyes still staring at you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “Forget I said anything.”

You watch as her face falls, her brows furrowing as a frown graces her features. “So you didn’t mean it?” She asks you.

You take a breath to try and compose yourself before you reply. “I mean, it’s not that I didn’t mean it you know? It’s just that it’s way too soon, isn’t it? I mean we’ve only been dating for two years. Yeah, we’ve known each other longer than that, but does that count? And yea every time I think of my future, I picture the two of us together. But I honestly hadn’t given it too much thought. I was just standing there and you looked so beautiful, I mean you always do, but with the sun setting you were just glowing and all I could think about was how much I love you, and how lucky I am to call you mine. But you deserve a grand proposal, with like flowers and a string quartet and fairy lights or something. It should be special you know and thought out. I mean I don’t even have a ring for crying out loud. And you deserve more than a half-formed thought blurted out right before the start of a mission because I’m an idiot who doesn’t have a filter.” You started pacing as you ranted at her, missing the amusement on her face. You stop and turn to face her, a blush on your cheeks as you once again realise you just spewed out your thoughts to her without thinking.

She just cocks an eyebrow at you before responding. “You about done yet?” She asks her tone light and teasing.

“I think so,” you quip back, nodding at her. “But I-” you try to continue before she cuts you off.

“Zip it, it’s my turn to talk now.” she levels you with a stare, and you stop mid-sentence, making a show of zipping up your lips. She laughs lightly, before taking a step toward you, grabbing both your hands in hers.

“Y/N, these past two years have been the best years of my life. You make me happier than I can ever remember feeling. With the Avengers, I found a family. But with you, I found a home. When I picture my future I see you in it as well, you’re it for me. There’s no one else I could ever want more. So sure, some people may say it’s too soon, but screw them. I love you, and you love me. It should be that simple.” She squeezes your hands lightly, and you feel tears swimming in your eyes.

“So, what are you saying?” you ask, unsure if you’re reading into her words too much.

“I’m saying yes,” she whispers, before cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips together.

The kiss is chaste and sweet. When Wanda pulls back you can see tears trailing down her cheeks. Your own tears of happiness have begun to fall, and you feel as though your smile will split your face in half.

You gaze at your girlfriend, no wait fiance, and she returns your stare, her eyes shining with love. You feel your heart soar as you begin to think of how you get to spend forever with Wanda by your side.

The comms crackling to life bring you both back to reality. “One minute until breach,” You hear Steve say.

You drop Wanda’s hands, placing one last quick kiss on her lips, before the two of you crouch down and creep over to the door at the edge of the loading dock.

“30 seconds,” Steves’s voice breaks the silence again, and you draw your gun from its holster. You see Wanda summoning wisps of energy in her hands, her eyes shining a deep red.

You square your shoulders, tense and ready to fight. You know what you have to do. You’re good at your job. You were determined to make it out of this mission alive. You glance over at Wanda, knowing that you needed to make it out alive for her. You had your whole future ahead of you, and you wanted to spend it with her.

“Standby in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…”

The mission started off exactly as planned. Once Wanda had blasted open the back door of the warehouse, the two of you methodically made your way down the corridors. Hydra agents had tried to stop you, but the two of you were a well-oiled machine.

You fired rounds off, hitting your targets every time. Wanda used her powers to fling assailants out of the way. You cleared room after room, making your way to the basement where you knew the weapons were being held.

You could hear through the comms that Steve had already made it to the weapons, his route clear of enemies. Natasha had already made it through their firewall and was in the process of downloading their encrypted files. The rest of the team were having similar successes. Everything was going according to plan.

You made your way to the top of the basement stairs, Wanda right behind you. You descend quickly, meeting Steve and other members of the team in the well-lit area. Natasha informed you that she had checked the security cameras and it looked as though all of the Hydra agents were taken care of.

Wanda and Steve had begun to move the weapons, using their enhanced abilities to their advantage. The rest of you walked along with them, keeping an eye out for any rouge agents lurking around corners.

The quinjet was quickly loaded and you all began congratulating each other on another successful mission. S.H.I.E.L.D was minutes away, ready to take the Hydra agents into custody. Natasha had finished downloading the files and was making her way back through the warehouse to the aircraft with Sam in tow.

“Hang on,” you hear Steve call out behind you, where he had been counting the boxes of weapons, “I think we’re one short.”

You look over to the captain and see his brow furrowed as he counts again. You jog over to him, and he turns to face you. “We must have left a box behind somewhere.” He frowns, unsure how the whole team could have missed something as important as this.

“Don’t stress Cap, Wanda and I will run back in to grab it.” You clap a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

“Just be careful Y/N,” he says, tone serious “Even one box of explosives in the hands of Hydra is dangerous.” You nod at him before making your way over to Wanda.

“There’s a box unaccounted for,” you tell her quietly, “I said we’d go back for it.”

She quickly begins to follow you back to the warehouse, and the two of you waste no time making it back to the basement. You search around the empty area, not finding anything.

“You sure there’s one missing Rogers?” you say into the comms, growing frustrated with the search.

“Positive,” he replies, and you trust him, so you continue to look.

“Maybe it’s not down here,” Wanda suggests, and you agree. You decide to search the rooms one by one to see if it was hidden somewhere else.

“We may need some help,” you call into the comms, “we’re going to need to search of the entire warehouse, it’s definitely not down here.”

“Copy that,” you hear Natasha reply, “We’re on our way back in.”

You begin to climb the stairs with Wanda in front of you, looking down at your feet so you don’t trip. As you ascend, you notice the corner of a wooden crate peeking out between two of the stairs.

You halt your movements, calling out to Wanda to grab her attention. “I think it’s hidden under the stairs there,” you say pointing at the crate.

Wanda motions you to move out of the way, using her powers to lift the box carefully. It begins to float through the air towards the two of you.

Just as the box reaches the bottom of the stairs, you notice a shadow cross the doorway. You look up expecting to see a member of your team, but instead, you’re met with the face of a Hydra agent, a dagger in his hands, the blade glinting in the light.

In the second it takes for you to call out to warn Wanda, he has already thrown his weapon. You feel it lodge in your abdomen, a sharp pain blooming from the site. You’ve already raised your gun and fired off a round, the bullet hitting him in the chest as he falls to the floor.

The commotion causes Wanda to lose focus, and she drops the crate to the ground. There is a second of quiet before the unstable explosive inside detonates, sending the two of you flying. The stairs you were standing on collapse into a pile of debris and you feel yourself hit the hard concrete floor, the force of the impact driving the knife further into your body. You grunt out in pain, as the dust settles in the air around you.

You can hear Wanda’s cries of pain nearby, and you try to call out to her, but your breaths are coming out in short gasps. The pain from the stab wound is radiating through your chest, and your vision starts to blur.

“What happened, we heard an explosion?” You hear Natashas voice in your ear, breathless as if she were running.

With the little energy you could muster you raise your hand toward your ear to reply, “Basement,” you manage to choke out.

“Is everyone ok?” You hear Sam this time, the rushing of wind accompanying his voice leading you to believe he was flying toward you.

“No,” you groan out, the pain intensifying. You suspect that you have some broken ribs with the effort it’s taking to breathe.

“Y/N?” you hear Wanda calling out, her voice desperate. The dust is clearing now and you can see her frantically searching for you in the rubble.

Her eyes find you and she immediately runs over, falling to her knees beside you. Tears fill her eyes as she notices the knife in your side and the way your chest is rising and falling with shallow breaths.

“Hang in there baby,” She whimpers, as her tears begin to fall, “Help is on the way.”

You cry out in agony, the pain intensifying with every passing second as your adrenaline starts to wane. Wanda lifts her hand from the floor, intending to reach out and smooth your hair back from your forehead in an attempt to comfort you. Instead, she gazes at it in horror, her hand covered in a warm red liquid that she quickly realises is your blood. She can feel it seeping through her pants as she kneels beside you.

She lets out a choked sob before raising her hand to her ear, and you hear her panicked voice through the comms. “You need to hurry, Y/N, she’s been stabbed. There’s blood everywhere and oh god, please just hurry.”

“We’ll be there in a minute, hang in there Y/N,” You hear Steve reply, his voice steady and even.

You look up at Wanda, frowning when you notice the gash above her left eyebrow. Her eyes are looking at you, full of fear and panic. Tears are streaming silently down her face, her bottom lip trembling. Even at this moment, you still find yourself captivated by her beauty.

“Wanda,” you say, your voice strained as you struggle to draw a breath, “I love you so much.”

You see realisation dawn on her face and she starts to shake her head back and forth, clenching her eyes shut. “Stop,” she whispers, “Not like this.”

You draw in another shaky breath, determined to say your final goodbye before it’s too late. You can feel the shock setting in. The pain is starting to fade now, your thoughts becoming a cloudy haze as you struggle to stay awake.

“I love you, and I’m so glad I got to meet you,” you continue, each word rasped out between stuttered breaths. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I am so thankful I got to call you mine”

“No, Y/N,” she cuts in, grasping your hand in hers, “You can’t die. Not like this, not now. Help is coming, you have to hang on for me baby. Please, can you hang on for me?”

“I’m so c-cold,” you stutter out, your body trembling, your eyes beginning to close.

“Y/N, look at me. Don’t close your eyes, stay with me,” Wanda is gripping your face between her hands as she pleads with you. You strain to keep your eyes locked on hers, your eyelids feeling heavy.

“That’s it, Y/N/N, just a little longer,” she smiles down at you. “Help will get here, and you’ll be ok. Then we can get married and live a long and happy life together. You just need to hold on a little longer, can you do that for me?”

You try to reply, but you can feel your energy fading fast, so instead, you nod slightly. Wanda notices and bends down to press a soft kiss against your forehead, her lips warm against your cool skin.

You hear a flurry of movement nearby as the team rushes into the room. The voices all begin to blur together as Wanda fills them in on what happened. You look up at her and her eyes still haven’t left yours.

Suddenly you’re being lifted into Sam’s arms, the pain returning as he takes off, rushing to get you to the hospital before it’s too late. You close your eyes now, no longer able to fight the darkness that drags you in.

Your last thought before you pass out from the blood loss is of Wanda.

The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the incessant beeping of a machine nearby. It lulls you from your peaceful slumber, and as you slowly wake up you begin to remember the events of the day. They flash before your closed eyes in quick succession.

The explosion, the pain, the knife being thrown at you, fighting the Hydra agents, Wanda crying over your body, Wanda smiling at you, Wanda accepting your proposal.

Your eyes snap open and you regret it almost immediately. The bright lights above your bed burn into them, and you start to bring your arm up to block the fluorescent light. Regret number two; the sudden movement of your arm jostles your body and you feel pain shoot across your chest. You groan out loud and hear the beeping of the monitor pick up its pace.

This attracts the attention of Wanda, who is by your side in an instant. “You’re awake,” she breathes out, and the smile on her face is so wide it’s almost comical.

“How long was I out?” you question, your voice raspy. You realise how dry your throat feels, and look around for something to drink.

As if sensing your discomfort, Wanda grabs a cup from your bedside table, filling it with cool water from the jug resting there. She places a straw in the cup and brings it to your lips, and you greedily gulp down the cool liquid, the scratchiness of your throat dissipating immediately.

“Better?” she asks, quirking her brow. You hum in agreement. “A few hours,” she says, answering your earlier question, “We got here about seven hours ago and they took you straight to surgery. You’ve been in recovery for about three hours now.”

You nod, the action causing your vision to blur. You close your eyes again and grimace at the way your whole body feels as though you’ve been hit by a truck.

Wanda notices you tense and grabs your hand in hers gently. “Are you in pain?” she asks quietly and you nod again, a small whimper escaping your lips. “I’ll go grab the nurse,” she says quickly, kissing the back of your hand before carefully placing it back on the bed and rushing out of the room.

Half an hour later, after the doctor had checked you over and the increase in your morphine had started to take effect, you were sitting up in bed. Wanda sat cross-legged on the edge of your bed, her hands playing with yours as they rested in her lap.

“So what happened?” you asked her, her hands stilling momentarily. “The last thing I really remember is Sam lifting me up.”

She takes a deep breath before replying, “Well he flew right out of the warehouse and straight here. The doctors had already been called and alerted of what was going on so they were ready when you arrived. By the time the rest of us made it here, you were already in surgery.”

She laces her fingers with yours, her thumb stroking the back of your hand. “It was touch and go for a while there, but they managed to repair the damage from the stab wound. You have three broken ribs and a lot of bruises but that’s it. You’re so lucky.”

“I don’t feel lucky,” you try and joke, “Looks like I’ve got a lot of bed rest ahead of me and you know how bored I’m going to be.”

Wanda looks up at you, her eyes swimming with tears. “God I was so scared Y/N,” she whispers. A sob escapes her then as the tears begin to fall. You pull her towards you, and she melts into your touch, head resting on your chest as she cries. You wrap her in your arms and hold her tight, your hand gently stroking the hair on the back of her head.

“Hey, shhh, I’m fine now,” you try to soothe her. “I’ll be ok.” You press a kiss to the top of her head.

“I didn’t think you were going to make it,” she confesses, pulling back to look into your eyes. “There was so much blood, and then you were saying goodbye and I thought that was it.” She closes her eyes as she speaks, screwing them tightly shut as if to shut out the painful memories.

“Well, I couldn’t leave you yet. We have a wedding to plan after all,” you say, your tone light and teasing in an effort to break up the tension of the room. Wanda chuckles lightly and wipes the tears from her face.

“Next time I have a bad feeling, we stay in bed. Deal?” she asks, although her tone leaves no room for argument. You just nod at her and she laughs, leaning down to place a short but passionate kiss against your lips.

“What about you,” you say, and she looks at you with confusion. “How are you feeling?” you clarify, gesturing to the bandage on her forehead, obscuring the cut there.

“Oh,” she says, raising her hand to touch the bandage like she had forgotten it was there. “I hit my head when I fell, it’s not that bad though. I didn’t even need stitches. Besides a headache that won’t go away, I’m fine.” she shrugs as she finishes before a sly grin takes over her face. “So about this wedding…?”

The two of you spend the next hour discussing the plans for your wedding. You both agree that you don’t want anything big and lavish, preferring instead to have something small and intimate with the people closest to you. You decide on the roof of the compound to hold the ceremony, a callback to the location of your first date.

All the details fall into place easily and you find yourself growing excited at the thought of being able to call Wanda your wife. An interesting turn of events considering she’s only been my fiance for a day, you think to yourself.

“Ok, so now the big question,” you ask as you lean against Wanda, who has joined you in the bed. Your legs are tangled under the blankets, her arm is around you as you rest against her chest. “When do we want to get married?”

“I’ve always liked the idea of a fall wedding,” she replies, her hand absentmindedly tracing patterns along your back, “How about September?”

“Sounds perfect,” you say, “Only fourteen more months until I get to be Y/N Y/L/N-Maximoff.”

“Actually, I meant this coming September,” she confesses quietly, and you sit up to look at her properly.

“You’re serious?” you ask, studying her face.

She sits up too, taking your hands into hers.

“Y/N, I almost lost you today. I don’t want to waste any more time. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so why wait? You’re my forever, so let’s start forever as soon as possible.” She looks at you tenderly and you can’t help but lean into her and press your lips to hers.

The kiss is slow and languid, full of love and promises. When you pull away, you rest your foreheads together, both of you smiling.

“Ok, let’s do it,” you whisper, your breath fanning across her face, “let’s get married in September.”

Wanda squeals and hugs you lightly, careful of your injuries.

“Well now that’s all worked out,” she declared, moving up to stand beside your bed, “I’m going to see if I can get a nurse to give me something for this damn headache.”

She bends down to kiss you lightly, “Back in a minute,” she murmurs against your lips.

“Mmmmk, love you,” you hummed as she pulled back.

“Love you too,” she called out over her shoulder as she walked toward the door. You smile and settle down into the bed, closing your eyes and relishing in the content feeling. You’re not sure you can remember a time you were this happy.

Wanda’s gasp of pain made you look up, your heart dropping as you saw her clutch her head and fall to the floor. Her body began to convulse as you jump out of bed, wires tearing from the machines and setting off alarms. You reach her side, ignoring the pain in your body, and kneel beside her. Her eyes have rolled into the back of her head and you feel helpless as her body slowly stops moving.

“Wanda, hey, wake up!” you cry out, clutching her shoulders tightly. “Help!” you yell out, screaming desperately over and over again, hoping someone would hear you.

Suddenly the door opens and the room is flooded with nurses and doctors. You feel arms lift you away from Wanda and back towards your bed, but you don’t pay them any attention, your eyes glued to her prone form on the floor. There is a flurry of movement as they examine her before she’s lifted onto a stretcher and wheeled away. You pray for her to be ok, but your prayers aren’t answered.

Later the doctors will sit you down and explain what happened. You hear the words intracranial hematoma and we did everything we could, but all you can register is the overwhelming pain radiating inside of you. Wanda was gone, and you now had to find a way to go on living without her. You had promised each other your forevers, you just didn’t think that forever would fall apart so soon.

Taglist: @olsensnpm (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist)

#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda mcu #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda angst #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #s writes stuff #kate if you find this no you didn't

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

aunt flo

summary: your monthly friend decides to visit you while staying over at steve’s.

word count: 1.5k

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: periods (so blood as well), awkward situations

a/n: this is definitely inspired by the *ahem* cycle that is currently plaguing me. it also hasn’t been thoroughly edited as this was the first time in a while that i’d written something, and i wanted to share it with you all as soon as possible! i hope you enjoy <3

Sleeping over at Steve’s apartment was never a bad experience for you. He seemed to always be completely prepared for what the night would entail, whether it be a plethora of snacks, or your favorite scent of lotion.

However, when you woke up in what felt like a pool of your own blood, saying you were alarmed was a bit of an understatement. You mentally cursed at yourself for not realizing ahead of time that your cycle was set to start any time that week, and the fact that you’d bled all over your boyfriends sheets.

You attempted to slip out of Steve’s grasp and out of bed to assess the damage done in both your underwear, and on the bed. Once you were finally standing on the floor and gawking at the red spot in bed, you rubbed your forehead exasperatedly. While it wasn’t as bad as you’d expected, it certainly wasn’t good. The quarter sized blood stain seemed to be glaring back to you, and you decided to glare back at it before heading into the en-suite.

Before plopping yourself down on the toilet, you searched through cupboard upon cupboard for some sort of period product. Behind the mirror: aftershave, Advil, bandaids, a random bar of soap, nothing you could use. Under the sink: Epsom salt, your favorite body wash, an extra bottle of shampoo, but not a tampon in sight. Above the toilet: a few rolls of toilet paper, yet nothing even resembling a pad.

Seeing as Steve seemed pretty prepared for anything related to you, you were more than a bit surprised that he hadn’t considered that you were a menstruating human. You huffed as you sat down on the toilet, then assessed the damage control you’d need to do. First and foremost, you needed something to protect the rest of Steve’s apartment from your uterine lining. After you figured that out, you desperately needed to get that stain out of your boyfriend's sheets before he’d notice.

Maybe you could order some pads from a grocery store to his apartment. That seemed like a safe bet, but Steve would probably become concerned if he realized you’d been in the bathroom for 45 minutes. Perhaps you could just leave without a word to Steve. But that raises the issue of a random blood stain, and possibly, an upset Steve.

“Think, Y/N, think,” you muttered to yourself. You attempted to brainstorm more options for yourself, but ultimately ended up dozing off, and waking up to the soft rapping against the bathroom door, along with the sound of Steve’s voice.

“Sweetheart, everything okay in there? You’ve been in there for a while, and I saw some blood on the bed. Did you hurt yourself?”

You mentally cursed at yourself, at least now you’d only have to worry about obtaining a pad, and not addressing the mess on the bed.

“Oh yeah, I’m completely fine. Actually, I should probably head home,” you attempted to sound convincing, but didn’t exactly hit the mark.

“Are you sure? I thought we were gonna get brunch together this morning.”

You could’ve sworn you heard the frown in Steve’s voice. “Oh, uh, I’m not super hungry right now.”

“Okay, that’s fine. But about that blood, what happened? Are you alright?” He questioned.

“I’m fine, Steve.”

“Did the headboard scratch you? Did I sleep fight you or something? Did you hit your leg on the nightstand again?”

“Jesus Steve,” you scoffed a bit at the overload of questions. “I just started my period. And you have nothing I can use here, so I need to go home. That’s why there’s blood in your bed, and that’s why I’ve been in here all morning.”

“Doll, you should’ve told me! I’ll go get you something, okay?” He opened the door just a crack, and blew you a kiss. “Just stay right where you are. I’ll be back quicker than you can say period. There’s medicine behind the mirror, and I can grab you my heating pad before I go. Maybe taking a shower would help t-“

“Steve,” you giggled. “That’s plenty. Now go get my shit so I can stop bleeding all over the place.”

“Got it. I love you,” he smiled warmly at you before closing the door softly, and heading out.

—

Steve basically sprinted to his nearest convenience store, getting lost in the feminine hygiene section, then finding himself completely at loss with what he was supposed to buy. There were just too many options. He considered calling you to ask what you need, but he didn’t want to bother you more than necessary. Plus, you could be standing in the shower right now, and what if you heard your phone ringing, tried to get out of the shower to answer, and slipped? The thought of you hurting yourself made Steve shudder.

He ended up settling on three different varieties of pads and tampons. If you didn’t need them, he could always donate them to a local shelter. He then stopped by the candy aisle to grab you some dark chocolates (he’d heard in passing that it was good for menstruating women), along with a package of panties that looked like they could be your size, before hopping in line at a register.

In the midst of Steve’s menstruation mania, he failed to notice a random customer snapping a photo of him with the over abundance of women’s hygiene products. He was much more busy with checking out and getting back to you as fast as humanly possible.

——

Once Steve made it back to his apartment, he found you still in the bathroom, surrounded by a light mist of fog from the shower, and clad in an oversized sweatshirt with a faded SHIELD logo.

“I didn’t know what to get you, so I got you everything,” Steve blushed at his own unpreparedness, then passed you the bags of period products. “I’m gonna go change the sheets. When you’re ready, just meet me in bed, okay?” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before leaving the bathroom, letting you handle your business.

——

A breakfast-in-bed and movie marathon later, you were still cuddled up in Steve’s bed, his massive body giving you an extra level of warmth that was soothing your cramps like nothing you’d ever witnessed before. You were probably more comfortable than you’d ever been. Except for the incessant vibrating of your phone on the bedside table.

You’d finally reached out for it, and were pretty shocked to see all of the messages you’d received. You opened the first message from one of your closest friends, and your eyebrows raised as you read it.

LMAO read this right now bitch

enews.com/caps-pad-problem

Curiosity got the best of you, so you opened up the article.

#Padgate?

If you've been anywhere on the internet in the last few hours, you’ve certainly seen the word “padgate” trending. The reason why is more interesting than you’d think.

Early this morning, Captain America, America’s sweetheart was spotted buying out the entirety of the feminine hygiene section of his local convenience store.

From this, a huge question rises. Is he donating? There’s certainly enough pads and tampons to keep an army of women satisfied for a year. Is he seeing someone? She must be some lucky gal. Either way, when we thought this man couldn’t get any more lovable- he did!

You blushed while reading the article, not exactly sure how to feel. After letting it simmer in your brain for a second, you began to giggle, deciding that more than anything, it was pretty damn funny. You texted a quick message back to your friend who’d sent the article, then finally began to speak to Steve, who was giving you a bit of a confused look at your giggling.

“Steve, you goof. Someone took a picture of you buying all of that period stuff, and now the internet has gone wild.”

“What? Let me see,” he reached for your phone, and you gladly passed it to him. He skimmed over the article, then furrowed his brows. “Tony and the PR department are never going to let me live this down,” he groaned.

“Don’t be so dramatic, maybe something good will come out of this!” You chided, giving him a mischievous grin.

——

As it turns out, the word good is subjective.

It’d been about a month post-padgate, and you’d been strolling through the store with Steve, working on getting your groceries for the week.

As you entered the wellness aisle, you looked at the shelves containing menstrual products, knowing that you needed to restock sooner than later.

When you first saw what you saw, you had to do a complete double take. Your eyes must’ve been deceiving you.

A Tampax box stared back at you, a logo with a shield containing a star clearly defined on the box, along with the text ‘Captain America approved!’

“No way,” you actually laughed out loud at the sight. “Steve!” you grabbed onto his sleeve, and pulled him in the direction of the box so he could see what you were seeing.

“No way!” He reprised. “Oh my God. I’m really never gonna live this down, am I?”

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america #captain america x you #avengers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #hey i wrote that lol

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jrmangasummaries · 3 years

Text

JR Act 52: Initial Thoughts

Here it is folks -- the chapter that fans were waiting for years and years to happen. It was a triumphant moment that was also a bittersweet time for @penicillinshock when they made the tough call to drop Junjou Romantica after a five-year run. I have nothing but the deepest of respect for its members and their devotion was my inspiration to write the manga summaries and basically become the JR Wiki’s caretaker after years of neglect. Time for my thoughts!

Oh wow. That page where Misaki and Usagi (and Suzuki-san) are holding hands and staring at the reader with immense seriousness really sets the tone for this chapter. It made my heart stop for a second. Such intensity.

I am really digging Usagi’s look where his dress shirt is pulled over his pants for a change. It’s a refreshing difference. I really like the role he’s playing. He’s giving Misaki his space to tell Takahiro but he is on standby at a moment’s notice.

I almost got teary-eyed and Manami’s text message. I know we stan Kaoruko but Manami is another JR ~QUEEN~.

Why has it taken this long for Misaki to refer to Usagi as a “comfort rabbit”?! Oh my gosh, that is so endearing.

Ugasi’s pep talk = couple goals.

GASP.

*jaw drops*

Oh my...

I was actually thinking it would be poor timing if Takahiro were to see this kiss play out with his own eyes but it looks like that’s exactly how Nakamura intended it. I actually thought it was a bit out of character for Misaki to not pull back and chastise Usagi about how they can’t be doing that in public but on the other hand, it shows just how much he needed Usagi’s love in that very moment.

Not going to lie but Takahiro coldly turning his back on Usagi definitely broke my heart.

I could only imagine what Takahiro is going through. I’m really glad that he didn’t leave Misaki in the dust as well. Going to the park from Misaki’s childhood is a nice touch.

FINALLY. I can enjoy the panel where Misaki tells Takahiro that he loves Usagi-san without spoiler warnings ringing in my head. It’s about time! Well, one spoiler down and one more to go.

Misaki seriously asking if he’s being selfish cuts deep. This is the guy who is *always* putting others’ feelings before his own and now that he has something he wants to keep desperately, he is questioning if it’s okay or not. Sweet, sweet boy.

I think it’s really great that Takahiro apologized for forcing his ideals on Misaki. It’s about time!

I bet Takahiro yelling at Misaki for him to stop with his incessant apologizing must have felt like a punch in the stomach because that’s how I felt. That and the fact that he is undecided about whether or not he will support the relationship.

In the sexy times scene, Misaki FINALLY says that it feels good without any of the usual prompting. We are as shocked as Usagi at this moment. The extra tight hugging was also so very sweet.

Seeing Kaoruko is always a delight. I love her unwavering faith that everything will work out fine.

Oh, the call back to the marbles! I really liked that a lot and it makes us think about how far we’ve come. And maybe it’s a reminder that we could all use a Season 4?

Now that I have finished reading this monumental chapter in the series, I can’t help but feel so sad. I can only imagine how much Misaki cried for his eyes to still be puffy the next morning. Usagi waiting for Misaki when he got off the subway was exactly what we all needed. Next week I will read Act 53 and I will be caught up with the fandom as far as the main Romantica storyline goes. Then in just two Sentiment acts later, I can start diving into JR Tumblrs! Considering that I entered the JR Tumblr community in March, it’s about time.

#Junjou Romantica #Act 52 #First time thoughts from a first time reader

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empoleon · 3 years

Text

funny how it works out, innit?

• rated t, one shot, 4310 words

• also available to read here

Leon hates when Raihan’s alarm would sound off in the morning for two reasons. The first is plainly obvious—it means he has to get up and out of the warmth that so pleasantly held him all night long.

He shuts his eyes a bit tighter while silently hoping the annoying beeps coming from Rotom would somehow turn into some sort of white noise. That idea sounded lovely in his mind.

There’s a bit of movement to the left of him and an arm is suddenly grabbing at his bare thigh.

“Lee,” Raihan’s voice is thick with sleep, “time to get up. Joggin’ this morning, remember?”

Ah, there it is. That is Leon’s second reason for hating the alarm. Whoever thought of going for morning runs at 5AM was a real bastard.

Rotom stops its incessant beeping and Leon hopes, no, prays, that maybe this will finally be the morning where Raihan changes his mind and they both sleep in instead.

The covers move slightly and the next thing Leon feels is Raihan’s lips brushing up against his shoulder.

“Do you need some motivation?” he asks Leon quietly. He moves his lips up near Leon’s neck, and then his jawline, pausing for a moment. “You need to shave.”

“I feel so inspired, thank you,” Leon mutters, but there’s no bite in his tone.

Raihan pecks him on the cheek and grins. “You’ll feel even better after our run. I’ll be in the shower.”

Leon sighs and nods his head. “Alright, I’m getting up.”

Leon definitely did need to shave, much to his own surprise. He swears that some nights it’s as though his facial hair goes through some strange growth cycle.

He carefully brings the razor down his jawline and wipes away any excess shaving cream that is left over.

“Oi, Rotom!”

Raihan’s voice almost causes Leon to nick himself. “You don’t need to yell! I’m in here too, y’know.”

“Ah, sorry,” his voice sounds muffled momentarily and then he peeks his head out from around the shower curtain. “Hi.”

Leon spares him a glance before turning his attention back to his reflection in the mirror, trying his hardest not to smile.

“So…” Raihan begins, “can you—”

“Can I do you a favor?” Leon cuts him off, angling the razor down his chin.

He shouldn’t look at Raihan. He really, really, shouldn’t, not because of the obvious oh he’s naked reasoning that yes, does make sense, but rather Leon shouldn’t because if he does, he will end up laughing.

“You know me so well, love,” Raihan smiles at him. “Could you grab Rotom for me?”

Leon wipes off the remaining shaving cream off of his face with a cloth and sets it on the sink countertop. He finally dares to look over at Raihan and breaks into a fit of laughter.

“You’re awful, you know?” he says between laughs. “Absolutely awful.”

Raihan tries to pout at him, but he only succeeds in looking silly—being wet, naked, and wearing a shower cap with Goomy patterns on it isn’t doing him any favors.

Leon concedes and quickly steps out of the bathroom and back into their bedroom, locating Raihan’s Rotom Phone near his side of the bed.

The passcode has always been easy to guess, even if Raihan rarely ever updates it. Leon has Rotom pull up the music app before he walks back to the bathroom. He swings the door open and clears his throat loudly.

“I see the crystal raindrops fall, and the beauty of it all is when the sun comes shining through.”

Raihan yells something at him, probably something along the lines of questioning what he’s doing, but Leon pays no mind to it.

“To make those rainbows in my mind, when I think of you sometime and I wanna spend some time with you.”

“Stop,” Raihan sticks his arm out from the shower and tries to grab at Leon, but he misses. “You’re off-key!”

The chorus of the song begins to play and Leon starts to dance—he only manages to thrust his hips one time before Raihan steals the phone out of his hands.

“Out,” he demands, a grin on his face. “Get out and go get dressed, you tosser.”

Leon complies and blows him a kiss. “See you in a few!”

“Do you want to stay home or come with me?” Leon asks Charizard.

It’s funny when he asks that—Raihan’s apartment in Hammerlocke isn’t exactly their home, but with the amount of time Leon spends here, it may as well be.

He gently scratches at Charizard’s chin, moving his hands up towards his horns. The Pokémon makes a quiet, pleased grunt in reply.

“Yes? You’ll have to stay in your ball though,” Leon reminds him. Charizard nods his head.

“Alright then,” Leon smiles at him.

Raihan rounds the corner and steps into the room, tugging a shirt over his head. “I can’t find my gloves—”

“I got ’em,” Leon holds up the thin pair in his hands. “We’re still getting coffee afterwards, right?”

“Ta, love,” Raihan takes the gloves from him. “Yeah, we are. Big guy coming with us?” he glances at Charizard.

“Yep, just him,” Leon nodded his head and held up a Poké Ball, returning Charizard for now.

They both head towards the apartment door and step outside, Leon first and Raihan after him, making sure to lock the door behind them.

“Arceus, why do I agree to do this with you?” Leon shivered and jumped up and down, trying to warm himself up. It was closer to six in the morning now, but that definitely didn’t make it any warmer outside.

“Because it’s good for you,” Raihan reminds him as he turns around. “Also, you love me, so,” he shrugs and smiles.

Leon pauses to look at Raihan, regarding him silently while he fixes his locs.

I really do love you, he thinks. It brings a smile to his face.

People always wave and say hello whenever they go on their morning runs. It’s nice.

“Look, it’s the Chairman!”

“And Raihan, too! How cool!”

Leon is often surprised at how many citizens are actually out doing things at this hour—children, too.

There’s a small cafe next to the Pokémon Center they stopped at. Leon is leaning against the brick outside, catching his breath while Raihan orders them coffee. He cups his hands together and blows on them, trying to warm them up.

A group of young boys nearby are battling Pokémon out in the small courtyard that is adjacent to the cafe. Leon watches them with a small smile.

“Piping hot,” Raihan exits the cafe carrying two medium-sized plastic cups. “’ere you go,” he hands one of them off to Leon, who takes it graciously.

“Do you know what that’s all about?” Leon takes a sip out of his cup and motions across the way to a small hanging advertisement on one of Hammerlocke’s many skyscrapers.

Raihan leans forward and tries to make out the fine print on the sign. “Uh… something about weddings, I think. It’s this new thing the city’s been promoting since spring is around the corner.”

“Weddings? In Hammerlocke?” Leon raises an eyebrow. “You’d think Wyndon would be more of a hotspot for such a thing.”

“Oi, watch it,” Raihan nudges him with an elbow. “You and I both know it’s quite lovely here all year round.”

“Hey, Mr. Raihan?”

One of the young boys who was battling runs over towards them before Leon has a chance to come up with a rebuttal.

“’ello, chap!” Raihan squats down to greet him. “Something the matter?”

The boy glances between the two of them and back at his friend before he speaks up. “We were wonderin’ if you could give us some pointers.”

Leon chuckles. “Popular this morning, aren’t we?”

“Oh, shush,” Raihan elbows him once again before turning his attention to the boy. “I’d be happy to, but are you sure you wouldn’t rather have the former Champion give you some tips?”

“We want him to watch!” the boy exclaimed. “Please don’t go anywhere,” he tells Leon earnestly, to which he laughs again.

“I’ll be right here then,” he nods his head.

The young boy leads Raihan over towards his friend while Leon watches them with amusement. About a month or so ago, it probably would have made him feel a bit bad about himself if any young Pokémon trainers weren’t interested in… who he was.

Everything is different now though, of course. He’s happy to no longer be the one always in the spotlight.

A group of Rookidee fly overhead and their chirps blend together with the sound of Raihan’s voice and the two young trainers laughing.

“Mr. Chairman, we will need you to go over this and sign it sometime this week,” a league staff member hands Leon a small stack of documents.

“Alright, sure thing,” he flips through the papers briefly. “I don’t have any meetings scheduled for this evening, right?”

“No, sir.”

“Great, thank you—”

Leon’s Rotom Phone flies straight into his face and flashes its screen. “You have a new message, Leon!”

The league staff member excuses themself from the room and Leon sighs.

“Quite the entrance, Rotom, but didn’t we talk about this?” he frowns. “When I’m busy you can’t just fly in here at random, unless—”

“It is a message from Raihan!” Rotom tells him in its high-pitched voice.

That changes Leon’s demeanor immediately. “Oh.”

He ends up calling Raihan instead because he absolutely loathes texting the man.

“I don’t see anything… are you sure it was an explosion?”

Leon is staring out one of the glass panels in the Battle Tower, scanning the local area. His Rotom Phone is hovering beside him.

“I’m telling you, I heard some kind of loud bang,” Raihan’s voice says over the line. “I’m at the boutique right now, by the way. Can I use your discount?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Leon says absentmindedly. “Oh wait—I think I do see something.”

There’s a puff of smoke out in the horizon that is faintly tinged blue and purple. It’s hard to make it out for certain, but if Leon didn’t know any better, he would say it looks like—

“Leon? Are you there?” Raihan asks him after a moment.

“It’s a wedding ceremony,” Leon sounds breathless. “Wow, it’s beautiful.”

There are countless Butterfree and Pidove flying over the area from what he can see after the smoke begins to fade.

“—weather, really?”

Leon blinks and shakes his head. “Come again?”

“I said with this weather I’m surprised,” Raihan’s voice expresses his astonishment. “It tried to snow just the other day!”

“It sure is pretty, though,” Leon presses a hand up against the glass window. His breath fogs up the view for a second and he wipes at it with his sleeve. “I told you Wyndon is perfect for these kinds of events.”

“Yeah, yeah,” even without seeing it, Leon knows Raihan is rolling his eyes. “You’re still meeting me at the station once you’re done with your work, right?”

Leon chuckles and steps away from the window. “If you’ll still have me for dinner, yes.”

“Wouldn’t change that for the world, love,” Rahain tells him.

“Why do I have to be here with you again, Lee?” Hop trudges along behind his brother as they walk towards a local jeweler’s store. “It’s so early,” he whines.

“This place opens at nine,” Leon glances down at his wristwatch to check the time. 8:42 is displayed in a bright green color.

“That doesn’t answer my question, though,” Hop stops Leon from crossing the street and points to his left. “Wouldn’t Sonia be a more suitable friend to ask?”

Leon turns his head to glance down the street and frowns. He could have sworn they needed to cross here, but apparently he was wrong.

“No way could I ask Sonia to come with me,” he says after a moment. “She’d have a laugh at me, for sure.”

“And you think I won’t?” Hop grins at his older brother while they walk down the pavement.

“The difference is,” Leon pauses in front of the shop’s door once they reach it. “I can handle your jokes, little bro. I’ll never hear the end of this from Sonia once she finds out.”

“Do you need any help today, sir?”

Leon is about to speak up, but Hop beats him to it. “We’re good, thank you.”

After the clerk walks away, he turns towards Leon and shoots him a look. “You’re going to blow your cover if you speak to anyone!”

Leon winces and nods his head. “Alright, alright—I forgot, sorry.”

They’re the only two customers currently inside the quaint shop due to it being so early. Hop is dressed fairly normal, mostly because he had no idea where Leon was planning to bring him at such an early hour.

Leon, on the other hand, tried his best to look inconspicuous—he doesn’t need the media finding out about this yet. That apparently means donning his usual attire, fairly casual, including a snapback—yes, the picture perfect example of being discreet.

At least he opted to wear a pair of sunglasses.

“What do you think of this?” Leon points to a certain piece behind some glass. “It should match his eyes, yeah?”

“That is so corny, Lee,” Hop snickers. “You’re absolutely whipped.”

“Don’t start with me,” he tries to sound stern, but it’s extremely difficult for him to hide the smile that’s spreading across his face. It’s true.

Hop steps to the side of him and peers into the glass display.

“He’ll love it,” he says after a moment, and it helps to calm Leon’s budding nerves. “It’s perfect.”

Leon waits one whole week before he decides to give Raihan the present he bought for him. It’s been safely tucked away in a spot where no one would dare to look—Leon’s closet.

(which is actually raihan’s spare closet in his apartment, but leon has turned it into an endless hoard of snapbacks and joggers.)

He’s equal parts nervous and excited when he hears the door click open that evening and the familiar sound of Raihan setting his bag on the floor.

Leon slides into the hallway on his socks, excited. “Welcome home!”

In his head, he pictured Raihan coming home all cheery and bright, like he normally would. Unfortunately, that is not how this particular evening pans out.

Raihan looks… tired. Exhausted is probably a better word for it.

“You alright?” Leon walks over towards him and holds out his arms. Raihan eagerly leans into the welcoming embrace.

“Yeah, ’m just really knackered,” he sighs and presses his face into Leon’s shoulder. “Sonia had called and—”

“Sonia called?” Leon gently nudges him back and leads him into their living room. ��Why?”

“She’s been doing some research and me, being the nice bloke that I am—”

Leon pauses to consider this. “You are pretty nice.”

“I know,” Raihan grins as he sits down on the sofa. “Anyway, I told her I could poke around in the vault, see if there’d be anything of use.”

“And you ended up staying there for hours, right?” Leon knows him too well. Raihan is always the one offering to lend a hand if need be.

“I almost couldn’t get up after I realized how late it was getting,” he groans and flops back into the cushions. “Sitting hunched over for so bloody long was a mistake on my part.”

“Gotta take care of yourself, y’know,” Leon walks into the kitchen for a brief moment before poking his head back around the doorway. “Did you have supper already? If not, I could reheat you some leftovers.”

Raihan slowly rises up from the sofa and stretches. “Nah, I think I’m going to turn in for the night.”

Well this certainly isn’t part of Leon’s grand plan to give Raihan his present.

“Are you sure?” For some reason, Leon can’t bring himself to move out of the doorway in the kitchen. He should try to think of something to keep Raihan busy so he could—

“Yeah, I’m good,” he gives Leon a lopsided smile. “I’ll see you in a bit. Night.”

“Night,” Leon softly parrots it back to him. He watches quietly while Raihan leaves the room and ascends the stairs.

There’s always tomorrow, he tells himself. What’s one more day?

“Yeah,” Leon nods his head and pats his face, feeling more determined. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

It doesn’t take him long to turn off the lights in the kitchen and head upstairs himself, wondering if Raihan already made it into bed or if he decided to take a shower beforehand.

Leon can’t say he’s surprised when he steps into Raihan’s bedroom and finds the man curled up under the covers instead.

He stops by the edge of the bed and runs his hand along the outline of Raihan’s calf.

“Did you wash your face?” Leon murmurs the question. His fingers move up slowly towards the head of the bed and he rests his hand on Raihan’s shoulder.

“No,” is the sleepy reply he gets a second later. It partially sounds like a groan. “Didn’t think of it, actually.”

“That’s alright,” Leon’s hand moves towards Raihan’s cheek and caresses his skin. “Missing one day won’t hurt.”

“You coming to bed?” Raihan sticks his hand out from the covers and blindly tries to grab at Leon’s arm to pull him closer.

“Yep, budge over,” he proceeds to climb on top of Raihan and sprawls out across his body, which causes both men to start laughing.

Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

Leon thinks he made a mistake when he decided to do this in the morning. He forgot about his number one enemy—the bloody alarm.

He rolls over onto his back and yawns. The alarm ceases its beeping and Leon turns his head to look over at Raihan.

“Mornin’,” he says with a small smile.

Raihan’s voice is a bit muffled, but Leon is pretty certain he heard him say it back, and then there are arms wrapping around Leon’s waist.

“Are we going for a run today?” Leon asks him, assuming he already knows the answer. The bed is pleasantly comfortable this morning, but he’s not going to hold his breath on the chance that today might finally be one day they get to sleep in.

“No way,” Raihan buries his face into Leon’s shoulder and sighs. “I want to sleep.”

Leon blinks at him. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Alright,” he isn’t going to argue or ask why—he wants to enjoy this for as long as possible.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when he wakes up again, but he hears water running and music playing.

Leon rolls over to check the time—10:30. Not too late at least.

He sits up and stretches, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Raihan?”

“Yes?” his voice carries out from the bathroom, definitely sounding more cheerful than he did last night.

“Good morning!” Leon calls out. “Are you showering?”

Raihan pokes his head out the bathroom doorway. “Not yet, why? Need the loo?”

“Nah, just wanted to see your lovely face before you clean up,” he grins. “Don’t take too long, alright?”

“Mhm,” Raihan doesn’t sound convinced. He steps out of the bathroom and crosses his arms. “Are you going to sit there and wait until I’m done then?”

Leon nods his head solemnly. “Yep.”

An eyebrow is raised and a look is shared between the two men, but neither one of them says anything else. Raihan shrugs and returns to the bathroom, and Leon…

Leon decides to act. Quickly. Before he loses his nerve again.

He gets up from the bed and walks over to the closet, finding the gift he hid among his clothes. The store clerk had wrapped it in a small grey box with a ribbon on top. Nothing too flashy.

“Okay,” Leon whispers to himself. “Okay, I can do this. I’ll practice and—it’ll be fine, yeah.”

He paces back and forth in the bedroom for a few moments before he stops and takes a deep breath.

Kneeling down is easy, so he doesn’t have to practice that part. But what in the world is he going to say?

“Oi, Lee? D’you mind grabbing me a shirt?”

Raihan barely has one foot into their bedroom and he turns his head and sees Leon and more importantly, what Leon’s doing.

“Oh,” Leon’s brows raise up the second he remembers he’s still down on one knee.

“What are you… doing?” Raihan asks him slowly.

“Marry me?”

His voice cracks, and it is absolutely embarrassing the living hell out of Leon, but he did it. He feels proud of himself, in a way.

Raihan simply stares at him and says nothing at first. The shower head running in the bathroom is the only other noise that can be heard.

“Lee,” he swallows before continuing, “you want to do this right now?”

Leon nods his head energetically. “Yes.”

“I’m in my knickers,” Raihan gestures to himself and lets out a shaky laugh. “Seriously? You’re not having a laugh at me?”

“No,” Leon scrambles to stand up and reaches out to grab Raihan by his shoulders. “No, never. I promise. I love you.”

A flicker of emotion crosses Raihan’s features before he ends up wrapping his arms around Leon’s waist and pulls him into an embrace.

“You’re a complete knobhead, you know that?” Raihan buries his face into Leon’s shoulder. “I love you so much.”

“So is that a yes… or?” Leon is hesitant to ask.

Yes, yes,” Raihan nods his head. He pulls Leon back and smiles at him. “A thousand times yes.”

Leon grins up at him and carefully takes Raihan’s left hand into his own, slipping the ring onto his finger. It fits perfectly and now that Leon can see it on Raihan’s hand, he’s glad he picked the one with a thin stripe of cerulean.

He feels like he’s floating on an Altaria’s wings, knowing that he’s finally going to be marrying his best friend.

There’s this look on Raihan’s face though, and it’s gone within a second, but it’s as though he suddenly remembered something. Leon almost doesn’t catch it.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Promise me you won’t get upset?” Raihan bites his lip.

Leon immediately assumes the worst—this is a mistake, he doesn’t want to marry you—but he slowly nods his head and tries to prepare himself.

Raihan steps away for a moment and walks over towards his side of the bed, rummaging through the nightstand. He pulls out a small box that looks identical to the one Leon had.

“No,” Leon gasps, mouth agape with disbelief. “Bloody hell, you’re kidding right?”

“I wish I was,” Raihan sits down on the edge of the bed and holds out the box for Leon to take.

This box is dark blue in color and velvet—it feels very soft to Leon’s touch. When he opens it, he can’t help but laugh.

“This is beautiful,” he says after a moment of examining the silver ring. “How long have you had this hidden?”

Raihan counts with his fingers. “About two weeks, I think. Almost three. I was trying to find the right time to—well, you know—but I guess you beat me to it.”

Leon sits down next to him and hands the box back over. “You can still ask me if you want.”

He glances at Raihan to see him considering this.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” Leon says without any hesitation. “Please?”

Raihan gets up and moves himself into position in front of Leon. He looks into those amber eyes, takes a deep breath—and he starts to laugh instead.

“Oh, come off it!” Leon playfully shoves at him. “You need to say it!”

The laughter subsides as Raihan tries to compose himself again. He slowly takes one of Leon’s hands into his own and glances up at him.

“Will you marry me?”

Leon nods his head enthusiastically. “Yes,” and to the surprise of no one, his voice cracks a bit again.

Raihan slides the ring onto Leon’s finger with a steady hand, right before he’s tackled back onto the floor by his new fiancé.

“I love you so much,” Leon peppers Raihan’s face with kisses. “So very, very much.”

“So,” Raihan starts to say, “ceremony in Wyndon, after party in Hammerlocke?”

They’re having lunch at the Battle Café in Motostoke. It’s been approximately two days since they both proposed to each other.

Leon is fiddling with his ring, barely paying attention to a single word Raihan says when he nods his head.

“And honeymoon in… Postwick,” Raihan settles on saying, waiting for Leon’s actual reaction.

It works quite comically. Leon finally snaps his head up in horror. “No, absolutely not in Postwick. Are you mad?”

“Nope,” Raihan grins. “Just wondering when you’re going to stop staring at your hand. I know it’s pretty, but I am right here, you know.”

“So you’re saying I should be paying attention to you,” Leon bites back a smirk. He doesn’t phrase it as a question and states it as though it’s obvious.

(of course it is.)

Raihan nods his head. “Well, that would be nice.”

Leon holds out his hands and waits for Raihan to reach across the table and lace their fingers together.

“I love you,” he says with a warm smile, bringing Raihan’s hands up towards his lips. Kisses are pressed along his knuckles and Leon pauses once he reaches the silver band.

At least he took his eyes off of his own ring for a moment.

Raihan returns the gesture with a gentle squeeze. “I love you more. What about Alola?”

“Alola sounds perfect,” he agrees.

#pokemon #leon #raihan #truerivalshipping #fanfic #fic #texte #my writing #woohoo long time no post (kind of haha)#i lurk more on here now than i post anymore it seems #anyway hope y'all are doing alright o/#i haven't written much lately... this is something that i feel like i've been sitting on for MONTHS #but honestly who am i kidding i start fics and then they sit as wips for god knows how long dgkjsgsh #pretty sure my last fic i tagged it with some shit like 'too much dialogue' well guess what past me? u were absolutely right #these boys talk SO much my hands slipped and let a waterfall of talking take place #also the title i regret to admit is some lyric from some song that has nothing to do with the setting but well. can't pass up a lyric that #has the word 'innit' in it y'know? ok i'm done rambling i think peace and love

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1kook · 5 years

Text

skirt chasers

jjk x (f) reader

summary “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.” tags f2l, triple texting king kook, ncampus crush kook who is also the weird gamer boy, the skirt aspect is forgotten towards the end tbh, dumbassery is a disease and we are all affected by it, confessions SO CORNY it could be a 2005 teen romcom warnings smut in the form of: unprotected sex, use of mirrors, mostly heavy petting as foreplay I’m sorry, mentions of Jk’s furry ways as a gag kinda, like an unnecessary amount of swearing wc 7.8k

to make a long story short, i saw this nsfw gif and wrote this entire fic between 2 am and 6 am anyway i actually really like how this turned out!! lmk when u think

Part of the ideology behind the pleated skirt was in hopes that buying a new wardrobe would somehow help you rebrand your image around campus. Truthfully, it was kinda too late for that now; you’d been here going on three years, your friends and anyone with eyes could see that the style of clothing you leaned towards favored comfort over fashion. However, someone—it might’ve been Taehyung—had gone on a drunken spiel the other night concerning the importance of presenting oneself via fashion. It wasn’t aimed at you, but it certainly left you wondering.

Which is how you find yourself shivering to the bone now, lingering around the west quad as you wait for Jungkook to come out of an anatomy lab. He’s at that point in the semester where grades mean nothing and everything to him at the same time, so Namjoon’s commissioned you and your other pals to take turns babysitting him once a week to make sure he gets at least some assignments done.

You don’t know where any of you would be without Kim Namjoon.

Anyway, your legs are fucking cold and if this is what it takes to be known as the fashionably cute girl around campus, you’d rather choke. The imaginary sound of your bones rattling is cut off when Jungkook throws the door nearest you open, his big dopey smile engulfing his face the moment he sees you. He barely acknowledges the gaggle of students that follow after him, all calling out a chorus of goodbyes to him, because unlike you Jungkook was the cute, campus boy crush with his suave looks and comfortable fashion. God, if only you could pull off sweats and mustard-stained Venom shirts like him.

“Lets go,” you yawn, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of your long cardigan. Jungkook jogs over, slinging an arm around your shoulders and nearly knocking you into the emergency telephone you’d been brooding by. “You smell sterile again.”Jungkook grins.

“That’s because I was touching dead people again,” he informs you, too giddy for someone who’d probably fingered the fuck out of a gallbladder twenty minutes ago.

“Ew,” you whine, the sudden urge to shove Jungkook and his dead people germs away from you. He cackles in your face, and you wonder again how he single handedly enthralls half the campus population with a laugh like a seagull.

You’ve barely moved ten feet when Jungkook finally notices your vibrating body, and it’s only because you’re nearly convulsing with shivers at this point. “Woah, what are those,” he exclaims, eyes pointedly eyeing your legs.

You know your bare legs are a rare sight when Jungkook has to resolve to overused memes to refer to them.

“They’re my legs, and they’re fucking freezing,” you calmly reply.

Jungkook seems shocked for only a moment longer, and you almost think he’s gotten over it when he suddenly snorts and scares the shit out of you in the middle of the crosswalk. “Why the fuck are you wearing a skirt in this weather, you dinglehead?”

You shove him, and he stumbles over the curb, but you get the feeling he’d do that without you pushing him. Jungkook was clumsier than Namjoon on his bad days. “I’m trying to be fashionable, you hater,” you huff, not even bothering to say thank you when he pulls open the coffee shop door for you. “I shouldn’t have to explain myself to someone who doesn’t even wear the right size shirt.”

Like always, he’s one step ahead of you and hands the cashier his card before you can even reach for your wallet. Next time. “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.”

“For your information I bought this from H&M,” you retort, though you can’t hide the flush that warms your cheeks at his comment. “Also, what's the point of working out your hotbod if you’re just gonna hide it under shirts long enough to be a mini-dress, huh? Riddle me that, Jeon.”

You flinch when your bare thigh touches the cold seat of the booth, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Your skirt is mad short,” he points out, and you kick his shins.

You’ve already got a Google Doc open on your laptop from last night when you and Jimin had been going ham on a psych essay, but you also have a Fashion Nova cart on another window that’s just begging for you to check out.

“Short skirts are just a concept made by men with lingering eyes to demean and belittle women who don’t submit to their every want and need.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, and you watch him muffle a laugh into his palm as he gets his own work out. “Do you think I’m gonna pull the meninist card out on you and call you a slut or something?”

You fake gasp, eyes wide and shocked as you give him your best disappointed face. “Jeon, how could you? I expected better from you.”

This time he does laugh, a dorky sound unlike his witch cackle from earlier, and you finally let a smile slip. Jungkook was funny, too sweet and kind hearted for his own good. A little dumb, but most cute guys were. He’s one of those guys who thinks girls are nice to him out of their own free will, and not because they’re trying to bag the campus hottie.

“Seriously,” he says once he’s pulled his fat anatomical reference book out, stuffed to the brim with worn scientific essays he’d printed out, and pictures he’d taken at every single one of his visits to the cadaver lab. His voice is earnest and genuine when he speaks again. “You can wear whatever you want, I was just curious about the skirt ‘cause you normally wear things past the knee and elbow.”

When he puts it like that you kinda sound surprisingly conservative.

You shrug, tapping away at your computer as if the sight of you in anything other than what he said isn’t really weird. “Just thought I’d try something new. Why, does it look too weird?” Your voice suddenly feels meek, and you’re not sure if your cheeks are warm from the chill outside or from something else.

Jungkook shakes his head, coconut hair bouncing from side to side. “Nah, you look cute,” he says, and then, as if an afterthought, adds, “weirdly sexy, too. Like you belong in a Brazzers video?”

“What the fuck, Jungkook,” you groan, sinking your head into your palms.

“What! You asked for my opinion and I gave you it,” he defends, too casual for someone spewing their unwarranted porn knowledge at you. You urge him to do his homework, drink his coffee, anything besides embarrass you further.

He does, but you don’t miss the goofy way he glances under the table one more time.

The pleated skirt makes it’s return three weeks later, this time accompanied by her best friend, the sheer pantyhose.

“Oh, who’s this sexy schoolgirl?” Taehyung exclaims the moment you step into the diner. Your cheeks flush red when the family beside you send you and your friends a disapproving look.

“That’s what I said!” Jungkook says as he gets up to let you slide into the booth. He has this incessant need to be sitting at the end of the booth just in case nature calls in the middle of dinner and he can’t usher the rest of you out fast enough.

(It almost happened once, and the sight of Jungkook shoving Hoseok flat on his ass had been too funny to forget.)

“Wait a minute, is that why you stopped using EOS and started using the Dove shaving cream?” Chaeyoung interrogates from across you. “So you could show off your sexy model legs?”

“No, Dove is just cheaper,” you reply, trying to sound as aloof as possible but if anyone at this table knew you like the back of their hand, it was definitely Chaeyoung. “Why can’t you guys let me live my best life?”

Taehyung scoffs. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?” You snap back, but your level of sass can never seem to match his.

“We all know your ‘best life’ would be spent in those fuzzy Cookie Monster pajama pants and one of Kook’s big ass shirts,” he points out, and you hide behind your menu much to everyone’s amusement.

You whine, “why can’t you all just be supportive besties and tell me I look cute?”

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Chaeyoung assures you, gesturing for you to pass her the sugar for her coffee. “It’s just weird seeing your legs out. Almost weirder than if you randomly pulled your tits out right now.”

Behind her, you can see the same mom from the family glaring at you guys. You lower your head in shame.

“For the record, I’m team skirt, but I wouldn’t be opposed to the other,” Jungkook adds after being silent for so long. Taehyung fist bumps him as you slap your hand over your eyes. At this rate you’d rather just put a paper bag over your head.

“We’re sitting on the same side of the table, so you’re supposed to be on my side!” You groan, and Jungkook shrugs mid-milkshake sip.

“I am!” He splutters once he’s gulped down the thick substance. “I just said I was team skirt, did I not?” His scandalized pout twists into the same sneaky little smile he has whenever Taehyung has convinced him and Jimin to do something stupid. “But I’m also a man, and therefore, a skirt chaser,” he winks.

From the other side of the table Taehyung’s eyes twinkle. “Bro, your mind,” he says in awe. He reaches over to shake Jungkook’s hand as if he’s just presented the table with some riveting discovery in the medical field, and the fucker has the nerve to look smug about it too.

“You guys are so stupid,” Chaeyoung whispers right before the server sets her pancakes down.

“Hey, have you seen Joon’s book? He said he might’ve left it—oh, Jesus, fuck sorry,” Jungkook says before whirling around to face the wall.

You turn from your bent over position by your bed where you’d been rummaging around for a book you coulda sworn you stuffed there last week. Jungkook’s blazing cheeks don’t register with you until you realize your favorite skirt is draping over your rear, giving him a clear view of your dorky star-printed panties.

“Kook,” you stammer, quickly jumping to your feet and brushing your hands over your skirt. “H-How’d you get in?” You ask for lack of greeting.

“Um, uh,” Jungkook stutters, eyes laser focused on some point on your wall. “Chaeyoung let me in.”

“Oh,” you say, and then silence falls over the two of you.

Holy shit this was awkward.

Despite being friends for going on three years, you don’t ever remember there being any stale moments between you and Jungkook. You were the type of friends that just clicked, never having gone through that awkward phase before. But you’d also never seen each other in any state less than presentable. (Being drunk at parties did NOT count, and even then, you’ve always been pretty collected.)

To know that he’s seen your ass, covered or not, tilted your Golden Friendship with Jungkook scale extremely off center. Your fingers twiddle at your sides, not really sure if you should mention what just happened or… what?

He coughs, and you snap back to reality. “Um,” he drawls, still not looking at you but at the socks you’d thrown off the second you got home. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes, voice soft and earnest in that Jungkook™ way that made all the girls swoon. “I should’ve knocked before coming in all rude.” He finally gathers the balls to look you in the eye, and the dude looks like a kicked puppy.

“No,” you wave him off, hands fluttering in front of you because standing like some Macy’s holiday mannequin certainly isn’t making this situation any easier. “It’s okay, the skirt—y’know this wouldn’t happen if I just wore pants,” you say, tacking on a self-deprecating laugh. It’s your turn to look away in shame.

Jungkook jumps at your words. “The skirt’s cute!” He basically shouts and you flinch at the sudden increase in his tone. Then you’re both left looking at each other wide-eyed again as he scrambles to assure you it isn’t your fault. “I like it, and it makes your legs look really nice, so don’t-“ he stutters, as if realizing the meaning in his words, “don’t stop wearing it...” he trails off, cheeks rosy. Your mind goes blank.

“R-Really?” You stutter, surprised at his compliment. It’s not like Jungkook never complimented you—dude couldn’t go fifteen minutes without telling his friends how much he loved them—but for some reason it feels different now.

“Yeah,” he assures you. “Makes you look nice, and um. Pretty.”

“Jeon Jungkook telling me I look pretty? Someone call TigerBeat magazine,” you joke, trying to ease the tension somehow. Your chuckle sounds awfully robotic to your ears, but it makes Jungkook crack a smile and that’s all that matters.

“Shut up. You know I’m not friends with ugly people.”

“Wooow,” you laugh, real this time. “How noble of you,” you retort, and he gives you his best snobby expression possible.

“Ya, you’re welcome,” he teases, and then suddenly remembers what he came for in the first place. “Give me Joon’s planner, I know you’re holding it hostage.”

You roll your eyes, and point over to the notebook on your desk that’s absolutely overflowing with sticky notes and bookmarks. “As if I’d want his nerd diary ruining the good vibes in here.”

“These good vibes smell a lot like Bath and Body Works perfumes, you cheapskate,” Jungkook says as he snatches the book off the surface. He’s at the door again, narrowing you with another faux uppity look when he adds, “this is a Victoria’s Secret Bombshell household.”

“Bombshe—you don’t even live here!” You huff in laughter, ushering him down the hall to the front door. He’s half a foot out the door when he suddenly whirls around, making you take a step back in surprise.

“The stars are cute, but I prefer hearts.”

He slams the door shut behind him so fast, that you almost don’t catch the smirk tacked on at the end.

You were many things, but a liar was not one of them. You couldn’t lie to your parents when you were younger and wanted to sneak out, to your teacher when she asked where your homework was, or to your friends when they asked you who you liked. You couldn’t even lie to yourself.

You’ll admit it, there was a time your eyes had lingered a little longer on Jungkook. When you would spend moments tracing the slope of his jawline, and memorizing the twinkle in his eyes. He was devastatingly handsome, and you would be blind not to see it.

But that was before you became close friends—before game nights at Hoseok’s became a regular staple in your schedule, before your little makeshift picnics in the quad, before you all became Park Jimin’s dedicated fan club (it’s a rotating unit consisting of whoever’s able to go to Jimin’s showcases).

Those fantasies of kissing Jungkook and going on dates were stuffed to the back as you became pals. As you’ve mentioned a million times now, Jungkook was the campus dream boy. He was hardly the skirt chaser he made himself out to be, too sweet and romantic for his own good. Besides, there was no need to be when the skirts flocked to him.

He’d had flings, and even girlfriends, in the time you’ve known him, but he rarely mentioned them to his friends. And even though you pushed that teensy crush aside, you still wondered how Jungkook acted with girls he was interested in, if it was the same he treated you and Chaeyoung, or special on an intimate level a platonic friendship could never be.

It’s the middle of the night when you first get a glimpse.

[1:21 am] jk wyd

[1:21 am] you sleeping , u?

[1:22 am] jk same anyway I finally beat world 8 in super Mario bros

[1:25 am] you omg the 1 w dry bowser?? [1:26 am] you wait u said u wouldn’t play w/o me :/

[1:27 am] jk u suck at Luigi and u know it

[1:30 am] you fuck u [1:31 am] you ok but seriously what do u want I have a test tmrw morning and am pretending to be asleep

[1:32 am] jk damn ok can’t I just talk to my friend about my successes [1:33 am] jk but if u must know

[1:33 am] you I must

There’s a lull in messages for a while, and you decide you should finally actually go to sleep, dabbing some spot ointment onto your skin before hopping in bed. You turned off the overhead light long ago, so the only light illuminating you now is the lamp by your bedside. You tap your phone once again right as Jungkook sends another message.

[1:40 am] jk you looked really pretty today

Oh. Your entire body pauses for a moment to process the sudden message, cheeks slowly heating up. You roll your lips in to stop the squeal that threatens to rip itself out of your throat, scrambling for something to type. But it’s the first time he’s randomly thrown something like this on you, and your brain feels like that episode of Spongebob when everything’s on fire.

Before you can send the jumbled letters you’d convinced yourself was acceptable, your phone vibrates with another alert.

[1:42 am] jk I know its weird to say that but I gotta make sure someone told u at least once today

Your heart flutters at the explanation, and you have to slap a hand over your face to get rid of the goody smile that overtakes your features. This time, you’re a little less thrown off and quickly tap out a reply before he can say anything else.

[13:43 am] you thanks kook :) was it the red skirt lol

You’d been experimenting with different skirts lately, quickly growing bored of the black pleated skirt you’d originally worn. Your latest trip to the mall had you coming home with a variety of colors and styles, like the dark red denim one you’d worn today.

[1:45 am] jk no!!!! [1:45 am] jk maybe… [1:46 am] jk ok yes you looked gorgeous

The tiny letters blink back at you, and you set your phone down for a second to smile stupidly at your dark ceiling. You only let yourself wildly kick your legs around for five seconds because Chaeyoung was asleep next door.

[1:47 am] you haha well I’ll make sure to wear it again for u :)

It’s only after you’ve sent the message that the last two words have you stuffing your face into your pillow to hide your embarrassment. Girl, what the fuck!!!

Oh my god, he could’ve just been friendly and polite this whole time. Jimin had said the skirt looked cute on you as well, and you hadn’t responded like this. All it took was a few compliments from Jungkook to have you dopily acting like a clown for his affections.

Before you can scold yourself anymore, your phone vibrates and you have to sit up to retrieve it from where you’d tossed it across the bed.

[1:50 am] jk for me? I’m honored :) [1:51 am] jk anyway get some rest before ur exam!!! [1:51 am] jk night cutie

You squeal, and Chaeyoung kicks your shared wall.

You liked to clown Seokjin for being the president of his fraternity. He was already a stereotypical frat boy, so it wasn’t that hard anyway; he came from money, was ridiculously gorgeous, and played on your school’s soccer team. However, behind that facade he liked to put up, he, too, was infected by the dumbass disease.

“Wait, are those your legs?” He says the moment you step into his frat party. Normally, he wasn’t prone to the same stupid questions that regularly plagued Taehyung and Jungkook (sometimes Namjoon, but everyone had their weak moments), so you deduce that he probably had some alcohol in his system to openly be asking you such a question.

“Yes, now give me whatever’s in that cup,” you brush off, not bothering to stick around to watch him not-so-subtly grope Chaeyoung as she enters behind you. You trust him enough to hand you a drink that hasn’t been roofied, but you’re also aware that Jin drinks like he’s trying to die three times over. One sip has your face scrunching up at the sour bitterness of it all.

There’s a loud cackle of a laugh that you’d recognize anywhere, and you turn to find Jungkook leaning against the staircase banister looking like a wet dream. “Someone lost on their way to Weenie Hut Jr?” he sneers, cheeks a nice rosy color. You flick his forehead.

You don’t bother gracing him with a reply, instead shuffling over so you’re stood side by side observing the party before you. Yoongi’s here, which is an even weirder sight than your legs being out, so you wonder why no one is talking about that. But then you see the way he’s trailing after Seokjin’s cat, Jalapeño, and realize he’s only here to make sure no one hurts her (she’s more important than anyone else here). You honor his service with another sip of Jin’s whatever the fuck mix.

“Wow, getting braver every day, huh?” Jungkook teases after giving you a very intense once over. He’s referring to the skirt you’re wearing, a little black circle skirt that flows around you like the first one you’d worn a couple months ago. Call it a tribute to the one that started it all. You’ve definitely experimented with lengths a little more, the one you’re wearing now brushing just barely below your ass. Appropriate for the frat party, but definitely not for your theology elective.

You hum, stepping aside as a couple makes their way up the stairs. You’re tempted to go tattle on them to Seokjin, but decide against it when you feel Jungkook’s fingers brush against your thigh.

He grins at the surprised little gasp you let out. “Pretty,” he chuckles, deep and seductive in a way you’ve never seen before. You were used to giggly Jungkook, and Jungkook who laughs like the stepmom from Cinderella, but you’d never seen this one before, the Jungkook who looked and laughed like he was straight out of a Calvin Klein campaign.

You giggle like a teenager at his compliment, unsure of what else to do so you settle on chugging Jin’s death drink. You only get a good three gulps in before Jungkook’s tugging the plastic cup away from you and setting it down on the nearest flat surface. “Don’t get all drunk on me now,” he jokes, eyes the teensiest bit glassy. He doesn’t look drunk, and he’s certainly not acting drunk. He might be a little tipsy, you think, because a completely sober Jungkook would never have the balls to tug you closer by the waist like this one does.

Your hands fall flat on his chest, warm beneath the material of his shirt. Not one of his super baggy ones today, but still a bit loose where it could hug his build. “What happened to the little red one? You said you’d wear it for me…” he questions, lips playfully pushing out into a pout.

You struggle to meet his gaze, focusing on the mole beneath his lip instead. “I, um, haven’t got around to washing it,” you stutter, absentmindedly shifting your weight from side to side.

“Really?” Jungkook presses, sounding like he doesn’t believe you at all. After a moment in which he ducks down to catch your gaze, he seems to accept. “That’s fine. This one’s cuter anyway.”

His words are emphasized by his fingers, tracing along the edge of your skirt while purposefully making sure to graze your skin. You shiver, unconsciously arching your chest into him. It’s only afterwards that you realize when Jungkook smirks in triumph. “Easy access too,” he murmurs, and your heart leaps in your chest.

“Jeon,” you whisper, hyper aware of all the people in this house right now. You’re standing at a point where everyone walks by, and the idea of Jungkook groping you in front of these people, some of which are friends, seems horrifying. “People can see.”

Jungkook’s Cheshire smile grows even wider, and you muffle a yelp when his hand slips beneath your skirt to grope your ass. “Since when were you shy?” He says, voice soft and lilting over the hum of whatever music is playing now. “Weren’t shy when you had your ass in the air that one day in your room.”

Your cheeks burn at the memory, but your core surges with a newfound heat at his wandering hands and teasing words. “Remember?”

You nod, tucking your head against his neck in a last ditch effort to hide your embarrassment. From here, your senses are bombarded with Jungkook and only Jungkook.

You feel him let out a long sigh. “Been thinking about you since,” he admits. “Nah, even before that. When you wore my shirt that one day after our balloon fight in the west quad.”

Your heart thunders at his sudden confession. The balloon fight in question had been a little over a year ago, a rallying effort from your friend group to cheer Taehyung up after an exam. After soaking each other to the bone with water guns and balloons, Jungkook had let you wear one of his stupidly big shirts home. So you’d ditched your usual jeans and shirt, wearing his shirt like a dress all the way home.

The fact Jungkook’s been thinking about you since then makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

“Every time you wear these little skirts, I think of that day. You, in my clothes, looking so soft and warm. Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me.”

You glance around, and your soul almost leaves your body when you make direct eye contact with Yoongi holding Jalapeño across the room. He gives you that Yoongi look, the whatever you’re doing is weird but I won’t say anything because I don’t care look, and that’s your signal to stumble your way upstairs before Seokjin can see you two and scold you.

You’re not sure who’s room you end up, just that it has one and a half bunk beds in it, so you don’t hesitate to push Jungkook down onto the half. He plops down like a little cherub, all sweet smiles until you see the way his pants strain at the crotch. Of fuck, this is happening, you think as you climb onto his lap.

His lips envelope yours the second you’re in his arms. You’re not usually one to give into those John Green cliches, but everything about being in Jungkook’s embrace feels so right. Like you belong there, or whatever.

He’s a good ass kisser, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Jungkook was good at everything he did—such was a known fact. But he still kisses you like he’s trying to prove something, like he wants you to melt into him, and he succeeds. His mouth moves against yours, tongue sneaking it’s way past your lips until it’s inside yours, and you’re swapping spit. His breath hot, but you imagine yours is as well because just making out with Jungkook has your body temperature hotter than the inside of a sauna.

“Jungkook,” you groan when he pulls away, desperate to feel his mouth on yours again. He smiles, lips slick and cherried as he drops his hands to your waist.

“‘M right here,” he assures you, pressing a few pecks to your mouth before trailing his lips down your neck, deliciously licking and kissing every inch. You let out a choked moan, and you can feel his smile press against your skin. “Cute,” he croons.

“More,” you beg, fingers curling themselves into his hair. It’s gonna way longer these last few months, the front pieces almost brushing the tip of his nose. He looks sexy as fuck.

“At least let me stretch you out first,” he teases, face too cute for someone about to fuck your brains out. You huff in annoyance, snatching his hand away from its path to your panties.

“No,” you whine, and then shuffle forward to grind your center onto him. Jungkook groans, jaw tight as he watches you. “Just fuck me, Jungkook.”

His eyes roll back at a particular roll of your hips. “I-It’ll hurt, though,” he tries to reason, but his hands are already hiking up the back of your skirt.

“Make it hurt,” you mumble, so caught up in the moment that your eyes bulge out when he suddenly lifts you to your feet. “What’s wrong?” You huff in dismay, lower lip trembling at the thought of him changing his mind. He lets out an airy chuckle.

“Turn around for me, doll,” he softly demands, and not a single inch of you feels the need to go against him.

You’re met with the sight of your own expression, staring back at you from the closet’s mirrored sliding doors. It’s a little dark in the room, most of the light coming from a desk lamp on the other side of the room that had been on when you first broke in with Jungkook.

“So pretty,” Jungkook praises from behind you, and you watch in the glass as two firm hands snake around your waist, slowly easing you back into his lap. In the seconds you were distracted by yourself, he’d unbuckled the front of his jeans, the cotton fabric of his boxers brushing against your ass. “Gonna fuck yourself on my cock, baby?”

You nod, unsure of what to do with your hands. You needn’t worry any longer, your body naturally guiding you through the motions, until one hand grabs his thigh and the other grapples for the bedside drawer next to you. His fingers trace around your waist, hiking your skirt up to—only to reveal a pair of white undies with red hearts. Jungkook’s chuckle against your ear makes you clench your legs together. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this would happen,” he murmurs, and you can’t take your eyes off the mirror as you watch his fingers trace over your covered mound. “Did you?” He asks, breath fanning over your ear.

“N-no,” you gasp, hips jumping when he presses a lone finger to where your clit would be had your girly panties not obstructed the way. You’re embarrassingly wet just from kissing Jungkook, and his playful fingers only worsen your state. “Please hurry, Kook,” you plead, grinding back against his engorged cock.

“You sure?” He checks, and your bobble head nods have him muffling more laughter into your shoulder. “If you say so, baby.”

He lifts you up just the slightest bit to tug his cock out of its confines, and this is the only instance where you wish you weren’t looking at the mirror. His fingers dance along your skin again, tugging your panties to the side.

Screw it, just do it, you say to yourself before sinking down on his cock in one go. “Oh fuck,” you cry, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder at the sudden intrusion.

“Holy shit,” he sighs into your hair, one hand circling to the front of your waist, while the other creeps upwards to rub at where he knows your nipple is. If he were to pull your shirt and bra away, he’d see how rock hard your nipples were right now. “Relax for me, doll, I promise it’ll feel better if you relax.”

You nod, eyes squeezed shut as your body slowly assimilated to the feeling of being stuffed full. God, he felt good inside you. Fit every crevice of you pussy like he was made for you. “Jungkook,” you moan, and he hums in response. “You feel so f-fuckin good,” you babble, swiveling your hips much to both your pleasures. “Can feel you everywhere.”

He presses a kiss to your scalp. “Can you move for me, baby?” He questions, dropping his hands to your waist before slowly pushing you up so you’re not flopped against him like a rag doll. “Wanna see you bounce on my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nod eagerly, desperate to show Jungkook how good you ride dick. You muster up the strength to sit up, one hand right around his thigh again, but this time the other one clamps down over his hand on your waist. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, giving your hips a tight squeeze.

It’s like you thrive off Jungkook’s compliments, because soon enough you’re riding him like your life depends on it.

It’s a rhythm of pushing yourself over and over, thighs tense from the effort it takes to pull yourself away from his cock until only his tip breaches you, before dropping back down. You can’t entirely take the credit, because Jungkook’s arms are there, lifting you up before pushing you back down. Truthfully, he’s probably still doing most of the work in fucking you with the way you see his arms flexing in the mirror.

“Lemme hear you, doll,” Jungkook huffs, and you don’t hesitate to moan for him. It feels overwhelmingly good, his hands tight on your waist as they move you up and down, the material of your skirt bunched up between his fingers. What you’d give to feel them inside you some day, a day in which you’re not dying to feel his cock inside of you. “That’s it,” he grunts, and doesn’t even complain when your legs begin slowing down.

He picks up the slack for you, thrusting his hips up into you like you’re just some toy for him to use and discard. But the soft praises slipping past his lips assure you you are anything but. “F-fuck,” you whine, forcing yourself above and beyond as you begin to feel that familiar coil of heat grow tighter in your abdomen. “Your cock’s s-so f-fucking big!” You cry, and one look at the mirror let’s you know you look as stupid and fucked-out as you sound.

“Really?” Jungkook smirks, drilling into you like his life depends on it. There’s an embarrassingly growing stain on the front of your panties that you catch sight of in the mirror, and part of you wants to clench your legs shut so he doesn’t see. But it seems to do it for Jungkook, and he starts rambling about that next. “Look at you. Fuck. You’re ruining your cute little panties. Absolutely fucking soaking them with hot wet you are. I get you that wet, doll?”

You squeal at a particular thrust of his hips, feeling his cock so deep in you that your eyes momentarily go cross eyed. “Yes, yes!” You agree, bouncing yourself with a renewed vigor.

The answers please Jungkook, and he rolls forward until he’s pressing his tip faintly against your cervix, and your body damn near leaves your soul. “O-oh fuck!” You scream, body turning into jelly as your orgasm has you spurting hot cum into your panties and over his cock.

“Pretty even when you come,” Jungkook huffs, hips rocking up into yours for a few more minutes until he eventually comes when you roll your hips backwards. “Holy fucking shit,” he moans, finally releasing your skirt from the death grip he had on it.

You watch it flutter back into place around you, and you almost look like two platonic friends sitting together, but then Jungkook shifts inside you and your body convulses from the oversensitivity.

“Wait, you and Jeon finally fucked?!” Chaeyoung exclaims halfway through breakfast, which she had so lovingly prepared at three in the afternoon. “When? Is that why you made us get waxed last week?”

“No!” You flush, shoving another forkful of burnt scrambled eggs into your mouth. “We waxed our coochies before that, but I didn’t know we were gonna fuck.”

Chaeyoung blinks. She’s stupid pretty even with avacado spread on her cheek. “So do you have like a seventh sense on when to get your kitty trimmed?”

“What? No,” You scoff. “Seventh? What’s my sixth?”

“Knowing the exact moment Taehyung’s gonna throw up at a party.”

You accept. “Anyway, we just… I don’t know. It was at Seokjin’s third birthday bash last weekend.” She nods like she remembers anything besides sucking face with him all night. “We were talking and then suddenly we were upstairs and...” you trail off, glancing at your fake collection of succulents lining the kitchen window.

“Was he good?” She interrogates.

You flop back onto your chair dramatically. “Chae. He was so good,” you whine, and she slaps your arm in enthusiasm. “He made me ride him facing a mirror,” you spill.

Chaeyoung squeals. “Bitch!! Here I was thinking Jeon Jungkook was the poster boy of vanilla sex,” she pauses. “I mean, still pretty vanilla compared to the time Seokjin stuck it in my—“

You gag and she rolls her eyes. “Have you been talking since?”

This is the part where things get awkward, and Chaeyoung immediately senses as much. “Oh, honey,” she frowns, eyes furrowed in worry.

“He walked me home,” you mumble, toying with the tablecloth ends. “Kissed me on the doorstep and all, but besides a few texts, I haven’t seen him around,” you lamely finish. It’s been a week.

“Ugh, men are trash,” she spits, turning in her seat to play with your hair. “I swear if I see him on campus I’ll rock his shit. My older brother used to practice WWE moves on me, I could easily smash him through a table.”

“WWE wrestling is staged, Chae,” you point out. Chaeyoung was about ten thousand times more experienced when it came to men and their behaviors. She’s been played but also has played, so her reaction to you telling her about Jungkook is all you need to hear.

In all the scenarios you’ve ever had about Jungkook, him randomly ghosting you had never even been a possibility. The Jungkook from your imaginary universes either just dumped you, or awkwardly friendzoned you. But completely disappearing on you? Now that was some John Greene shit.

You’ve gone long periods of time without seeing him, like your freshman year you saw him one time in March. But even then he’d made sure to keep in contact with you, randomly blowing up your phone with Cup Pong and 8Ball requests.

He sent you two texts this whole week, and both of them had been to cancel your homework sessions.

You almost couldn’t believe you were living this life. The men are trash, love isn’t real, heartbreak can possibly cause death life. Forget John Green, your life had taken an unexpected Shakespearean turn.

“Oh,” you say the moment you step into Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment, surprised at the fact Jungkook is there despite the fact he, y’know, lives there. In retrospect, you should have seen this coming when Tae had asked you over to help him decorate a poster for Jin’s next game. He’s never been to a single soccer match in his life. “Is Tae here?” You ask, looking every part the stupid bitch.

Jungkook’s cheeks had flushed the moment he opened the door. “No…” he answers, glances at the shoe rack behind the door as if to make sure. “Were you supposed to meet him?” Well no shit.

“Uhh, yeah,” you say, and it’s even more awkward than the time he saw your star undies. Granted, now he’s become very familiar with your underwear and what’s hidden beneath it. You would think such an encounter would bring you two closer. “I’ll just come back another time.”

“Do you wanna come in?” He blurts out before you can even turn away. You flinch at the sudden intensity of his voice, and then both of you are left staring at each other like cringey high schoolers. “I cut some cucumber slices with lime and that one spice you like.”

“Taíjn?” You confirm, and he nods. “I mean...sure, if it’s not a bother.”

Usually when you and Jungkook hung out at his place, you’d throw your bag across the room and flop onto the ugly armchair the moment you stepped in. Now, you’re awkwardly hovering by the armrest of the sofa, like this is your first time here.

Jungkook disappears into the kitchen to, you assume, get the cucumber slices. He comes back empty handed, and with a heavy heart. “I lied. There’s no Tajín,” he confesses, and you rush to tell him it’s okay but he beats you to it. “There’s no cucumber slices either. I just needed to get you inside to talk to you.”

“You act like I needed to be lured in, Jungkook,” you say, forcing a tight smile on your face. Jungkook visibly deflates at your tone.

“No, this isn’t right,” he huffs, dramatically throwing himself onto the couch. You jump at the loud groan he releases from his position, which is face stuffed into the cushion.

“You...okay?” You tentatively ask, clutching your bag even closer to your side. Jungkook shakes his head no against the couch. “Should I call Namjoon over?”

He sits up so fast you worry he’ll get whiplash. “I have a confession to make,” he informs you, doe eyes wide and serious.

Your brain processes for a minute before slowly responding. “Okay…”

At your response he jumps to his feet. “This may come as a shock, but I’m not a womanizer.”

You blink.

“When have you ever been a womanizer, Jeon?!” You nearly exclaim when you mull over his absurd proclamation. “Are there people who actually think that?”

“I think that people think that,” he stresses to you, running a hand through his hair. “Look. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m really nice and cool, and sometimes people think that means I’m flirting with them.” Valid point. “But I’m not, because frankly I’m terrible at shooting my shot.”

The fact he’s actually admitted it out loud leaves him devastated, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Finally, something Jeon Jungkook isn’t good at.

“What lead you to that conclusion?” You carefully press on.

“Because,” he sighs, dropping back down onto the couch, except this time he’s sitting like a normal person. You sit beside him, close enough to the edge that you can just spring yourself out the door if need be.

“There’s this girl I like,” your heart pangs, even though the logical side of you can more or less guess where this is going. You’re stupid, but not that stupid. “She’s amazing, like everything about her makes me like her. God, she’s so cool, like everyone wants to be her friend, even though she sucks at Super Smash Bros., and burns her ear on a straightener at least once a month. But she’s funny and sweet, and makes me wanna join a clown troupe just to hear her laugh. And she looks gorgeous in skirts, and the way she rides dic—“

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” you interrupt, glancing at the coffee table decorated with Jungkook’s anatomy books, because you don’t want to look at the big dopey grin on his face as he talks about you and your dick riding abilities.

Jungkook grins, this much you can tell from your peripheral, before it drops into a frown. “Whole point is, she’s cool as fuck. And I… I think I might love her,” he admits, and you whip around to face him. His cheeks are as red as Taehyung’s current hair dye, which is to say they’re as red as a fire truck. You get th feeling you're mirroring his expression.

The silence following his confession seems to drag on an eternity, but truthfully, you and Jungkook both have the patience of a soccer mom of three, so he jumps to fill the spaces between you. “And like, I just wanna kiss her and hold her and watch her eat and cuddle her to sleep and hold her hand and buy her gifts, and I think I would die for her?—”

“Okay chill, Romeo,” you scramble to cut off that train of thought. Jungkook’s looking at you like you were the creative director behind Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker and the trailer released two minutes ago. It’s a weird reference but coming from Jungkook, it means a lot.

You don’t know what to say, but Jungkook beats you to it anyway. “There’s this girl I like,” he repeats, and your heart does nearly implode on itself when he reaches over to clutch your hand in his. Your hands are sweaty and fidgety from his confession, but so are Jungkook’s. “How do I tell her I like her?”

You gulp, before reaching over to smack at his bicep much to both your surprise. “Jeon Jungkook! How’re you gonna give me the best fucking of my life and then ghost me for a week, because you’re too much of a pussy to tell me you like me!” You almost want to cry, and you almost do when he wraps you in his arms with a delighted, warm laugh rumbling through his whole body. “You suck,” you huff, and sniffle once, and only once.

“Thank fuck,” he sighs in relief. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you friendzoned me.”

“The friendzone—“

“—is a made up concept created by men who feel like they’re entitled to women and their feelings, I know,” he huffs and you laugh. You push yourself away from his chest to meet his gaze, stretching up to capture his lips in a sweet kiss that quickly turns naughty when you feel the flex of muscles beneath your hands.

“Ugh, you beefcake.”

“I wish,” he snorts, tugging you back into his chest as he flops down onto the couch. You snuggle into him, the position all too comfortable in your skirt. The only reason you’re reminded of it is because Jungkook traces his fingers along the edge of the material. “You asked me why I workout out but hide in big clothes, and the truth is its so I can beat up any meninist douchebag that tries to slander my girl in her thot skirts.”

You sputter. “My thot skirts—you asshole! All my skirts are of appropriate length,” you defend, pinching his side and winning a giggle for your efforts. “That doesn’t even explain the baggy clothes part either.”

“Shh, your thot skirt is tempting me.”

“He made you dress up as a what now?!” Chaeyoung exclaims, fork clattering loudly against her plate as everyone in the diner turns to look at you two. You try desperately to quiet her, but the damage is done and even the server whose long since become familiar with your antics looks disgusted.

“Oh my god,” Chaeyoung sighs, her concern on everything but this public humiliation. “I knew it. I told you he got along too well with Jalapeño, remember?”

[ NOW WITH A DRABBLE WOW!!! ]

#kpopwonderlandtag #thekpopnetwork #jjk♡#jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jeon jeongguk #mine

8K notes · View notes

ao719 · 4 years

Text

Split

Split - Nothing Is As It Seems (Chapter 7)

Characters belong to Pixelberry

Title inspiration: Nothing is as it Seems - Hidden Citizens

Summary: A change in the King’s behavior becomes the catalyst to revealing secrets buried beneath the surface.

Warning: This series will contain sensitive and NSFW material. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18+.

Catch Up Here

A/N: *🍋* Huge thanks to @dcbbw for prereading!

Tags: @bobasheebaby @leelee10898 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @gardeningourmet @blackcoffee85 @gibbles82 @annekebbphotography @sweetest-marbear @wannabemc2 @indiacater @liamxs-world @smalltalk88 @damienswhore @classylady1234 @kazdog75-blog @lodberg @umccall71 @texaskitten30 @thequeenofcronuts @romanticatheart-posts @jared2612 @custaroonie @drakesensworld @perfectprofessorherokid @blznbaby @iplaydrake @be-still-my-aching-heart @moneyfordiamonds @the-soot-sprite @ladyangel70 @lynne1993 @kate-mckenzie @emichelle @zilch3 @princess-andromeda-nazario @mfackenthal @dcbbw @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @sirbeepsalot @emceesynonymroll @debramcg1106 @gnatbrain @thecordoniandiaries @janezillow @caroldxnvxrs @silverofdreams

Liam’s fingers were laced through Alexandria’s, pinning her hands against the pillow as his lips slowly trailed up her neck before meeting hers. The kiss was slow and deep, their tongues languidly curling together. His body was nestled between her legs which were wrapped around him. She could feel him still pulsing inside her; he could feel her still trembling beneath him as they caught their breath.

Liam drew back from the kiss, tugging at her bottom lip. “We have work to do, my king,” Alexandria reminded him

“That we do,” he smirked.

“I mean actual work, Liam,” she giggled.

“This is considered work,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again. “It’s for the good of the country we spend as much time as possible trying to make an heir.”

Alexandria laughed as he slowly kissed his way down her chest, still holding her hands in place. “I think that you’re reaching a little bit with that one.”

“It’s in the fine print,” he whispered before his tongue swirled around her nipple. She gasped as she arched into his mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

She could feel him swell inside her again at the sound she made. “You just … and you’re already ...” Alexandria smiled and bit her lip as Liam raised his head to look at her with a smirk. He began to rock his hips and swallowed her moan as his mouth covered hers.

****

After bathing and saying goodbye to his wife, who was still showering, Liam emerged from their shared bedroom. He was ready for his day full of meetings and phone calls, and preparing for his trip to Italy. At least I started it my morning off right, he smiled to himself as he poured a cup of coffee.

Liam walked out of the door, seeing Bastien waiting outside to escort him to his study. “Good morning, sir,” he bowed.

“Good morning, Bastien,” Liam smiled.

“You only have 5 minutes until your meeting with the Duke of Ramsford.”

“Yes, I was ... running late this morning,” he smirked, thinking back to his early morning with Alexandria. “Do we have any further details regarding the investigation? I’m certain, as he’s head of the council, that’s why he called the meeting.”

“No, sir. We haven’t found anything else that would be considered solid proof regarding Countess Madeleine. Not yet anyway. My men are still looking. More than likely, the Duke is going to ask the same thing, and he’ll bring up the video footage that Her Majesty, Drake, and Duchess Olivia obtained.”

“We can only hold her for so long without concrete evidence, Bastien. There has to be something. I don’t want her walking away from this.”

“I assure you, we’re working on it diligently, sir.”

****

Alexandria walked towards her study later that morning with a mug of coffee in her hand and a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She thought back to that morning and how Liam had awakened her, shuddering at the memory. She was happy that her Liam was back.

It had been a week since Alexandria, Drake, and Olivia had caught Madeleine with GHB in her possession while alone with Liam in his study, and the King sent her to the cells. The drinks she poured for Liam and herself, as well as the bottles of liquor from his bar cart, had all been tested for any traces of the drug. They all came back negative. Because their video footage was insufficient, the investigation was still open. The camera angle didn’t allow them to see Madeleine actually attempting to put the drug into Liam’s drink, regardless of it being in her hand when they caught her. The Royal Council was now involved as the video alone wasn’t concrete enough to bring forth any charges. There was no evidence she had previously used it on the King, nor proof she intended to in the future.

Liam continued to have no episodes or further incidents. He was back to his old self: the loving, caring, attentive, and playful man that she had fallen in love with and married. But Alexandria still found herself concerned. If Madeleine had in fact been drugging Liam, no one knew how long it had been going on, or how often she had been doing it. Alexandria was worried about any long term effects it could potentially have on him.

Alexandria entered her study, headed towards her desk. “Finally!” Alexandria whipped around to see Olivia. “I’ve been waiting for you for an hour. You’re usually here by now.”

“I was … running a little behind this morning.” Alexandria tried hiding the smile but failed.

Olivia rolled her eyes, knowing by that smile what she meant. “Please, spare me any further details.”

Alexandria laughed before sipping her coffee, giving a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Alright … let’s call him.” She sat in her chair as Olivia took the seat across from her and grabbed her phone, dialing the number.

It rang a few times before he finally answered. “Hello, Your Majesty.”

“Hello, Dr. Patel, how are you?”

“I’m well, ma’am, thank you. How are you and His Majesty?”

“We’re good, thank you.”

“How has King Liam been?”

“He’s been great, actually. No incidents.”

“That’s great to hear. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“I had a question I wanted to ask you and I’m trusting that this conversation will stay private and confidential.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

It was quiet for a moment as Alexandria chose her words. Discretion was paramount on both sides of the conversation. She looked at Olivia who gave her an encouraging nod. “Are there longterm effects of ingesting the drug GHB? Physically and, or mentally?”

The doctor stayed silent for a long moment. “There are a few different variables that would depend on, ma’am. How long they had been taking it. How often they had been taking it. The amount they were taking. GHB can be a very dangerous drug. The body can experience withdrawal symptoms as with any drug if they have been taking it on a regular basis. As far as long term effects … yes, there are some, but that doesn’t necessarily mean one will have them.”

Alexandria met Olivia’s gaze once again, her eyes filled with worry. “What are they ... the long term effects?”

“There is a possibility that someone could have some cognitive changes.”

“Cognitive changes?” Alexandria asked.

“Cognitive changes can range from a number of things such as memory, attention and concentration, impaired judgment. The person could also lash out angrily over simple things or just tend to seem a little on edge. I’m not saying that could definitely happen, it is rare, but it is a possibility. And sometimes certain changes can mimic the effects of the drug while someone is under the influence of it. So for example, someone under the influence of GHB can be aggressive and lash out at times, they can experience headaches, confusion, or exhaustion. They can experience all of the same symptoms while off the drug as well, but they’re usually less intense.”

Alexandria let out a breath as her mind swirled. “Ok. Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am. Have a good rest of your day.”

Alexandria hung up the phone and she and Olivia stared at one another. “Well, he said that it’s rare. So I wouldn’t be worried unless you see signs of it. You said he’s been completely fine.” Alexandria nodded. “Has Bastien and the King’s guard found anything else on Madeleine?”

“No … not that I’m aware of.” Alexandria noticed that look in Olivia’s eyes. “Why?”

“I’m not sure … but I don’t know if I believe that Madeleine was smart enough to do this alone. I mean … ok, she’s smart. But this … something feels off. I just can’t understand what she would gain for herself by doing this, and it’s making me question whether there’s another hand involved.”

“But who? And why?”

“That’s what we need to figure out. The council isn’t relying on just the video footage. And Madeleine isn’t talking. So the only thing we have is that she had it in her possession, which proves absolutely nothing.”

****

That night Liam walked the corridors back to his quarters. He let out a breath as he loosened his tie, thankful the day was finally over. His meeting with Bertrand hadn’t really gone the way he had hoped it would. The Royal Council needed more evidence to go after Madeleine. If Bastien and his men didn’t find something, and soon, she was going to walk.

Liam was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that she had been putting something into his drinks. He just couldn’t understand the why. Liam and Alexandria had talked about it, and she had brought up Madeleine’s incessant nagging about the alliance offers, more so the one pertaining to Auvernal. Alexandria questioned whether or not that had anything to do with it, but Liam didn’t think so. This began on the Unity Tour, long before any alliance offers were brought to his attention. It didn’t make any sense.

Nothing made sense.

Bastien had attempted to question Madeleine on more than a few occasions, but she wasn’t speaking. She refused to answer any questions or even offer some form of an explanation, truth or lie, as to why she had the GHB in her possession. She was giving them nothing. It didn’t come as a surprise, however. Liam wasn’t expecting her to just roll over and admit her wrongdoings.

It just left him with more questions than answers, and that he didn’t like.

Liam was thankful that he now had answers to his behaviors and the reasons behind his headaches, blackouts, and confusion. He felt back to his old self. He and Alexandria were back to where they both needed and wanted to be in their marriage. He had spoken with Drake again, continuing to apologize for the things that he said to him that night; things that he didn’t remember saying. He was both sorry and appalled. Drake told him not to worry about it, that he wasn’t in control of himself at the time. It was now water under the bridge.

Liam entered the quarters, stepping into the living area. He could hear Alexandria in the kitchen, following the sound of her humming as he smiled. “Hello, love.”

Alexandria turned from the stove where she was making dinner and smiled. “Hey, you. How was your day?”

Liam stepped up to her and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “It was good. I had a bit of a late start,” he smirked.

“Oh? Me too,” she chuckled as she turned back to the stove.

“That smells good,” Liam said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Chicken Caprese pasta with sundried tomatoes,” she replied. She put some on a fork and lifted it to Liam’s lips, feeding it to him.

Liam closed his eyes and hummed in approval. “Tastes good too.”

****

After dinner, Alexandria sat on the bed in their room, talking to Liam while he packed for his trip to Italy. “Bertrand said that the video wasn’t enough and if Bastien and the guards aren’t able to find anything soon, they have no choice but to let her go. And Godfrey has been up in arms about her being held, harassing the other council members.”

“Of course he has,” Alexandria replied as she rolled her eyes. “And she’s still not talking?” Liam shook his head as he placed a few items of clothing in his bag. “Figures …” Alexandria ran her fingers through her hair as she let out a breath.

“They’ll find something, love.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Even if she does get out, once they find something, they can bring her back in.”

“But I don’t want her getting out, Liam. That gives her the opportunity to run, or worse, try something else. And I still don’t understand what the hell she’s gaining from this …”

Liam moved his half packed suitcase to the floor and stood in front of Alexandria who was still seated on the bed. “Let’s not worry about it right now. I leave tomorrow morning and I have plans on how to spend our night, and they do not include talking about this.”

“Oh? What do they include?” Alexandria’s brow arched as she smiled. Liam smirked before capturing her lips in his and guiding her back onto the mattress.

*******

Alexandria stirred in the bed feeling a warm hand brush across her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw Liam smiling down at her. “Good morning, my love.”

She smiled but it faltered. “You’re leaving me now, aren’t you?”

Liam chuckled as he leaned down kissing her forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it. I’ve already made your coffee and breakfast.”

“You’re so good to me,” she smiled. “Let me know when you get there so I know that you’ve arrived safely.”

“Always,” Liam smiled.

“And tell Francesco I said hello.”

“I will.” Liam leaned down kissing her softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Liam stood from the bed and grabbed his suitcase, disappearing into the hallway a moment later. It wasn’t as though this was his first trip away, but Alexandria found herself with this unexplainably odd and uneasy feeling. Perhaps it was because it was his first trip away since everything happened. She shrugged it off and sat up in the bed, running her fingers through her tousled hair.

Alexandria walked out to the kitchen where her breakfast was waiting for her. She scanned the newspaper while she ate and drank her coffee. She checked the time; she was supposed to meet Olivia in her study in an hour. She headed back to her bedroom to shower and get ready for her day.

Alexandria stood in the shower letting the hot water run down her body as the room filled with steam. Her eyes were closed as she rolled her neck side to side, letting the warmth ease her muscles.

She washed and rinsed her hair before working the conditioner through it. While that set, she turned and let the water run over the front of her body before grabbing her loofah and pouring a generous amount of her rose scented body wash onto it. She ran the sponge along her body: her arms, her neck, her chest, then her stomach.

As she washed she felt a pair of hands settle on her hips. She gasped and whipped her head back over her shoulder to see those blue eyes and that smirk. “Liam?” She turned to face him, his bare body on full display. “What are you doing here? I thought you left for Italy already?”

“It seems the pilot was a tad forgetful. He wasn’t there when we arrived and needed about an hour. I thought I’d come back to spend the time with you before we departed instead of waiting on the jet. And lucky me ... look where I found you.” He smirked before he leaned down covering her mouth with his, slipping his tongue past her lips to caress hers.

Alexandria wasn’t sure what had gotten into him lately, but she wasn’t going to complain.

He backed Alexandria against the granite wall, pushing his knee between her thighs to part them. His hand slid down over her chest, circling his thumb around her peaked bud as he cupped the side of her breast. He dipped his mouth down and took her nipple between his lips, sucking and swirling his tongue, and she let out a sharp breath. His hand traveled down over her stomach and across her hip bone before sliding his fingers through her slick lips, wet from both the water and her essence.

Alexandria’s eyes fluttered shut as he worked his fingers against her and his mouth trailed down her neck, biting and sucking her sensitive skin to mark her before placing soft kisses over the welted flesh. Then he slid two fingers inside her and she gasped as she arched into his hand. “Yes, Liam,” she whimpered.

He drew back to look in her eyes, arching his brow. “Who?”

“Liam,” Alexandria mewled as he slid his fingers in and out of her, but then he paused his movements.

“No, my love. Not Liam.”

Alexandria opened her eyes and looked at him, biting her lip through a smirk before her mouth fell open as he began moving his fingers again, curling them inside her. “Yes, my king,” she moaned.

She watched his eyes darken to a stormy ocean blue. “Good girl,” he growled before he crashed his lips against hers.

Alexandria arched further into his hand, riding his fingers as the water cascaded down over them. His lips moved back to her neck as he brought her to the edge. “I’m so close,” she moaned.

At her words, he drew his fingers out of her and her eyes flew open as she whimpered from the loss. “You’re going to come with me inside you.” He anchored his one foot in front of hers so it didn’t slip and lifted her other leg to his waist as he stroked his hard cock. Her body quivered when he slid the tip against her and lined himself up. With a powerful thrust he drove into her, his eyes rolling back with a deep groan, feeling her stretch around him. He slowly slid out and plunged himself back inside, setting a rough and steady pace. “Fuck, you feel incredible.” He slid his hand to the small of her back pulling her to meet each thrust.

Alexandria rolled her hips against him, feeling him stroke that spot deep inside her as her nails dug into his shoulders. “Liam, don’t stop!” she moaned.

“I’m your king,” he growled as he drove himself in harder and deeper. “Say it!”

“My king!” Alexandria cried out as she fell over the edge, pleasure wracking her body as she shuddered. His thrusts became more erratic until meeting his own release, spilling himself inside her.

He dropped his head on her shoulder as they caught their breath, the water running down over his muscles back. He lifted his head and looked at her as her fingers ran through his wet hair. He leaned down and captured her lips in a deep kiss.

“That was …” Alexandria trailed off, still catching her breath as she stared into his eyes. Unexpected.

He smiled wolfishly as he stared at her. “Perfect.” He stepped back and pulled Alexandria with him, letting the spray from the water run over her. “I really should go now before I’m the one who’s late. I’ll see you very soon, my Queen.” He leaned in and kissed her once more before stepping out of the shower.

Alexandria was left in somewhat of a stupor for a moment. She snapped out of it and smiled, shaking her head as she finished her shower.

*******

A few days into Liam’s trip to Italy, Alexandria sat at her desk in her study, finishing up some work after a day full of meetings, some she was attending on the King’s behalf.

She heard a knock on her door and glanced up to see Drake leaning against the doorframe. “Hey,” she smiled.

“What are you doing still working?”

“I had a few extra things on my plate today, covering for Liam,” she chuckled.

“Want some company for dinner?”

“Sure,” she nodded. “Let me just finish up this last bit of paperwork. If you want, call down to the kitchen and order whatever. It should be ready by the time I’m done.” Drake nodded and pulled out his phone, calling down and asking them to whip up a couple of burgers. Alexandria smirked and shook her head at his typical order. “Want some whiskey to go with that meat?” she snorted.

Drake gave her a mocking look and flipped her off as he hung up the phone and cracked a smile. “How’s Liam’s trip going?”

“Good! The tax incentive talks with Francesco seem to be going the way he wants them to.” Alexandria was interrupted when her cell phone rang. She glanced down at the screen and smiled. “Speak of the devil.” She answered, putting it on speaker. “Hello.”

“Hi, my love. How was your day?”

“It was busy, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Drake’s here now, we’re going to grab some dinner once I finish with this paperwork.”

“Hey, Li,” Drake called from the other side of the room.

“Hello,” he answered back. “How did the meeting with Neville go today?”

“Great for me, for him … not so much,” she chuckled. “I told him he wasn’t getting any additional funds.”

“Did he throw a fit?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll hear from him once you return.”

“It won’t get him anywhere. I will uphold my Queen’s decision,” he chuckled.

“How did the talks with Francesco go today?” Alexandria asked.

“Very well, actually. I’m close to getting him to agree to my terms and not change anything in the process. Just need to keep him happy over the next few days,” he chuckled.

“That sounds promising,” she smiled.

“I’m getting ready to go meet him for dinner and drinks now.”

Alexandria looked up at the same time Drake turned, their eyes meeting. “Drinks?”

“Yes, just a few.”

“Liam … you haven’t had anything to drink in a while …”

“I had a couple last night with him, and the night before and I was fine, Alex. You talked to me afterward both times. We know what was causing everything. It wasn’t the actual alcohol, remember?”

Alexandria’s eyes were still on Drake’s, feeling a little uneasy. “Just … just don’t over-do it … ok?”

“I won’t, my love, I promise. Just a couple over conversation. I need to finish getting ready, but I’ll call you later when I get back.”

“Ok …”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Alexandria let out a breath as she ended the call, staring down at the now black screen. Drake noticed her expression. “Don’t worry … he’ll be alright.” Alexandria looked back up at him again. “He’s right, it wasn’t the alcohol, it was what was being put in the alcohol. And he said you talked to him the last couple of nights after he had a few and he was fine?”

“I couldn’t even tell,” Alexandria replied.

“See? So I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Bastien is going to be with him.” Alexandria gave Drake a look and he bit back a laugh at knowing why. “I’m not going there. Come on, let’s go eat.”

Alexandria gathered up the papers on her desk and put them away, all while her mind was on Liam. She already had this oddly unsettling feeling about this trip. Although, once she had heard from him upon his arrival, she felt better. But now, knowing that he was dabbling in a few drinks, it made her nervous. You’re worrying for no reason, she tried convincing herself. She needed to remind herself that the threat was currently locked away in the palace cells.

*******

A couple of days later, Alexandria sat in the royal quarters the evening before Liam was to arrive back from his trip. She had spoken to him the night before while he was getting ready to go celebrate with Francesco as they had come to agreement on the tax incentive deal. She hadn’t heard from him since.

Alexandria knew that Liam was finalizing everything with Francesco that day and would be busy while they went over the terms of their agreement and signed the deal. But he hadn’t called her that morning, nor that afternoon. She had tried calling a few times and sent a couple of messages for him to call her when he got the chance, but she received no answer. It was well past dinner time now, and she still had yet to hear from him.

Alexandria glanced at the clock on the wall above the fireplace, her brows creasing. Liam should have called by now. She could feel that uneasy feeling starting to rise inside her again, still unable to explain exactly why she was feeling that way. She reached over and grabbed her phone, dialing his number again. Again, there was no answer.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, Alexandria called Bastien. “Good evening, Your Majesty. Is everything alright?”

“Hello, Bastien. Is Liam in his room?”

“Yes, ma’am. He arrived back from dinner a couple of hours ago and has been in there since.”

“I’ve been trying to reach him all day, he’s not answering, but I haven’t heard from him. Could you go check on him please?”

“Of course, ma’am. One moment.” Bastien exited his room which was situated across the hall from Liam’s. He raised his hand to knock on the door but paused when he heard a thudding sound coming from the other side. “Ma’am ... let me call you right back.”

The tone Bastien spoke in caused Alexandria to become slightly nervous. “No! You’ll keep me on the phone. Slip it into your pocket if you need, but do not hang up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bastien did as he was told and slid his phone into the pocket of his suit jacket. He knocked on the King’s door. There was no answer. He knocked again, a little harder. Just as he was about to knock again, the door opened and Bastien looked at Liam, his brows furrowing at his King’s appearance. “Are you alright, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, fine, why?”

Bastien continued to stare at Liam, who for some reason was seemingly out of breath with sweat on his forehead and and neck. “You seem … a tad out of sorts.”

“No, I fell asleep. I woke up in a cold sweat when I heard you knock. I must have had a bad dream or something,” he waved his hand dismissively. As Bastien continued to stare at him, Liam cleared his throat. “Was there something that you needed?”

Bastien slipped his hand in his pocket, momentarily forgetting the Alexandria was still waiting. “The Queen, sir, she called me. I have her on the line. She’s been trying to reach you and was unable to do so, so she asked me to check on you.”

“Tell her I’ll call her in a few moments.” Bastien barely gave a nod before Liam stepped back inside his room and shut the door.

Bastien raised the phone to his ear as he turned and walked back into his own room. “Ma’am?”

“What’s wrong? Why did you say he seemed out of sorts?”

“He was slightly sweaty and seemed a little out of breath when he answered the door. But he said he was fine and that he will call you in a few moments.”

Alexandria’s brows knitted. “Ok. Thank you, Bastien. Uh … just keep an eye out on him?”

“I will, ma’am. I’ll get him back to you safely.”

“Thank you.”

Alexandria hung up, that uneasy feeling rising slightly higher. Just hearing Liam in the background on the call with Bastien, he seemed off to her, and she wasn’t even with him. And it still didn’t explain why he hadn’t reached out to her all day.

A short time later, longer than she would have assumed it would have taken him to call, Alexandria’s phone rang and she glanced down seeing Liam’s name flash across the screen. “Hello?”

“Hello, my queen.”

“Hi … I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Is everything ok?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I was busy all day with the final meetings with Francesco and then we went to dinner after to celebrate one final time. I got back to the hotel and I fell asleep.”

“Oh. Is everything alright? Bastien said you seemed a little disheveled when you answered the door …”

“I’m fine,” he replied quickly. “I need to go though. I still need to finish packing and then get some sleep, the jet is leaving early in the morning.”

Alexandria furrowed her brows. It wasn’t like Liam to rush her off the phone, but he was doing it now. “Oh … ok. I, uh … I will see you tomorrow then, when you return.”

“Yes you will. And I’m looking forward to it.”

269 notes · View notes

fanartfunart · 4 years

Text

@sapony01 commented on one of my Sides Swap posts: Can you explain their function and personality a bit better/explore them? Some are kinda obvious but some kinda confuse me

And, but of course! I’m totally open to it! (I’m mostly making another post for it because otherwise it’ll get absurdly long)

To summarize, the main idea is that they keep their personality and secondary traits they represent (Like Ego, Emotionality, ect), while further representing the Main Trait (like Anxiety, Creativity, ect)

The rest under the cut:

Anxiety

Roman: His key representation of Anxiety would befall closer to overemphasizing bravery and ignoring problems, and of course, insecurities. Thus a focus on Dangers you can Fight, and avoiding things you can’t. A emphasis on the Knight theme as a representation of bravery. He’d use ego and theatricality as a cover- a ‘be weird before people can accuse you of being weird because then it’s on purpose’ type logic.

Patton: The type of Anxiety where you emotionally over extending yourself because you’re scared of social-emotional repercussions. Caring so much that there’s no time and energy to care for yourself. Also a good representation of the Dad-Friend override for Anxiety.

Logan: A representation of over-analyzing the world like an outsider, that emotional distance that, while you’re curious of all the things around you, you can’t help but focus on the bad. Avoidance becomes a key factor and everything is categorized as bad or good off of exaggerated ‘proof’.

Janus: Very self protective to the point that things outside the Comfort Zone are almost always negative and overwhelming. Sarcasm, brittleness, and lying as a way to avoid things outside the Comfort Zone.

Remus: Overthinking creating an Anxious reaction. Basically seeing things in the shadows and over-analyzing interactions. Essentially worries cropping up out of the idea of various terrible things you can think of possibly coming at you from the smallest of hints to it. Also Knight theme because why not.

Creativity

Logan: A more organized and analytic approach to creative works. Prone to being a literary critic. Draws from media to explain a point. As creativity would likely be the type of writer that hides details and metaphors in everything, focus on foreshadowing and the such.

Janus: Never lets anything be direct, people should be able to make their own conclusions about the meaning of the text. Probably thinks method acting is fun. The kind of actor/writer that easily shrugs on different types of characterizations that it makes other people dizzy seeing him switch between them.

Virgil: Your inner Emo Art Phase personified (everyone has at least one somewhere in there). Would prefer to be either a lesser known creator, or not let Thomas use his real name (thus Ghostwriter), because being Known is Awkward and his work can get too real, being known as a real person could detract from the art. Focus on art as an outlet for expressing negative feelings and stress relief.

Patton: Take your craft-happy relative who always hand-makes gifts and you’ve got Creativity Patton. Just wants to have fun and share the fun. Draws from positive emotional experiences for creativity because he wants to give everyone who sees said art a hug through said art. (Yes, his design is vaugely based off of Disney’s Pinocchio Geppetto aka Pinocchio’s dad.)

Remus: Take Remus as he is, and then take the ‘intrusiveness’ out of him. He basically has all the same horrifying ideas, but he doesn’t use them to make Thomas upset or anything, he’s just making stories.

Logic

Patton: Sorta a relaxed logic, understands not everything can be solved with a clean logical solution and that emotions hold a important space in people’s actions. Is that little logical voice when you’re super mad going ‘you’re mad because this, this, and this, and this is probably an overreaction to what you’re expressing your anger to, but it’s still valid.’ Prone to emotional fallacies though.

Virgil: You know any super cool teacher/professor who teaches you what the book says and then closes the book and says ‘ok now guess what, they’re also wrong, and I’m probably wrong too’?? Virgil as logic. (also why I kinda gave him the ‘tired + university hoodie’ style) Emphasizes learning from various sources and never trusting any of them 100%. Doesn’t trust his own information either, and it makes him stressed.... but like, he’s always stressed anyway so it’s chill.

Roman: Bounces from topic to topic to learn. Very curious and easily inspired- also easily distracted. The definition of what a liberal arts education should be doing- aka, connecting seemingly unrelated topics. An Encyclopedia of very specific information. But, once he’s got a set of information it’s hard to let go of it, which makes it hard to adjust to being told he’s wrong.

Janus: Emphasis on how information is always being adjusted, and people’s biases are always present in studies and interpretation. Focuses on debunking things. Also kinda makes it hard to 100% be sure of any information presented.

Remus: Enjoys abusing the ‘technicalities’ in things. A little hard to follow in terms of train of thought. Disturbing Facts are still facts.

Morality

Virgil: Emphasis on sympathy and ‘do what you’d hope people would do for you’ moral arguments. Focus on social structure for the ground rules for moral behavior. That guy who’s constantly nice because he wished someone was nice to him, ya know? Hates the idea of being a bad person so much that it causes a lot of guilt and mistrust of the self.

Logan: Thinks of moral behavior as an equation of sorts. People do good things and that causes good things and that allows the social structure to work as it should, so do good things. Draws on philosophy and other social sciences to argue his points. Easy to readjust his thinking with proper reasoning.

Roman: Just wants people to be happy! And to be good! Emphasis on the reactions of others and how that effects your social/emotional well-being. Do good because it feels good kinda guy (he wants to be somebody’s Hero, ya know how it be).

Janus: Understands that morality is such a grey place that most anything can be seen as bad if you argue it enough. Places value on the self as someone deserving of feeling good as well, and bases moral values on what you as an individual wants to do. Also still kinda morally grey in general and probably shouldn’t always be listened to.

Remus: I Follow no Rules but My Own. Full rejection of social pressures. What precisely that means for his resulting moral standing is up to debate.

Deceit

Logan: Woorsst lair because he’ll twist truth and facts into it and it’s hard to pick out what’s the lie. Very blunt about his role as deception and its benefits and drawbacks. Very good about remembering which lies were told when and to who. Not the kind to lie more than seen necessary.

Roman: Focus on lying as acting and getting to where you need to go in life. ‘Fake it til you make it’ is his motto and it also includes mental states. Makes it hard to be honest about feelings. Very much a ‘lying to yourself’ aspect.

Virgil: Lying to avoid perceived negative repercussions. Lying still bothers him- as lying can also cause negative reactions. Focus on lying in reaction to events, less so on lying to the self. Not every lie is especially necessary though, knee-jerk reactions and fear make it very easy to lie. Lies of omission being the most utilized.

Remus: The opposite to Roman’s ‘lying to yourself’. Lying to others just to see their reactions. Uses being ‘blatantly honest’ about taboo subjects to seem honest about other things.

Patton: Lying to spare people’s feelings and being perceived well. Focus on lying or omitting the truth to seem like everything’s awesome.

Intrusive Thots

Patton: Makes emotional reactions overwhelmingly hard to gauge and control, results in terrifying thoughts and feelings with little control or filter. Gets stuck on ideas because of how hard he’s trying to push it away (yea know, like the white bear experiment).

Virgil: Thinks in problem solving, but the problems are of course, the thoughts of his own creation. Incessant about ‘solving’ the perceived problem.... not much else changes.

Logan: The Mad Scientist aesthetic is fun, what can I say? Takes facts and focuses on the scary parts, and then brings them back up on the slightest hint of relevance, and sometimes just Because. Some of it is curiosity taken into a frightening territory and gets overwhelming.

Janus: Emphasis on what happens if terrible things happened. Also likes using the ‘you’re gonna go to hell anyway just dive in with me’ argument. Occasionally pops up in a way that sounds almost nice, then turns horrifying very quickly.

Roman: Take Roman, make his ideas more Remus. He’s already Loud and Proud, just make him scarier, and a little more incessant and probably a little more arrogant for good measure.

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 3 years

Text

How To Catch a Friend

Kanene’s note: Heyaaa! Well, this is a very late fanfic written due @kieraelieson‘s Make This In Your Only Style Contest. I choose prompt one because it was the one that most inspired me, and I really like the result!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That is an Alternative Universe with Fairy!Patton, Magic!Logan, Witch!Virgil and Magic!Roman

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Warning for Angst (but only a bit), cursing, fighting, mention of explosions, slightly hurt/comfort and brief shouting. This has about 7.000 words because I got hella inspired due this very good prompt. Kiera, I am looking directly at you XDDD <333. Thankys for the inspiration!

* I didn’t proof read it very well, so I am sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Want to know more about this AU? Here is a post for ya! They’re precious and I will fight for them. Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Stay calm, take a time to yourself, remember to eat today, hug asoft thing, make a wish, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

“I can’t do anything right!” The tiny fairy cried, crumpling forlornly onto the stump.

Logan realized then that the dare to keep walking had not been intended to be possible. He frowned slightly, wondering if it was even possible to comfort the little thing when he was the one to upset him.

“Please don’t cry. I can step back and you can try again to trap me.”

The fairy sniffed, wiping his eyes. “You would do that?”

“Certainly. I’ve tried enough difficult things to know that it sometimes it takes several attempts to get it right.”

“Ohh, okay!” His tiny head nodded thoughtfully, the hair strands bouncing a bit with the movements, which made Logan wonder how the gravity influenced the little being and if he could bring up this discussion in his school.

Definitely not during class, the other kids didn’t like when he talked a lot, especially about things that weren’t in the book and ‘therefore’ - Logan didn’t grasp the logic in this. Books are great, however can’t contain all the knowledge that existed about the subject and most of the time their approach wasn't nearly as interesting as it should be. - weren’t important to say.

Logan couldn’t understand how could exist something that wasn’t worth being said or asked.

“How do gravity work on you?” He blurted out, looking behind, the tip of his tongue out matching with the frown on his face as the boy tried to step on his exact footsteps previously left on the dry dirt.

The fairy hummed, the movements of his wings making him to go slowly up and down, up and down, up and down. Like a seesaw, Logan would point, if he wasn’t so concentrated on the task of retreating and re-doing his previous steps very carefully. A funny image of himself and the fairy playing on the toy would also pop on his mind, perhaps making a giggle bubble on his chest.

The small magical being, in other hand, would think it was more like a leaf swinging back and forth on their branch before falling, the actual image of him and a very small human swinging and holding a branch as they smiled shining among his thoughts for three pieces of time, leading a giggle to escape and shake the tip of his wings. But he quickly tapped his temple a few times, attempting to poke that thought away.

The other fairies said he got attached too much easily.

“I don’t know.” The human seemed flatter his shoulders with a ‘oh’ and the winged being couldn’t help but continue his sentence, hurried “But I know how to sing in bee! Ah, please stop right there!”

The boy did as requested, his left hand running on the spine of his book back and forth, making the other wonder if the letters inside it were bigger than his – comparatively – tiny hands. His gaze fled until it met with the bigger being sparkled eyes. “Do you? Really? Why do I need to stop here?”

“Because it’s the closest where my trap is, kiddo! I’m going to redo the magic really quick. Then I can show you a bit of the dance!!” His tune bathed itself in joy, his hair strands looking as if they were floating in the air with how fast he flicked his wings, coming down to grab a brown pot, a silver liquid gleaming inside it. He stepped on the ground, spilling the potion on ten green leaves before going up, the liquid following him on absurdly thin strings that the magic fairy used to tie on the lower branches from the tree shading their forms, intelligible words coming out his mouth during the whole process.

The strings then spiraled before turning invisible.

“There! You can try to pass again, please, please, please!”

“Thank you,” the boy replied, remembering it was polite to reply with a good word when someone used a good word with you.

But it didn’t work. Again. The one who spent hours and hours preparing the potion - not only the simplest spell, but the simplest magic human trap - felt a painful tug on his stomach. The mean thoughts came back one more time, but he was too much distracted looking at the unfazed silver strings to poke them out.

“A-are you really a human?” He sniffed.

“Yes. I believe I am.”

“I can’t even catch the easier prey in the world!”

The young human noticed the distress on the other, this making an unpleasant feeling scratch his chest. He thought about what he could do to help. Usually talking about things he understood helped him. Yes, he really liked to talk. It felt good and very, very warm. Not hot. Hot made him stink and gave a really disgusting feeling on his skin. Talking was warm, different and good. Especially when people paid attention to him.

He could pay attention to the fairy. He also liked to listen.

“Why wouldn’t it work if I was not a human?”

“Humans are too much curio-ous to feel the magic or run away from it. This was the simplest potion to catch you! I spent an entire day preparing it, the ingredients aren’t hard to find, b-but I get very distracted.”

“Do you want me to come back tomorrow so you can try again?”

The tiny fairy blinked, looking at him with awe. “Would you do that?”

“Yes, of course. That is why I offered.”

“Oh, my stars. You’re the best human ever! Thank you, thank you, thank you, kiddo!!”

However, then he remembered a thing about humans. Humans are liars. They’re always busy, full of things to do and words empty of meaning to share. His bright smile fell a bit.

Well, at least they had the good luck of spending some time together having fun, right? Something deep down which wasn’t prepared to say goodbye grabbed the first excuse which appeared on his mind, didn’t want it to end just yet. “Do you still wanna see the dance?”

“Yes!” His wide eyes followed as the winged creature danced in loops and shaking his body, a soft buzzing filling the wind along with giggling.

“It can tickle.” It’s the explanation after he is done. Logan nods, making notes on the book he is carrying around, the tip of his tongue showing out again. He suddenly stops.

“What does it mean?”

“What?” The other asks, sitting on the pages and discovering with a joyful couple of clicks that his hands are actually bigger than the letters!

“The dance. Mom says that not everything has a meaning, which is weird but I remember seeing on TV that bee’s dance is commonly used to communicate, share localizations and therefore all their dances mean something. What does it say?”

“Oh,” he traced a letter with his finger, feeling the texture and avoiding the taller one gaze, “goodbye.”

“Thank you.” Logan nodded, circling some symbols and adding more symbols above it “Can you move, please? The Sun is beginning to set, I need to go home.” Both were momentarily embraced by the silence as the fairy moved to sit on a near branch, swinging his legs distractedly as a bird sang near, their attention captured by the melody.

The boy was the first to get out of the trance when the song stopped. “I’m going to be back by the same time tomorrow.” He wondered if fairies had clocks, however something on his mind said ‘no’, probably because the small being wasn’t always looking at his pulse and clicked for an entirely different reason. “Two hours before the sunset.” He provided, his chest for some reason scratching again when he didn’t see the excited flutter of the tip of the other’s wings, or the floating hair, just a smile.

“Okay.” Humans were busy, full of things to do, full of important tasks to attend.

They don’t come back.

“I will wait for you.” Patton - but Logan didn’t know this yet (and would him ever?) - answered with the most truthful sentence he could gather.

“Ok.”

Both waved as the distance between them increased, smiling their own small smiles.

The other fairies said he got attached too easily.

[~*~]

“Good afternoon, fairy.”

“You came back.” Patton’s mouth was wide open, the small pot shaking precariously on his hold, his utensil falling and being forgotten beside the rock where he sat. This couldn’t be true. Was it true? Was the damsels of wind and light pranking him with illusions?

Humans didn’t come back.

They didn’t care enough to come back.

But not this human.

“You came back!! You really came back!” Suddenly it was like the Sun had set on his stomach, filling his entire body with warmth and rays and sparkles and energy and warmth, warmth, warmth!

“Clearly. Just as I said I would.” The human’s voice sounded a lot more near now, since Patton bust in his direction, flying around the other in a paint of loops, twirls and giddy giggling that didn’t take long before being accompanied by the taller own huffed giggles. “Is it a bee dance again? What does it say?”

“No! It’s a Patton dance and it means ‘Welcome Back’!!”

“Patton?”

“Yes! That is me!” The tiny fairy landed on his hair, gasping a bit, unaware of his wings messing with some hair strands with their incessant, uncontrollable flapping.

“You’re not a specie.”

“Nope! But I’m as special as one! Just like you’re also the only one of your kind!”

“I’m not the only human that exists.”

“Yup! But you're the only one that thinks, feels and lives just like you.” Patton could feel the human frown in confusion. Clicks filled the air as he tried to think in how to explain his thoughts. “Everyone is... special. The Universe will never be able to make another Patton again, that is why I exist and that is why it’s a Patton Dance!”

“Hm.” Logan didn’t actually understand everything, but his mom told him every opinion is important, even if sometimes you think they’re wrong... or weird. The little magical being was a bit weird. Other people said Logan was also weird, usually when he talks a lot about a lot of things.

The boy decided it was a cozy feeling, being weird with Patton.

“My name is Logan.”

[~*~]

Virgil was not worried.

He was a witch. He studied every single spell put in front of him in the most complete way possible. All the weakness, all the dangers, all the consequences, all the afterwards effects, all the ingredients, the necessary rituals... Everything. His full nickname on the academy used to be Thunderstorm of Stormclouds due his habit of knowing all the details, all the books, as if he devoured every bit of information in front of him. His dorm was often full of sounds and explosions of his incessant attempts of replicating all the magic learned.

That is the why of ‘Thunderstorm’.

But never, ever, any accident happened in the classes he one day attended. Because he was careful. He understood the dangers of magic and its instability. He mastered protection spells and charms and it wasn’t before him to wait for all of his classmates to go to sleep to sneak out of the dorms and shove on a big part of the building a bunch of security magic.

The thought of that, even years later, if the professors searched carefully, they would still find some of his amulets between the walls’ small holes and webs on the ceiling still made a toothless smile cripple on his face.

So, back then, even if people were wary of him most of time, they still felt safe enough around him - and honestly, to Virgil that more than enough - that is why of ‘Stormcloud’.

It wasn’t that Virgil didn’t trust his professors or classmates. He was just prudent.

TOTALLY DIFFERENT FROM THOSE TWO KIDS!

Virgil huffed from the shadow he was sat, camouflaging his form as his gaze traveled to the watch on his pulse, confirming that one hour had already passed and the tiny fairy - Patton, as it seems - didn’t come back looking for any forgotten belongings. His form sunk in the darkness, submerging on every tree’s shadow in a ray of thirty meters to check the strong points on the protection spell he casted there on the last week. The tight knot on his stomach loosening with the acknowledgement that his entomagic triggered in the afternoon didn’t affect it, even if the guilt kept the knot firmly where it was.

The witch didn’t expect such a bigger reaction from them, when he first set the spell. It was something simple, really, only a few groups of spiders, ants and caterpillars appearing from a dull thud around the two unsupervised kids playing with magic and trying to crawl on them. A quick, unharmful and scary enough act to make them flee and hopefully go to get an adult next time they desired to practice their spell abilities.

But Virgil should’ve known how much terrifying an army of insects would be to a fairy, who immediately screamed as the scene before him settled and attached himself onto his friend – Logan, I think? – the fear apparently taking over his body, leading him to half fly and half stumble around the human, confusing and startled him enough to fall and kick in despair to get the most away as possible from the animals.

The adult immediately undid the spell, realizing how spectacularly it failed – like most of the things he tried to do, ha – however, he couldn’t just make the small whimpers and tears from the other’s two disappear in a ‘puff’ as well, his heart being squeezed with the scene of Logan trying to clumsily hug an obviously shaken Patton as him himself tried to stop his trembling limbs. And, even if Virgil deposited in a near, visible rock a small chocolate bar with curative properties and whispered soothing, soft words on the wind and made them fly to the others until they both were calm again, he couldn’t bring himself to go away back to his cottage like any other day.

He quietly accompanied the two as they ate his treat (not after Logan’s analyze and final word that it was safe, of course) and forgot the trap in order to play and have fun a few feet from its original location and then talk about stars and planets, a subject which seemed to interest both parts.

Virgil wasn’t good with social etiquettes, so it took some great days of searching to discover how to apologize in Fairies Language and to find the exact gift he was looking for.

He put the star map and the small pot of cider inside a trunk, visible enough to be seen only for the younglings when they arrived in the same spot they always met.

The witch took a deep breath, shaking his head. No. Nope. His work here was done. He put charms and spells around the place. They would be fine. They would be okay and even better as the adult stopped to put his nose on their business. There was absolutely no reason for him to keep extending it. He would go back to his cottage and to his normal life, just like it was and always had been.

Just like it was supposed to be. It had been fun to remember those times from the academy, when people trusted him and actually got a gleam on their eyes when he entered the place.

But this wasn’t his academy. Virgil had nothing to do with Patton and Logan. He should go.

And that was what he did.

[~*~]

To their and his own credit, it took about one month in its entirety before things came crashing down in an avalanche.

He was quite impressed, when he stopped to think about it. But on the day the events occurred? He was terrified.

And he knew, believe me, Virgil knew very well when the wind got a tad stronger than it usually was, causing the fairy to lose his balance and slightly hit the boy’s hands, not even hard enough to hurt any of them, but enough to cause a distraction and to let an extra drop of Waterfalls Tears – secure, easy to find, easy to lose. Extremely volatile when used together with Aqua Flower’s petals; Used on the Old Era due its beautiful pyrotechnics – on the mix. More specifically, the mix of Dandelions Roars, Rainbow Feathers and Aqua Flowers, that none of them, except for him, would notice the mistake before it was too late.

Before their eyes got wide as the mix started to spark, air full-filling in clicking sounds as the pot heated on the point its own porcelain almost melted, too much scared and distracted by the louds sounds that grew louder, louder, louder to acknowledge the trepidation of quick, desperate footsteps getting closer and closer of them.

Aqua Flowers and Waterfall Tears.

Virgil knew the dangers of magic. He knew that he spent hours planting and sneaking protective spells and amulets as well as charms, the exact ones he was trespassing right now, enough to keep them safe especially to moments like that without his help or interference.

Aqua Flowers and Waterfall Tears.

This is not safe. Run. They need to run.

He knew about explosions and scars and the consequences. He knew about despair, the paralyzing fear taking over their bodies, and yet the witch found himself wishing they would just run, go away, to be safe.

Why was he back?

Aqua Flowers Waterfall Tears.

Not safe. Not safe. They need to run, run,

RUN

They were just kids playing with things that they don’t entirely understand. They had nothing to do with him. They would survive. They would be okay, eventually. Things like that took some time, but they eventually heal. Everyone eventually heals. He has nothing to prove, nothing to owe to them.

Why the fuck was him back?

Patton screamed something he couldn’t understand with his heart beating pulsing on his ears, Logan firmly closed his eyes – so fearful, so wide – and covered his ears, curling on his own form as the sparkles and bolts shouted from the bowl. Virgil got faster, stronger.

He got close enough to involve both with his arms, hugging them close to his chest as his body turned in a dangerous slip, creating a physical barrier between the younglings and the explosion, which hit him more like a hot wave than something actually dangerous. Good. It had worked. He felt trembling forms under his touch, except the witch couldn’t really tell if it was Patton, Logan or his own wobbly hands.

“Shh, shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” His gaze, sharp, wary, darted to the ground behind him, looking for any hints of other danger lurking near, signing in relief when found nothing, altered breathing.

Oh stars, he was getting too old for this shit. “The explosion is over. It can’t hurt you anymore. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.” Only then, after being sure nothing really represented danger anymore, Virgil turned his attention to the kids in his embrace.

He first noticed the boy inside a brown shield, a coat of arms on the necklace hanging on his neck shining brighter or duller as Logan seemed to mumble something to it, small words and nods as he kept his hands firmly pressed on his ears. So the youngling kept an own protective amulet with him? Smart boy.

It was only when the witch stared the fairy glaring at him with gleaming, warm eyes, mouth slightly open that the gears on his mind looked to start functioning again.

‘…the kids on his embrace’

Oh no. No, no, no. He had just jumped on act, taken over by his instincts again and then screwed everything blowing his cover up during the process, hadn’t he?

Fuck.

The realization seemed to just got stronger as Patton open and closed his mouth a bunch of times, the tip of his wings fluttering in a way that probably was terror, leading the fairy to go up and down, up and down in maybe a despair to run away, but too much afraid to actively leave his friend alone with that scary random guy who jumped out a damn shadow and grabbed them out from nowhere.

Well done, Virgil. Well hecking done. Now you terrified those kids out of their mind. They can’t even speak properly anymore. You don’t even know how fairies or kids work! Now look at this, you broke them!

“It’s you!” To the one dressed with the long vestments typical of witches blinked astonished when the first thing to come out from the small being lips wasn’t a scream. Patton only beamed more, his smile increasing as he closed his eyes and concentrated. “It’s really you!!”

“Why did you do that?” Logan, who previously dissolved the magic shield asked, his tune free of discomfort, blank and curious.

“I…”

“Logan, Logan, it’s him!!” and, before any of them could add anything else, Patton continued amidst his clicks “It’s the kind witch!!”

[~*~]

“No.” He said firmly, internally wishing he seemed a whole lot sterner than he sounded.

Virgil was a skilled witch. He knew things enough to be a requested warrior at the beginning of his career, quickly turning on the most feared opponent due his tactics. He was the Stormcloud: fast, wary, unpredictable, soundless, using the environment in his favor with hidden traps and shadows for locomotion. His attacks were restless and never unfair. He was strong, resolute…

And he was NOT going to lose because of Puppy Eyes.

“No,” he repeated, trying to keep his composure when even Logan pouted, “give up, I’m not going to throw Patton in the air, especially just to see how the gravity works on a fairy.”

“But it’s an experiment!” Logan quickly pointed, frustration painting his tune as if Virgil couldn’t understand the importance of this statement. “This is what science is for!” Virgil sensed a small wave of deja vu, feeling like he had already heard this somewhere else.

“He can fall and injure himself and I’m not going to spend my ingredients to make a heal potion when I could avoid the injury in the first place.”

“But, but, but! I’m not going to fall, you're going to catch me. I know it! I trust you!” And then, in a totally unfair move Patton held Virgil’s index finger between his palms, somewhat increasing his pleading eyes, “If something goes wrong, I can fly!! Please, please, kind witch.”

Virgil growled, deviating his eyes to Logan.

“He is correct. This is what science is for. Please.” The boy adjusted his glasses, looking pointedly to him. “Science.”

Virgil growled louder, however extending his hand to the tiny fairy, who excitedly flied around his head a few times before changing his way to hug his left cheek, clicks and fluttering wings materializing his delight while Logan swung back and forth on his feet, fists shaking and a toothy smile painting his expression.

How Virgil was supposed to say no to that joy? The adult internally signed. These kids were going to be the end of his existence.

“Quick, before I change my mind.” He lied to cover his soft spot for them – not that would ever admit it – snorting as Patton quickly shoved himself on his palm and Logan hurriedly ran to get his notebook and pen from the blue, looking slightly old, backpack.

And, as Patton was thrown, his squeals of excitement along with the fast scribbles of Logan’s pen filled the air Virgil allowed a small grin to wander on his face.

[~*~]

“Mom is in the yard today.” Logan announced as he arrived, accepting the sandwich offered for Virgil, looking at its content and giving a happy hum as he found it had onions on it, picking one ring and eating it apart.

“Oh, that is fantastic, Lo!” Patton said, had already finished his snack and now taken a few Colorless Petals from his purse. “Will she stay there today?”

“Yes, I think. She will be waiting for me when I come back.”

“Great! Look, I finally found everything we need! We can start my trap again!”

“Does she like gardening?” Logan hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on the new ingredients, probably memorizing them to write later. Logan’s mom is still a mystery to Virgil, the most near of a responsible adult in this boy’s life being Remy, a guy who his magic almost danced from his body - leading cold chills to run the witch’s spine - when they first met right after the Aqua and Waterfall accident. The coat of arms Logan used was definitely from him, and by the way Remy’s questions about the accident were precise, it was definitely much more than just an ordinary and simple protection advice.

The witch would be much more defensive and wary on that day if he hadn't previous Magic checked the amulet and found only protection and kind, lovely feelings involving it. Patton, as a fairy, one of the most sensitive magic beings of the world, also seemed to trust the object, so he did his best to not attack or hiss at the stranger (even though both looked to have come to a silent agreement they didn’t like each other) when he showed up other times.

“We could search for some seed flowers to give her later, then. You think she would like it?” Logan nodded, humming contentedly a ballad about flowers and peaches. Virgil turned to Patton’s direction, frowning as he noticed the purse’s content. “Where are the Dandelions Roars? I thought they were the crucial part of the trap.”

Patton froze for a second, his breathing failing, but he quickly forced himself to act naturally, wishing the perceptive human hadn’t got his mood’s drop, “I, uhh, I found a new receipt of a new trap that I think will work better!” He wasn’t lying, “it’s a harder potion, so I will have to practice a bit more, but I’m sure this time I will succeed!”

“Oh, ok.”

[~*~]

The drop of Wind’s Whispers hit the pot and suddenly Virgil’s soul froze. After weeks of frowning and strange twitches on the pit of his stomach, he recognized the potion, no, the summoning they were doing.

“Patton!!” Loud, harsh tune. The fairy froze in the same place.

He knew it. He knew it he knew it knewitknewitknewit.

Virgil discovered everything.

He would try to stop Patton.

The tiny magic being held the porcelain and, in a flash, hid it in one of the thousands branches above them. “Please, please, don’t!” Virgil’s eyes were traveling from tree to tree, trying to find the object, his heart pounding, his head spinning and the fairy had plenty of knowledge of why.

It was risky, much riskier than anything anyone could ever try. But it was worth it. It was so worth it. Virgil would have to understand. “V, please, listen to me.”

“No, Patton!! You lied! You lied to me to do… that!” Virgil attempted to even his breathing, he would have to concentrate if he wanted to end this as quickly as possible. Unfinished potions were extremely hard to localize, but being a forbidden magic made it a tad easier. Patton got closer but he refused to deviate his attention. The adult gritted his teeth. He did not understand. “You’re not stupid, Patton. You KNOW what happened to everyone who tried to do that! You know about the rumors, about the marks and especially WHY this is a forbidden trap! You know all of this and don’t you dare to try to fool me again.”

That sentence hurt. It bruised almost as much as the hurt the witch tried to suppress from his glare. The fairy didn’t know he was clicking until this moment but the desperate sound was almost impossible to ignore now. “No, no, Virgil. I didn’t want to… The fairies, we have a new idea, a new way to make it and now it can work, Virgil! It can work and I can finally do something right and I have-”

“You HAVE? Patton? You have what? Put yourself, put me and Logan in danger just because of a dumb bunch of fairies that don’t even care about who you really are? Is it because of that you were trying to kill us all?”

There was a sound banging on the background. It was banging and pleading for attention but Virgil pushed it away.

“It’s not because of them! I don’t want to catch a star for any of them! I just want to-”

STOOOOOOP!

The sound harshly hit them as a strong wave of magic passed all of Virgil’s protection spells, breaking them as if they were made of glass and shoving the other two on the ground, both attention being deviated from the discussion and captured by Logan. A Logan involved by a thundering, navy waves of magic which fled and hit everything on its way. Virgil felt his voice disappear.

Logan wasn’t a human.

“Lo.” Patton was the first to speak, trying to crawl to his friend’s position even being clued on the ground with the waves’ force. ��Lo, dear, please, look at me, okay, kiddo? I am sorry we were screaming. Look at me, look at me.”

SHUUUUUT UUUUP!

“Everything is okay.” The pressure on his body made his voice hoarse, however the witch pushed forward, getting on his knees, arms in front of him in a calming gesture, “we’re okay. You’re okay. I need you to take deep breaths, okay? You can do it, I know you can.”

Logan shook his head, gasping. With the corner of his eye the adult realized the pot floating from the second tree on the left, its content starting to gleam in a strong red color, and sudden dizziness took over his body.

The trap had been activated.

“Of course, you can! You’re so, so strong and brave and really smart and cool. I believe in you, Logan. You can control it.”

The porcelain object slowly floated in Logan’s direction, looking as if it was devouring every bit of magic being thrown at it together with all the remnants of the environment. Virgil got up on his wobbly legs, gathering on his vestments all his attack potions and throwing at it from all the directions, activating on his run his protections charms and directing them to the trap with despair, the feeling only increasing as his efforts were broken by the force without even managing to touch the container.

The color started to grow brighter and brighter, a portal opening above it, consuming more and more of the uncontrollable magic. If Patton was sensing it, he resolved to ignore, using the opportunity to get closer from his friend, his voice in a constant tune, talking and calming, soothing and warm.

But all the three of them couldn’t ignore the moment everything stopped.

The harsh strong waves ceased its explosion and came back to Logan, who laid with a silent thud on Virgil’s arms. The leaves on the tree stilled, soundless, birds were nowhere to be seen, wind frozen midair, Patton’s voice was muted and even their beating hearts were paralyzed during this piece of time. An horrible ringing exploding in their ears.

The light turned white, stealing their breath.

And then everyone and everything was engulfed by it.

…

“Hello?”

Patton was the first to feel his senses come back. His eyelids trembled before opening and he had exactly a second to realize he was laid on Virgil’s coat.

Because on the other tick of the clock, his gaze was captured by the tall, smiling, magic – so, so, so magic. In every atom, every blink, every cosmic dust around him, they all screamed magic, magic, magic! - creature looking down at him. “What a hello, little fairy!”

And then Patton screamed. Because the last minutes of his life were the most horrible, nerve wrecking moments he ever imagined to feel. Because his friends were unconscious. Because he was scared, and more important than everything else…

Because his trap had worked.

“No, no, no, little nebula, calm down, calm down” The being began to move his hands without any idea of what to do with them, “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? AAAH!”

The star screamed because that sinister thing under the fairy moved, launching to a sitting position while it also screamed, and, on his turn, Virgil screamed because he got up to a big shadow hovering above him and moving closer to the fairy, that is also why his arm shooted to be around Patton, his chest vibrating as he hissed to the other being, eyes sharp and yet trying to focus on its human looking like features.

“Don’t you dare to touch him!”

“No, no, Virgil!” Patton finally saw the one who was captured by the trap, - by their trap – absorbing the way colorful dots shined on the other’s skin, how the eyes staring back at him were deep and antique and yet so joyful. He noticed how the hair floated playfully, as if the being had a kind of its own gravity, reminding the winged fairy of himself when he got really excited. Actually, Patton could feel some light brushes on his neck from his hair moving around. “Virgil, Virgil! It worked!! We did it!! We really did it!! We trapped a shooting star!” Then, his voice came out lower, as if he really acknowledged what this truly meant. “Now I can give Logan a wish.”

“A wish?”

“A wish, indeed! It’s a pleasure, the bestest of the pleasure, to finally get to know you earthlings! You’re really so cute, makes me want to squeeze your poor soft materialized face! By the way, everything is so soft and light here! No wonders such little gravity is enough to keep everything down. I bet I could carry your all, no, explode that, I can carry you and all the Earth’s content all together! That sounds fun. What is the most heavy thing you have here? I’m going to lift it. Ah, right, I almost forgot” He lightly hit the side of his head, his words coming out non stop, as if he didn’t need to breathe, what, looking at the situation, was much more likely it, “Star Roman Prince, at your service for one wish and one wish only! Even though I was captured by three of you, my power is too much, well,” he laughed, loud and boisterous, “powerful to interfere more than necessary on the planets. So, choose well, little ones.”

“Are you really a star?” and the young bipedal who had just woken up was so full of reverence that Roman felt the magic dance inside him as a lovely breeze. Yes, that was it! That was exactly it he was imagining, – for ages and ages wandering in space. Able to watch and graze at any planet he could ever imagine and desire, but never visit them without being invited – truly dreamed for the moment when he would finally be caught, no, be claimed for a terraqueous.

He was glad he didn’t need oxygen to survive, because the view would absolutely have his breath taken away. There were so much green and vivid colors and things to touch and life! So, so, so much life and companies and being who he could actually talk to.

Oh, my gracious Universe. Roman could talk with them. He could talk, sing, ramble, explain, complain, discuss and be answered.

It made him kind of want they never wished anything in the first place. This way he could stay more.

“Yes, I,” and then he jumped holding the sing-sang word as he took the form of a fairy in mid air, holding the other’s fairy hand and spinning him a few times – smiling wider as the other squealed excitedly – before turning into the height of the second shortest of the group, conjuring a small vision of a particular cozy Universe’s corner before growing to a perfect replicata of the adult there, booping his face and taking steps away as the taller hissed, finally stopping his melody, “am!”

The tiny fairy clapped happily, flying closer, “I am Patton!”

“A pleasure.”

“Stars are loud.” Logan pointed with his usual blank voice, then hummed, a toothless smile painting his features as he went to get his loyal notebook.

“Well, stars got to shine. ~”

“And we are going to have a conversation. A private conversation.” The second sentence came sharp, cutting any remark the cosmic magic being was about to say. Virgil’s eyes seemed to stare deep into his core before gently shoving the younglings aside.

“A star?” It was the first thing that came out from his mouth, directed especially to Patton, since the other boy seemed occupied taking new notes on his book. “You were trying to catch a shooting star for Logan?”

“He is… my first best friend. Ever. And he loves stars a big lot! And, and, and I thought… I’m not very good or powerful to give him a really great thing like a star, but… If I could catch a shooting star then he could have a wish and ask to see a constellation! Or to have one! Or to visit any planet! I just… wanted to give him something cool.”

“Patton, come here.” The witch extended his palm, carefully ruffling Patton’s hair when he sat there, his voice was soft. “You are a pretty cool guy, okay? Logan thinks that too.”

“Of course I do.” Logan said, yet writing even when a yawn escaped from his lips. Something about how nonchalant and sure he sounded, as if it was silly to doubt about it in the first place made Patton feel like his tiny form was full of Suns, again.

“And I hope you both use your wish wistfully.” The two kids brightened up right away, the fear hidden deep in their minds that the adult would somewhat forbid them to interact with the new person – kind of – dissolving in pure bouncing excitement. “But never ever again you two dare to ever think about trying to do something dangerous like that without warning me first!”

They nodded eagerly, bouncing up and down, making Virgil sign loudly, questioning all his life choices and shaking his hands to dismiss them “Go think about what you two want or whatever, your little demons.”

They didn’t take long before losing themselves in a joyful ramble with each other. Virgil took the opportunity to deviate his attention to the older one, who was trying to coach a very suspicious bird to come closer to him, narrowing his eyes. The guy reminded him those geniuses belonged to those old, with yellowish corners, tales where thousands of humans, monsters and magic beings were disgraced as their wishes were evilly twisted to go against them.

Well, he got closer from the other, who turned to him with a charming smile, this guy was about to have a big storm coming if he thought they would be so easily tricked.

“What.” said Roman.

“You…” Virgil started, warningly.

‘Got it.’ Roman thought, smugly and immediately expanding his brightness to an astonishing level.

“Done!” He announced, happily “Since you requested so eagerly for my company then that shall be!” He ignored the human irritated shout. “Oh, what an honor! That, of course, means I will stay together with you through your whole journey in this human form and therefore be free from my duty until your wish is fully granted! It will certainly be an awesome experience!”

“Awww, you asked for a new friend, V!” Patton didn’t seem sad for losing his chance, smiling wide and patting one of the human’s red cheeks.

“It was an accident!”

Logan made a low small upset sound on the back of his throat. “I desire to know how to properly set and activate the trap… We did it wrong. We messed up the steps and nearly didn’t put all the ingredients as asked, but it still worked, how?” He turned his head to Roman, who lowered his body a little in order to read the step-to-step spell written on the boy’s calligraph, he tsked in disapproval, taking the object and summoning a feather pen, starting to scratch a bunch of lines from the receipt.

“No, no, that is definitely wrong. That is the magic you were trying to use to get a shooting star? Damn, just don’t. You do this and you’ll definitely get a Supernova.” Then he stopped, his mouth slightly open, a lamp popping above his head, gleaming. “Oooh, that explains why Remus was always being claimed. I just thought earthlings didn’t like me.” For lonely and long thousands of years, “heh, silly me. Aaaand, there you go, kid! A brand new magic to get a brilliant Shooting Star as well as, of course, the wish.”

“Do you know a Supernova? Roman, that is so cool!!” Patton gasped.

“Of course I do, he is my brother.”

“The astros can be related? I didn’t expect it to be possible. How?”

Patton’s laughter and Logan’s questions made him smile, not that the witch would ever admit it. Well, maybe... maybe there was nothing more he could do now except keep an eye on them, right? Just because the star- no, Roman, - could turn out being dangerous too, sure. It has nothing to do he got utterly attached to the young ones. No, get off his thoughts, damn!

And, yes, things weren’t fully resolved. They haven’t thought about what to do about Logan’s outburst or how Patton’s managed to get the forbidden trap or to even fully understand what Roman was. However, as questions, answers and warm – that good warmth, which embraces your heart - feelings fled all around them, Virgil felt the anxious knot on stomach to ease a bit, relaxing before the scene of the rays of sunshine dancing with the Damsels of the Wind in between the leaves and trunks from the forest. A calm breeze attempted to carry all the smiles and grand gestures to a faraway land as the reminiscent magic began to disappear, and, along with all of this…

They were okay.

…

The entire ground trembled when Remy suddenly appeared between them, even if his clothes were a mess, hair uneven and face marked by brown drops which could be just dirt on the best scenario his crossed arms sent shivers down almost everyone's spine – Roman’s ‘nice’ fell on deaf ears – and his voice wasn’t boisterous or even loud, but echoed, cutting the thick silence skillfully.

“What the HECK happened here?”

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louloubabys1992 · 3 years

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Five Favs of 2020

I was tagged by the amazingly talented @mercurial-madhouse to do this and I thank you for it as its been a while since I’ve looked at my fics or any of my work really....so here goes :D

RULES: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work.

1-Hang there like fruit, my soul/Till the tree die

Fic summary;

''You still want me?'' he asks, voice thick. ''Yes,'' Harry's answer is absolute, almost defiant. ''But my hands are empty,'' Louis shakes his head. ''I've got nothing to offer you.'' ''I don't care about that. Do you see my hands?'' Harry asks before he cups Louis' face. His touch is gentle. He's always gentle when it comes to Louis. ''When I'm not holding you, I feel empty, but like this,'' he presses closer until their faces are inches apart. He caresses the apple of Louis' cheeks and that's when Louis realizes that he's spilled tears and Harry's wiping them. He didn't even notice; too busy looking into Harry's kind, kind, kind alpha eyes. ''I feel like I'm holding the world and I don't feel empty anymore,''

Louis knows he's a defective omega. He knows its also not his fault but it is what it is. He takes the world head on even when the world is unkind to him. Not Harry though; stubborn as he is, he doesn't back down, not when it comes to Louis

Note;

Those who read this fic know that this is my first ever abo fic. I wrote this in a time when I thought the world was ending. I had been on lockdown like the rest of us with not much to do and yet all the time in the world to finally do what I’m truly passionate about, which is writing. I don’t know if anyone noticed this but the difference between this fic and my latest one was six months (aside from a 16 chapter fic which I was writing almost simultaneously with ‘’Hang there’’ so for it to get any kudos or comments at all is quite unbelievable to me and I am really proud of the journey it took me on. It was one bumpy but amazing ride.

2-As the snow flies

Fic Summary:

’'I can’t sleep without you anymore. Got used to you.’’ Harry is always like that, so transparent with his feelings, so abundant with his love. He cuddles Niall the most, always stares up at Zayn like he’s something cool and out of this world, always attentively serious with Liam and always helping Leona out in the kitchen. He’s not so different from the shy, timid boy he’d first met, still stands pigeon toed when he’s waiting for Louis and the lads to go home after school, still stands with his shoulders all hunched but then he sees Louis and suddenly he’s taller, brighter, smile and dimples on full display.

He’s so beautiful.

-Or the fic in which Louis and Harry are foster kids who get separated long before they could even understand what loving each other means. They were so young and since then, circumstances had made Louis tough, had forced him to harden up. What happens when he and Harry meet again?

Notes:

Probably the easiest fic I’ve ever written because the idea had been swirling in my head for years, I just never had the time to sit down and put pen on paper (or letters on a word document hahah). It’s not for the faint of heart, I know, but I’ve always wanted to write it and flush it out of my system and when I did finally start writing it, it wasn’t as hard as writing my other fics. Like, I knew how it would end, I knew what scenes I had to cut out, what fit, what did not fit and I have to say, even though the outcome is not the way I had imagined it at first but it is everything it was meant to be in the end :D

3-The Boy with the Tin Chest and a Glass Heart

Written for the @bottomlouisficfest

Fic summary:

Alpha Harry Styles, world-renowned author of fairy-tales, is being persuaded by the Beta, Liam Payne to hire a new illustrator. Since Harry’s own illustrations are too graphic for what is supposed to be children’s stories, Liam feels the need is dire. Omega Louis does not agree with Liam since he believes that Harry’s stories are fine just the way they are. Of course this has nothing to do with Louis being totally biased or totally head over heels for Harry. It certainly has nothing to do with being jealous of the mysterious omega illustrator Liam has in mind to team Harry up with. Seriously, it has nothing to do with that at all. Nothing, absolutely nothing, zilch, nada. Yeah...

Notes;

During my time of self isolation while the world tore itself apart, I busied myself with writing and watching k-drama series to distract from being anxious and swept by it all. It did wonders for me, occupying my time like that as I have always loved writing and this year, I found a new love for korean actors and their dramas and I have to say, their stories have such amazing plot lines. This fic is heavily inspired by one k-drama series called ‘’its okay not to be okay’’ starring Kim Soo Hyun and Seo Yea-ji (I hope I got the names spelled right). Please do watch it if you haven’t already :D

4-The Importance of being Earnest

part of the @1000feelingsfics

fic summary;

Harry cannot help but pay extra attention to Louis' order, even if it is just a warm cup of tea with a dash of milk and no sugar. He also makes sure that the Danish Louis asks for is warm and fresh from the oven and not the one in the display, even if it means delaying Louis a bit when he fetches said Danish from the kitchen. It's all worth it when Louis smiles his crinkly smile at him before he rushes off to work.

Man, he's hot, he cannot help but think.

Or Harry is a barista who's been harboring a crush on Louis for months. Little does he know that Louis actually likes him back.

Note:

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before but this fic was included in a podcast which has never happened to me before and I am so so so happy and proud that my fic got that type of attention (or any attention at all hahahaha) so like, it is quite special to me and honestly, a lot of the fics written for the @1000feelingsfics challenge are really, truly incredible

5-Bed of Nails

fic summary;

Louis has been keeping a secret for a very long time. The boys don’t know because he doesn’t tell them, not because he doesn’t want to but because he doesn’t think they need to know or be bothered by his troubled past. When they find out, they look at Louis differently. But Harry doesn’t. No, he loves Louis and will do anything in his power for his love to find its way through the cracks.

Or the one where Louis has a troubled past that catches up to him and Harry does his best to save him from it.

Notes:

This is my longest fic ever, not just in chapter count but in time (it took me actual years to finish it, whew, what a journey). A lot of things happened while writing this fic but one event that stands out among the rest; I lost my younger brother back in 2016. He was only 23 years old. I started writing this fic in 2015 and finished it January 2020. Losing George crippled me both mentally and emotionally. I had no power, no inspiration and definitely no will to do anything but try and seem okay for the sake of my grieving parents. I bottled it all up to try and seem strong in front of them and in return, I forgot about anything else, including my passions and my hobbies. It took me a herculean effort to finish this fic and I mostly did it because writing to me, is like an itch. I can stop writing sure but every once in a while, that itch that nags at you like an incessant person knocking, begging you to just open up the door on the swirl of words blasting your brain in the middle of the night, begging you to just do something, doesn’t ever completely go away. So, I didn’t ignore it and decided to finish it, no matter how long it took. The itch to write went away after that and a sense of calm and accomplishment took over instead. I miss George till this day. Nothing will ever turn off that feeling but writing to me, in any form, whether in my journal or fics or whatever, does have the power to push me through the day.

And there goes; my 2020 fics. I want to tag a lot of people but I think most people I know here already did it but if you see this or read this, take that as your cue to do it too. We all need some self love in this world and self love is what we deserve.

Happy new year everybody :D

#fics #larry fics

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dhwty-writes · 4 years

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Of Witchers, Bards and Broken Hearts

So, uhh, I saw @spielzeugkaiser‘s art. Wanted to write a one-shot. It got out of hand. Decided to split it into separate parts. It got even more out of hand. I am now, apparently, writing a full-length fic. Anyways. Have the prologue?

Summary: Six months have passed since Geralt and Ciri found each other. Since then, they have been on the run from... well, everyone, basically. Geralt is tired, Ciri is hungry, Roach is dead. And then they stumble across a very particular viscounty named Lettenhove. The problem? Geralt broke the Viscount’s heart on a mountain and Julian ‘Jaskier’ Alfred Pankratz, a bard, a friend, a lover, is slow to forgive.

part 2

Read on AO3

The Viscount de Lettenhove had a... a reputation to say the least. He had left his home when he had been fourteen, off to Oxenfurt to study the Seven Liberal Arts, vowing never to return. That alone had been seen as less than ideal by a great many of people – though their choice of words hadn’t been nearly as nice. He had redeemed himself, in a way, by graduating summa cum laude four years later. He had gambled it away again by disappearing not a month later without so much as a word. And by leaving his family and subjects to figure out that the famous Jaskier was, in fact, their Julek by themselves

It still surprised him a great deal that he had gotten away with it for seven years until he had played at a Cintran banquet that had become very famous – though regrettably not by his doing. The only reason he hadn’t been declared dead in the meantime was that he had occasionally used his real name when times were especially hard, he supposed. Once he had been discovered, however, his family had managed to bully him into writing a few letters a year, at least. His vows of staying away, on the other hand? He had been even more adamant on keeping them.

No, there was only one person in this world who he would ever break them for. And that was also, coincidentally, the only person who would never ask it of him to do so.

Or so he’d thought.

Julian ‘Jaskier’ Alfred Pankratz had returned to Lettenhove not quite one and a half years ago on a beautiful spring's eve, the cherry trees in full bloom and the crops swaying in the breeze. For his family, it had been a jubilance. For Jaskier, it had felt like bitter defeat.

For the people of Lettenhove, it had been a shock. The loving, loud and ludicrous boy they had known had never returned from the Path. Instead he was a suddenly a man grown, sullen and sombre and silent who sought solace in his siters' embraces.

There had been many rumours in those first few months after he had ridden up to the gates demanding entrance about what had happened out there. They spoke of friendship and fervour, of affection and agony, of hundreds of heartbreaks and lifetimes of loyalty. Of course, none of them were true, strictly speaking. But many of the whispered guesses came so close to veracity it hurt all the same.

It had gotten better, though. There had been no other choice. He was the Honourable Master of Lettenhove and member of the Oxenfurt Academy's Faculty of Most Contemporary History whether he liked it or not and there was a war threatening them all.

This time there was no university to escape to, no witcher to follow, no destiny calling. For the first time in his life, Jaskier had run into a dead end. For the first time in his life, he could no longer run from his duty.

And now he was standing in his father's study, wearing his father's sword and looking across his father's lands as the sunset tinted them in the embers of a dying day, the most beautiful mixture of blood red light and bruise purple clouds above golden fields and emerald forests. ‘There’s a story in this,' the thought startled him. ‘Has the queen put on her ruby glasses to see the world as it had been before her lover scorned her? Has the dragon come to bathe the world in fire? Has-‘ He quickly pushed those thoughts away before they could make a home in his mind. ‘I must not.’

Before it might have been enough to inspire him for a new ballad. ‘It would have been enough for a thousand.’ Before returning. Before the war. Before... everything.

Now he could control the itch in his fingers fairly well. It was not just that his life in Lettenhove did not compare to a muse as magnificent as his travels. As magnificent as- 'No, don't think about it, it just hurts.'

It was also that for the first time in his life, Jaskier considered if his father had the right of it. What use had the arts for him now that he was- well, not old, most certainly not old, he had barely seen thirty-four years go by - 'Gods above, already?' What use had the arts for him now that he was settled? He had responsibility now. A responsibility to the land, the name, the people. To his legacy.

'I viscount's legacy shan't be telling a witcher's tales,' he could still hear his father's voice.

'Fuck you, father,' he thought. 'And stay in your grave where you belong.' He would love to continue telling a witcher's tales. The thing was, however, he couldn't anymore. Geralt had made that very clear.

'If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.' The words still stung as much as they had on the day the witcher had first spoken them into existence.

The other thing was, Jaskier couldn't really leave Lettenhove anymore. The disappearance of an heir apparent was one thing. The disappearance of a Viscount quite another. His father, the bastard, had died, and bound him to these lands.

'My lands,' he had to remind himself again. It was still weird to think that, his lands. For so long Lettenhove hadn't been anything his. Not his residence, that had been whatever dry spot they could find. Not his own, that had been his father's. And certainly not his home, for that had been at Geralt's side. But Geralt had sent him away and he had returned so now everything was different. Oh, what would he give for the ability to reverse time.

‘That’s useless,’ he had to tell himself. ‘He’d send you away again. And again, and again, and again. Quit thinking about that which you cannot change.’

There was a timid knock on the door to his study that forced him to abandon his melancholy thoughts. He did that a lot, these days. Brood, that was. It wasn't something he had ever liked to do before, but now there was scarcely anything else to occupy his mind with and- he was doing it again. "Come in," he called without turning around. He had long learned to tell the members of his household apart by the sound of their steps.

"Milord," said shy Marta with the shuffling feet, "I am sorry to disturb you..."

The viscount spared the idyllic landscape one last glance before he sighed and turned around. "You did not. What is it?"

"There, uh-" Marta looked away. "There's a witcher at the gates. He's asking to see you."

Jaskier frowned. 'A witcher?' He forced the feeling of euphoria from his mind before it could make itself comfortable. "Tell him to go away." For a moment he paused, allowing himself to wonder which one it might be. 'Do I know him?' Then again, he was not really in the mood for visits and a visit it had to be for there were no monsters in Lettenhove. "And that we are in no need of witchering."

The young servant shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "He's very persistent, milord."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 'Of course, he is.' "Then be persistent, too."

"I mean, I wasn't there, I wouldn't know how persistent he is but that is what Marin told me when he came to fetch me, so-" He ground his teeth. The darting of her eyes and her incessant babbling set his nerves on edge and made him lose his own train of thought. 'Is that what I'm like?' he wondered for a moment. He was half of a mind to yell at her when she finally spoke again: "Marin also told me to tell you that, uh, the witcher claims to know your, um- your son."

Jaskier froze as an icy hand wrapped around his heart, gripping tightly. "My son?" he asked a bit confused. "What did you say was his name again?"

"He didn't give us one."

'Smart man,' he thought appreciatively. "Well, then, what does he look like?"

"Like a witcher?" she tried.

He groaned: "Marta-"

"I wasn't there, milord!" she said defensively again. "I only got a glimpse at him, I swear it. But a witcher he was, large and scary, with two swords and his hood all up in his face. He wasn't alone, though."

"A horse?" he concluded but she shook her head.

"A boy, I think. Maybe he stole the child."

Jaskier sighed loudly and massaged his temples. "Witchers do not steal children," he said slowly. No matter how often he told them, there was nothing he could do about superstitions that had been in place for generations. "If you didn't see him, was there at least anything else you heard?"

"Sure!" she answered. 'Melitele's tits, finally!' "It doesn't make a lot of sense, though. He told us to thank you for the invitation."

He waved his hand expectantly. Marta didn't answer. "Was that all?" he asked impatiently.

"And that he's run out of apple juice."

He frowned. "Apple juice?" he repeated incredulously. Why on earth would a witcher come to his gates to tell him he was lacking apple juice of all things- 'Oh.' Of course. Jaskier ground his teeth forcefully.

"He hasn't heard then," he gritted out. Well, that was just his luck, wasn't it? Of course, it had to be the only witcher in the whole wide world he definitely did not want to see to come knocking on his door. And the child? It couldn't be, could it? There had been rumours but he hadn't given them any credit until now. But if they were true- "Fine," he said after a long while and straightened his back, steeling himself as if for battle. "Send him in."

Oh, and what a battle it would be.

#My writing #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier fanfiction #it's angsty #angst with a happy ending #though that will take a while #of witchers bards and broken hearts #OWBABH

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this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms · 4 years

Text

The One || Big Time Rush ||

Requested: hi !! i saw that you were taking requests on big time rush imagines, ( and i still hope you do ! ) so could you possibly do one where reader feels frustated that James doesn't realise that reader is ' the one ' ( as in the girl of his dreams ) that he's been looking for ?

Pairing: James Diamond x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 1.2K

A/N: lol I was watching BTR for inspiration and then it hit so fast I got whiplash. I really like this one and its so hard to for me to write something and actually like it. But this, this is a masterpiece! So I hope you, who requested it, and everyone else like it too!

It was a knock on your door that pulled your attention away from the script you were reading over. Your eyebrows furrowed as confusion got the better of you and you wondered who was knocking at this time of night. It was nine at night and you would’ve thought most people we’re already home or at some Hollywood party. Not standing outside your door knocking frantically like the world was ending and they so desperately needed to get inside.

You set your script down on your coffee table before getting up and walking over to the door. You opened the door seeing the one and only James Diamond standing on the other side. He looked exasperated and pushed past you to come inside your apartment.

“Come right in,” You mumbled as you closed your door.

You turned around and saw him plop down on your couch, arms crossed as he huffed out in frustration. You walked back over, sitting on the couch adjacent to his. You sat quietly as you waited for him to speak but he wouldn’t until you asked what was wrong. He was a drama queen like that.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

You knew what was wrong, another date gone wrong for sure. “I am not shallow or arrogant! I am a ridiculously good looking pop star and any girl would be lucky to have me. So why doesn’t she want me?” He complained. Although that last part came out a little more soft spoken, like he was genuinely hurt.

He hunched over in defeat, this cute pout on his lips that made your heart swoon. But his words made your eyes roll as he complained about the same thing once again. Another girl who wasn’t the so dubbed one he’s been looking for. You loved your best friend, truly, but you were so tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. Especially since you could do nothing but sit there and listen. When really, all you wanted to do was yell at him for wasting his time on all those other girls when ‘the one’ he was looking for was right in front of him.

Yes, you. You were hopelessly in love with James, ever since you accidentally bumped into him in the lobby when you first arrived. Back then he immediately hit on you but you shot him down quickly. Its not like you didn’t think he was cute or anything, if it was any other time you would’ve definitely gone for it. But back then you were focusing on your acting career rather than relationships. You had moved to LA for that very purpose but also to get away from a relationship that ended badly. Which was why you weren’t so quick to jump into the next one.

But James, being James, was relentless and continued to pursue you until you drew the line. You told him about you bad relationship and asked if the two of you could just be friends. He was reluctant but agreed and now he was one of your bestest friends, along with the rest of BTR. But he was the best friend you were utterly in love with and couldn’t do anything about. Cause now, he thought of you as nothing more than a friend, just another one of the guys. He confided in you about his girl problems and you did your best to give advice, even if it broke your own heart.

“She’s right, you can be shallow and arrogant sometimes,” You started, earning a glare from him. “Hold on, let me finish. But she’s wrong to only see that. I mean, you’re sweet and funny, and you care about your friends so much that you’ll do anything for them. And if she can’t see all of that, then she’s not the one.”

“Okay but if I’m all that why I can’t I find the right one?” He whined.

Because the right one is right in front of you but you’re too much of an idiot to see that! That’s what you wanted to say but instead you opted with. “Maybe you’re just looking too hard? You can’t rush things like this, you have to let them come naturally. You can’t force the right one, you have to let her come to you.”

He groaned out in frustration, obviously that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. But it was the best thing you could say without revealing your own frustration.

“But that’s too hard! Why can’t she just show up now?” He questioned, that whiny tone still in his voice.

You hadn’t meant to explode, you really hadn’t, but you couldn’t deal with his incessant whining anymore.

“Oh my god, you freaking idiot! If you just opened your eyes you would see that your one has been in front of you this whole time. Me! God, why can’t you see how in love with you I am? But no, instead you complain about how Jessica wasn’t the one, or how Amber didn’t have—“ You didn’t get to finish because something shut you up.

Or rather someone. James’s lips were pressed against yours in a sweet, soft kiss. Once you understood what was happening, you were quick to kiss back. Lips moving slowly against his as sparks flew and butterflies fluttered in your stomach. James pulled away first, lips making a soft smacking sound as he did. You were left completely speechless and it took you a few seconds to compose yourself.

“Wow, that was exactly how I imagined it,” He spoke up surprising you.

You leaned back in shock, he had imagined your first kiss together? “W-Wait...what? I-I didn’t think you liked me, at least not like that anymore.”

“Are you joking? I’ve practically been in love with you since you walked into the Palm Woods. But then you said you just wanted to be friends and then you became my best friend. I didn’t want to ruin that by telling you how I felt. And I was willing to be just friends if it meant being near you,” He explained.

Your heart melted at his words and you couldn’t help how your heart thumped against your chest. “I guess we were both being idiots. But when you started talking about all those girls, I thought we were nothing but friends.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I just thought that if I went out with all those girls, one of them would take my mind off of you. But instead I found myself comparing them all to you. So yeah, guess we both were being idiots,” He told you. “But now that we both know how we feel about each other, how about I take you out on a date?”

“I’d very much like that. And for now, we can make up for lost time,” You replied.

He grinned widely and nodded before leaning in to kiss you once again. You wasted no time in kissing back and let him push you down onto your couch.

#oneshots #oneshot #one shots #one shot #big time rush #big time rush one shots #big time rush one shot #big time rush imagines #big time rush imagine #james diamond #james diamond one shots #james diamond one shot #james diamond imagines #james diamond imagine #james diamond x reader #james x reader

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ponydera · 3 years

Text

TW: Anxiety/Depression/Paranoia

You wake up like you do every day and lay in bed contemplating on whether or not to get up. You roll over to your side and pick up your phone; it’s nine am. You open up the phone menu and scroll through several social media apps before you realize you are getting hungry and finally pull yourself out of bed. You make your way to your kitchen, contemplating on what to have, before you grab an apple and start eating that. Eating an apple was your safest bet: if you had toast with eggs and bacon you’d have to worry about when the toast would pop, and the inevitable jump from that, and then there was the sizzling and crackling of the eggs and bacon in a pan that would keep you on edge. And heaven forbid you try to microwave something to eat and the whirring and incessant dinging that it was done irritate your nerves.

You finish off the apple pretty quickly and thought about just going back to bed but then you remembered how you promised your therapist that you would try to get some more fresh air. Plus, getting dressed every day is supposedly supposed to help with your mental health. Or so they say. So you get dressed and you go to put your shoes on, and your right shoe is bigger than it was the last time you put it on. Maybe it was just your imagination and you needed to tie it tighter, after all, what else would be the reason for the increase in size. You put the extra space in the shoe to the back of your mind and leave the house and like always, triple-check to make sure that the door was definitely locked behind you.

It’s a hot day outside and there’s no breeze making the walk to the nearby park even more unbearable than it usually would be. You can’t tell if the echo of your steps are really yours or someone else possibly walking nearby, the birds suddenly flee the trees and squirrels run off at your approach so maybe the crunching of leaves and twigs are from them, and the insects seem surprisingly quiet since they’d usually be buzzing around in the heat. Few cars pass on the road beside you and you can’t help but wonder if something is wrong because there’s so little people out and about on what would normally be considered a beautiful day. You hear a bell ring, startling you from your thoughts, and you look around to see a biker coming up behind you to pass. You take a few seconds to recover from the shock that you weren’t expecting and then continue on your way.

You eventually make it to the park where there’s a small convenience store and a mom-and-pop ice cream shop for campers and park goers can rest and get a few things they might have forgotten. The campground has a few RVs and the park has a couple of families there for a barbeque while their kids play on the playground. You decide it’s too hot to just turn around so you make your way into the convenience store for a drink. There’s only one worker up at the counter and it seems as if she has nothing better to do than stare at you while you pick out a drink. You don’t really know if she’s staring at you though because you can’t bring yourself to look but you can feel a stare at the back of your head. You grab a lemonade and quickly make your way to the counter. “Will this be all?” She asks and you just mumble a “yeah” not able to keep eye contact so you look to the cigarettes behind her and then the cash register display with your total. You awkwardly wait to swipe your card as the machine prompts you to donate to a local hospital. You still feel her eyes on you. As quickly as possible, you finish the transaction and leave, opening the bottle of lemonade and downing a third of it right away. After all, you only had an apple for breakfast, you didn’t even drink any water so you’re probably dehydrated.

And as if your mind read your stomach’s thoughts, it started to rumble. But the only place around was the ice cream shop or going back into the convenience store and there was no way you could bring yourself to face that stare again, so the ice cream shop it was. Luckily for you it was empty, that gave you time to think about what you wanted. It seemed like the shop workers were still busy opening up so they don’t pay you much mind as you peer through the glass at the selections. But then a bell rings and what seems like several families of campers comes into the shop. They must have been the ones at the barbeque or the ones in the RV, but it didn’t really matter because the small shop was suddenly crowded with people. People wanting to look at the display also, people wanting to know if you have ordered yet or if you’re still waiting to order, people waiting for you to be gone so they can get their ice cream. Suddenly losing all interest in having ice cream, but not wanting to get the side-eye for leaving without buying anything, you order two scoops of vanilla in a waffle cone. Again, you can’t make eye contact with the worker and just mumble your thanks as they hand you your ice cream and you swipe your card.

You escape into the heat of the day with your ice cream in one hand and a lemonade in the other. Not the best of combinations but it would have to work because there’s no way you could go back for something else. So, you head to the nearest park bench that’s farthest away from the kids still playing on the playground and you sit to eat your ice cream. The taste makes it the most enjoyable part of your day so far, giving you a little bit of comfort in an otherwise anxious day. You quickly make your way through the ice cream, you were much hungrier than you thought, and you get up to head home; the best part of this whole excursion.

You don’t bother to deviate from the path you came on, too many possible unknowns, plus this was the shortest distance back to the house. Suddenly, a dog and a walker turn the corner towards you. You keep walking but can’t stop staring and the dog looks like it’s trying to make its way to you. When the dog gets close enough, it jumps to try and get your attention. The walker says the dog’s name is Milo and that you’re free to pet him. So you give your thanks and then bend down to give Milo the full attention he deserves. You pet him for a few minutes and then start to wonder how long you’re allowed to pet him, surely you’re holding up his walker from wherever they were going and that makes you realize that the walker’s attention had been on you and your interaction with the dog this whole time. You start to panic since you aren’t sure if it’s polite to keep petting or when you should stop, so you stand up immediately, give your thanks once again, wave at Milo and speed walk away.

You don’t stop until you get to your house and shakily unlock your door; you’re not used to high-intensity walking on a really hot day so you are out of breath when you arrive at home. You get into the air-conditioned house and quickly shut the door and locked it behind you. As you catch your breath in the darkened living room, you down more of your lemonade that has started to get warm. You turn on a light and look around; for some reason it feels like everything in your living room has been shifted by at least one inch. You sit down to turn on a show you’ve seen five times to relax and it’s almost like the TV is closer than it usually is. You get up and make sure your entertainment system is pushed against the wall and you move you couch back a bit, but when you sit down this time, the TV seems too far away. Maybe you were just imagining it being too close. You kick of your regular sized left shoe and your larger-than-usual right shoe and curl up on the couch for the rest of the day, promising yourself that you don’t have to go out again until tomorrow.

_________________________________________________________

Hey guys, I'm trying out writing prompts and I'm trying to get my average word count up. Today's prompt was inspired by my anxiety, depression, and paranoia and I figured I'd put it all in one package. I hope you guys enjoy and any constructive criticism is welcome!

#writeblr #writing #writing prompt #anxitey #depression #paranoia #mental health

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trashassassin · 3 years

Text

Two Halves of a Whole | 6: Impressions and Honesty (Vergil x Reader)

LORDT. The original prompt that inspired this one was “hairbrush spankings” and the idea got completely away from me, but in a good way, I’d reckon. I swear to god I didn’t mean to make it this long, and yet, here we all are.

In this installment, you and Vergil finally begin to reconcile after the mysterious happenings that have yet to be named that I’m sure everyone has already figured out by now, with the help of everyone’s favorite beverage: red wine. Or my favorite, anyway.

Extremely heavy on the fluff. Like, this is on par with some of my Leon stuff, if I’m being honest.

Word Count: 4780 (jfc)

Warnings: Mild Language, Suggestive Themes, Sweet and Fluffy as Cotton Candy

At last, the day had come that Vergil would return to your apartment, only this time, not in a dream, as he had the previous time. You'd finally gotten him to sit down with you and have an honest conversation about what happened, in no small part due to Dante's incessant urgings.

You were aware that they had been selfishly motivated. The fact of the matter was, he simply couldn't take the two of you constantly hovering around each other any longer, waiting for the other to speak first.

You had also found yourself growing fed up with the whole thing, but Dante had you beat in the confrontation department by far, so he had been the first to speak up. And a part of you was glad that he did. But another part was terrified of where it would take you.

You were well aware of the fact that your coffee table had gotten suitably clean quite some time ago, and yet, you continued to rub the cloth over it as though a prize would pop out from its surface, stopping to glance up at the clock every so often.

How surprised you were to find that only another single minute had passed each time.

You'd been attempting to occupy your mind with meaningless tasks to stop it from racing. This would be the first time you would be properly alone with Vergil and this thought scared you, even if you weren't entirely sure why.

Your fear of confrontation definitely had a lot to do with it. Raw, honest conversation was no more a strong suit of yours than it was of his and you were worried that the two of you would spend the entire evening silently staring at the wall.

So, that was it. You were pacing around your apartment in terror, your heart beating out of your chest, because you were afraid of a bit of awkwardness.

Once you'd finally accepted the cleanliness of your furniture, you made a quick run upstairs to deposit the cleaning cloth into the laundry hamper before you forgot, because nothing would make him get fed up with you and go home like a single, out of place washcloth cluttering up your living space.

You rolled your eyes at your thought process, but if you left the cloth out, you knew that it would be the only thing you'd be able to focus on for the entire evening.

As you reached your bedroom, your mind was bombarded with another slew of issues.

Was it inviting enough? It had been a long time since you'd had anyone up there, so making it presentable wasn't at the forefront of your mind anymore. But it was a bit presumptuous of you to act as though he was going to see it, wasn't it? Was it even advisable for the two of you to sleep together at this point?

You suddenly had a great many questions, none of which anyone, least of all yourself, could give you an answer to.

You would have to play this entire thing by ear. There was no guide you could follow, and there was certainly no way you could predict his reactions to anything given the way he'd been behaving thus far.

Still, you decided it couldn't hurt to tidy up your room a bit just in case. You even brought out the scented candles again for the first time in quite a while and lit one before heading back downstairs.

You were reasonably satisfied that everything was in order, though you were sure that you would find something that was out of place after he'd arrived.

You had to stop and consider what your end goal was here. It wasn't as though it were necessary to impress him. If anything, he should be the one scrambling to make a good impression on you.

And yet, even after everything that had happened, all of your worries boiled down to the simple fear that he wouldn't like you anymore. You found him a bit intimidating now, even if it was irrational. For all intents and purposes, he was the same person he had been, but you found yourself questioning more often than you would have liked if you were still worthy of him. He was so powerful and you were so, well, ordinary, and that was a fact about you that would never change.

You did want to impress him; you wanted that very much. But you were also afraid of overdoing it. You didn't want to appear desperate.

You were even considering whether or not preparing a meal would be seen as excessive. Surely, that was the polite thing to do whenever one was expecting guests, so you put your insecurities aside in favor of common sense.

You'd hardly eaten anything all day, given the fact that your nerves had your stomach tied in knots, so this would benefit you as well as him. There wasn't a whole lot that sounded palatable right now, so you would have to decide on a dish that you had the ingredients for and would also be able to force down once it was finished.

You opened the fridge and sighed. How long had it been since you'd gone grocery shopping? Much too long, clearly. Such mundane tasks had fallen by the wayside as of late.

But, you did have a few things left. As you examined the ingredients before you, you came up with a plan. Spaghetti would be good. It was inoffensive, mindless, and not too showy.

You took out everything you would need—a package of ground beef, which you made sure to sniff in case it had gone off, a couple of onions, and some bell peppers—then brought them over to the counter so that you could begin to prepare them.

As you went to close the fridge, you noticed something else that may be of use to you: a bottle of red wine that you'd purchased quite some time ago sitting atop its surface. You'd never been much of a drinker, but you figured that there had never been a more appropriate time than now to break it open.

Perhaps this was a bit shameful, but at this point, you would have done just about anything to take the edge off while you waited.

You opened the bottle and poured yourself a glass, then got to work.

Cooking was typically a relaxing activity for you, one of several hobbies that whisked you away from the outside world, if only temporarily, but on this particular evening, it had no such effect. You took a large gulp of your wine and considered your options.

Perhaps some music would help. You lifted your phone and scrolled through it a bit to find a playlist that would set you more at ease.

You went with something instrumental before returning your attention back to your chopping.

You took a sideways glance at the clock on the stove once you'd finished with the onion. You still had a good thirty minutes left, and you weren't sure if this should make you feel relieved or concerned. What you did feel, however, was a healthy mix of both.

At least you wouldn't have to rush through your cooking.

You were already beginning to feel the effects of the wine once you'd finished chopping all of the vegetables. Your heart had stopped racing, at least, but you were beginning to worry about embarrassing yourself by the time you'd finished the entire glass.

But, as you thought about it more, you supposed the time for embarrassment was over. The two of you had already been brutally honest with each other and you figured that there wasn't much either of you could say at this point that would drive the other away.

You tried to convince yourself of this as you continued with your cooking.

Is spaghetti too boring? What if he doesn't like it? Does he even need to eat? I've never seen him eat before. Dante definitely seems to like eating. But what if he only does it because he wants to appear more human?

You slammed your utensils down on the counter and took a deep breath, willing yourself to relax. You were going to survive even in the event that he didn't enjoy your spaghetti.

But it wasn't about the spaghetti, and you knew that. You recognized that your choice of what to serve for dinner was much less consequential than, well, everything else, so it was much easier to give that all of your focus as it was something you could easily control.

You set the ground beef on the stove to brown, then finished off your glass of wine and contemplated getting another. No, you would save that for when he arrived, if he wanted one as well. You didn't want to be the only one drinking, and you certainly didn't want to be the only one drunk.

What would that be like? You had a lot of difficulty imagining a scenario in which Vergil would have the time, let alone the desire, to get drunk and you were very curious as to how such a thing would affect him.

You almost wished you'd asked Dante for advice before going through with this, but realized that you never would have, even when you had the opportunity to do so. You had too much pride for that, which you accepted as one of your weaker points. So much of your current dilemma would be easily solved by speaking up and asking the right questions.

You promised yourself that you would finally start doing this when you saw Vergil tonight.

The dinner preparations were going exactly according to plan and you were relieved that you'd managed to finish everything up with a little over five minutes to spare. You were even more relieved that you'd managed to make it all the way through without going for a second glass of wine.

You'd mixed together a salad while the sauce was cooking and were in the process of setting everything up on the coffee table when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart leapt into your throat.

"Just a second," you called out.

He'd arrived exactly at your agreed upon time and not a single second before or after, so you were glad that you'd given yourself so much leeway in getting everything prepared.

You finished up the last of these preparations, then took a deep breath and went to answer the door.

You weren't exactly sure what you had been expecting to see on the other side, apart from the obvious, but you were immediately struck by just how ordinary he looked standing there. He was wearing much more average clothes now, his outfit consisting of a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of dark jeans.

So, he hadn't lost his propensity for all black clothing. This amused you, but you tried not to show it.

"Hi," you said, and he simply nodded in response. "Uh, come in."

You motioned him inside and he stepped across the threshold, still not saying a single word, or even taking a moment to acknowledge you.

Yes, the wine had been a good idea after all, it would seem.

"I made dinner, if you're hungry." You stood beside the coffee table and stared down at it. "To be honest, I didn't know if you guys eat, but I didn't want to be rude by not making anything."

You looked up at him and the expression on his face suggested that you'd offended him.

"I didn't mean-" This was going poorly already. "Not that there would be anything wrong with that. I just didn't want to make it weird."

Clearly, you were failing on that front.

He took a seat on the end of the couch and simply said, "Yes, we do eat."

You took the seat beside him and continued to stare at the coffee table as though it would be able to offer you a way out of this.

"I have wine too, if you'd like some," you said.

"Yes, thank you," he replied.

His response relieved you somewhat as it gave you an excuse to finally pour yourself a second glass.

You poured one for each of you and held yours in your hand, while his remained untouched along with his food.

"Look, I'm sorry," you said.

Was he still offended about the food thing? Surely there was some way you could get him to open up.

He finally glanced your way.

"Why are you the one apologizing?" he asked.

"I don't know," you said. "Maybe because you're acting like you don't wanna be here?"

He shook his head.

"I was actually a bit surprised when you agreed to meet me on these terms," he said.

"Well, I didn't even think you wanted to see me again, so that makes two of us."

"No, I wanted that very much."

He lifted the fork from the plate in front of him and began to poke at the noodles upon it. Was he nervous? You found the idea somewhat laughable.

"You could've fooled me," you said, and you regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. "I mean, you have to understand why I feel that way."

"Yes," he said. He continued to stab at his noodles without lifting any of them from their place. "I am aware that I can be a bit difficult."

A bit?

You managed to hold your tongue this time. It would not behoove you to make fun of him; he was trying, and you had to give him credit for that.

"Well, thank you for making it out here," you said.

"Thank you for having me."

He set down his fork at last and inched just a bit closer to you, looking as though he wanted to say something else.

Instead, he returned his attention back to the plate and finally took a bite of the food you'd prepared. You held your breath as you awaited his assessment of it.

"Did you make this?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied.

"It's good."

"Thank you."

You could've cut the tension hanging over your living room with a knife.

"Are you going to eat?" he asked.

You shook your head.

"Maybe later," you said. "I'm not that hungry."

His lips curled into a nearly imperceptible smile.

"So, you made all this food for me?" he asked.

This was your moment to make good on the promise of honesty you'd made to yourself earlier.

"Honestly?" you said, and your stomach flipped. "I've been really nervous about this whole thing."

"About seeing me?" he asked. The smile was still there. "How foolish."

"I know that. I don't know, I just get so worried that I'm gonna mess this up somehow."

He turned to look at you with an expression of disbelief.

"I know," you repeated. "It's not rational. I just… Well, I like having you around and I don't wanna lose you again."

Even under your pledge of honesty, you weren't quite ready to express the extent of your romantic feelings for him. After a few more glasses of wine, perhaps, but not as things stood at the present moment.

"That's certainly not something I hear very often," he said.

"Well, I mean it," you said.

You just couldn't take this distance anymore. You hadn't allowed him to come here so that the two of you could have a polite chat. The evening was turning out exactly as you'd feared and you had to do something.

And so, without another word, you leaned toward him and rested your head against his shoulder.

Part of you expected him to push you away or to ask what the hell you were doing, but instead, he simply allowed it.

It was as though a huge weight had been lifted from your chest and suddenly, you weren't feeling quite so anxious anymore. And you felt that he had relaxed somewhat as well, his shoulder noticeably loosening the moment you touched it.

This was all that you truly wanted. In that moment, you realized that all of the anxiety you'd felt while getting your apartment ready had been an illusion created by your mind to distract you from the truth: you simply wanted to see him and to spend time with him, no matter what form that took. But, deep down, you feared that none of the things you could come up with would be enough for him.

You leaned a little closer and nuzzled his neck.

"I'm glad Dante didn't kill you," you said.

"I'm pretty pleased with that fact myself," he said.

You breathed a sigh of relief.

That simple, lighthearted exchange had dissolved so much of the tension in the room that you felt your anxiety starting to melt away, and your appetite began to return at last.

* * *

Once the two of you had finished eating, you found yourself faced with the entirely new, albeit much less significant, question of whether or not you were going to invite him to spend the night.

Things had been going well thus far. You'd managed to keep them from becoming awkward again, so it wouldn't be an inappropriate question. And he didn't seem to be making a rush to leave at the moment.

You came up with a few different ways to ask, all of which condensed down into, "I'm starting to feel pretty tired."

"I see," he said. "Then, I suppose I should be going now."

You reached out your hand toward his arm in an attempt to stop him from heading out the door.

"Wait!" you called. "I mean, I'm sure you're tired too, and you've been drinking, so it's probably not a good idea for you to drive home right now."

"I metabolize alcohol more quickly than a human would."

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he making excuses to leave or was he truly that dense?

You sighed and tried again.

"What I'm trying to say is," you said. "Would you like to spend the night at my place?"

It was as though a light bulb had flicked on behind his eyes as soon as he'd processed what you'd said.

"Oh," he said. "Yes, I would like that, if you're sure."

"Yes, I'm sure. I asked you three times."

"Did you?"

You rolled your eyes. So he was that dense after all. You made a mental note to be more upfront with your propositions in the future.

"Yes, I did," you said. "I'm gonna get ready for bed now, so feel free to join me whenever."

You started up the stairs and weren't at all surprised when he didn't follow you. If he continued down his current trajectory, you feared he would try to sleep on the couch to be polite.

Still, you'd managed to get your message through to him in the end. At least your efforts to straighten up your bedroom hadn't proven themselves to be a waste.

You began your usual nightly routine and had almost made it all the way through by the time Vergil had joined you upstairs. If it weren't for his reflection in the mirror in front of you, you never would have noticed him, as his footsteps were completely silent. He walked into the room and stopped just in front of your closet, then stared at it as though it confounded him in some way. You finished up brushing your teeth, then went to see if there was anything you could assist him with.

"Looking for something?" you asked as you poked your head out of the bathroom.

"I wasn't expecting this, so I didn't pack anything with me," he replied. "Would it be out of line to ask to borrow some of your clothes? I'd rather not sleep in this."

"Sure, that's fine. If you can find something that fits, that is."

You went to join him in front of the closet in order to help him look. You did have a number of oversized shirts that you liked to wear to bed, so perhaps he would be able to find something suitable among them.

He was taking his time in making a selection, so you decided to choose one for him.

"How's this one?" you asked.

You took a navy blue t-shirt from its hanger and held it out toward him. He took it from your hand and draped it over the front of his body.

"It may be a bit tight," he said.

"Well, I didn't exactly have your body in mind when I bought them, now did I?"

He shot you a sideways look, but tucked the shirt under his arm anyway. You then made another selection, a pair of plain sweatpants that had always been slightly too big for you.

"Thank you," he said.

With that handled, you returned to the bathroom to continue getting ready for bed and he began to change into the clothes that you had given him.

You were on the very last stage of your routine, which involved finally letting down and brushing out your hair. You'd put it up in a simple bun as part of your attempt to impress him, so you got to work removing all of the bobby pins you'd stuck in it, accepting the fact that you would likely continue to find them after you'd woken up the next day.

As you leaned closer to the mirror, it became apparent that you had a very clear view of Vergil in the reflection within it. You made a half-hearted attempt not to stare, but in between extracting bobby pins, you could stop yourself from glancing back.

His clothes may have been perfectly ordinary, but his body underneath them was anything but, which hadn't been apparent to you when it was mostly hidden beneath the thick fabric of the sweater. He was still facing toward the closet as he changed and you found yourself transfixed as you watched the muscles of his back flex with every movement.

Even when you had long since run out of bobby pins, you found that you couldn't tear your eyes away. He had been right; your shirt was way too tight for him, particularly in the shoulder region, and it only served to emphasize his shape all the more.

He put on the sweatpants and abruptly turned, prompting you to scramble in order to make it look as though you had been doing something other than shamelessly ogling him.

You made a grab for the hairbrush beside the sink and began to brush out your hair, perhaps a bit too aggressively to be convincing.

He walked back toward the bathroom and hovered behind you as he examined the outfit you'd given him.

"You're right, that shirt is way too tight for you," you said. You turned around to get a better look at him. "Not that that's a bad thing."

Perhaps it was the two glasses of wine in your system, or perhaps you were feeling emboldened by the positive turn the evening had taken, but regardless, you found that you were unable to resist the urge that came over you.

"My clothes look pretty good on you," you said. "Dare I say, you wear those pants even better than I do."

You walked around behind him and, without a word, smacked his ass with the hairbrush you still held in your hand.

His body tensed and he froze in place.

Oh no.

Had you actually upset him? His eyes shot toward you and you weren't exactly sure what to make of his expression.

He stared you down for a moment, then said, "give me that," as he made a grab for the brush.

You somehow managed to move it out of his reach just in time. His second attempt was equally unsuccessful and you ducked beneath his hand, then took off running back out into your room.

"Give it to me!" he said.

It came out as an order, but his tone was noticeably playful, removing the lingering concern that you'd caused any actual offense.

He took off after you and paused just before you, freezing you beneath the door frame, blocking your path further out into the room.

"Make me," you returned, and you ducked beneath his arm before running back toward the bed.

You were forced to stop again in order to avoid tripping on his clothes, which were now in a pile on the floor, and he took the opportunity to tackle you.

"You're gonna regret that," he said, his breath tickling your ear as he pinned you down against the mattress and began grabbing at your wrist.

In spite of all of your flailing, he finally got a good grip and brought it to a stop, then wrenched the brush free from your grasp with the other hand. As your body stilled and you turned to look up at him, you realized that he was laughing.

For the first time since you'd known him, he appeared to be genuinely happy.

You smiled as well, and giggled at the sight of him holding the hairbrush triumphantly over your head.

"You're ridiculous," you said.

"I'm ridiculous?"

He sat upright and placed the hairbrush onto your nightstand.

"Just can't let me win anything, can you?" you asked.

You sat up as well and placed your head on his shoulder.

"I have my dignity," he said. He sat quietly for a moment, then continued, "I can't thank you enough for having me over tonight."

"I'm glad you came back," you said. "I really did miss you, you know."

He took hold of your right hand and held it to his chest.

"I was beginning to think that you would never find it in your heart to forgive me," he said. "Not that I really deserve it."

"Oh, hush," you kissed his cheek. "What's done is done. You can't erase what you did. All you can do is keep moving forward, and that's what you're doing, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right."

You brought your left hand up to match the right and gave him a gentle squeeze.

"There will be more than enough time to talk about this tomorrow," you said. "For now, let's try to get some sleep, okay?"

He nodded and you stood to turn off the light, then extinguished the candle before settling back into the bed.

"Water under the bridge," you said. "I promise I'm not gonna lord this over you, or anything like that."

"I wouldn't hold it against you if you did," he said.

"Well, I'm not going to."

You crawled under the blanket and laid down on your side.

As soon as you closed your eyes, you realized just how exhausted you'd become. The adrenaline rush of the chase had masked it for a bit and it was all coming crashing down on you now.

You had just about drifted off to sleep when you felt him move a bit closer and work his arms beneath yours, wrapping them around you.

"I know you're probably asleep," he whispered. "But." He sighed. "You've been so good to me, from the very beginning. I don't think I could ever offer you a suitable repayment for everything you've done for me." There was a rather lengthy pause, and then, "you've shown me that, perhaps, humans can be kind after all."

You had to smile at this. Even now, he was too ashamed to share his true feelings with you. You considered allowing him to believe that you truly were asleep, but instead, you turned over toward him and took his face in your hands.

"That's really sweet," you said.

Even in the darkness, you could see him turning red.

"I didn't know you were still awake," he said.

"Clearly." You smiled. "It's okay. You can be honest with me. I promise I won't judge you."

You gave a large yawn and snuggled up to his chest.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," he said.

And so, all of your fears had proven themselves to be unfounded. Perhaps you could find a way to make this work after all.

It was with this thought in mind that you finally began to drift off to sleep, soothed by it and by the feel of his arms around you. It just felt right, like this was the way things were supposed to be all along, even if it took a while for them to get there.

You could rest assured that, tonight, he was still going to be there by the time you awoke the next morning.

#vergil x reader #dmc #dmc5 #dmc vergil #vergil #writing #fanfiction #fluff #like big fluffy clouds on a summer day #lordt #reader insert #alcohol #tw: alcohol

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b-mydarling · 4 years

Text

[01] MASCARA

I am still dwelling in self pity over a break up with my super hot ex-boyfriend, Sehun when my best friend decided to give me a replacement mascara to make up for all the loss that I've had from crying over that jackass (as referred by Byun Baekhyun himself) for the past one week. It was a normal gift to be quite honest, but little did I know, that one normal gift is the thing that made me realize just how drop dead gorgeous my best friend is. And to Baekhyun, that three boxes of Fenty Beauty mascara are the same exact thing that have made him realized that even after years, he has never lost his feelings for me.

🍰 pairing: baekhyun x OC

🍰 characters: baekhyun, OC, sehun, yeri, irene

🍰 genre: what else if not FLUFF 😭

🍰 aus: university student! baekhyun, best friends to lovers.

🍰 contains: Playing with makeup with some cute music as the bgm but definitely not in this chapter :>

🍰 word count: 3K

― note: this is my first time cross-posting my fictional work on this platform. (I guess), posting this chapter will help me to understand Tumblr's algorithm better 😔✋ oh and fyi, the main idea of this oneshot was actually inspired by my dream 😭😭 Yes, I dreamt of Baekhyun in the midst of a pandemic and during an online semester like I’ve had nothing better to do :)

p/s: let me know if you want to be tagged for the next chapter.

Best friends.

That is the perfect term to describe and explain my relationship with Baekhyun. We used to live in the same apartment complex and his mother used to babysit me while my parents went to work. The babysitting lasted for almost six years (from when I was still a wee child at the age of 7 and until I turned 13) before his family moved to Incheon from Seoul. Even though we didn’t get to meet as often as we used to, our friendship is still intact and growing strong until now, when we are both a university students.

It was fun and easy being friends with Baekhyun. He may be older than me by two years, but I have never mind the fact because befriending Baekhyun was so, so much easier than befriending his little sister, Yeri. Although we are of the same age, I’m not close with Yeri because she used to think that my presence was a nuisance to her family; stealing her one and only brother from her, stealing her mom’s love and affection away from her, and she hated it when her dad brought back matching toys or playset for us to play together. And yes, of course we didn’t play together. To conclude my relationship with Yeri, we don’t hate or loathe each other but we have come to agree with the fact that we just don’t click with each other very well.

Presently, it is a Friday evening and I am laying on the couch at my family house’s living room. I am beat from living off from only few hours of sleep and a lot of coffee for the past two days because I was trying to perfect my assignment that holds 30% weightage for one of the subjects that I’m currently taking as a second year university student majoring in Beauty and Hairdressing studies. And now that I have submitted the assignment, it feels like all the burdens have been lifted from my shoulders and all that I want to do is sleep. I shift a few times on the long couch, trying to find a comfortable position to take a nap. I don’t want to sleep in my room just yet, afraid that my parents might forget to take the house key with them and I don’t hear their knockings if I sleep in my room. That, and I’m just too scared to sleep in my room knowing that I’m all alone in this house. It only feels like a few minutes have passed since I fell asleep before the incessant ringing of my phone wake me up. I grumble in my hazy state and reach for my phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” I mutter into the phone without even looking at the caller id or even opening my eyes, sleep already calling back to me.

There’s a small chuckle coming from the other side of the line, the caller’s voice so deep and warm; alarming me about who he is. My lips automatically curl to form a smile just by hearing his velvet voice. There’s a few beat of silence before he starts to speak to me. “Did I wake you up from your nap?”

“Yes, yes you did.” I jokingly say with a pout while putting the call on speaker before I put my phone down to sit up from my laying position. “I’m so tired, Sehun. Mrs. Kwon has finally approved of my dreamy makeup look sketching after the fourth consultation. I’ve just submitted the assignment too. But anyway, why are you calling me? Are you done with labs?”

Sehun fakes a cry and says “My poor baby. But hey, at least you’re done with it now, right?” I hum, enjoying the comfort that my boyfriend is giving me. “And yes, I’m done with lab and my basketball practice too.” Sehun says with a teasing voice. “Can you come down for a while, princess? I need to talk to you about something.”

I look at the wall clock and frown. It’s nearly 7pm now and I’m too lazy to change out from my comfortable lounge wear. “Now?”

“Yes, now. I’m already waiting in front of your apartment complex.”

Still feeling lazy to change my clothes, I try my luck again. “Can you come upstairs then, Sehun? My parents are not home yet. They went out to have dinner with my father’s colleague.”

There’s another beat of silence coming from the other side of the line before Sehun sighs into his phone. I couldn’t decipher whether his sigh is rather affectionate or because he’s just tired from a long day at university. But I guess whatever that he’s going to talk to me about is pretty serious from the way he responds to my invitation.

“I can’t do that, baby. I need to tell you something without having to face the possibility of your parents walking in on us and disrupting our privacy. I’m also kinda in a rush to meet my friends later.”

I pout. “Okay, I’ll be down in a few minutes. See you, Sehun.” I say and after receiving a hum from him, I end the call while getting up from the couch and walk to my room to get change into something more appropriate to wear. I choose to wear Sehun’s grey hoodie that he has given me before and a legging. The hoodie is two times bigger than my own size so it’s really comfortable too. I grab my phone and lock the door before going down. Once I arrive down at the lobby, I can already see Sehun’s parked car a few metres from the apartment’s entrance. I walk closer to his Audi and knock softly on the window. Sehun is busy playing game on his phone that he gets startled by my soft knocking. He then unlocks his car and I get into the passenger seat next to him.

“Hi,” Sehun smiles at me and scans my face, his head tilting bit by bit the more he spends his time analyzing my countenance. Sehun then crinkles his nose. “Damn baby, you really look super exhausted. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s okay since I need to wait for my parents to come home too.” My reply is cut short because my mind is being clouded with the smell of freshly baked dessert in his car. I turn half of my body in Sehun’s direction before I turn my head to look at his back seat. I see that there’s a white transparent box of brownies from the bakery that I frequently go to and a big bouquet of my favourite red and pink roses. I turn my head back to look at Sehun and grin up at him. “Are those for me?”

Sehun grins back at me before he takes my hand into his big one. “Of course those are for my favourite girl. You can even share the brownies with your parents too.” His other hand stretches behind him to grab both the flower bouquet and the box of brownies before he places them in my lap.

“These are my present for you because you have been such an amazing girlfriend for me for the past six months. Now, let me talk about the thing that I have wanted to tell you.”

Sehun has broken up with me.

Before this, it only took him 15 minutes to gather his courage to express and explain his feelings for me and now, it only took him 10 minutes to tell me that he wants to break up with me. Because apparently, his basketball coach has strictly forbidden him and the rest of his teammates from dating to ensure that their performance will not be affected if anything were to happen to the relationship. It was an absurd reasoning, I know that. But how can I not agree when Sehun has reasoned with me so well. He is on a full basketball scholarship so he must give his very best to basketball and to his major studies too. So yes, I agreed to break things up with him (although a part of me is hoping that we could still work things out).

After I went back to my house, I just sat idly on the couch thinking about what have just happened. There are three thoughts that are currently running through my minds and I could not just brush away this three facts:

My hot and athletic boyfriend has broken up with me.

I still love him

Should I wait for the both of us to graduate so we can be together again? But that will take two more years.

My parents came home at half past nine in the evening with take-out food for me. I only thanked my parents and proceed to eat my dinner in silence before asking for their permission so that I can leave for my room first. I even told them that they can eat the brownies on the coffee table because I don’t feel like eating it. As a result, my parents got worried over me because they could sense that something is wrong with me and Sehun from looking at the abandoned bouquet of roses and the box of brownies on the coffee table.

Now that I’m all alone in my bedroom, the realization just hit me like a bullet train. I feel suffocated. I feel restless. I feel like there is nothing else that is worse than this breakup. But boy I was wrong, there is something that is even worse than this shitty feeling that I’m having right now.

Because at half past 10 pm, my phone gets bombarded with a lot of messages and screenshots from my close friends in university. And the content of the messages were all the same, two screenshots of Irene’s latest instagram stories with one of it being a picture of hers and a man’s legs on a bed, watching Netflix together and the other picture being the same exact white box of brownies and a bouquet of red and pink roses like what I have gotten earlier. The caption in the story was:

“First date. Thank you, my sweet boy @oohsehun”

And that was the exact moment when I feel like the world has crashed on me. I feel like I could not breathe with all this new information that I just get. I need to save my sanity and I need to see the person who understands me better than anyone else. I hurriedly change my clothes before telling my parents that I need to see that person because of an emergency. My parents allowed me to go out despite it being so late at night, partly because they’ve seen how shocked and restless I am, and partly because the person that I’m going out to see is my best friend.

Byun Baekhyun.

Baekhyun has just returned home from his daily night run when he saw me standing in front of his door. He was shocked, of course. Because I have never really went to his apartment without noticing him beforehand. But upon seeing my blood-drained face, he ushered me inside before he rushed through his shower so that he can talk to me. After he’s done showering, he brought me to sit across of him at the small dining table that’s just enough for two people. And when he was seated too, he only crossed his arms and placed them on table. He doesn’t open his mouth, but his eyes are demanding me to open up. And I was right because in the next second, Baekhyun is ready to be on his best friend’s duty.

“Okay, spill it now. Every single thing.”

“You know what? Just cry.”

“Why are you asking me to cry?” I ask, annoyed that Baekhyun has been telling me the same thing ever since I was done telling him what happened. Baekhyun was also shocked to know just how much of an asshole Oh Sehun was. But he then said that I should have at least expected this since Sehun is a popular guy at university.

“Because,” Baekhyun uncrosses his arms on the table and leans back on the chair. He closes his eyes before continuing. “It’s not healthy for your mental health, you know? You don’t have to put on a strong facade in front of me. Acting like this when you’re hurting deep inside will only hurt you even more. I’ve seen you cry before. Multiple of times too, if I may add.”

I brush his words off and only stay silent. My eyes roam around his grey and red themed apartment, taking in the minimalistic interior of the house that belongs to the 24 year old man sitting across of me. He has a grey coloured two-seater sofa, his coffee table is full with his macbook, ipad, some of his still opened law text books, some documents and stationaries. His television that was originally brought from his family home is connected to the internet and his playstation 4 is still plugged into the television too.

When was the last time I visited his house? I couldn’t recall the memory but I know that it has been quite a while. Ever since I started dating Sehun, I only met Baekhyun at our university or anywhere else that is not his house because Baekhyun thought it was a little inappropriate for me to go to his house since I have a boyfriend. My little inspection of his house was interrupted after a short while when Baekhyun sighs a little loudly. I focus my eyes on him now and shrug my shoulder.

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Baekhyun asks. “I don’t want you to get anymore hurt by whatever that jackass is doing or about to be doing after this. I know how much you like him and how much you cherish the relationship that you’ve had with him. It’s completely normal to be hurting by this news and it’s definitely okay to cry too. Cry until your eyes get swollen, cry until you fall asleep and wake up feeling a lot better than tonight.”

I bite my inner cheek and shake my head. Although I admit that I am hurt deep inside, I refuse to cry. Not because I have too much pride in me but because of these mixed feelings bubbling inside. Hurt from being lied and cheated on by the person whom I thought I was going to have a long lasting relationship with. Confused because out of all people, I didn’t expect Sehun and Irene to be together. Irene was my seatmate and one of my assignment group mates throughout the whole of last semester where I had taken an elective subject not related to my major. Appalled because this would have not happened if I hadn’t asked Sehun to join our group celebration dinner for getting an A last semester. These feelings just keep on brewing inside me and it was too much to comprehend, leaving me to not be able to even shed a tear.

“I don’t know, Baekhyun.” I say while standing up from the dining chair.“I thought I should tell you about this and feel better, but I still feel like I have just gotten hit by a car. I guess breakup really sucks.” I laugh soullessly. “Hey, do you mind if I crash here tonight? I’m too tired to drive again.” I don’t wait for Baekhyun to respond because I straight away walk to his couch, not realizing that Baekhyun has also stand up from his chair to follow me.

I’m only a few steps away from the couch when I feel a soft tug on my left hand, turning me around before I am being pulled into a bear hug. My eyes widen in shock because my best friend has never hugged me so closely and so tightly like this. But his embrace is just so perfect and warm and very much comforting that I can feel all these mixed emotions inside of me are swirling all over the place before I feel something triggering the most wanted reaction from me. And just like his warm embrace, my dams of tears exploded.

“I really like him, Baekhyun.” I say with tears streaming down my face. Baekhyun doesn’t say anything but lets me cry on his shoulder. I take a long time to stop crying and when I am slowly sniffling, that is when Baekhyun starts speaking.

“That wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” He asks while stroking my long hair. “You silly girl, you’ll feel a lot better after this. And oppa will make sure that jackass will regret doing what he did to you.”

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